Although the King had already eaten heartily, he smacked his lips when he saw this tempting dish, and picking up the carving-fork he pushed it quickly into the pie. At once the crust fell in, and all the four and twenty blackbirds put up their heads and began to look about them. And coming from the blackness of the pie into the brilliantly lighted room they thought they were in the sunshine, and began to sing merrily, while some of the boldest hopped out upon the table or began flying around the room. At first the good King was greatly surprised; but soon, appreciating the jest, he lay back in his chair and laughed long and merrily. And his courtiers and the fine ladies present heartily joined in the laughter, for they also were greatly amused. Then the King called for the cook, and when Mister Baker appeared, uncertain of his reception, and filled with many misgivings, His Majesty cried, "Sirrah! how came you to think of putting live birds in the pie?" The cook, fearing that the King was angry, answered, "May it please your Majesty, it was not my thought, but the idea of the boy who stands behind your chair." The King turned his head, and seeing Gilligren, who looked very well in his new livery, he said, "You are a clever youth, and deserve a better position than that of a butler's lad. Hereafter you shall be one of my own pages, and if you serve me faithfully I will advance your fortunes with your deserts." And Gilligren did serve the King faithfully, and as he grew older acquired much honor and great wealth. "After all," he used to say, "that sixpence made my fortune. And it all came about through such a small thing as a handful of rye!" [Illustration: The Story of Little Boy Blue] The Story of Little Boy Blue Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn, The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn; Where's the little boy that minds the sheep? He's under the haystack, fast asleep! THERE once lived a poor widow who supported herself and her only son by gleaning in the fields the stalks of grain that had been missed by the reapers. Her little cottage was at the foot of a beautiful valley, upon the edge of the river that wound in and out among the green hills; and although poor, she was contented with her lot, for her home was pleasant and her lovely boy was a constant delight to her. He had big blue eyes, and fair golden curls, and he loved his good mother very dearly, and was never more pleased than when she allowed him to help her with her work. And so the years passed happily away till the boy was eight years old, but then the widow fell sick, and their little store of money melted gradually away. "I don't know what we shall do for bread," she said, kissing her boy with tears in her eyes, "for I am not yet strong enough to work, and we have no money left." "But I can work," answered the boy; "and I'm sure if I go to the Squire up at the Hall he will give me something to do."