truly to love my fellow-men; to honour them, until they
prove worthless; to trust them, until they prove faithless; and ever to
expect better of them, than I expect of myself; to think better of
them, than I think of myself.' Let us go through life, my son,
searching for good in others, not for evil; we may miss the good, if we
search not for it; the evil, alas, will find us, quite soon enough,
unsought."

Suddenly Hugh lifted his head.

"Father," he said, "the starling! Mind you the starling with the
broken wing, which you and I found in the woods and carried home; and
you did set his wing, and tamed him, and taught him to say 'Hugh'?
Each time I brought him food, you said: 'Hugh! Hugh!' And soon the
starling, seeing me coming, also said: 'Hugh! Hugh!' Do you remember,
Father?"

"I do remember," said the Bishop. "I see thee now, coming across the
courtyard, bread and meat in thy hands--a little lad, bareheaded in the
sunshine, glowing with pleasure because the starling ran to meet thee,
shouting 'Hugh!'"

"Then listen, dear Father. (Ah, how often have I wished to tell you
this!) Soon after you were gone, that starling rudely taught me a hard
lesson. Gaining strength, one day he left the courtyard, ran through
the buttery, and wandered in the garden. I followed, whistling and
watching. It greatly delighted the bird to find himself on turf.
There had been rain. The grass was wet. Presently a rash worm,
gliding from its hole, adventured forth. The starling ran to the worm,
calling it 'Hugh.' 'Hugh! Hugh!' he cried, and tugged it from the
earth. 'Hugh! Hugh!' and pecked it, where helpless it lay squirming.
Then, shouting 'Hugh!' once more, gobbled it down. I stood with heavy
heart, for I had thought that starling loved me with a true, personal
love, when he ran at my approach shouting my name. Yet now I knew it
was the food I carried, he called 'Hugh'; it was the food, not me, he
loved. Glad was I when, his wing grown strong, he flew away. It cut
me to the heart to hear the worms, the grubs, the snails, the
caterpillars, all called 'Hugh'!"

The Bishop smiled, then sighed. "Poor little eager heart," he said,
"learning so hard a lesson, all alone! Yet is it a lesson, lad, sooner
or later learned in sadness by all generous hearts. . . . And now,
leaving the past, with all its memories, let us return to the present,
and face the uncertain future. Also, dear Knight, I must ask you to
remember