aughter. The king stood staring up in speechless
amazement, and trembled so that his beard shook like grass in the wind.
At last, turning to the queen, who was just as horror-struck as
himself, he said, gasping, staring, and stammering,--

"She can't be ours, queen!"

Now the queen was much cleverer than the king, and had begun already to
suspect that "this effect defective came by cause."

"I am sure she is ours," answered she. "But we ought to have taken
better care of her at the christening. People who were never invited
ought not to have been present."

"Oh, ho!" said the king, tapping his forehead with his forefinger, "I
have it all. I've found her out. Don't you see it, queen? Princess
Makemnoit has bewitched her." "That's just what I say," answered the
queen.

"I beg your pardon, my love; I did not hear you.--John! bring the steps
I get on my throne with."

For he was a little king with a great throne, like many other kings.

The throne-steps were brought, and set upon the dining-table, and John
got upon the top of them. But he could not reach the little princess,
who lay like a baby-laughter-cloud in the air, exploding continuously.
"Take the tongs, John," said his Majesty; and getting up on the table,
he handed them to him.

John could reach the baby now, and the little princess was handed down
by the tongs.

4. Where Is She?

One fine summer day, a month after these her first adventures, during
which time she had been very carefully watched, the princess was lying
on the bed in the queen's own chamber, fast asleep. One of the windows
was open, for it was noon, and the day was so sultry that the little
girl was wrapped in nothing less ethereal than slumber itself. The
queen came into the room, and not observing that the baby was on the
bed, opened another window. A frolicsome fairy wind, which had been
watching for a chance of mischief, rushed in at the one window, and
taking its way over the bed where the child was lying, caught her up,
and rolling and floating her along like a piece of flue, or a dandelion
seed, carried her with it through the opposite window, and away. The
queen went down-stairs, quite ignorant of the loss she had herself
occasioned.

When the nurse returned, she supposed that her Majesty had carried her
off, and, dreading a scolding, delayed making inquiry about her. But
hearing nothing, she grew uneasy, and went at length to the queen's
boudoir, where she fo