Before the king could rise, his frightened horse, although lame, had galloped away. The king looked, and saw that his soldiers were beaten, and that the battle was everywhere going against him. [Illustration] He waved his sword in the air. He shouted, "A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse." But there was no horse for him. His soldiers were intent on saving themselves. They could not give him any help. The battle was lost. King Richard was lost. Henry became king of England. "For the want of a nail the shoe was lost; For the want of a shoe the horse was lost; For the want of a horse the battle was lost; For the failure of battle the kingdom was lost;-- And all for the want of a horseshoe nail." Richard the Third was one of England's worst kings. Henry, the Duke of Richmond, made war upon him and defeated him in a great battle. THE LANDLORD'S MISTAKE When John Adams was president and Thomas Jefferson was vice president of the United States, there was not a railroad in all the world. People did not travel very much. There were no broad, smooth highways as there are now. The roads were crooked and muddy and rough. If a man was obliged to go from one city to another, he often rode on horseback. Instead of a trunk for his clothing, he carried a pair of saddlebags. Instead of sitting at his ease in a parlor car, he went jolting along through mud and mire, exposed to wind and weather. One day some men were sitting by the door of a hotel in Baltimore. As they looked down the street they saw a horseman coming. He was riding very slowly, and both he and his horse were bespattered with mud. "There comes old Farmer Mossback," said one of the men, laughing. "He's just in from the backwoods." "He seems to have had a hard time of it," said another; "I wonder where he'll put up for the night." "Oh, any kind of a place will suit him," answered the landlord. "He's one of those country fellows who can sleep in the haymow and eat with the horses." The traveler was soon at the door. He was dressed plainly, and, with his reddish-brown hair and mud-bespattered face, looked like a hard- working countryman just in from the backwoods. "Have you a room here for me?" he asked the landlord. Now the landlord prided himself upon keeping a first-class hotel, and he feared that his guests would not like the rough-looking traveler. So he answered: "No, sir. Every room is full. The only place I could put you would be in the barn." "Well, then," answered the stranger, "I will see what they can do for me at the Planters' Tavern, round the corner;" and he rode away. About an hour later, a well-dressed gentleman came into the hotel and said, "I wish to see Mr. Jefferson." "Mr. Jefferson!" said the landlord. "Yes, sir. Thomas Jefferson, the vice president of the United States." "He isn't here."