Believe it or not, the wood he cut fell into place all by itself. One branch made an axle, another the rudder; one length made the gunwale, another the rail. The pieces joined themselves each to each by tenon and mortise, fitted themselves where they belonged, and worked out what the next piece would be. The whole design grew by itself. At last the boat the king had dreamed of, without even knowing what it might look like, took shape Under the lad's fingers just as a pine cone takes shape on the tree -- but a mite faster.
The journeyman sang and the work went forward. By midday the boat
was finished -- perfectly finished, and even rather nicely decorated with
delicate carvings.
The lad went aboard to try it out. The boat rolled down to the pond, launched itself, came back to land, and sailed as well on land as on water! So he steered it toward the castle where the king lived.
Without horses or mules, this carriage-boat sailed so straight over rivers, ponds, fields, and moors chat the tall poplars bent low out of its path and the whole landscape glided swiftly by. The lad rolled along, hair to the wind; but he still didn't assume, as many others would have done in his place, that he was the best in the world.
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