ere none whom
they despised more than the gypsies, who lived in the forest round about
them.

There was no place in all England then so full of gypsies as the forest
of Norwood.

Mr. and Mrs. Lawley had been married many years without having children.
At length they had a son, whom they called Edwy. They could not make
enough of their only child or dress him too finely.

When he was just old enough to run about without help, he used to wear
his trousers inlaid with the finest lace, with golden studs and laced
robings. He had a plume of feathers in his cap, which was of velvet,
with a button of gold to fasten it up in front under the feathers. He
looked so fine that whoever saw him with the servants who attended him
used to say, "Whose child is that?"

He was a pretty boy, too, and when his first sorrow came he was still
too young to have learned any proud ways.

No one is so rich as to be above the reach of trouble, and when at last
it came to Mr. and Mrs. Lawley it was all the more terrible.

One day the proud parents had been away some hours visiting a friend a
few miles distant. On their return Edwy was nowhere to be found. His
waiting-maid was gone, and had taken away his finest clothes. At least,
these also were missing.

The poor father and mother were almost beside themselves with grief. All
the gentlemen and magistrates round about helped in the search and tried
to discover who had stolen him. But it was all in vain. Of course the
gypsies were suspected and well examined, but nothing could be made of
it.

Nor was it ever found out how the child had been carried off. But
carried off he had been by the gypsies, and taken away to a country
among hills between Worcester and Hereford.

In that country was a valley with a river running deep at the bottom.
There were many trees and bushes, rocks and caves and holes there.
Indeed, it was the best possible place for the haunt of wild people.

To this place the gypsies carried the little boy, and there they kept
him all the following winter, warm in a hut with some of their own
children.

They stripped him of his velvet and feathers and lace and golden clasps
and studs, and clothed him in rags and daubed his fair skin with mud.
But they fed him well, and after a little while he was quite happy and
contented.

Perhaps the cunning gypsies hoped that during the long months of winter
the child would quite forget the few words he had learned to speak
distinctl