Yes, the woman would do that. Just pay her the pot of gold and he might
go and pluck it and welcome.
So the servant gave her the pot of gold, and then he tried to pluck the
apple. First he reached for it, and then he climbed for it, and then he
shook the limb.
But it was no use for him to try; he could no more get it--well--than
_I_ could if I had been in his place.
At last the servant had to go back to the King. The apple was there, he
said, and the woman had sold it, but try and try as he would he could no
more get it than he could get the little stars in the sky.
Then the King told the steward to go and get it for him; but the
steward, though he was a tall man and a strong man, could no more pluck
the apple than the servant.
[Illustration: The King reaches for the Apple]
So he had to go back to the King with an empty fist. No; he could not
gather it, either.
Then the King himself went. He knew that he could pluck it--of course he
could! Well, he tried and tried; but nothing came of his trying, and he
had to ride away at last without, having had so much as a smell of the
apple.
After the King came home, he talked and dreamed and thought of nothing
but the apple; for the more he could not get it the more he wanted
it--that is the way we are made in this world. At last he grew
melancholy and sick for want of that which he could not get. Then he
sent for one who was so wise that he had more in his head than ten men
together.
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