table into a corner; and then they in their cooks' caps, and the
Princess Alicia in the smothering coarse apron that belonged to the
cook that had run away with her own true love that was the very
tall but very tipsy soldier, danced a dance of eighteen cooks
before the angelic baby, who forgot his swelled face and his black
eye, and crowed with joy.

And so then, once more the Princess Alicia saw King Watkins the
First, her father, standing in the doorway looking on, and he said,
'What have you been doing, Alicia?'

'Cooking and contriving, papa.'

'What else have you been doing, Alicia?'

'Keeping the children light-hearted, papa.'

'Where is the magic fish-bone, Alicia?

'In my pocket, papa.'

'I thought you had lost it?'

'O, no, papa!'

'Or forgotten it?'

'No, indeed, papa.'

The king then sighed so heavily, and seemed so low-spirited, and