y "sad little
prince" in the history of the world. His story is simply more notable,
and perhaps more pathetic, than that of other unfortunate boys because
of the greatness and splendor of his father's name, and because not even
the shadow of that mighty name could save from sorrow, pain, and death
the short young life that should rather have been full of pleasure and
of promise, and should have made itself a power in the union of races
and the history of the world.

COBWEB LANE.

BY FRANKLIN MATTHEWS.

The most curious and interesting highway that I know of is Cobweb Lane,
and I very much doubt if any of my readers ever heard of it. I am sure,
however, that some of them have been in it in the daytime, but strangely
enough they have never seen it, for the peculiar reason that Cobweb Lane
doesn't exist in the daytime. It only exists at night. It isn't some
out-of-the-way and quaint place in London, as, at first thought, its
name might indicate, but it is in the most conspicuous place in Greater
New York. I'll let you into the secret--I am quite sure it is a secret
with me--and tell you where it is and what it is.

Cobweb Lane is nothing more nor less than the promenade on the Brooklyn
Bridge. It doesn't exist until after midnight, because not until then do
the strands that hang from the big cables resemble the huge cobwebs that
have suggested the name Cobweb Lane. The moon has to be in just the
right position; the great cities of New York and Brooklyn must have gone
to bed and left numerous lights, some in full glare and some turned
down; the water in the river below must have a thin veil of mist hanging
over it, and then, in the stillness of the night, if you will walk over
the bridge you will see Cobweb Lane.

[Illustration: YOU ARE NOW AT THE BEGINNING OF COBWEB LANE.]

There is East Cobweb Lane and West Cobweb Lane. The first is on the
Brooklyn side of the bridge and the other is on the New York side. As
you walk out on the promenade and look over the cities and the beautiful
harbor, perhaps you soon will turn your eyes to the top of one of the
towers as you approach it. You are now at the beginning of Cobweb Lane.
The four big cables curve down from the top and hide themselves in some
masonry at your feet, and when you look up the narrow spaces between
them, as they reach away before you, the eye catches sight of strands of
steel rope, woven regularly and gracefully, hanging from the cables and
extend