THE PRINCE WITH A COLD IN HIS HEART
H, ONCE, my loves, my dears and ducks, there was a Prince who had caught cold in his heart. I—magine! Now, if it had been in his head, I should say he had been sitting in a draught or had gotten his feet wet, but a cold in his heart, well, well! I hardly know what to say about it!
But 'tis just possible that one may take cold in one's heart by chilly draughts, and there were sighs enough to frost anyone in the great, huge, marble palace where the little Prince lived. His father, the King, sighed because he had nothing to do. (What can a poor King do with thirty-eleven servitors forever bouncing and bobbing around one?) And the Queen sighed because she had less than nothing to do; the Courtiers sighed because they were not Kings and Queens; so you can easily see for yourself that wherever the little Prince turned he was pretty sure of catching a chilly sigh. Then there was Court etiquette, which was much worse than wet feet for giving one a cold. The gardener could romp and hug his own little boys and girls as he chose, but when the Prince went walking in the garden he drew up stiff as a stoneman and 'twas, "Yes, your Royal Highness," and "It shall be done, Serene Excellency," and a lot more dampening expressions. The children were hustled into the cottage at his approach, for 'twould never do for them to stare at a prince!
Ten paces behind, wherever he went, stalked a green and gold gentleman-in-waiting, and whenever the little Prince glanced around at that haughty person he bowed; and every
