"was Prince Ferdinand of Negol, which is one of the small Eastern
provinces of Hungary. He was an old man, seventy years of age, and he
had both the gout and the asthma. He sat with one foot on a cushion on a
footstool and when it hurt him he made the awfullest faces. Not a bit
like a story book prince, Hinpoha. He was at the Countess Mariska's one
afternoon when I played and when I was through he requested that I be
presented to him."

"Oh-h-h-h-h!" exclaimed Hinpoha under her breath in a thrilled tone.

"The Countess presented me," went on Veronica, "and the prince conversed
with me for a few minutes in a wheezy voice. He didn't say anything
wonderful, just remarked that I was a good child and had played well and
should make the most of my opportunities, and so on. Then his foot gave
him a twinge and he made a dreadful face, and the Countess took me by
the arm and marched me away."

Veronica laughed at the recollection, and the Winnebagos laughed, too,
at the picture of the gouty old prince wheezing out paternal advice to
the lively Veronica.

"Go on, tell us about the other one," said Hinpoha, plainly disappointed
that royalty had turned out to be so ordinary.

"The other one was a German prince," said Veronica, and then laughingly
added, "I don't suppose you care to hear about _him_?"

"Oh, come on, tell us about him," coaxed the Winnebagos.

"He was Prince Karl Augustus of Hohenburg," replied Veronica. "He was