He approached the shepherd-boy, and the two Olafs, who were of exactly the same size, stared long at one another.
“I’m glad your dog is not harmed. How long have you had him?” said the king. “Wolf was only given to me yesterday.”
“Sentry is my father’s,” answered the shepherd. “He had him before I was born.”
“How old are you?” asked the king.
“I was seven years yesterday,” answered the shepherd.
“Were you? That’s funny!” exclaimed the king. “Why I had my seventh birthday yesterday, too. But, who is with you? Surely you aren’t allowed to stay out by yourself, are you?”
“I have to stay out,” replied the shepherd. “I should like to go home.”
“You’d like to go home? Funny! Why, I’d give anything to be allowed to sit on that silvery frost! Have you been playing with those nice woolly sheep for long? What pretty bells they’ve got! And wherever did you get that splendid crook’d staff? I’d like to have one just like that,” chattered the little king.
“Sire,” broke in the tall man with a low bow. “We must return home. His Excellency your Tutor-in-Chief said that only one hour could be spared from your Majesty’s studies to-day.”
Olaf the Fair stamped his foot.