Excerpt from Dick Whittington, and Other Stories: Selected and Arranged

Many, many years ago when Edward the Third was King of England there was a little boy called Dick Whittington. His father and mother died when he was so young that he remembered nothing at all about them. He was left a ragged little fellow running about a country village.

As poor Dick was not old enough to work, he was very badly off. He had but little for his dinner, and some times nothing at all for his breakfast. The people who lived in the villagewere very poor. They could not spare him much more than the parings of potatoes, and now and then a hard crust of bread.

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