land where princesses use hay for hosiery?"

"'Tis curious done," said Pembroke, musingly, "none the less."

"And done by her own hand," said the owner of the shoe, with a certain
proprietary pride.

Again the laughter broke out. "Do your princesses engage in shoemaking?"
asked a third gamester as he pushed into the ring. "Sure it must be a
rare land. Prithee, what doth the king in handicraft? Doth he take to
saddlery, or, perhaps, smithing?"

"Have done thy jests, Wilson," cried Pembroke. "Mayhap there is somewhat
to be learned here of this New World and of our dear cousins, the
French. Go on, tell us, Monsieur du Mesne--as I think you call yourself,
sir?--tell us more of your new country of ice and snow, of princesses
and little shoes."

The original speaker went a bit sullen, what with his wine and the jests
of his companions. "I'll tell ye naught," said he. "Go see for
yourselves, by leave of Louis."

"Come now," said Pembroke, conciliatingly. "We'll all admit our
ignorance. 'Tis little we know of our own province of Virginia, save
that Virginia is a land of poverty and tobacco. Wealth--faith, if ye
have wealth in your end of the continent, 'tis time we English fought ye
for it."

"Methinks you English are having enough to do here close at home,"
sneered Du Mesne. "I have heard somewhat of Steinkirk, and how ye ran