Each morning they went out on the battlements at dawn to see the splendid sun rise slowly out of the purple sea.  One of the very first things the child King Amor remembered in his life—­and he remembered it always—­was a dawning day when the Ancient One wakened him gently, and folding him in his long gray robe carried him up the winding and narrow stone stairway, until at last they stepped forth on the top of the huge castle which seemed to the little creature to be so high that it was quite close to the wonderful sky itself.

“The sun is going to rise and wake the world,” said the Ancient One.  “Young King, watch the wonder of it.”

Amor lifted his little head and looked.  He was only just old enough to be beginning to understand things, but he loved the Ancient One and all he said and did.

Far below the mountain crag lay the sea.  In the night, while it slept, it had looked dark blue or violet, but now it was slowly changing its color.  The sky was changing too—­it was growing paler and paler—­next it grew faintly brighter, so did the sea; then a slight flush crept over land and water and all the small floating clouds were rosy pink.  King Amor smiled because birds’ voices were to be heard in the trees and bushes, and something golden bright was rising out of the edge of the ocean, and sparkling light danced on the waves.  It rose higher and higher and grew so dazzling and wonderful that he threw out his little hand with a shout of joy.  The next moment he started back because there rose near him a loud whirr and beating of powerful wings as a great bird flew out of a crag near by and soared high into the radiant morning heavens.

“It is the eagle who is our neighbor,” said the Ancient One.  “He has awakened and gone to give his greeting to the sun.”

And as the little King sat upright, enraptured, he saw that from the dazzling brightness at the edge of the world there leaped forth a ball of living gold and fire, and even he knew that the sun had risen.

“At every day’s dawn it leaps forth like that,” said the Ancient One.  “Let us watch together and I will tell you stories of it.”

So they sat by the battlement and the stories were told.  They were stories of the small grains lying hid in the dark earth waiting for the golden heat of the sun to draw them forth into life until they covered the tilled fields with waving wheat to make bread for the world; they were stories of the seeds of fair flowers warmed and ripened until they burst into scented blossoms; they were stories of the roots of trees and the rich sap drawn upward by the heat until great branches and thick leafage waved in the summer air; they were stories of men, women, and children walking with light step and glad because of the gold of the sun.

“Every day it warms, every day it draws, every day it ripens and gives life.  And there are many who forget the wonder of it.  Lift your head high as you walk, young King, and often look upward.  Never forget the sun.”