of birds of all colors, and with many different songs, were singing gladly to welcome it.

"I have a splendid plan," exclaimed Prince Dawn. "Let us send two birds to sing to the princesses. They can fly over the mist, and when the maidens hear their song, they themselves will surely sing for joy."

"That is a fine idea!" answered Prince Nightwind. "Let us choose the most beautiful birds here to break the spell which imprisons our beloved princesses."

So they chose a bright blue and a gorgeous orange bird, and quickly they flew away over the mist. But when they reached the little tower window, all their notes had died away. They could sing beautifully in the sunrise light, but in a dark gray fog, they forgot their song, and slowly and sadly they flew back to tell the princes of their failure.

For a moment, Prince Night-wind and Prince Dawn stood silent and puzzled. Then, beside them, a little brown bird, a song-sparrow, twittered: "The darker the day, and the deeper the mist, the sweeter is my song. Do-send-me!" The last words were sung in three long, sweet notes, after which the sparrow gave a trill so gay and bright that even the sunrise itself was not more joyful.

The orange bird and the blue bird flapped their wings scornfully, but the princes were delighted. "Dear little sparrow!" they cried. "Sing like that to the princesses, and they will surely answer you."

So off over the gray mist and down to the tiny window flew the song-sparrow. On the windowsill it perched, and then, although the mist was grayer and colder than ever, it sang and sang, as if all the glory of the sunrise was around it.

Within the tower the princesses sprang to their feet, listening with shining eyes, and when the last trill died away, they sang in answer:

"O little bird, you sing of light,

From stars and moon and sun so bright;
The fragrance of flowers fills your song,
You bring us the hope for which we long."

As their voices rose, sweet and clear, a queer rumbling sound was heard, and at the last note the tower crumbled and faded away, while the mist lifted,- for the charm was broken!

The wicked queen was driving in the royal coach with the king at that moment; but, being a witch, she knew what had happened, and fearing that when the king found what she had done, he would shut her up in prison, she turned into an ugly old hag, and flew away on a broomstick.

Oh, how surprised the king and all his people were! But an instant later, they had another surprise, and a pleasanter one. For up the street, on a fine, black horse, rode Prince Night-wind with the Princess Night behind him, and beside them, on his white horse, rode Prince Dawn, with the Princess Day.

Then all the bells were rung again, wildly and happily this time, and the people danced in the streets while the king danced in his palace.

For his dear daughters had come home again, more beautiful and loving than ever, and with them had come the princes who had saved them, whom they married that very day.

And what music do you suppose they had for the wedding?

Not an organ, or fiddle, or flute; nothing but a chorus of little, brown song-sparrows; but the folks who were there say that never in all their lives had they heard music so sweet and joyous.