e you in and cuddle you. That is, if I might--if I dared."

He was so absorbed that he forget all regret and pain, forgot everything
in the world except the little lark, and he was just wondering if it
would soar out of sight, when it suddenly closed its wings, as larks do
when they mean to drop to the ground. But, instead of dropping to the
ground, it dropped right into the little boy's breast.

When he came in sight of Hopeless Tower, a painful thought struck him.

"My pretty bird, what am I to do with you? If I take you into my room
and shut you up there, you will surely die for I heard my nurse once say
that the nicest thing she ever ate in her life was lark pie!"

The little boy shivered all over at the thought, and in another minute
he had made up his mind.

"No, my bird, nothing so dreadful shall happen to you if I can help it;
I would rather do without you altogether. Fly away, my darling! Good-bye
my merry, merry bird."

Opening his two caressing hands, in which, as for protection, he had
folded it, he let the lark go. It lingered a minute, perched on the rim
of the cloak, and looked at him with eyes of almost human tenderness;
then away it flew.

But, sometime after, when Prince Dolor had eaten his supper, and gone to
bed, suddenly he heard outside the window a little faint carol--faint
but cheerful--even though it was the middle of the night.

The dear little lark, it had not flown away after all, but had remained
about the tower and he listened to its singing and went to sleep very
happy.

CHAPTER VII.

After this journey which had given the Prince so much pain, his desire
to see the world had somehow faded away. He contented himself with
reading his books, and looking out of the tower windows, and listening
to his beloved little lark, which had come home with him that day, and
had never left him again.

True, it kept out of the way; but though his nurse sometimes faintly
heard it, and said, "What is that horrid noise outside?" she never got
the faintest chance to make the lark into a pie.

All during the winter the little bird cheered and amused him. He
scarcely needed anything more--not even his traveling cloak, which lay
bundled unnoticed in a corner, tied up in its many knots.

Prince Dolor was now a big boy. Not tall--alas! he never could be that,
with his poor little shrunken legs. But he was stout and strong, with
great sturdy shoulders, and muscular arms, upon which he could sw