And on the morrow the
Woodcutter took the curious cloak of gold and placed it in a great
chest, and a chain of amber that was round the child's neck his wife
took and set in the chest also.
So the Star-Child was brought up with the children of the Woodcutter,
and sat at the same board with them, and was their playmate. And every
year he became more beautiful to look at, so that all those who dwelt
in the village were filled with wonder. While they were swarthy and
black-haired, he was white and delicate as ivory, and his curls were
like the rings of the daffodil. His lips, also, were like the petals
of a red flower, and his eyes were like violets, and his body like a
narcissus of a field where the mower comes not.
Yet, the Star-Child's beauty worked him harm, for he grew proud and
cruel and selfish. He despised the other children of the village
because they were of mean parentage, and he made himself master of
them and called them his servants. He had no pity for the poor, or for
those who were blind, or lame; but would cast stones at them.
Now there passed one day through the village a poor beggar-woman. Her
garments were torn and ragged, and her feet were bleeding from the
rough road on which she had travelled, and she was in very evil
plight.
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