ng, trees stirring, insects whirring (dear me! I am quite
unconsciously writing rhyme), with the various cries of birds and
beasts,--lowing cattle, bleating sheep, grunting pigs, and cackling
hens,--all the infinite discords that somehow or other make a beautiful
harmony.

We hear this, and are so accustomed to it that we think nothing of it;
but Prince Dolor, who had lived all his days in the dead silence of
Hopeless Tower, heard it for the first time. And oh! if you had seen his
face.

He listened, listened, as if he could never have done listening. And he
looked and looked, as if he could not gaze enough. Above all, the motion
of the animals delighted him: cows walking, horses galloping, little
lambs and calves running races across the meadows, were such a treat for
him to watch--he that was always so quiet. But, these creatures having
four legs, and he only two, the difference did not strike him painfully.

Still, by and by, after the fashion of children,--and I fear, of many
big people too,--he began to want something more than he had, something
fresh and new.

"Godmother," he said, having now begun to believe that, whether he saw
her or not, he could always speak to her with full confidence that she
would hear him--"Godmother, all these creatures I like exceedingly; but
I should like better to see a creature like myself. Couldn't you show me
just one little boy?"

There was a sigh behind him,--it might have been only the wind,--and
the cloak remained so long balanced motionless in air that he was half
afraid his godmother had forgotten him, or was offended with him for
asking too much. Suddenly a shrill whistle startled him, even through
his silver ears, and looking downward, he saw start up from behind a
bush on a common, something----

Neither a sheep nor a horse nor a cow--nothing upon four legs. This
creature had only two; but they were long, straight, and strong. And it
had a lithe, active body, and a curly head of black hair set upon
its shoulders. It was a boy, a shepherd-boy, about the Prince's own
age--but, oh! so different.

Not that he was an ugly boy--though his face was almost as red as his
hands, and his shaggy hair matted like the backs of his own sheep. He
was rather a nice-looking lad; and seemed so bright and healthy and
good-tempered--"jolly" would be the word, only I am not sure if they
have such a one in the elegant language of Nomansland--that the little
Prince watched him with great