Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 7 Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12 Page 13 Page 14 Page 15 Page 16 Page 17 Page 18 Page 19 Page 20 Page 21 Page 22 Page 23 Page 24 Page 25 Page 26 Page 27 Page 28 Page 29 Page 30 Page 31 Page 32 Page 33 Page 34 Page 35 Page 36 Page 37 Page 38 Page 39 Page 40 Page 41 Page 42 Page 43 Page 44 Page 45 Page 46 Page 47 Page 48 Page 49 Page 50 Page 51 Page 52 Page 53 Page 54 Page 55 Page 56 Page 57 Page 58 Page 59 Page 60 Page 61 Page 62 Page 63 Page 64 Page 65 Page 66 Page 67 Page 68 Page 69 Page 70 Page 71 Page 72 Page 73 Page 74 Page 75 Page 76 Page 77 Page 78 Page 79 Page 80 Page 81 Page 82 Page 83 Page 8466 Plough Quarterly • Spring 2016 The children stopped their play and looked at one another. “Did you hear that?” they said. “The king is coming. He may look over the wall and see our playground; who knows? We must put it in order.” The playground was sadly dirty, and in the corners were scraps of paper and broken toys, for these were careless children. But now, one brought a hoe, and another a rake, and a third ran to fetch the wheelbarrow from behind the garden gate. They labored hard till at length all was clean and tidy. “Now it is clean!” they said. “But we must make it pretty, too, for kings are used to fine things; maybe he would not notice mere cleanness, for he may have it all the time.” Then one brought sweet rushes and strewed them on the ground, others made garlands of oak leaves and pine tassels and hung them on the walls, and the littlest one pulled marigold buds and threw them all about the playground, “to look like gold,” he said. When all was done, the playground was so beautiful that the children stood and looked at it and clapped their hands with pleasure.