The Prince and the Pauper

by Mark Twain

and who always talked bridgy talk, and thought bridgy thoughts, and lied in a long, level, direct, substantial bridgy way.

It does us all good to unbend sometimes.

And when, just after the noonday dinner, the goodwife gave him a basket of kittens to drown, he did resign. At least he was just going to resign—for he felt that he must draw the line somewhere, and it seemed to him that to draw it at kitten-drowning was about the right thing—when

kings should go to school to their own laws at times and so learn mercy.”