The Birmingham age-herald., 1913-10-12

"a without fear and dared to stand
~ up for what his parents had
taught him was right and honest. 1t
also tells of a King who turns out,
after all, to be good. kind ruler.
IT seems a pity-almost - that 1t Is
lust a make believe story, doesn't 1t?
But then, you know, there was moth
ing snake believe about the honesty
and manliness of the lad or the no.
btify of the King. as you shall see
for yourself presently. II you read on.
Nowadays many a little boy and
girl finds himself in a situation quite
similar to that of the small hero of
this tale-for honesty and loyalty are
two qualities as old as-no, older than
the hills.
Once upon a time in the long, long
aep, there lived q mighty King. His
name was Bountiful but, alas. he was
bountiful only toward himself and his
faworite courtiers. His palaces and
his Jewels were the envy Of every
monarch within leagues and leagues
of him, and his fine raiment outshone
the flowers in radiance OF color.
He showered presents upon his ia,
vorftes and scattered money SO lavish
der of all who heard of 1t. And in
order to satisfy his cravings for this
display and prodigality he taxed and
ground down the poor people Of his
kfngdom until they had scarcely
enough food to keep soul and body
together.
But King Bountifu1 was not hap
tpy man. He listened to and feasted
upon the fattery of his courtiers who
were always telling him what a great
and good king he was and how all
the people Of his domain loved him
honestly and reJoiced to do his bid
ding.
But, every now and then, he would
detect first this courtier, then another,
In a deception or-all too frequently
for his peace of Enthusiastically plot
ting to overthrow him and seize the
throne. Finally, King Bountiful be-
came SO suspicious that he knew not
whom to trust or whom to believe
was really a loyal subject.
On the outskirts of the immense
forest which the King set apart as
his game preserve lived poor wood
cutter, his old, shrunken wife and
their young son Felix. Now the
woodcutter was as poor as anyone in
the whole of the vast kingdom. His
home was crude hut built of rough
hewn logs, and his only way of earn
ing living was to carry bundles of
wood into the nearby town and sell
them for a mere pittance.
You would imagine, wouldn't you.
that he would have had no trouble
in gathering sticks of wood?s And
he would not have, either, had he
been able to cross the field and enter
the vast wood reserved for the King
But the penalty for gathering wood
in that forest or, for even trespassing
there, was immediate death. So the
woodcutter and the other poor people
kept away from the Kings forest and
gathered what few sticks and
branches they could find elsewhere.
It did seem to them. just as 1t does
to you, unfair and tyrannical for the
King to forbid them to enter his
forest-especially since he himself
came there not more than a dozen
times year and the poor peasants
would have been, oh, SO careful not
to cut down any trees OF break off
branches. But King Bountiful, of
course, could not see the matter in
such light
One cold. dreary winter afternoon.
after a heavy rain. little Felix was in
the broad field, along the edge of the
wood. gathering what few sticks he
could 6nd Every now and then he
would look longingly toward the
Kings forest. where wood lay so plen-
tffully all over the ground.
Many times had he thought how