WOODCUTTER. Good morning. (But he goes on with his work.)

PRINCESS (after a pause). Good morning, Woodcutter.

WOODCUTTER. Good morning.

PRINCESS. Don't you ever say anything except good morning?

WOODCUTTER. Sometimes I say good-bye.

PRINCESS. You _are_ a cross woodcutter to-day.

WOODCUTTER. I have work to do.

PRINCESS. You are still cutting wood? Don't you ever do anything else?

WOODCUTTER. Well, you are still a Princess; don't _you_ ever do
anything else?

PRINCESS (reproachfully). Now, that's not fair, Woodcutter. You can't
say I was a Princess yesterday, when I came and helped you stack your
wood. Or the day before, when I tied up your hand where you had cut
it. Or the day before that, when we had our meal together on the
grass. Was I a Princess then?

WOODCUTTER. Somehow I think you were. Somehow I think you were saying
to yourself, "Isn't it sweet of a Princess to treat a mere woodcutter
like this?"

PRINCESS. I think you're perfectly horrid. I've a good mind never to