the false charcoal-man walked by day, and walked by night, till he
found refuge in the castle of the King Ladislaus; and he met him in the
old school-room where they read the fables together. And he remembered
how the water-rat came to the home of the beavers.

And he said to King Ladislaus,--

"Ah, me! do you remember when we were boys together? Do you remember the
fable of the Sky-lark, and the fable of the Water-rat?"

"I remember both," said the King. And he was silent.

"God has been very kind to you," said the beggar; "and He has been very
hard to me."

And the King said nothing.

But the old priest Stephen, said,--

"God is always kind. But God will not give us other fruit than we sow
seed for. The King here has tried to serve God as he knew how; with one
single eye he has looked on the world of God, and he has made the best
choice he knew. And God has given him what he thought not of: brave men
for his knights; wise men for his council; a free and loving people for
his army. And you have not looked with a single eye; your eye was
darkened. You saw only what served yourself. And you said, 'This is
enough;' and you had no brave men for your knights; no wise men for your
council; no people for your army. You chose to look down, and to take a
selfish brute for your adviser. And he has led you so far. We choose to
look up; to draw nearer God; and where He leads we follow."

Then King Ladislaus ordered that in the old school-room a bed should be
spread for Bela; and that every day his breakfast and his dinner and his
supper should be served to him; and he lived there till he died.

THE STORY OF OELLO.

Once upon a time there was a young girl, who had the pretty name of
Oello. I say, once upon a time, because I do not know when the time
was,--nor do I know what the place was,--though my story, in the main,
is a true story. I do not mean that I sat by and saw Oello when she wove
and when she spun. But I know she did weave and did spin. I do not mean
that I heard her speak the word I tell of; for it was many, many hundred
years ago. But I do know that she must have said some such words; for I
know many of the things which she did, and much of what kind of girl she
was.

She grew up like other girls in her country. She did not know how to
read. None of them knew how to read. But she knew how to braid straw,
and to make fish-nets and to catch fish. She did not know how to spell.
Indeed, in that countr