memory. Look upon me. Am not I thy mother that bore thee, and loveth thee?"
The prince shook his head, and reluctantly said,—
"God knoweth I am loath to grieve thy heart; but truly have I never looked upon thy face before."
The woman sank back to a sitting posture on the floor, and, covering her eyes with her hands, gave way to heartbroken sobs and wailings.
"Let the show go on!" shouted Canty. "What, Nan! what, Bet! Mannerless wenches! will ye stand in the prince's presence? Upon your knees, ye pauper scum, and do him reverence!"
He followed this with another horse-laugh. The girls began to plead timidly for their brother; and Nan said,—
"An' thou wilt but let him to bed, father, rest and sleep will heal his madness: prithee, do."
"Do, father," said Bet: "he is more worn than is his wont. Tomorrow will he be himself again, and will beg with diligence, and come not empty home again."
This remark sobered the father's joviality, and brought his mind to business. He turned angrily upon the prince, and said,—
"The morrow must we pay two pennies to him that owns this hole; two pennies, mark ye,—all this money for a half-year's rent, else out of this we go. Show what thou'st gathered with thy lazy begging."
The prince said,—
"Offend me not with thy sordid matters. I tell thee again I am the King's son."
A sounding blow upon the prince's shoulder from Canty's broad palm sent him staggering into goodwife Canty's arms, who clasped him to her breast, and sheltered him from a pelting rain of cuffs and slaps by interposing her own person. The frightened girls retreated
