was a Princess."

[Illustration: "HE TURNED HIS BACK TO HER" (_p. 79_).]

"Then she'll never come to the throne," said the boy solemnly. "I read
it lately in my history."

Here the little girl looked much inclined to cry.

"Oh, don't say she won't come to the throne!" she cried piteously. "I
like my Princess Sophonisba so much."

"She'll never come to the throne," said the King, laying down the law
with his fore-finger; "a Princess is no good at all. She's a stupid."

"Well, she shan't be called Jack," said the Queen, plucking up a little
spirit.

[Illustration: "IN A MOMENT SHE WAS UPON A CHAIR" (_p. 81_).]

"Then I shan't play," said the little King, at once jumping down off the
chair.

The little Queen put her finger in her mouth, and looked as if she did
not quite know what to do. She did not care to play without Bertie, but
she wanted to have her own way. She glanced at Bertie out of the corner
of her eye. He turned his back to her directly, and would not look her
in the face. Yes, there was no doubt about it--she could tell it from
the look of his shoulders--Bertie was in the sulks.

All their play was spoilt. The throne was deserted, the sceptre laid
down. They did not care to be King or Queen by themselves.

"I shall go down to mamma, then," said the Queen, and she put me down on
the chair, and went off.

For some time Bertie stood in the corner, looking very cross. Then he
looked round, and began wondering when May would come back. Next he
commenced to cry.

"Naughty girl! naughty girl! I don't want her to come back!" and he took
a piece of string out of his pocket, and kept slashing it against his
sleeve as he spoke.

Suddenly, in the midst of his temper, he caught sight of me.

"Nasty doll!" he cried; "we should never have quarrelled if it hadn't
been for you! You shall be a boy," he added, sternly; "for I'll cut all
your hair off!"

A shudder went through me. Unfortunately the nursery scissors were lying
on the table--he took them up, and in a minute it was done. Clip, clip,
went the scissors, as if they were pleased, and nearly the whole of my
flaxen curls lay scattered on the floor. How I looked I don't know, but
I think Bertie was a little frightened when he saw what he had done. I
don't think he was anxious for his sister to see me, so he jumped up on
the fender and put me on top of the mantel-piece.

Here I lay, with my feet dangling down off the side, about as
uncomfortable as a