ht again. Ah, how beautiful the outside world would look
to me now!"

The next day he was so hungry that he began to eat one of the old
withered apples, and as he bit it he thought of the bird, his
fellow-prisoner. "You must be hungry, too, poor little thing," said he
as he divided his miserable food and put part of it into the bird's
cage. Again came the harsh, grating sound, and the boy noticed that the
cracks of light were growing larger. Still they were only cracks,
nothing of the outside world could be seen. Still it was a comfort not
to have to grope about in total darkness. Prince Harweda felt quite sure
that the cracks of light were a little wider, and on going up to one and
putting his eye close to it as he would to a pinhole in a paper, he was
rejoiced to find that he could tell the greenness of the grass from the
blue of the sky. "Ah, my pretty bird, my pretty bird!" he cried
joyfully, "I have had a glimpse of the great beautiful outside world and
you shall have it too."

With these words he climbed up into a chair and loosening the cage from
the golden chain by which it hung, he carried it carefully to the
nearest crack of light and placed it close to the narrow opening. Again
was heard the harsh, grating sound and the walls moved a bit and the
windows were now at least an inch wide. At this the poor Prince clasped
his hands with delight. He sat himself down near the bird cage and gazed
out of the narrow opening. Never before had the trees looked so tall and
stately, or the white clouds floating through the sky so lovely. The
next day as he was carefully cleaning the bird's cage so that the little
creature might be somewhat more comfortable, the walls again creaked and
groaned and the mirrors grew narrower by just so many inches as the
windows widened. But Prince Harweda saw only the flood of sunshine that
poured in, and the added beauty of the larger landscape. He cared
nothing whatever now for the stupid mirrors which could only reflect
what was placed before them. Each day he found something new and
beautiful in the view from the narrow windows. Now it was a squirrel
frisking about and running up some tall tree trunk so rapidly that
Prince Harweda could not follow it with his eyes; again it was a mother
bird feeding her young. By this time the windows were a foot wide or
more. One day as two white doves suddenly soared aloft in the blue sky
the poor little canary who had now become the tenderly cared for