High above the city, on a tall column, stood the statue of the
Happy Prince. He was gilded all over with thin leaves of fine
gold, for eyes he had two bright sapphires, and a large red ruby
glowed on his sword-hilt.

He was very much admired indeed. "He is as beautiful as a
weathercock," remarked one of the Town Councillors who wished to
gain a reputation for having artistic tastes; "only not quite so
useful," he added, fearing lest people should think him
unpractical, which he really was not.

"Why can't you be like the Happy Prince?" asked a sensible mother
of her little boy who was crying for the moon. "The Happy Prince
never dreams of crying for anything."

"I am glad there is some one in the world who is quite happy,"
muttered a disappointed man as he gazed at the wonderful statue.

"He looks just like an angel," said the Charity Children as they
came out of the cathedral in their bright scarlet cloaks and their
clean white pinafores.

"How do you know?" said the Mathematical Master, "you have never
seen one."

"Ah! but we have, in our dreams," answered the children; and the
Mathematical Master frowned and looked very severe, for he did not
approve of children dreaming.

One night there flew over the city a little Swallow. His friends
had gone away to Egypt six weeks before, but he had stayed behind,
for he was in love with the most beautiful Reed. He had met her
early in the spring as he was flying down the river after a big
yellow moth, and had been so attracted by her slender waist that he
had stopped to talk to her.

"Shall I love you?" said the Swallow, who liked to come to the
point at once, and the Reed made him a low bow. So he flew round
and round her, touching the water with his wings, and making silver
ripples. This was his courtship, and it lasted all through the
summer.

"It is a ridiculous attachment," twittered the other Swallows; "she
has no money, and far too many relations"; and indeed the river was
quite full of Reeds. Then, when the autumn came they all flew
away.

After they had gone he felt lonely, and began to tire of his lady-
love. "She has no conversation," he said, "and I am afraid that
she is a coquette, for she is always flirting with the wind." And
certainly, whenever the wind blew, the Reed made the most graceful
curtseys. "I admit that she is domestic," he continued, "but I
love travelling, and my wife, consequently, should love travelling
also."

"Will you come away with me?" he said finally to her; but the Reed
shook her head, she was so attached to her home.

"You have been trifling with me," he cried. "I am off to the
Pyramids. Good-bye!" and he flew away.

All day long he flew, and at night-time he arrived at the city.
"Where shall I put up?" he said; "I hope the town has made
preparations."

Then he saw the statue on the tall column.

"I will put up there," he cried; "it