So Valentine took the right,
and Oliver went straight on, and poor Jack took the left.
To make my long story short, I shall follow poor Jack, and let the other
two take their chance, for I don't think there was much good in them.
Off poor Jack rides over hills, dales, valleys, and mountains, through
woolly woods and sheepwalks, where the old chap never sounded his hollow
bugle-horn, farther than I can tell you to-night or ever intend to tell
you.
At last he came to an old house, near a great forest, and there was an
old man sitting out by the door, and his look was enough to frighten you
or any one else; and the old man said to him:
"Good morning, my king's son."
"Good morning to you, old gentleman," was the young prince's answer;
frightened out of his wits though he was, he didn't like to give in.
The old gentleman told him to dismount and to go in to have some
refreshment, and to put his horse in the stable, such as it was. Jack
soon felt much better after having something to eat, and began to ask
the old gentleman how he knew he was a king's son.
Pages:
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164