The PRINCESS of COZYTOWN
ID YOU EVER hear of Cozytown? And did you ever hear of the terrible giant grownupness? Not that they belong together—my goodness, no! But in this story the giant—pshaw—here I am starting things heels over head—which would never do at all!
Well, well, if you have never heard of Cozytown it is high time that you did, and if you never heard of the giant it is because you have not had birthdays enough, that's all I can say. Why, Cozytown is the delightfulest place imaginable, though it does stand on the very edge of things, surrounded by a high, gray wall—that the name of this wall is "Facts" need not bother us, nor that to most people it is impassable. Those who know walk straight up to the wall and, taking four steps to the left of an iron ring which they will find without much trouble, they knock sharply on a stone which says believe! Presto! Immediately a little gate appears and in they go to the town itself.
There are rows of dear little houses just big enough for a boy or girl to play in, every house has a tiny garden and pink rose bushes that climb right to the chimney top and nod their heads in at the windows, which all have white ruffled curtains. Row upon row of these tiny rose-covered cottages, a white courthouse in the centre, a lovely lake in front, where china swans swim all day—this is Cozytown! And the clock over the courthouse always points to 3:00 which everyone knows
