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the jeering crowd closed around the poor little prince, and hustled him far down the road, hooting him, and shouting, “Way for his royal Highness! way for the Prince of Wales!”

IV
    The Prince’s Troubles Begin
    A fter hours of persistent pursuit and persecution, the little prince was at last deserted by the rabble and left to himself. As long as he had been able to rage against the mob, and threaten it royally, and royally utter commands that were good stuff to laugh at, he was very entertaining; but when weariness finally forced him to be silent, he was no longer of use to his tormentors, and they sought amusement elsewhere. He looked about him, now, but could not recognize the locality. He was within the city of London—that was all he knew. He moved on, aimlessly, and in a little while the houses thinned, and the passers-by were infrequent. He bathed his bleeding feet in the brook which flowed then where Farringdon Street now is; rested a few moments, then passed on, and presently came upon a great space with only a few scattered houses in it, and a prodigious church. He recognized this church. Scaffoldings were about, everywhere, and swarms of workmen; for it was undergoing elaborate repairs. The prince took heart at once—he felt that his troubles were at an end now. He said to himself, “It is the ancient Grey Friars’ church, which the king my father hath taken from the monks and given for a home forever for poor and forsaken children, and new-named it Christ’s Church. 11 Right gladly will they serve the son of him who hath done so generously by them—and the more that that son is himself as poor and as forlorn as any that be sheltered here this day, or ever shall be.”
    He was soon in the midst of a crowd of boys who were running, jumping, playing at ball and leap-frog and otherwise disporting themselves, and right noisily, too. They were all dressed alike, and in the fashion which in that day prevailed among serving-men and ’prentices f —that is to say, each had on the crown of his head a flat black cap about the size of a saucer, which was not useful as a covering, it being of such scanty dimensions, neither was it ornamental; from beneath it the hair fell, unparted, to the middle of the forehead, and was cropped straight around; a clerical band at the neck; a blue gown that fitted closely and hung as low as the knees or lower; full sleeves, a broad red belt; bright yellow stockings, gartered above the knees; low shoes with large metal buckles. It was a sufficiently ugly costume.
    The boys stopped their play and flocked about the prince, who said with native dignity:
    “Good lads, say to your master that Edward Prince of Wales desireth speech with him.”
    A great shout went up, at this, and one rude fellow said:
    “Marry, † art thou his grace’s messenger, beggar?”
    The prince’s face flushed with anger, and his ready hand flew to his hip, but there was nothing there. There was a storm of laughter, and one boy said:
    “Didst mark that? He fancied he had a sword—belike he is the prince himself.”
    This sally brought more laughter. Poor Edward drew himself up proudly and said:
    “I am the prince; and it ill beseemeth you that feed upon the king my father’s bounty to use me so.”
    This was vastly enjoyed, as the laughter testified. The youth who had first spoken, shouted to his comrades:
    “Ho, swine, slaves, pensioners of his grace’s princely father, where be your manners? Down on your marrow bones, all of ye, and do reverence to his kingly port and royal rags!”
    With boisterous mirth they dropped upon their knees in a body and did mock homage to their prey. The prince spurned the nearest boy with his foot, and said fiercely:
    “Take thou that, till the morrow come and I build thee a gibbet!” ‡
    Ah, but this was not a joke—this was going beyond fun. The laughter ceased on the instant, and fury took its place. A dozen shouted:
    “Hale him forth! To the horse-pond, to the