cked the live-long day. A charming fellow he was, with
eyes of heavenly blue, and a complexion of pure milk and roses; a true
boy, full of activity and vivacity, and with not a slight touch of
mischief in his composition. And yet he was such an affectionate and
good-hearted little soul, that his arms would be about your neck in a
moment, if he thought you were offended by his conduct; and so generous,
that he would take the cake from his own lips to give it to the
beggar--no trifling stretch of charity in a boy.

Is it wonderful, that Rudolph was the idol of his parents, the favorite
of his playmates, and the cherished darling of the whole castle? His
merry spirit and winning ways completely gained the hearts of the
servants and retainers, and many voices in the adjacent cottages were
loud in the praise of the beautiful, golden-haired boy. What a proud man
was Fritz, the old seneschal, when he taught him to manage the horse, to
couch the lance, and draw the bow! and when, for the first time, the
young heir followed him to the chase, who so happy as he? And Rudolph
reciprocated his affection; next to papa and dear mamma, sweet little
black-eyed Cousin Bertha, and the ugly, shaggy mastiff to which he was
devoted, old Fritz came in for his warmest love. And some people were
malicious enough to say that there was a strong resemblance between
these last two favorites, both in countenance and character; certain it
is, that both Bruno and Fritz were faithful, every ready to contribute
to his amusement, and although rough with other people, gentle enough
with their young master.

One day, in the absence of his father, he set out to ride, with Fritz
for his only attendant. It was a splendid afternoon; the sky was of that
pure exquisite blue you sometimes see, rendered deeper by a pile of
snowy clouds in the west; the birds were silent, as if unwilling to
disturb the holy calm of nature; not a leaf stirred, save here and there
a quivering aspen, emblem of a restless, discontented mind. Rudolph was
in excellent spirits, and Saladin, his good Arab steed, flew like the
wind; old Fritz tried to restrain his ardor, but in vain; the impetuous
boy kept far ahead. They were soon some miles from home, and Rudolph saw
before him a point where the road branched off in several directions,
one of them leading back again to the castle, another taking a circuit
of some distance, and a third, a narrow, unfrequented path, entering
into a dark fo