laughing boy, Hanner Dyn, while at other times he seemed much as before
and appeared to have made but little progress. The youth seemed never
tired of wrestling; he always begged the king for a trial of skill, and
the king rejoiced to see how readily the young wrestler caught at the
tricks of the art; so that the time had long passed when even Arthur's
strength could toss him lightly in the air, as at first. Hanner Dyn was
growing with incredible rapidity into a tall young fellow, and instead of
the weakness that often comes with rapid growth, his muscles grew ever
harder and harder. Still merry and smiling, he began to wrestle in
earnest, and one day, in a moment of carelessness, Arthur received a back
fall, perhaps on moist ground, and measured his length. Rising with a
quick motion, he laughed at the angry faces of his attendants and bade the
boy farewell. The men at work in the fields glanced up, attracted by the
sound of voices, and he saw them exchange looks with one another.

Yet he felt his kingly dignity a little impaired, and hastened ere long
to revisit the island and teach the saucy boy another lesson. Months had
passed, and the youth had expanded into a man of princely promise, but
with the same sunny look. His shoulders were now broad, his limbs of the
firmest mould, his eye clear, keen, penetrating. "Of all the wrestlers I
have ever yet met," said the king, "this younker promises to be the most
formidable. I can easily throw him now, but what will he be a few years
hence?" The youth greeted him joyously, and they began their usual match.
The sullen serfs in the fields stopped to watch them, and an aged Druid
priest, whom Arthur had brought with him, to give the old man air and
exercise in the boat, opened his weak eyes and closed them again.

As they began to wrestle, the king felt, by the very grasp of the youth's
arms, by the firm set of his foot upon the turf, that this was to be
unlike any previous effort. The wrestlers stood after the old Cornish