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*You cannot be in want of pleasure,' replied Jery courageously, "for here it is really too beautiful. But who are you?
'I am an unhappy prince, who has been robbed of his inheritance by a wicked man. That I might not be able to harm him, he has sent me hither, far, far from my native land. Ah, my fatherland! It lies opposite those high ice mountains, and is called Naples. There, it is never winter, and here I am often so cold! But I have said enough about myself. Come, my new young friend. I will now give you as much pleasure for your pleasant music as I can.'
The prince took Jery by the hand, and led him up and down through a row of rooms. One was still more splendid than the other. They were glittering with gold and silver, purple hangings, gay carpets, silken couches, and crystal candlesticks; everything was to be found here. The most costly things were put up in every room, the most beautiful singing-birds in glittering cages, the most wonderful pictures, rare toys, tempting fruits in golden dishes, adorned this dwelling of joy, and Jery clasped his hands together with wonder, and thought to himself in secret : 'How delightful it would be to live in this castle !' A hundred times he wished himself in the place of the prince, and he could not understand how he could feel sorrowful, when nothing was wanting in this splendid abundance.
With jests and play the hours passed by quickly and unnoticed, till late evening approached, and the prince, although unwillingly, had to remind his friend that they must part. With aching heart Jery prepared to leave the charming place and his delightful playfellow, and went, after promising many times to return. The sentinels saved him the trouble, and told him when he reached the gate, that he must now stay with the prince, and would never be allowed to leave the castle again.
Who was better pleased than Jery? who more delighted than the prince, who now had a companion, who seemed willing to share his lot with pleasure, and forget flock, home, and former friends, for this new mode of life! Games, stories, songs, and the sweet melodies of the flute shortened the days, and many of them had passed before discontent and sadness came into Jery's heart. The boy, who had always been so lively before, sat now for hours in a corner, while the prince sat in another to lament the sorrow of his friend. A nameless longing had taken possession of the shepherd-boy-home-sickness—a desire for freedom robbed him of his rest. In vain he rolled about on his silken cushions; in vain he tried to be pleased with the glittering toys. Sleep fled from his bed ; the toys became disgusting in his sight; the food in the golden dishes made him sick, as well as the wine in the crystal cup The song of the birds was tiresome; the funny chattering of the parrots he thought absurd ; even his flute he would no longer touch, and when he went to the window, looked out into the blue sky, and his glance fell upon the sunny fields or the green surface of the lake, tears came into his eyes. Weeping, he fled from the room; but the noise of arms at the gate reminded him that he was a prisoner in the fortress. The prince consoled him as well as he could, but he could not silence his longing for home.
It happened that the prince fell asleep one afternoon on his couch, and Jery went to the window once more to cry Behold! he fancied he saw his flocks grazing on the other side of the lake, and his faithful dog seemed to look at him, and wagged his tail, as if he wished to call his master over to him. It went to the boy's heart, and some voice within him cried : ‘Flee, flee quickly! This is the moment, or never!' He yielded to the feeling, and hastened to the door of the room. Then he thought of his young friend : to leave him was hard. He would see him once more. He went over to his couch. The prince seemed sound asleep; but when Jery bent down to him, to listen to his breathing, he became terrified, for his heart was no longer beating, no breath heaved his breast; a sweet death had delivered him gently from his sorrows. Jery rushed into the passage to cry for help, but the court was empty, the gate of the castle was open, and the sentinels had fallen asleep from the sultry heat. The moment was favourable. One more farewell to the departed friend, a short prayer to his Father in heaven, and the shepherd-boy stole safely past the soldiers out of the castle.
With hasty steps he had soon reached the spot where the faithful dog watched the flock intrusted to his care, though his
fare had made him lean. The lambs and their four-footed protector received their long wished-for master with the greatest joy; and full of delight to have escaped the prison, Jery commenced a merry mountainlay. But the prince no longer leaned from the window to listen, and fresh tears to his memory interrupted the shepherd's song. The fresh evening breeze, the murmuring of the lake, and the joyful advances of his flock gave him the purest delight. Once more he saluted the gray castle, in which he had spent few happy and many evil hours, and he drove his sheep across the mountain to his home.
His breast grew light, as he breathed the fragrant flowers and the pure air; and as he went through the evening landscape, glowing in rosy light, and from afar beheld the modest thatched-roof of his father's cottage, he shouted aloud with joy; and driving his flock to quicker pace by the sound of his flute, he cried : Welcome, my father's roof! welcome, valley of my home! How gladly I have left the costly palace to return to thee! Here I find no gold or silver, or precious stones ; but free from bars, no longer threatened by the swords of cruel watchmen, I shall enjoy calm peace I shall be poor but I shall be happy.'
THE SAILOR'S MOTHER.
A foggy day in winter-time),
Not old, though something past her prime :
The ancient spirit is not dead;
Old times, thought I, are breathing there;
Such strength, a dignity so fair :
estate; I looked at her again, nor did my pride abate.
Protected from this cold damp air ?'
“I had a son, who many a day
In Denmark he was cast away : And I have travelled weary miles to see If aught that he had owned might still remain for me.
'Twas my son's bird ; and neat and trim
The singing bird had gone with him; When last he sailed, he left the bird behind; From bodings, as might be, that hung upon his mind.'
An active clever lad in the country never need feel dull-never experience that miserable sensation of wanting something to do. The objects of attraction, of employment, and amusement, that I have already mentioned, would be enough to prevent that; but if a lad has a turn for mechanical inventions and labours, there is another vast and inexhaustible source of pleasure open