“And what do you want with the dragon-flies?” asked Mylio.
“When I have found a great many, I shall sell them in the town, and buy myself a garment as warm as sunshine.”
“And how many have you found already?” asked the young nobleman.
“One only,” said the child, holding up a little rushen cage enclosing the blue fly.
“Well, well, I will take it,” interposed Tonyk, throwing to the boy his violet mantle. “Wrap yourself up in that nice warm cloak, my poor little fellow; and when you kneel down to your evening prayers, say every night a ‘Hail Mary’ for us, and another for our mother.”
The two brothers went forward on their journey; and Tonyk, having parted with his mantle, suffered sorely for a time from the cutting north wind; but the forest came to an end, the air grew milder, the fog dispersed, and a vein of sunshine kindled in the clouds.
They presently entered a green meadow, where a fountain sprung; and there beside it sat an aged man, his clothes in tatters, and on his back the wallet which marked him as a beggar.
As soon as he perceived the young riders, he called to them in beseeching tones.
Tonyk approached him.
“What is it, father?” said he, lifting his hand to his hat in respectful consideration of the beggar’s age.