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XVIII.
THE TOUCHSTONE.
THE King was a man that stood well before the world, his smile was sweet as clover, but his soul withinsides was as little as a pea. He had two sons; and the younger son was a boy after his heart, but the elder was one whom he feared. It befel one morning that the drum sounded in the dun before it was yet day; and the King rode with his two sons, and a brave array behind them. They rode two hours, and came to the foot of a brown mountain that was very steep.
"Where do we ride?" said the elder son.
Across this brown mountain," said the King, and smiled to himself.
"My father knows what he is doing," said the younger son.
And they rode two hours more, and came to the sides of a black river that was wondrous deep.
