a bright tin plate upon her curly head. 'She is just alighting from
her chariot, THUS; the courtiers turn pale, THUS; (why don't you do
it?) what shall be done? The Royal Feet must not be wet. "Go round
the puddle? Prit, me Lud, 'Od's body! Forsooth! Certainly not!
Remove the puddle!" she says haughtily to her subjects. They are
just about to do so, when out from behind a neighbouring chaparral
bush stalks a beautiful young prince with coal-black hair and rose-
red cheeks. He wears a rich velvet cloak, glittering with
embroidery. He sees not her crown, her hair outshines it; he sees
not her sceptre, her tiny hand conceals it; he sees naught save the
loathly mud. He strips off his cloak and floats it on the puddle.
With a haughty but gracious bend of her head the Queen accepts the
courtesy; crosses the puddle, THUS, waves her sceptre, THUS, and
saying, "You shall hear from me by return mail, me Lud," she vanishes
within the castle. The next morning she makes Sir Walter British
Minister to Florida. He departs at once with a cargo of tobacco,
which he exchanges for sweet potatoes, and everybody is happy ever
after.'

The girls were convulsed with mirth at this historical romance, and,
as Mrs. Winship wiped the tears of merriment from her eyes, Polly
seized the golden opportunity and dropped on her knees beside her.

'Please, Aunt Truth, we can't get the white mosquito-netting because
Dr. Winship has the key of the storehouse in his pocket, and so--may-
-I--blow the horn?'

Mrs. Winship gave her consent in despair, and Polly went to the oak-
tree where the horn hung and blew all the strength of her lungs into
blast after blast for five minutes.