my friend!"

The king turned about, and walked sadly away; and the miller went back
to his work singing:--

"Oh, I'm as happy as happy can be,
For I live by the side of the River Dee!"

SIR PHILIP SIDNEY.

A cruel battle was being fought. The ground was covered with dead and
dying men. The air was hot and stifling. The sun shone down without
pity on the wounded soldiers lying in the blood and dust.

One of these soldiers was a no-ble-man, whom everybody loved for his
gen-tle-ness and kindness. Yet now he was no better off than the
poorest man in the field. He had been wounded, and would die; and he
was suf-fer-ing much with pain and thirst.

When the battle was over, his friends hurried to his aid. A soldier
came running with a cup in his hand.

"Here, Sir Philip," he said, "I have brought you some clear, cool
water from the brook. I will raise your head so that you can drink."

The cup was placed to Sir Philip's lips. How thank-ful-ly he looked at
the man who had brought it! Then his eyes met those of a dying soldier
who was lying on the ground close by. The wist-ful look in the poor
man's face spoke plainer than words.

"Give the water to that man," said Sir Philip quickly; and then,
pushing the cup toward him, he said, "Here, my comrade, take this. Thy
need is greater than mine."

What a brave, noble man he was! The name of Sir Philip Sidney will
never be for-got-ten; for it was the name of a Chris-tian gen-tle-man
who always had the good of others in his mind. Was it any wonder that
everybody wept when it was heard that he was dead?

It is said, that, on the day when he was carried to the grave, every
eye in the land was filled with tears. Rich and poor, high and low,
all felt that they had lost a friend; all mourned the death of the
kindest, gentlest man that they had ever known.

THE UNGRATEFUL SOLDIER.

Here is another story of the bat-tle-field, and it is much like the
one which I have just told you.

Not quite a hundred years after the time of Sir Philip Sidney there
was a war between the Swedes and the Danes. One day a great battle was
fought, and the Swedes were beaten, and driven from the field. A
soldier of the Danes who had been slightly wounded was sitting on the
ground. He was about to take a drink from a flask. All at once he
heard some one say,--

"O sir! give me a drink, for I am dying."

It was a wounded Swede who spoke. He was lying on the ground only a