and my people suffer thereby; for learning softeneth the heart and breedeth gentleness and charity.” {1}

The lights began to twinkle, it came on to rain, the wind rose, and a raw and gusty night set in. The houseless prince, the homeless heir to the throne of England, still moved on, drifting deeper into the maze of squalid alleys where the swarming hives of poverty and misery were massed together.

Suddenly a great drunken ruffian collared him and said —

“Out to this time of night again, and hast not brought a farthing home, I warrant me! If it be so, an’ I do not break all the bones in thy lean body, then am I not John Canty, but some other.”

The prince twisted himself loose, unconsciously brushed his profaned shoulder, and eagerly said —