No family so poor but it had its little lion of carefully pieced rags, which it fondly prized; not merely because it was a quaint toy and indestructible, but because it was to them a token of their noble, friendly beast and of the motto which he had taught them. (But they had taught him many things, also.) And in latter days a crimson lion became the seal of the Guild of Toy-Makers in that shire. And a new tradition began to grow about the Lion Passant, concerned entirely with his service to the people. So, in seeking Them, the Lion found himself. And he lived happy ever after. XI. HOPE "Dear me!" said Red Rex, when Harold had finished this story. "I never saw one of those lion-dolls which your tale mentions. I would that I had one to present to my little girl." "Have you a little girl?" exclaimed Harold in surprise. "Why, I had no idea that you were the father of little children." "Well, why not?" asked the Red King crossly. "I have a dear little girl of seven, and her name is Hope." "Oh, if you have a dear little girl of your own, how can you make war on a city where other dear little girls live?" cried Harold. "I cannot understand!" "No, you cannot understand, because you are only a child yourself," said the Red King. "When you are grown up you will feel differently." "Your Majesty, I do not think so," declared Harold, shaking his head decidedly. "When I have learned all the books in our library, and seen all the countries there are to see, and done all the interesting things there are to do, there may be time to think about war. But these other matters will keep me busy all my life, I should think." "Rubbish!--Can one purchase a lion-doll in your city?" asked Red Rex, changing the subject uneasily. "Yes," said Harold. "Every child in the city owns a lion-doll. Your Majesty ought to visit the great factory at Derrydown, near where Claribel lived,--where the dolls are still made. It is close by the Ancient Wood, where there was such good hunting, and where David had his adventure with the Old Gnome, you know." "No, I do not know the Old Gnome," retorted the Red King peevishly. "How do you expect me to know all the legends of your precious country? We know nothing about this Kingdom in my own warlike land." "Then why should you want to fight us?" asked Harold. "If you had taken the trouble to know us better, you could then judge whether we deserve to be fought. But I think you would like our people if you knew them." Again Red Rex changed the subject. "What of the hunting in this Ancient Wood?" he asked. "When I have taken your city, and after it the rest of your Kingdom, I will go there to hunt." "There was good hunting," said Harold, "once upon a time. In those days one had to beware the wicked Gnomes of the Great Fear. That was why the Old One fled." "What about this 'Old One,' and this 'Great Fear'?" asked the Red King. "I suppose that is another story which you want to read to me."