the
country, wonder what she was doing, and ask that bonbons should be sent
to her. All Spain followed the course of his illness with profound
anxiety, and there was no one who did not sympathize with the widowed
mother in her affliction, and rejoice with her when the dangerous
symptoms passed away and the sick boy began to recover.

In October, 1892, Alfonso had another serious illness, the result of a
cold, contracted probably at the celebration of the fourth centenary of
the discovery of America at Huelva, where he presided at the
inauguration of the monument erected to Columbus on the hill of La
Rabida. This sickness also caused for a time the greatest uneasiness.

The young King begins the day by saluting the national flag from his
windows in the palace that look out upon the Plaza de Armas, where the
relieving of the guard takes place every morning at ten o'clock, a
ceremony which he loves to witness. He is passionately fond of
everything military. He takes a great interest in the soldiers, in what
they eat, and in other details of their life, and he often expresses
pity for the cold which the sentinels on guard at the palace must feel.
In the park at Miramar, when the troops are returning to their barracks
after drill, he may often be seen delightedly watching the soldiers
forming in line, and he returns their salute with a military salute. He
is very fond of horses, and the bigger they are the better he likes
them, as he himself says. He delights in military music and military
evolutions, and a review of the troops is one of his great pleasures. On
his seventh birthday he held a grand review of the troops, riding then
for the first time in public. On that occasion 40,000 troops were
reviewed.

Since that time his education has been directed less exclusively by
women than before. His chief companions are his tutor, and the General
who is the Captain of the King's guard, with whom he loves to talk about
military matters. He still has his little playmates, however, and toys
in abundance. He is fond of riding and driving, and he has a little
carriage of his own, with two small Moorish donkeys to draw it, which
looks very odd among all the large carriages in the royal stables in
Madrid.

When the weather is fine he spends almost the whole of the day at the
royal villa, called the Quinta del Pardo, situated a little outside
Madrid. He is driven there in a carriage generally drawn by four mules,
and is accompanie