my dear answered Midas “Oh, child,” sadly, “it’s terrible, it’s terrible.” Pretty Marigold jumped up from her chair, and, running to Midas, threw her arms around him. He kissed her. dear he cried. “My Marigold!” But Marigold made no answer. Her sweet, rosy face became yellow. Little Marigold was a child no longer, but a golden statue. Poor King Midas! He suddenly recognized the cold cruelty of his gift. He stood paralyzed not able to make a sound. Then he began to sob. As tears streamed down his face, Midas wailed, child, my sweet child! Oh, what have I “My done?” Suddenly he saw the stranger standing near the door. friend said he, are you getting on with your Golden “Well, Midas,” “how Touch?” Despaired and fearful, Midas am the poorest man in the world. have lost all wailed, “I “I that my heart really cared for.” so life has taught you a said the stranger. which of “Ah, good lesson?” “Let us see, then, these two things is dearer the Golden Touch, or one cup of cold — water?” cried Midas. “Oh, dear, cold water!” Golden went on the a piece of “The Touch,” stranger, “or bread?” piece of answered Midas, better than ail the gold on “A bread,” “is earth!” Golden the your own little Marigold warm, rosy and “The Touch”, asked stranger, “or – loving as she was an hour ago?” my child, my dear cried poor Midas. “Oh, child!” are wiser than you were, King said the stranger looking at him. “You Midas,” “Your heart, I see, is no longer filled with the love of gold alone. You had true happiness but did not notice. Tell me now, do you really wish to give up your Golden Touch?”
“Oh, my dear child,” answered Midas sadly, “it’s terrible, it’s terrible.” Pretty Marigold jumped up from her chair, and, running to Midas, threw her arms around him. He kissed her. “My dear Marigold!” he cried. But Marigold made no answer. Her sweet, rosy face became yellow. Little Marigold was a child no longer, but a golden statue. Poor King Midas! He suddenly recognized the cold cruelty of his gift. He stood paralyzed not able to make a sound. Then he began to sob. As tears streamed down his face, Midas wailed, “My child, my sweet child! Oh, what have I done?” Suddenly he saw the stranger standing near the door. “Well, friend Midas,” said he, “how are you getting on with your Golden Touch?” Despaired and fearful, Midas wailed, “I am the poorest man in the world. “I have lost all that my heart really cared for.” “Ah, so life has taught you a good lesson?” said the stranger. “Let us see, then, which of these two things is dearer — the Golden Touch, or one cup of cold water?” “Oh, dear, cold water!” cried Midas. “The Golden Touch,” went on the stranger, “or a piece of bread?” “A piece of bread,” answered Midas, “is better than ail the gold on earth!” “The Golden Touch”, asked the stranger, “or your own little Marigold – warm, rosy and loving as she was an hour ago?” “Oh, my child, my dear child!” cried poor Midas. “You are wiser than you were, King Midas,” said the stranger looking at him. “Your heart, I see, is no longer filled with the love of gold alone. You had true happiness but did not notice. Tell me now, do you really wish to give up your Golden Touch?”