she feared lest the men who pressed the carriage so closely as
almost to touch its doors, might hear the unthinking words of the
little girl.

Marie Antoinette had not deceived herself. A man in a blouse, who
had even laid his hand upon the carriage, and whose head almost
touched the princess, a man with a blazing, determined face, and
small, piercing black eyes, had heard the exclamation of the
princess, and threw upon her a malignant, threatening glance.

"Madame loves us not, because we are ugly and dirty," he said; "but
we should, perhaps, look pretty and elegant too, if we could put on
finery to ride about in splendid carriages. But we have to work, and
we have to suffer, that we may be able to pay our taxes. For if we
did not do this, our king and his family would not be able to strut
around in this grand style. We are dirty, because we are working for
the king."

"I beg you, sir," replied the queen, softly, "to forgive my
daughter; she is but a child, and does not know what she is saying.
She will learn from her parents, however, to love our good, hard-
working people, and to be thankful for their love, sir."

"I am no 'sir,' " replied the man, gruffly; "I am the poor cobbler
Simon, nothing more."

"Then I beg you, Master Simon, to accept from my daughter, as a
remembrance, this likeness of her father, and to drink to our good
health," said the queen, laying at the same time a louis-d'or in the
hand of her daughter, and hastily whispering to her, "Give it to