"Why not, indeed?" said the young Prince, "only she is too short."
"Why not the Princess of the Blue Mountain?" said the old King.
"Why not, indeed?" said the young Prince, "only she is too tall."
"Why not the Princess of the Red Mountain?" said the old King.
"Why not, indeed?" said the young Prince, "only she is too dark."
"Then whom will you have?" said the old King.
"That I do not know," said the young Prince, "only this: that her brow
shall be as white as milk, and her cheeks shall be as red as blood, and
her eyes shall be as blue as the skies, and her hair shall be like spun
gold."
"Then go and find her!" said the old King, in a huff, for his temper was
as short as chopped flax. "And don't come back again till you've found
her!" he bawled after the Prince as he went out to the door.
So the Prince went out into the wide world to find such a maiden as he
spoke of--whose brow was as white as milk, whose cheeks were as red as
blood, whose eyes were as blue as the skies, and whose hair was like
spun gold--and he would have to travel a long distance to find such a
one nowadays, would he not?
So off he went, tramp! tramp! tramp! till his shoes were dusty and his
clothes were gray. Nothing was in his wallet but a lump of brown bread
and a cold sausage, for he had gone out into the world in haste, as many
a one has done before and since his day.
So he went along, tramp! tramp! tramp! and by-and-by he came to a place
where three roads met, and there sat an old woman.
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