The word of a king is law to his courtiers; so sorely against their wish the angry chamberlains let August slide out of their grasp, and he stood there in his little rough sheepskin coat and his thick, mud-covered boots, in the most beautiful room he had ever dreamed of, and in the 5 presence of a young man with eyes full of dreams and fire. And the young man said to him:

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'My child, how came you here, hidden in this stove? Tell me the truth. I am the king."

Then August cast down upon the floor his old battered 10 hat, and folded his little brown hands. He was so glad -so glad it was the king.

"Oh, dear king!" he said in his faint little voice, "Hirschvogel was ours, and we have loved it all our lives. But father sold it, and I have come all the way 15 inside it, and I do beg you to let me live with it, and I will go out every morning to cut wood for it, if only you will let me stay beside it."

Now there was something in the child's face which pleased and touched the king. He motioned to his gen- 20 tlemen to leave the child alone.

"Have you truly traveled inside this stove all the way?" he asked.

“Yes,” said August; "no one thought to look inside till you did."

25

The king laughed; then another view of the matter occurred to him.

"Who bought the stove of your father?" he inquired. "Traders of Munich," said August simply.

5 "Do you know what sum they paid?" asked the king. "Two hundred florins," said August, with a great sigh of shame. "It was so much money, and he is so poor, and there are so many of us.'

"Send for these dealers of Munich," the king said to 10 his chamberlains. "And now, my little fellow, you are very pale. When did you eat last?"

15

"I had some bread and sausage with me; yesterday afternoon I finished it."

"You would like to eat now?"

"If I might have a little water I should be glad; my throat is very dry," said August.

The king had water and food brought for the boy, but August could not eat though he drank eagerly. "May I stay with Hirschvogel? May I stay?" he 20 begged.

"Wait a little," said the king.

to be when you are a man?"

"What do you wish

"A painter," said August. "I wish to be what Hirschvogel was I mean the master that made my Hirsch25 Vogel."

"I understand," said the king.

Then the two dealers were brought into their sovereign's presence. They were so greatly alarmed that they looked very foolish indeed.

"Did you buy this stove for two hundred florins?" 5

the king asked them, and his voice was no longer kind, but very stern.

"Yes, Your Majesty," murmured the traders.

"And how much did the gentleman who purchased it for me give to you?"

"Two thousand ducats, Your Majesty," answered the dealers.

10

"You will give at once to this boy's father the two thousand gold ducats that you received, less the two hundred florins that you paid him," said the king. "You are great rogues. Be thankful that I do not punish you 5 further."

August heard and felt dazzled, yet miserable.

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"O please let me stay," he murmured, joining his little brown hands.

"Will I let you stay?" said the king. "Yes, you shall 10 stay at my court and be taught to be a painter, — in oils or on porcelain, as you will, and if when you are twentyone you have done bravely, I will give you the Nürnberg stove."

August is only a scholar yet, but he is a happy scholar 15 and promises to be a great man. Sometimes he goes back to his home and there in the old room is a large white porcelain stove, the gift of the king; and the boy never fails to go into the great church and give his thanks to God, who blessed his strange journey in the Nürnberg 20 stove.

Adapted.

Nürnberg Nuremberg, the chief town of Bavaria. — August (ow'goost): Augustus. Hirschvogel (hirsh-fo'g'l): August Hirschvogel was a famous pottery painter of Nuremburg. — heirloom: any personal property handed down from one generation to another. — chamberlain: an officer of the king's household. flor'in a silver coin worth about thirty-five cents in Austria. - duc'at: a gold ducat is worth about two dollars.

THE WILD DOVES OF ST. FRANCIS

WILLIAM E. A. AXON

WILLIAM E. A. Axon (1846- ) is an English writer who is actively interested in education and in reform movements of various kinds.

NOTE. This legend was originally given in an Italian book called "The Little Flowers of St. Francis." Francis, the founder of a famous religious order, is here represented as coming forth from a little church.

A Tuscan peasant youth he saw, who bore
Tethered and bound a swarm of young wild doves,
Poor pris'ners who were doomed to sale and death.
St. Francis, who loved all the things on earth,
All gentle creatures that have breath and life,
Felt in his heart a deep compassion born,
And looked at them with eyes of tender ruth.
"O good young man," he cried, "I pray that you
Will give to me these poor and harmless birds —
Sweet emblems they of pure and faithful souls —
So they may never fall in ruthless hands
That quench such lives in cruelty and blood."

The youth had snared the birds within the woods,
Was taking them to market, where their doom
He knew was slaughter- sudden, cruel death;
Nor had one thought of pity moved his mind,
And yet, when gentle Francis made his plea
It found an answer in the young man's heart;