THE sun had been up some hours when Tommy awoke in his little bed at the toymaker’s the next day. Then, oh my, what a surprise he did have! for the moment he opened his eyes, they looked right into the loveliest, sweetest eyes in all the world; and he knew that those eyes belonged to—his dear mother.

Yes, Tommy’s own dear mother was leaning over his little bed in Peter Poodle’s toy shop. She hugged him ever and ever so tight, and there were happy tears in her eyes. And, on the other side of the bed, was—his father!

All in a pop, Tommy’s memory had come back to him; the memory that went away when he was so sick at the wood-chopper’s house in the hills.

Tommy didn’t know how his father and mother happened to be in Peter Poodle’s toy shop, and he was too happy to try and think. Then he remembered that his {158} name wasn’t Tommy. “Oh, Mr. Poodle,” he said, as he saw the little toy maker come into the room, “I am not a King any more, because my father is the King. But I am a Prince, Mr. Poodle, and my name is Arthur.”

“Yes, indeed, you are a Prince,” said Mr. Poodle, “and sometime you will be King.”

A troubled look now came into Prince Arthur’s eyes. “Will the Toy people love me when I am a real King, Mr. Poodle?” he asked; “and will they have me for their King, too? Because I like to be the King of Toyville, and I want to drive away the King of Grumbletown.”

“Toy people will always love you,” said Mr. Poodle, “because you are always very kind to them; and when you are a real King, you can ask all the children to be kind to their toys, and then, pretty soon, there won’t be any more Grumbletown, because no toys will go there.”

“That is what I will do the very first day I am King,” said the Prince. “And now I will get up and send the Toyville treasure to the kind lady in the hills.”

“No need to do that, dear,” said his mother. “The wood chopper and his good wife are right here, and no longer poor, for the King has rewarded their care of his boy.”

The Prince looked across the room, and there, sure enough, was the kind lady, and the wood chopper who now wore a uniform of the King’s Royal House Guard.

Although the Prince felt tired, from his long journey to Toyville, he quickly jumped out of bed, and the next minute was giving the kind lady a big hug. Then he dressed, and by that time Helen came to play with him.

“I am not a King any more,” he said to Helen, “because, you see, I am only a King’s son. But I am a Prince, and {159} my name is Arthur. You may call me Tommy, though, if you wish. Some time I am going to be a King, and then will you be my Queen, Helen?”

“Yes, I will,” said Helen, “and I am going to call you Arthur, because that is your really truly name. I wish you would come and play now. I have brought you Captain Pinkle and Captain Poddle, but I couldn’t bring Rolie Polie, because he is not here any more.”

“Oh, no,” answered the Prince, “it wouldn’t be right for Rolie Polie to come, because he must stay and be King in Toyville. Thank you, Helen, for bringing Captain Pinkle and Captain Poddle. Why, this is the same box I carried to the Black Lion! Did the bad men send it to Mr. Poodle?”

“The bad men were captured by the King’s soldiers and are now in prison,” answered the Queen. “Thanks to the wood chopper’s good wife, who followed you in your long tramp through the hills, we have our boy again, and those who stole him away are punished.”

The Prince did not play very hard that afternoon, and by and by he said to Helen: “I do not know why going to Toyville has made me so tired, but I suppose being a King is hard work. Do you think it is, Helen?”

“Yes, I do,” said Helen. “I think being a King is very hard, and takes a big man like your papa. But some time you will be a big man, and then being a King won’t make you tired any more.”

This happy time of their playing passed all too hurriedly for Helen, who hardly realized its ending before she found herself saying goodbye to her little playmate.

“You will come and see me soon, won’t you Helen?” said the Prince, his lips trembling. “Come very soon {160} Helen, because I want a little girl to play with and to go with me on journeys; and O, Helen, now I have a mamma of my own, and perhaps she will read us stories.”

“Yes, indeed, I will read stories to you,” said the Queen, turning from talking earnestly with Helen’s mamma, who had come to say goodbye to the Prince, “and Helen is coming to see us very, very soon.”

Then the goodbys were all said, and amidst the cheering of the townspeople who were lining the streets outside the toyshop, the King and Queen, accompanied by the Royal House Guards, bore the Prince away to his new home in the Castle among the hills.

That evening when Helen had been tucked snugly in her little bed, she said: “Mamma, how did Prince Arthur get lost; did somebody steal him away from his home?”

“Yes, dear,” said Helen’s mamma. Then she snuggled down on the bed and hugging Helen close, told her how, a while ago, the young Prince had been stolen away by the ruffians and left in the forest where he was found by the good wood chopper.

“Was the Prince ill when he was found?” asked Helen.

“Yes, dear,” answered her mamma, “the Prince was so ill that, when the fever left him, it took away his memory, and he did not know that he was a King’s son.”

“Did the wood chopper know that the little boy he found was a Prince, mamma?”

“No,” said her mamma; “the wicked men had dressed the Prince in ragged clothes when they left him in the forest to starve, and he did not look at all like a Prince.”

“How did the King ever find the Prince?” asked Helen. “Did he go to the wood chopper’s house, mamma?” {161}

“No, dear, he was hunting everywhere for some trace of his lost boy, and the wood chopper’s wife was hunting too, and she had followed the Prince almost to this city. Then one day the King met her, and he knew from what she told him that his Arthur was alive; so he came riding with his soldiers as fast as ever he could and saw the little Prince just as he entered the Black Lion Inn. Now dear, it is time for my little girl to go to sleep!”

But Helen wasn’t one bit sleepy. “Why was the Prince stolen away, mamma?” she asked.

“I do not know,” answered her mamma. “Some people say that the King’s brother, Duke Robert, who is called Robert the Red, had him stolen so his own son would be heir to the throne, but no one knows this for certain. If Robert the Red did have him taken away, he never can steal him again, because the King has made the wood chopper the Prince’s own special guard, and he and his good wife will now live in the Castle.”

“Robert the Red was a wicked man to steal away the Prince, wasn’t he, mamma!” said Helen. “Will the Prince be a King some day, mamma, and will he come for me and make me a Queen, like he said?”

“Listen,” said Helen’s mamma, “there is Grandpapa calling me. Good night, little Wideawake.” Then she gave Helen a hug, and turning the light low, left the room.

“Mamma didn’t answer my question,” thought Helen. “But never mind, I know he will, because Tommy said he would,—Prince Arthur, I mean.” Then she closed her eyes and soon was fast asleep.