. St. Nicholas [serial] . the winner in the her to me. It is my right. The Minstrel spoke : The wreath was mineFor minstrelsy. I must declineTo yield my claim. You can but shineIn warfares arts, and there alone! The Dancer spoke in milder tone: What is a Prince if lacking grace ?Let War and Song take lower place;Grace wins the bride of kingly race!And all pressed forward, claims to bring,Save one not best at anything. Then spake the Princess, very low,Unto the King: I did not know—/ cannot dance, nor fight, nor am not best at fear these others all would beBy far to
. St. Nicholas [serial] . the winner in the her to me. It is my right. The Minstrel spoke : The wreath was mineFor minstrelsy. I must declineTo yield my claim. You can but shineIn warfares arts, and there alone! The Dancer spoke in milder tone: What is a Prince if lacking grace ?Let War and Song take lower place;Grace wins the bride of kingly race!And all pressed forward, claims to bring,Save one not best at anything. Then spake the Princess, very low,Unto the King: I did not know—/ cannot dance, nor fight, nor am not best at fear these others all would beBy far too wise or brave for me!Pray let them go; and give my ringTo him not best at them each glory in his art,The Prince who dared has won myheart! And so the one who gained thebrideWas he who every contest did not under trial quailBut dared to enter, strive, and — fail!He did his best at everything,And proved a really model King. To-day it might not turn out so —All this was — oh, long, long ago!. ^0^ THE ONE WHO GAINED THE BRIDE. JACK BALUSTERS FORTUNES. By Howard Pyle. [Begun in the April number, fSgj.] Chapter XL. FIAT JUSTITIA. As the boat swept into the great lift and fallof the ocean swell, Dred leaned forward andrested his forehead upon the tiller, which hestill held. His body shook and heaved, and Jacksat like one turned to stone. The thought wentthrough his mind, He is dying! Will he dieas he sits there ? Can it really be that he isdying ? Then Dred looked up, and his facewas as white as ashes. Great beads of sweatstood on his forehead. Some water, he saidhoarsely. Give me some water, lad. Miss Eleanor Parker still lay in the bottomof the boat where she had been went forward blindly across the thwarts,and brought out a cup of water. His handshook and trembled; his eyes saw, but did notsee what he was doing. His throat was con-stricted as though it would choke him. Thenhe came back with the cup of water; it sloppedand spilled over
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