life would be a lone one without me."

"And you must stay with her," said the prince with decision; "at
least so long as you are a child. When you are a grown man it will
be different. Some day I will send for you, and you shall be my
first and best friend; but it cannot be now. My mother might not
approve my choice, and yours might not let you go. Princes as well
as other men have to wait for what they want"--and the child
sighed--"but some day our turn will come."

Then they resumed their play, and the hoary wood resounded to the
merry shouts of the boys as they ran hither and thither in active
sport, till the little prince was fairly tired out, though, still
exulting in his escape from maternal vigilance, he stoutly
protested against going back.

"See, good Paul," he said, "here is a right commodious hollow tree,
heaped with last year's dead leaves. I will rest awhile hidden away
here, where none will find me were they to look for me ever so. And
if you could find and bring me here a draught of water from the
brook or from some spring, I should be ever grateful. I am sore
athirst and weary, too."

The child was nevertheless much pleased with his nest, and
forthwith curled himself up in it like a young dormouse, delighting
in the conviction that no attendants despatched by his mother to
capture him would ever find him here. Boys have been young pickles
ever since the world began, and were just as full of pranks in the
fifteenth century as they are now. Edward had: a full share of
boyhood's mischievous delight in his own way, and owing to the