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her horse's heels. A chill breath came pitching down from the mountain tops, keen and crisp, and we arose to enter the cabin.

I put my hand on his arm, reached up and touched the long, black curls that lay on his shoulder, for I am now as tall as he.

"Nevertheless," said I, "you are really a Prince, are you not?"

"A Prince!" said he with surprise. "Why, what in the world put that into your head?" and he put my hand playfully aside and looked in my face. He patted the ground in the old, old way, smiled so gently, so graciously and kind, that I almost regretted I had spoken. "A Prince! indeed!"

"Then pray, once for all, tell me who you are and what is your real Christian proper name."

He laughed a little, tossed his black hair back from his face, stooped, picked up an acorn and tossed it lightly after a chipmunk that ran along the mossy trunk, and said:

"Why, a man, of course, like yourself. An American, born of poor parents, so that I had to make the best of it ; drifted into Mexico after awhile, and have been drifting ever since; .aimless, idle, till I met you and undertook to pull you through the winter. As for my name, it is Thomas, James Thomas." Here he stooped, picked another acorn from the ground, and cast it at the hounds that stood listening to the whistle of the deer.

"Ah, Prince ! Prince ! You should at least have