His passive face and large melancholy eyes were wonderfully
beautiful, and inspired even his mother with a feeling of awe and
respect. She never had cause to feel anxious about him, for there
was no better, nor more obedient child in the whole land.
The ill-omened boy, George, was the exact opposite of his brother. He,
on the contrary, had to be watched and tended, for his veins seemed to
run quicksilver. One would have been justified in saying that he went
out to meet the misfortune which was so surely awaiting him. Whenever it
was possible he gave his nurses and attendants the slip. He planned
dangerous games, and incited the children of the castle servants and
gardeners to carry out the mischief which he had contrived.
But his favorite pastime was building. Sometimes he would erect houses
of red stone, often he would dig great caves of many chambers and halls
in the sand. At this work he was much more energetic than his humbler
playfellows, and he would be dirty and dripping with perspiration when he
returned to the castle.
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