He had a sweet, clear, little voice, and he looked a delightful brown gipsy, as he sat perched up on the rock with his long legs dangling, and his curls blowing about his face.
"There!" said Olly, when he had shouted out the last note of "Hot Cross Buns." "I have singed three whole songs; and now, Aunt Emma, tell us about the king and the fairies.

Krick, please." "It must be 'krick' indeed," said Aunt Emma, "if we want to get home to-night." For the sun had almost sunk behind the mountains at their back, and the wind blowing across the lake was beginning to get a little cold, while over their heads the rooks went flying, singing "caw, caw," on their way to bed.

And how the sun was turning the water to gold! It seemed to be making a great golden pathway across the lake, and the mountains were turning a deep blue, and plash, plash, went the little waves on the rocks, so softly they seemed to be saying "Good-night! good-night!" "Well," said Aunt Emma, settling herself on a soft piece of heather, and putting her arms round Milly and Olly, "Once upon a time there was a great king.

He was a good king and a wise man, and he tried to make all the people round about him wiser and better than they were before he came to rule over them; and for a long time he was very powerful and happy, and he and the brave men who helped him and were his friends did a great deal of good, and kept the savage people who lived all about him in order, and taught them a great many things.

But at last some of the savage people got tired of obeying the king, and they said they would not have him to reign over them any more; so they made an army, and they came together against the king to try and kill him and his friends.