When Midas heard her sobs, he determined to put little Marygold into better spirits by an agreeable surprise; so, leaning across the table, he touched his danghter's bowl (which was a china one, with pretty figures all around it), and changed it into gleaming gold.Meanwhile, Marygoldslowly and sadly opened the door, and showed herself with her apron at her eyes, still sobbing as if her heart would break.
"How now, my little lady!" cried Midas."Pray, what is the matter with you, this bright morning?"Marygold, without taking the apron from her eyes, held out her hand, in which was one of the roses which Midas had so recently changed into gold.
"Beautiful!" exclaimed her father."And what is there in this magnificent golden rose to make you cry?""Ah, dear father!" answered the child, between her sobs, "it is not beautiful, but the ugliest flower that ever grew! As soon as I was dressed, I ran into the garden to gather some roses for you; because I know you like them, and like them the better when gathered by your little daughter.But oh, dear, dear me! What do you think has happened? Such a sad thing! All the beautiful roses, that smelled so sweetly, and had so many lovely blushes, are blighted and spoilt! They are grown quite yellow, as you see this one, and have no longer any fragrance! What can have been the matter with them?""Pooh, my dear little girl,--pray don't cry about it!" said Midas, who was ashamed to confess that he himself had wrought the change which so greatly afflicted her."Sit down, and eat your bread and milk.You will find it easy enough to exchange a golden rose like that (which will last hundreds of years), for an ordinary one which would wither in a day.""I don't care for such roses as this!" cried Marygold, tossing it contemptuously away."It has no smell, and the hard petals prick my nose!"The child now sat down to table, but was so occupied with her grief for blighted roses that she did not even notice the wonderful change in her china bowl.Perhaps this was all the better; for Marygold was accustomed to take pleasure in looking at the queer figures and strange trees and houses that were painted on the outside of the bowl; and those ornaments were now entirely lost in the yellow hue of the metal.
VI.
Midas, meanwhile, had poured out a cup of coffee; and, as a matter of course, the coffeepot, whatever metal it may have been when he took it up, was gold when he set it down.He thought to himself that it was rather an extravagant style of splendor, in a king of his simple habits, to breakfast off a service of gold, and began to be puzzled with the difficulty of keeping his treasures safe.The cupboard and the kitchen would no longer be a secure place of deposit for articles so valuable as golden bowls and golden coffeepots.
Amid these thoughts, he lifted a spoonful of coffee to his lips, and, sipping it, was astonished to perceive that the instant his lips touched the liquid it became molten gold, and the next moment, hardened into a lump!
"Ha!" exclaimed Midas, rather aghast.
"What is the matter, father?" asked little Marygold, gazing at him, with the tears still standing in her eyes.
"Nothing, child, nothing!" said Midas."Take your milk before it gets quite cold." He took one of the nice little trouts on his plate, and touched its tail with his finger.To his horror, it was immediately changed from a brook trout into a gold fish, and looked as if it had been very cunningly made by the nicest goldsmith in the world.Its little bones were now golden wires; its fins and tail were thin plates of gold; and there were the marks of the fork in it, and all the delicate, frothy appearance of a nicely fried fish, exactly imitated in metal.
"I don't quite see," thought he to himself, "how I am to get any breakfast!"He took one of the smoking-hot cakes, and had scarcely broken it, when, to his cruel mortification, though a moment before, it had been of the whitest wheat, it assumed the yellow hue of Indian meal.Its solidity and increased weight made him too bitterly sensible that it was gold.Almost in despair, he helped himself to a boiled egg, which immediately underwent a change similar to that of the trout and the cake.
"Well, this is terrible!" thought he, leaning back in his chair, and looking quite enviously at little Marygold, who was now eating her breadand milk with great satisfaction."Such a costly breakfast before me, and nothing that can be eaten!"VII.
Hoping that, by dint of great dispatch, he might avoid what he now felt to be a considerable inconvenience, King Midas next snatched a hot potato, and attempted to cram it into his mouth, and swallow it in a hurry.But the Golden Touch was too nimble for him.He found his mouth full, not of mealy potato, but of solid metal, which so burnt his tongue that he roared aloud, and, jumping up from the table, began to dance and stamp about the room, both with pain and affright.
"Father, dear father!" cried little Marygold, who was a very affectionate child, "pray what is the matter? Have you burnt your mouth?""Ah, dear child," groaned Midas, dolefully, "I don't know what is to become of your poor father!"And, truly, did you ever hear of such a pitiable case, in all your lives? Here was literally the richest breakfast that could be set before a king, and its very richness made it absolutely good for nothing.The poorest laborer, sitting down to his crust of bread and cup of water, was far better off than King Midas, whose delicate food was really worth its weight in gold.
And what was to be done? Already, at breakfast, Midas was excessively hungry.Would he be less so by dinner time? And how ravenous would be his appetite for supper, which must undoubtedly consist of the same sort of indigestible dishes as those now before him! How many days, think you, would he survive a continuance of this rich fare?
