Ah, but this was not a joke--this was going beyond fun. The laughter

ceased on the instant, and fury took its place. A dozen shouted--

Hale him forth! To the horse-pond, to the horse-pond! Where be the

dogs? Ho, there, Lion! ho, Fangs!"

Then followed such a thing as England had never seen before--the sacred

person of the heir to the throne rudely buffeted by plebeian hands, and

set upon and torn by dogs.

As night drew to a close that day, the prince found himself far down in

the close-built portion of the city. His body was bruised, his hands

were bleeding, and his rags were all besmirched with mud. He wandered on

and on, and grew more and more bewildered, and so tired and faint he

could hardly drag one foot after the other. He had ceased to ask

questions of anyone, since they brought him only insult instead of

information. He kept muttering to himself, "Offal Court--that is the

name; if I can but find it before my strength is wholly spent and I drop,

then am I saved--for his people will take me to the palace and prove that

I am none of theirs, but the true prince, and I shall have mine own

again." And now and then his mind reverted to his treatment by those

rude Christ's Hospital boys, and he said, "When I am king, they shall not

have bread and shelter only, but also teachings out of books; for a full

The Prince and The Pauper