High above the city, above a tall column, stood the statue of the Happy Prince. He was gilded all overwith thin leaves of nice gold, for eyes he had 2 sunny sapphires, and a colossal red ruby flickered on his sword-hilt.
He was quite much adored indeed.'He is as beautiful as a weathercock,' commented 1 of the Town Councillors who hoped to acquire a dignity for having artistic taste; 'only no quite so profitable,' he joined, panicking lest people ought calculate him unpractical, which he truly was not.
'Why can't you be like the Happy Prince?' queried a advisable mommy of her little chap who was calling for the moon. 'The Happy Prince not nightmares of crying for everything.'
'I am pleased there is some one in the globe who is quite happy', whispered a dissatisfied male as he stared by the wonderful statue.
'He looks just like one angel,' said the Charity Children as they came out of the cathedral in their bright scarlet mantles, and their clean pearly pinafores.
'How do you know?' said the Mathematical Master, 'you have never penetrated one.'
'Ah! but we have, in our dreams,' answered the babies; and the Mathematical Master frowned and saw very severe, for he did not agree of babies dreaming.
One night there flew over the city a tiny Swallow. His friends had worked away to Egypt 6 weeks ahead, merely he had stayed backward, for he was in love with the maximum beautiful Reed. He had met her early in the spring for he was flying down the rill later a huge yellow insect, and had been so fascinated by her slim waist that he had stopped to talk to her.
'Shall I love you said the Swallow', who liked to come to the point at once, and the Reed made him a cheap bow. So he flew round and round her, touching the water with his wings, and production silver ripples. This was his courtship, and it lasted all via the summer.
'It is a ridiculous attachment,' twittered the other Swallows, 'she has not money, and distant also many narrations;' and naturally the river was very full of Reeds. Then, when the autumn came, they all flew away.
After they had gone he felt solitary, and began to tire of his lady-love. 'She has no chat,' he said, 'and I am scared that she is a coquette, for she is always flirting with the wind.' And surely, anytime the wind blew, the Reed made the most graceful curtsies. I confess that she is servant,' he proceeded, 'but I love travelling, and my wife, consequently, should love travelling too.'
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