Then the giant's wife saw what she had done, and realizing how serious
was the Prince's condition, the good lady was much grieved over the
accident. She picked Fiddlecumdoo up and tried to stand him on his
feet, but he was so thin that at the least draft he fluttered like a
flag, while a puff of wind would blow him completely over.

"Dear me!" exclaimed the woman, sorrowfully, "whatever can we do with
you in that shape?"

"I really do not know what will become of me," replied the Prince. "I
am certainly no good in this condition. I can not even walk across the
room without toppling over. Can not you manage to push me together
again?" The giantess tried to do this, but the Prince was so sharp that
his edges hurt her hands, and all she could do was to fold him up and
carry him into the drawing-room, where she laid him carefully on the
center-table.

Just before sundown the giant returned from Alaska, bringing several
fat polar-bears in his bag; and scarcely had he set foot within the
house before he inquired after his guest, the Prince.

"You will find him on the drawing-room table," said the giantess. "I
accidently ran him through the clothes-wringer this afternoon, and the
poor boy is as thin as a pie crust. So I folded him up and put him away
until you returned."

The giant immediately went to the table and unfolded Fiddlecumdoo,
asking him how he felt.