Hartilaf then made the Prince into a neat roll and tied a string around
the middle, to hold it in place. Then he tucked the roll under his arm
and carried it to the top of the mountain that stood between the two
valleys. Placing the Prince carefully on the ground he started him
rolling, and in a short time he had rolled down the mountain side into
the Valley of Mo.

At first the people were much frightened, not knowing what this strange
thing could be that had come rolling into their midst. They stood
around, curiously looking at the roll, but afraid to touch it, when
suddenly Fiddlecumdoo began to cry out. And then, so fearful was the
sound, they all ran away as fast as their legs could carry them.

Prince Thinkabit, however, being more courageous than the rest, at last
ventured to approach and cut the string that fastened the roll.
Instantly it opened, and to their amazement the people saw what it was.

"Upon my word, it is brother Fiddlecumdoo!" cried Prince Thinkabit.
"The giant must have stepped on him."

"No, indeed," said poor Fiddlecumdoo, "I've been run through a
clothes-wringer, which is much worse than being stepped on."

With many expressions of pity the kind people stood the Prince up and
helped him to the palace, where the King was greatly shocked at his sad
plight. Fiddlecumdoo was so broad that the only thing he could sit down
on was the sofa, and he was so thin that when Princess Pattycake
sneezed he was blown half way across the room.