'But he was nothing daunted. He painted his face brown and
black, drew his cap well over his face, and knocked at the door.
'Good-day, Emperor,' he said. 'Can I get a place here as servant
in the castle?'
'Yes,' said the Emperor, 'but there are so many who ask for a
place that I don't know whether there will be one for you; but,
still, I will think of you. Stay, it has just occurred to me
that I want someone to look after the swine, for I have so very
many of them.'
And the Prince got the situation of Imperial Swineherd. He had a
wretched little room close to the pigsties; here he had to stay,
but the whole day he sat working, and when evening was come he
had made a pretty little pot. All round it were little bells,
and when the pot boiled they jingled most beautifully and played
the old tune--
'Where is Augustus dear?
Alas! he's not here, here, here!'
But the most wonderful thing was, that when one held one's finger
in the steam of the pot, then at once one could smell what dinner
was ready in any fire-place in the town. That was indeed
something quite different from the rose.
Now the Princess came walking past with all her ladies-in-
waiting, and when she heard the tune she stood still and her face
beamed with joy, for she also could play 'Where is Augustus
dear?'
It was the only tune she knew, but that she could play with one
finger.
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