She became more and more peevish and fretful every
day--dissatisfied not only with what she had, but with all that was
around her, and constantly wishing things in general to be
different. She found fault with every thing and everybody, and all
that happened, and grew more and more disagreeable to every one who
had to do with her. At last, when she had nearly killed her nurse,
and had all but succeeded in hanging herself, and was miserable from
morning to night, her parents thought it time to do something.
A long way from the palace, in the heart of a deep wood of
pine-trees, lived a wise woman. In some countries she would have
been called a witch; but that would have been a mistake, for she
never did any thing wicked, and had more power than any witch could
have. As her fame was spread through all the country, the king heard
of her; and, thinking she might perhaps be able to suggest
something, sent for her. In the dead of the night, lest the princess
should know it, the king's messenger brought into the palace a tall
woman, muffled from head to foot in a cloak of black cloth.
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