He looked about for extra covering, but finding none, doffed his doublet and wrapped the lad in it, saying, "I am used to nipping air and scant apparel, 'tis little I shall mind the cold "—then walked up and down the room to keep his blood in motion, soliloquizing, as before.
"SMOOTHING BACK THE TANGLED CURLS.""His injured mind persuades him he is prince of Wales; 'twill be odd to have a prince of Wales still with us, now that he that was the prince is prince no more, but king,—for this poor mind is set upon the one fantasy, and will not reason out that now it should cast by the prince and call itself the king. . . . If my father liveth still, after these seven years that I have heard nought from home in my foreign dungeon, he will welcome the poor lad and give him generous shelter for my sake; so will my good elder brother, Arthur; my other brother, Hugh—but I will crack his crown, an' he interfere, the fox-hearted, ill-
