to take the gold combs from thy hair or to change thy
white robe for one less fair. This is thy wedding-day, and I have
come to claim my bride.' And King Horn flung aside the old torn
coat, and the Princess Jean saw that beneath the rags Hynde Horn
was clothed as one of kingly rank.

Then throughout the palace the tidings spread, 'Hynde Horn hath
come back, Hynde Horn hath come back, and now is he king of his
own country.'

And that very day King Horn was wedded to the beautiful Princess
Jean, with her father's blessing, and amid the rejoicings of the
people.

And Prince Fykenyld slunk away, ashamed to look his old playmate
in the face.

Not many months passed ere King Horn and Queen Jean sailed away
to reign together in the far East. And never again in the years
to come did the diamonds on King Horn's ring grow dull or dim.

THOMAS THE RHYMER

It is six hundred years ago since Thomas the Rhymer lived and
rhymed, and in those far-off days little need was there to tell
his tale. It was known far and wide throughout the countryside.

Thomas was known as Thomas the Rhymer because of the wonderful
songs he sang. Never another harper in all the land had so great
a gift as he. But at that no one marvelled, no one, that is to
say, who knew that he had gained his gift in Elfland.

When Thomas took his harp in his hand and touched the strings, a
hush would fall upon those who heard, were they princes or were
they peasants. For the magic of his music reached the hearts of
all who stood around him. Were the strains merry, gleeful? The
faces of those who heard were wreathed in smiles. Were they sad,
melancholy? The faces of those who looked upon the harpist were
bathed in tears. Truly Thomas the Rhymer held the hearts of the
people in his hand.

But the minstrel had another name, wonderful as the one I have
already told to you.

Thomas the Rhymer was named True Thomas, and that was because,
even had he wished it, Thomas could not say or sing what was not
true.

This gift too, as you will hear, was given to him by the Queen of
Elfland.

And yet another name had this wonderful singer.

He was born, so the folk said, in a little village called
Ercildoune. He lived there, so the folk knew, in a castle
strongly built on the banks of a little river. Thus to those who
dwelt in the countryside the Rhymer was known as Thomas of
Ercildoune. The river which flowed past the castle was the
Leader. It flowed broader