“Now, your Highness,” said Father Anselmus, who always took the lead in the questions, “are you a good boy?”

“O holy Father!” exclaimed all the people—­there were a good many fine folks from the court present.  “He is such a good boy! such a wonderful boy! we never knew him to do a wrong thing.”

“I don’t suppose he ever robbed a bird’s nest?” said Father Ambrose a little doubtfully.

[Illustration:  The Prince & Peter are examined by the monks.]

“No, no!” chorused the people.

“Nor tormented a kitten?”

“No, no, no!” cried they all.

At last everybody being so confident that there could be no reasonable fault found with the Prince, he was pronounced competent to enter upon the Monks’ service.  Peter they knew a great deal about before—­indeed a glance at his face was enough to satisfy any one of his goodness; for he did look more like one of the boy angels in the altar-piece than anything else.  So after a few questions, they accepted him also; and the people went home and left the two boys with the Christmas Monks.

The next morning Peter was obliged to lay aside his homespun coat, and the Prince his velvet tunic, and both were dressed in some little white robes with evergreen girdles like the Monks.  Then the Prince was set to sewing Noah’s Ark seed, and Peter picture-book seed.  Up and down they went scattering the seed.  Peter sang a little psalm to himself, but the Prince grumbled because they had not given him gold-watch or gem seed to plant instead of the toy which he had outgrown long ago.  By noon Peter had planted all his picture-books, and fastened up the card to mark them on the pole; but the Prince had dawdled so his work was not half done.

“We are going to have a trial with this boy,” said the Monks to each other; “we shall have to set him a penance at once, or we cannot manage him at all.”

So the Prince had to go without his dinner, and kneel on dried peas in the chapel all the afternoon.  The next day he finished his Noah’s Arks meekly; but the next day he rebelled again and had to go the whole length of the field where they planted jewsharps, on his knees.  And so it was about every other day for the whole year.

One of the brothers had to be set apart in a meditating cell to invent new penances; for they had used up all on their list before the Prince had been with them three months.

The Prince became dreadfully tired of his convent life, and if he could have brought it about would have run away.  Peter, on the contrary, had never been so happy in his life.  He worked like a bee, and the pleasure he took in seeing the lovely things he had planted come up, was unbounded, and the Christmas carols and chimes delighted his soul.  Then, too, he had never fared so well in his life.  He could never remember the time before when he had been a whole week without being hungry.  He sent his wages every month to his parents; and he never ceased to wonder at the discontent of the Prince.