As they heard of the marvels of London, and of the court, home and its
attractions seemed to become dim by comparison, and Elfric especially
longed to share such happiness.

Their father seemed to wish to change the conversation, as he asked the
prince whether he had been long in Mercia.

Edwy replied, "Nay, my host; this is almost my first day of perfect
freedom, and I only left London, and my uncle the king, a few days back.
Dunstan has gone down to Glastonbury, for which the Saints be thanked,
and I am released for a few days from poring over the musty old
manuscripts to which he dooms me."

"It is well, my prince, that you should have a preceptor so well
qualified to instruct you in the arts your great ancestor King Alfred so
nobly adorned."

"Ah yes, Alfred," said Edwy, yawning; "but you know we can't all be
saints or heroes like him: for my part, I sometimes wish he had never
lived."

The astonished looks of the company seemed to demand further explanation.

"Because it is always, 'Alfred did this,' and 'Alfred did that.' If I am
tired of '_hic, haec, hoc_,' I am told Alfred was never weary; if I
complain of a headache, Dunstan says Alfred never complained of pain or
illness, but bore all with heroic fortitude, and all the rest of it. If
I want a better dinner than my respected uncle gives us on fast days in
the palace, I am told Alfred never ate anything beyond a handful of
parched corn on such days; if I lose my temper, I am told Alfred never