“Wilt deign to deliver thy commands?”

“Commands? . . . O, woe is me, I know thy voice! Speak thou — who am I?”

“Thou? In sooth, yesternight wert thou the Prince of Wales; to-day art thou my most gracious liege, Edward, King of England.”

Tom buried his head among his pillows, murmuring plaintively —

“Alack, it was no dream!

Go to thy rest, sweet sir — leave me to my sorrows.”

Tom slept again, and after a time he had this pleasant dream. He thought it was summer, and he was playing, all alone, in the fair meadow called Goodman’s Fields, when a dwarf only a foot high, with long red whiskers and a humped back, appeared to him suddenly and said,