In the nearest town, there lived a king with a daughter. The princess was very sad. She never smiled. She never laughed. The doctors could not help her. The entertainers could not help her. The king was desperate.

He made an announcement: "Whoever can make my daughter laugh will marry her!"

Many people tried. Comedians told jokes. Acrobats did tricks. Clowns made funny faces. Musicians played silly songs. But the princess just sat on her throne with a sad, empty expression. Nothing worked.

Then Simpleton walked into town with his golden goose and his long line of stuck people. The three innkeeper's daughters were pulling and crying. The parson was shouting. The assistant was tripping over his own feet. The two farmers were arguing with each other. They zigzagged through the streets like a crazy parade.

The princess looked out her window. She saw Simpleton walking calmly with a golden goose under his arm. She saw the line of people stuck behind him — pulling, shouting, stumbling, falling over each other.

First, her lips twitched. Then the corners of her mouth turned up. Then — for the first time in years — she smiled.

And then she laughed.

She laughed and laughed and laughed. She laughed so hard that tears ran down her face. She laughed until her stomach hurt. She laughed until the whole castle could hear her.

"That is the funniest thing I have ever seen!" she said, wiping her eyes.

The king was overjoyed. His daughter was laughing! He looked at Simpleton — a simple, kind young man with a golden goose — and he was pleased.

"You have done what nobody else could do," said the king. "You have made my daughter laugh. You may marry her."

Simpleton could not believe it. He looked at the princess. She looked at him. She was still smiling.

"Are you always this funny?" she asked.

"I don't try to be," said Simpleton honestly. "Things just seem to happen around me."

The princess laughed again.

They were married the next day. The stuck people were finally released (the spell wore off after sunset). The innkeeper's daughters rubbed their sore hands. The parson straightened his coat. The farmers went back to their fields.

And Simpleton — the boy his brothers called useless, the boy nobody believed in — became a prince. Not because he was clever. Not because he was strong. But because he was kind.

Because he had shared his dry biscuit and sour beer with a hungry old man. And that one act of kindness had changed his life forever.