When the morning came there was such a shivering, crumpled up queen sitting on the grass, that even her own ladies would scarcely have known her.
"'Oh, husband! husband!' she cried, getting up and wringing her cold little hands.

'You will never find me, and your poor wicked wife will die of cold and hunger.' "Tirra-lirra! tirra-lirra! What was that sounding in the forest?
Surely--surely--it was a hunting horn.

But who could be blowing it so early in the cold gray morning, when it was scarcely light?
On ran the queen toward where the sound came from.

Over rocks and grass she ran, till, all of a sudden, stepping out from behind a tree, came the king himself, who had been looking for her for hours.

And then what do you think the discontented queen did?
She folded her hands, and hung her head, and said, quite sadly and simply: "'Oh, my lord king, make me a shepherdess really.