Prince Prigio: From "His Own Fairy Book" — John Shaqi
Prince Prigio: From "His Own Fairy Book"Lang, Andrew
Science
Prince Prigio: From "His Own Fairy Book"
Lang, Andrew
Children's stories; Fairy tales
The ungrateful courtiers left Prigio with hoots and yells, for they
disliked him so much that they forgot he would be king one day. He
therefore reminded them of this little fact in future history, which
made them feel uncomfortable enough, and then lay down in his hammock
and went to sleep.
When he wakened, the air was cold and the day was beginning to grow
dark. Prince Prigio thought he would go down and dine at a tavern in the
town, for no servants had been left with him. But what was his annoyance
when he found that his boots, his sword, his cap, his cloak--all his
clothes, in fact, except those he wore,--had been taken away by the
courtiers, merely to spite him! His wardrobe had been ransacked, and
everything that had not been carried off had been cut up, burned, and
destroyed. Never was such a spectacle of wicked mischief. It was as if
hay had been made of everything he possessed. What was worse, he had not
a penny in his pocket to buy new things; and his father had stopped his
allowance of fifty thousand pounds a month.
Can you imagine anything more cruel and _unjust_ than this conduct? for
it was not the prince’s fault that he was so clever. The cruel fairy had
made him so. But, even if the prince had been born clever (as may have
happened to you), was he to be blamed for that? The other people were
just as much in fault for being born so stupid; but the world, my dear
children, can never be induced to remember this. If you are clever, you
will find it best not to let people know it--if you want them to like
you.
Well, here was the prince in a pretty plight. Not a pound in his pocket,
not a pair of boots to wear, not even a cap to cover his head from the
rain; nothing but cold meat to eat, and never a servant to answer the
bell.
[Illustration: Chapter Five]
CHAPTER V.--_What Prince Prigio found in the garret._
THE prince walked from room to room of the palace; but, unless he
wrapped himself up in a curtain, there was nothing for him to wear when
he went out in the rain. At last he climbed up a turret-stair in the
very oldest part of the castle, where he had never been before; and
at the very top was a little round room, a kind of garret. The prince
pushed in the door with some difficulty--not that it was locked, but the
handle was rusty, and the wood had swollen with the damp. The room was
very dark; only the last grey light of the rainy evening came through
a slit of a window, one of those narrow windows that they used to fire
arrows out of in old times.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account