Los Angeles herald., 1910-06-19
WILFRED, THE SAXON LAD
Dear Aunt Laurie:


Dear Aunt Laurie:
Twas the last day of the peace fes-
tiVal. the day on which Henry of Eng
land and Francis of France departed,
each for his own Kingdom. The fort
night of feasting and revelry was
nearly at a close.
The mobiles of France and England
in the valley of gold' between the
French town of Arde and the English
one of Cuisines were preparing for
their homeward journey. In the hills
surrounding this fairyland of gold,
scarlet and of silver and tinsel con-
gregated the poor people. Not per-
mitted to join or scarcely to see the
sports and gorgeous displays of the
great people. yet certainly they had
been allowed to pay for much of the
useless finery
Over the rounding hills came a
bronzed and sturdy English lad All
through these holidays had he been
kept busy by hard master. Now
that he was free for one day, he had
tramped twelve miles from the manor
to Calais in order to view the depar-
ture of the kings.
Since long before the sun had kissed
the horizon Wilfred had walked with
swinging stride. Only twice had he
halted, once to MUNICH his rye bread
and once to make sure the tWopence
were safe within his ragged doublet.
But what cared he if his limbs grew
tired, his heels run down. his spending
money small and his fare meager?
He could see this day how great men
did and dressed. For some day he
would ride with the greatest. Already
his savings amounted to nearly one
pound two shillings and sixpence hid
den away in the trunk of a friendly
tree.
Wilfred was, however. greatly disap-
pointed. Every time he attempted to
press near enough to successfully view
the valley of splendor or to watch the
magnificent armor of the horsemen,
men with arms roughly thrust him
back. Until after many efforts, dis
couraged. he took himself to the hills.
Seating himself on a boulder he glared
at the flowers about him. His inde-
pendent Saxon heart burned for the
shame within him. How much had the
poor suffered! How much endured and
gone without that the royalty might
feast! He arose to his feet, hot tears
in his blue eyes. and the brown hands
knotted themselves into very ham
mers; his breast heaved beneath the
patched jerkin. A brilliant pageant
had advanced upon him almost una
wares. Yet the glory of it was lost
upon the lad. Not until horse drew
up in front of him did he realize what
he looked upon. Even then he did not
recognize in the dark, slender face of
the horseman the person of his maj
esty, the French king. The man que
ried:
art jealous, lad. of what we have?"
Then it was that the rage of Wilfred
knew no bounds. In his voice was uu-
ltterable scorn.
may. sir; for rightfully it belongs
to u.s." A red flush overspread the
of Francis.
"How so?"
The boys lips trembled, but his eyes
net the ones above him squareIy.
I'm so much that we have paid for
+
Lad. it's not so bad as that. Here,
axe this" extending two bright pieces
If gold, land know that his majesty
means not to rob ye.'
1t was a great temptation to the
,oor lad. for thus might the begin
hing of his ambitions be realized. He
laIf reached forth his hand to take it,
tut with the other he clutched it back,
urned on his heel and walked proud
y away.
Francis stared after the youth. Then
o the unasked question of his out
iders:
may, let him go. There is no doing
-nything with such a spirit as that.
And he will be that which few of ye
will ever be-"
And so he was scarcely a decade
fter and without the aid of the French
ing. PANSY WOOLLEY.
1910 Mariposa avenue, Los Angeles.
}. S. I. s., B9.
Please cut your stories. This is good,
ut too long.