Page:The art of story-telling, with nearly half a hundred stories, y Julia Darrow Cowles .. (IA artofstorytellin00cowl).pdf/202

 that the king might not see that the pearls were missing.

Now it happened one night that the queen lay awake. She could not sleep because she thought she heard strange sounds of sighing and sobbing out in the night. It all sounded so piteous and heartrending that the queen wept upon her silken pillow. "Here I lie upon my bed of satin," she sighed, "whilst outside, perhaps little children go barefooted in the snow. I cannot bear to think of it."

There was a sound of twittering and chirping, and now she saw how one little half-frozen bird after another flew up and tapped upon the window-pane with its beak, in search of a chance grain of corn.

"Alas, alas!" sighed the queen, "I eat roast venison out of a golden dish and drink mulled wine, and there outside the poor little birds starve to death in the cold. I cannot bear to think of it;" and the next day she begged leave of the king to collect the crumbs after meals and to place them in a basket outside her window for the birds.

Well, of course the king thought it was asking a good deal, but as the queen never begged for anything for herself, and the