incess, beloved by all who knew her. One
day the king sent word that he was coming down to sup with her. But it
so happened that on the day the king was to come to supper, the princess
and all her household were to be away on an excursion which was called
in the somewhat homely language of that day a "clam-bake." However, the
princess concluded to go to the clam-bake, and come home in season to
sit with the king at supper. So they cooked mightily beforehand. For it
was the fixed law of royal suppers in that day to have cream-toast, the
cream flowing in rivers, cheese and jelly, pound-cake and plum-cake, and
cranberry-tart, and three kinds of pie, mince, apple, and squash, or
die! Whereat the people of other countries laughed; but they ate the
suppers, for all that,--the starvelings,--and came again. So the pies
were all made with elaborate scalloped edges, and the hoar-frost of the
cake; and all was set carefully away, awaiting the eventful hour, and
the princess and her household went forth and locked the door behind
them, the princess taking the front-door key, and her chief steward the
postern. And when the time was fully come, the princess left the
clam-bake, and waited by the roadside till the king came by, and then
they both went together to the princess' house. And as they went up the
steps to the house, the charming young princess, who never drank tea
herself, said seductively to the king, "Do you mind, if you don't have
tea? It is a great trouble every way, and the self-denial will do you
good." And the king, lured into a wrong story by the music of her voice,
suppressed a rising sigh, and said no, it was no matter. And then the
princess unlocked the door, and essayed to go in; but though the door
was unlocked, it refused to open. And suddenly the unhappy princess
bethought herself that she had locked the door upon the inside, and
bolted it, and herself passed out through the postern-gate, of which her
lord high-steward still held the key. So there they were. Then,
troubled, they marched hither and thither around the house with stately
and majestic step, trying every door and window, and finding every
avenue of approach barricaded except the sink-nose, which Libby
prisoners might try, intent on getting out, but not a constitutional
monarch, however anxious to get in. As two mice, lurking near the full
cheese-safe, prowl around the crevices, braving cold and darkness in the
middle of the night; safe on the shelf t