he slowly drew his pipe from his pocket and lighted it. "I like you
amazin'. _A_-mazin' I like you, my dear! but it is what you might
call surprisin', to leave a little maid in a blue pinafore, and to
come back and find a princess in gold and velvet. Yes, Pigeon Pie,
you might call it surprisin', and yet not be stretchin' a p'int."

"Am I _really_ like a princess?" said the child, clapping her hands,
and laughing with pleasure. "Have you ever seen a princess, Daddy
Captain, and did she look like me?"

"I seed--I _saw_--one, once," replied the Captain, gravely, puffing
at his pipe. "In Africky it was, when I was fust mate to an Indiaman.
And she wa'n't like you, Peach Blossom, no more than Hyperion to a
Satyr, and that kind o' thing. She had on a short petticut, comin'
half-way down to her knees, and a necklace, and a ring through her
nose. And--"

"Where were her other clothes?" asked the child.

"Wal--maybe she kem off in a hurry and forgot 'em!" said the Captain,
charitably. "Anyhow, not speakin' her language, I didn't ask her.
And she was as black as the ace of spades, and shinin' all over with
butter."

"Oh, _that_ kind of princess!" said Star, loftily. "I didn't mean
that kind, Daddy. I meant the kind who live in fretted palaces, with
music in th' enamelled stones, you know, and wore clothes like these
every day."

"Wal, Honey, I never saw one of that kind, till now!" said the