“Giant scissors, bridge the path,
     And save us from the Ogre’s wrath.”

Again the scissors grew longer and longer, until they lay across the chasm like a shining bridge.  Ethelried hurried across after the Fairy, trembling and dizzy, for the Ogre was now almost upon them.  As soon as they were safe on the other side, the Fairy blew upon the scissors, and, presto, they became shorter and shorter until they were only the length of an ordinary sword.

“Here,” she said, giving them into his hands; “because thou wast persevering and fearless in setting me free, these shall win for thee thy heart’s desire.  But remember that thou canst not keep them sharp and shining, unless they are used at least once each day in some unselfish service.”

Before he could thank her she had vanished, and he was left in the forest alone.  He could see the Ogre standing powerless to hurt him, on the other side of the chasm, and gnashing his teeth, each one of which was as big as a millston.

The sight was so terrible, that he turned on his heel, and fled away as fast as his feet could carry him.  By the time he reached the edge of the forest he was very tired, and ready to faint from hunger.  His heart’s greatest desire being for food, he wondered if the scissors could obtain it for him as the Fairy had promised.  He had spent his last coin and knew not where to go for another.

Just then he spied a tree, hanging full of great, yellow apples.  By standing on tiptoe he could barely reach the lowest one with his scissors.  He cut off an apple, and was about to take a bite, when an old Witch sprang out of a hollow tree across the road.

“So you are the thief who has been stealing my gold apples all this last fortnight!” she exclaimed.  “Well, you shall never steal again, that I promise you.  Ho, Frog-eye Fearsome, seize on him and drag him into your darkest dungeon!”

At that, a hideous-looking fellow, with eyes like a frog’s, green hair, and horrid clammy webbed fingers, clutched him before he could turn to defend himself.  He was thrust into the dungeon and left there all day.

At sunset, Frog-eye Fearsome opened the door to slide in a crust and a cup of water, saying in a croaking voice, “You shall be hanged in the morning, hanged by the neck until you are quite dead.”  Then he stopped to run his webbed fingers through his damp green hair, and grin at the poor captive Prince, as if he enjoyed his suffering.  But the next morning no one came to take him to the gallows, and he sat all day in total darkness.  At sunset Frog-eye Fearsome opened the door again to thrust in another crust and some water and say, “In the morning you shall be drowned; drowned in the Witch’s mill-pond with a great stone tied to your heels.”

Again the croaking creature stood and gloated over his victim, then left him to the silence of another long day in the dungeon.  The third day he opened the door and hopped in, rubbing his webbed hands together with fiendish pleasure, saying, “You are to have no food and drink to-night, for the Witch has thought of a far more horrible punishment for you.  In the morning I shall surely come again, and then—­beware!”