serve God by becoming a member of the legislature.
Ah, here is Albany! Good day, sir; don't forget the wedge. And if you
will, I wish you would remember the watchword--'Hinder nobody--Help
everybody.'"

PRINCE EDWIN AND HIS PAGE.

A TALE OF THE ANGLO-SAXONS.

CHAPTER I.

On a certain high festival, which was set apart by Saxon monarchs for
receiving the petitions of the poor, and the appeals of such of their
subjects as had any cause of complaint, the great King Athelstane sat
enthroned in royal state, to listen to the applications of all who came
to prefer their suits to him.

In one corner of the hall stood a noble-looking Saxon lady dressed in
deep mourning, and holding a little boy by the hand. The lady was
evidently a widow, and of high rank, for she wore a widow's hood and
barb--the barb, a piece of white lawn, that covered the lower part of
the face, being worn only by widows of high degree. The little boy,
too, was also arrayed in black attire; his youthful countenance bore an
expression of the utmost grief, and his large blue eyes were full of
tears. This sorrowful pair did not press forward like the other
petitioners, but kept at a modest distance from the throne, evidently
waiting for the king to give them some encouraging signal before they
ventured to approach him.

The royal Athelstane's attention was at length attracted by the anxious
glances which both mother and son bent upon him; and as he perceived
that they were in distress, he waved his hand for them to draw near.

"Who are ye?" said the king, when the mournful widow and her son, in
obedience to his encouraging sign, advanced, and bowed the knee before
him.

"Will my royal lord be graciously pleased to answer me one question
before I reply to that which he has asked of me?" said the Saxon lady.

"Speak on," replied King Athelstane.

"Is it just that the innocent should suffer for the guilty, O King?"
said she.

"Assuredly not," replied the king.

"Then, wherefore," said the Saxon lady, "hast thou deprived my son,
Wilfrid, of his inheritance, for the fault of his father? Cendric has
already paid the forfeit of his life for having unhappily leagued
himself with a traitor who plotted against thy royal life; but this
boy, his guiltless orphan, did never offend thee! Why, then, should he
be doomed to poverty and contempt?"

"It was the crime of the traitor Cendric, not my will, that deprived
his son of his inheritance," s