the end of the Tortoise.

It is a very good thing to be able to hold one's tongue!

FOOTNOTES:

[27] Very freely adapted from one of the _Fables of Bidpai_.

ROBERT OF SICILY[28]

An old legend says that there was once a king named Robert of Sicily,
who was brother to the Great Pope of Rome and to the Emperor of
Allemaine. He was a very selfish king, and very proud; he cared more for
his pleasures than for the needs of his people, and his heart was so
filled with his own greatness that he had no thought for God.

One day, this proud king was sitting in his place at church, at vesper
service; his courtiers were about him, in their bright garments, and he
himself was dressed in his royal robes. The choir was chanting the Latin
service, and as the beautiful voices swelled louder, the king noticed
one particular verse which seemed to be repeated again and again. He
turned to a learned clerk at his side and asked what those words meant,
for he knew no Latin.

"They mean, 'He hath put down the mighty from their seats, and hath
exalted them of low degree,'" answered the clerk.

"It is well the words are in Latin, then," said the king angrily, "for
they are a lie. There is no power on earth or in heaven which can put me
down from my seat!" and he sneered at the beautiful singing, as he
leaned back in his place.

Presently the king fell asleep, while the service went on. He slept
deeply and long. When he awoke the church was dark and still, and he was
all alone. He, the king, had been left alone in the church, to awake in
the dark! He was furious with rage and surprise, and, stumbling through
the dim aisles, he reached the great doors and beat at them, madly,
shouting for his servants.

The old sexton heard some one shouting and pounding in the church, and
thought it was some drunken vagabond who had stolen in during the
service. He came to the door with his keys and called out, "Who is
there?"

"Open! open! It is I, the king!" came a hoarse, angry voice from within.

"It is a crazy man," thought the sexton; and he was frightened. He
opened the doors carefully and stood back, peering into the darkness.
Out past him rushed the figure of a man in tattered, scanty clothes,
with unkempt hair and white, wild face. The sexton did not know that he
had ever seen him before, but he looked long after him, wondering at his
wildness and his haste.

In his fluttering rags, without hat or cloak, not knowing what strang