Time passed, and both of the princes flourished. George was nourished by
his own mother, Wendelin by a hired nurse. They learned to babble and
coo, then to walk and talk, for in this respect the sons of dukes with
grey locks are just like other boys. And yet no two children are alike,
and if any schoolmaster tried to write an exhaustive treatise on the
subject of education, it would have to contain as many chapters as there
are boys and girls in the world, and it would not be one of the thinnest
books ever published.

The ducal twins from the beginning exhibited great differences.
Wendelin's hair was straight and, save for the grey lock, which hung over
his left temple like a mark of interrogation, jet black; George, on the
contrary, had curly brown hair. Their size remained equal until their
seventh year, when the younger brother began to outstrip the older. They
loved one another very fondly, but the amusements that pleased one failed
to attract the other; even their eyes seemed to have been made on
different patterns, for many things that seemed white to George appeared
black to his brother.

Both received equal care and were never left alone. The older brother
found this but natural, and he liked to lie still, and be fanned, or have
the flies brushed away from him, and to have some one read fairy stories,
which he loved, aloud to him until he dozed off to sleep. It was
astonishing how long and how soundly he could sleep. The courtiers said
that he was laying up a store of strength, to meet the demands that would
be made upon him when he came to the throne.

Even before he could speak plainly, he had learned to let others wait
upon him, and would never lift his little finger to do anything for
himself. His passive face and large melancholy eyes were wonderfully