Very short the four years had seemed, for the baby princess brought
into the quiet old house such a wealth of love, with its golden
sunshine, that time had passed rapidly since her arrival, as time
always does when we are happy and contented.

Our little princess did not owe her title to royal birth, but to her
unquestioned sway over those around her; a rule in which was so happily
blended entreaty and command that her willing subjects were never quite
sure to which they were yielding. But of one thing they were sure,
which was that the winning grace of the little sovereign equaled their
pleasures in obeying her small commands, and the added fact--a very
important one--that this queen of hearts never abused her power.

No little brothers nor sisters were numbered among the princess'
retainers, but she had had from her babyhood an inseparable companion
and playfellow in Moses. Now Moses was a big brown dog who, like his
namesake of old, had been rescued from a watery grave, and it chanced
that baby-girl and baby-dog became inmates of the quiet old house about
the same time. But the dog grew much faster than the little girl, as
dogs are wont to do, and was quite a responsible person by the time
Cissy could toddle around. When she was old enough to play under the
old elm tree Moses assumed the place of protector of her little
highness, and was all the bodyguard the princess needed, for he was
wise and unwearied in his endeavors to guard her from all mishaps.
But, although Moses felt the responsibility of his position, he did not
consider it beneath his dignity to amuse his mistress, and so they
played together, baby and dog, shared their lunch together, and
frequently took their nap together of a warm afternoon, the golden
curls of the little princess tumbled over Moses' broad, shaggy shoulder.