plain. He trudged bravely on by
his mother's side, holding the flowers tightly in his little hand, and
looking out of his great blue eyes for the king, in case the king should
ride out to meet them.

Every now and then Carl wished for his father, who was obliged to work
in the fields all day, and who had been up and away before Carl was
awake. Carl thought of the fine sights his father was missing,
especially when they came to the city, where the flags were flying from
every steeple and housetop and window.

There were as many people in the city as there were birds in the
country; and when the drums beat, the crowd rushed forward and everybody
called at once: "The king! the king! Long live the king!"

Carl's mother lifted him up in her arms that he might see, The king rode
slowly along on his great gray horse, with all his fine ladies and
gentlemen behind him; and little Carl threw his flowers with the rest
and waved his cap in his hand.

He felt sorry for his flowers after he had thrown them, because they
were trampled under the horses' feet and the king didn't care; and
after that he felt very tired, and his little hot hand slipped from his
mother's and he was carried away in the crowd.

He thought that his mother would surely come. But there were only
strange faces about him, and he was such a little lad that nobody
noticed him; and at last he was left behind, all alone.

He was very miserable, and the tears rolled down his cheeks; but he
remembered that it was the king's birthday, and that everybody must be
glad, so he wiped the tears away as he trudged along.

There were wonderful houses along the street, with great gardens in
front; and Carl thought that they must belong to the king, but he did
not want to go in. They were all too fine for him. But at last he
reached one which stood off by itself and had a tall, tall steeple and
great doors, through which hundreds of people were coming.

"Perhaps my mamma is there," thought little Carl. After he had watched
all the people come out, and had not seen her, he went up the white
marble steps and through the doors, and found himself all alone in a
very beautiful place.

The roof of the house was held up by great strong pillars, and the floor
had as many patterns on it as his mother's patchwork; and on every side
he saw windows,--beautiful windows like picture books,--and when he had
seen one, he wanted to see another, as you do when you are looking at
picture