He has a fever, and is
asking for oranges. His mother has nothing to give him but river
water, so he is crying. Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow, will you
not bring her the ruby out of my sword-hilt? My feet are fastened
to this pedestal and I cannot move."
"I am waited for in Egypt," said the Swallow. "My friends are
flying up and down the Nile, and talking to the large lotus-
flowers. Soon they will go to sleep in the tomb of the great King.
The King is there himself in his painted coffin. He is wrapped in
yellow linen, and embalmed with spices. Round his neck is a chain
of pale green jade, and his hands are like withered leaves."
"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "will you not
stay with me for one night, and be my messenger? The boy is so
thirsty, and the mother so sad."
"I don't think I like boys," answered the Swallow. "Last summer,
when I was staying on the river, there were two rude boys, the
miller's sons, who were always throwing stones at me. They never
hit me, of course; we swallows fly far too well for that, and
besides, I come of a family famous for its agility; but still, it
was a mark of disrespect.
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