wiftness and the clear sight and the strength, even if he could give up
the money?

"I know now," he thought bitterly, "how the Owl felt when she said she
would not be a feather-brain like the blue jay. And it is much more
important for a boy to be strong than for a common old lion, who is
pretty old anyway. And there are lots of hares in the forest and eagles
on the mountain."

Then Robin slowly climbed the stairs to the tower, for he thought he
would see what the Owl and the Hare and the Eagle and the Lion were
doing in the forest. He looked over to the cottage, leagues and leagues
away. There, under a big oak, lay the Owl, her feathers all a-flutter.
She had had no more sense than to go out in the brilliant sunshine, and
something had gone wrong inside her head. The saucy blue jay stood back
and mocked her. Robin's heart gave one little throb of pity, but he was
wise enough to see the value of wisdom, and he hardened himself. "I
don't believe she has sense enough to know that anything is wrong," he
said to himself.

Then he looked for the Hare. "Oh, he's all right," said Robin, gladly.
But just then he saw a dark shape, only about a mile away, following the
Hare's track.

Robin's heart gave two throbs of pity. "Poor old Hare!" he said. "I have
had lots of fun with him."

Then he looked for the Eagle, and his heart beat hard and fast when he
saw him sitting alone on the dead branch of a tree, one wing hanging
bruised, perhaps broken, and his sightless eyes turned toward the tower,
waiting, waiting. Blind!

[Illustration: "IT FOLLOWED THE HARE'S TRACK"]

Robin looked quickly for the Lion. For a time he could not find him, for
tears came in his eyes as he thought of the Eagle. Then he saw the poor
creature, panting from thirst, trying to drag himself to the river. He
was almost there when his last bit of strength seemed to fail, and he
lay still, with the water only a few yards away.

Then Robin's heart leaped and bounded with pity, and with pure
gladness, too, that he was not yet too late to save his friends from the
consequences of their own generosity. The last rays of sunset struck the
tower as Robin, forgetting all about his blue velvet clothes and the
princess and the Prize for Good Luck, ran and raced, uphill and down,
through brambles and briers, over bogs and hummocks, leaving bits of
lace caught on the bushes, swifter than ever he hastened to the Ogre of
Ogre Castle or to the lovely princess with th