These words drove the princess beside herself; for those who are most given to abuse can least endure it.  With fists and feet and teeth, as was her wont, she rushed at the shepherdess, whose hand was already raised to deal her a sound box on the ear, when a better appointed minister of vengeance suddenly showed himself.  Bounding in at the cottage-door came one of the sheep-dogs, who was called Prince, and whom I shall not refer to with a which, because he was a very superior animal indeed, even for a sheep-dog, which is the most intelligent of dogs:  he flew at the princess, knocked her down, and commenced shaking her so violently as to tear her miserable clothes to pieces.  Used, however, to mouthing little lambs, he took care not to hurt her much, though for her good he left her a blue nip or two by way of letting her imagine what biting might be.  His master, knowing he would not injure her, thought it better not to call him off, and in half a minute he left her of his own accord, and, casting a glance of indignant rebuke behind him as he went, walked slowly to the hearth, where he laid himself down with his tail toward her.  She rose, terrified almost to death, and would have crept again into Agnes’s crib for refuge; but the shepherdess cried—­

“Come, come, princess!  I’ll have no skulking to bed in the good daylight.  Go and clean your master’s Sunday boots there.”

“I will not!” screamed the princess, and ran from the house.

“Prince!” cried the shepherdess, and up jumped the dog, and looked in her face, wagging his bushy tail.

“Fetch her back,” she said, pointing to the door.

With two or three bounds Prince caught the princess, again threw her down, and taking her by her clothes dragged her back into the cottage, and dropped her at his mistress’ feet, where she lay like a bundle of rags.

“Get up,” said the shepherdess.

Rosamond got up as pale as death.

“Go and clean the boots.”

“I don’t know how.”

“Go and try.  There are the brushes, and yonder is the blacking-pot.”

Instructing her how to black boots, it came into the thought of the shepherdess what a fine thing it would be if she could teach this miserable little wretch, so forsaken and ill-bred, to be a good, well-behaved, respectable child.  She was hardly the woman to do it, but every thing well meant is a help, and she had the wisdom to beg her husband to place Prince under her orders for a while, and not take him to the hill as usual, that he might help her in getting the princess into order.

When the husband was gone, and his boots, with the aid of her own finishing touches, at last quite respectably brushed, the shepherdess told the princess that she might go and play for a while, only she must not go out of sight of the cottage-door.

The princess went right gladly, with the firm intention, however, of getting out of sight by slow degrees, and then at once taking to her heels.  But no sooner was she over the threshold than the shepherdess said to the dog, “Watch her;” and out shot Prince.