ran to the queen's room. But the queen could give no orders.
They soon found out, however, that the princess was missing, and in a
moment the palace was like a beehive in a garden; and in one minute more
the queen was brought to herself by a great shout and a clapping of
hands. They had found the princess fast asleep under a rose-bush, to
which the elfish little wind-puff had carried her, finishing its
mischief by shaking a shower of red rose-leaves all over the little
white sleeper. Startled by the noise the servants made, she woke, and,
furious with glee, scattered the rose-leaves in all directions, like a
shower of spray in the sunset.

She was watched more carefully after this, no doubt; yet it would be
endless to relate all the odd incidents resulting from this peculiarity
of the young princess. But there never was a baby in a house, not to say
a palace, that kept the household in such constant good humour, at least
below-stairs. If it was not easy for her nurses to hold her, at least
she made neither their arms nor their hearts ache. And she was so nice
to play at ball with! There was positively no danger of letting her
fall. They might throw her down, or knock her down, or push her down,
but they couldn't _let_ her down. It is true, they might let her fly
into the fire or the coal-hole, or through the window; but none of these
accidents had happened as yet. If you heard peals of laughter resounding
from some unknown region, you might be sure enough of the cause. Going
down into the kitchen, or _the room_, you would find Jane and Thomas,
and Robert and Susan, all and sum, playing at ball with the little
princess. She was the ball herself, and did not enjoy it the less for
that. Away she went, flying from one to another, screeching with
laughter. And the servants loved the ball itself better even than the
game. But they had to take some care how they threw her, for if she
received an upward direction, she would never come down again without
being fetched.

V

_What Is to Be Done?_

But above-stairs it was different. One day, for instance, after
breakfast, the king went into his counting-house, and counted out his
money.

The operation gave him no pleasure.

"To think," said he to himself, "that every one of these gold sovereigns
weighs a quarter of an ounce, and my real, live, flesh-and-blood
princess weighs nothing at all!"

And he hated his gold sovereigns, as they lay with a broad smile of
self-satis