dish for such active sports as the rest were
engaged in, but that the lordly glance of his clear blue eye, his firm
tread, and the noble carriage of his shapely head, had in them
something of command, which attracted notice even before the exceeding
beauty of his perfectly moulded face, and long waving curls of golden
hair.

So like him, that they might have passed for brothers, was one of the
elder boys, who stood near--there was the same high white brow, proud
lip, regular features, and bright eye; but the complexion, though
naturally fair, was tanned to a healthy brown where exposed to the sun;
the frame was far stronger and more robust; and the glance of the eye
had more in it of pride and impatience, than of calm command so
remarkable in the little one. The three boys were standing in
consultation over an arrow which they had just discovered, stuck deep
in the ground.

"'Tis my arrow, that I shot over the mark on Monday," said the elder.

"Nay, Harry," said the younger boy, "that cannot be; for remember
Thomas Holland said your arrow would frighten the good nuns of St.
Ursula in their garden."

"It must be mine," persisted Harry--"for none of you all can shoot as
far."

"Yes, English Arthur can," said the little boy. "He shot a whole
cloth-yard beyond you the day--"

"Well, never mind, Edward," said Harry, sharply--"who cares for
arrows?--weapons for clowns, and not for Princes!"

"Nay, not so, Lord Harry," interrupted the third boy: "I have heard my
uncle say, many a time, that England's archery is half her
strength--and how it was our archers at the battle of Crecy--"

"I know all that--how the men of Genoa had wet bow-strings, and ours
dry ones," said Henry; "but they were peasants, after all!"

"Ay; but a King of England should know how to praise and value his good
yeomen."

Henry turned on his heel, and, saying, "Well, let the arrow be whose it
will, I care not for it," walked off.

"Do you know why Harry of Lancaster goes, Arthur?" said Edward, smiling.

"No, my Lord," replied Arthur.

"He cannot bear to hear aught of King of England," was the answer. "If
you love me, good Arthur, vex him not with speaking of it."

"Father Cyril would say, he ought to learn content with the rank where
he was born," said Arthur.

"Father Cyril, again!" said Prince Edward. "You cannot live a day
without speaking of him, and of your uncle."

"I do not speak of them so much now," said Arthur, colouring, "I