He was; the difference was surprising--very surprising indeed to Frances. For, not expecting him to be so light all of a sudden, she tossed the little Prince into the air, when, instead of coming down again, he flew out of her hands; the wind got into his blouse and his bloomers, puffing them out like balloons, and away he went, floating along about ten feet from the ground. CHAPTER VIII LOBSTERNECK "Catch him!" shouted the King; "Catch him!" shouted the Admiral; "Catch him!" cried Margaret and Frances and the five little Princes; and all nine of them set off running as fast as they could, jumping like a flock of grasshoppers, trying to grasp the infant Prince by his ankles; while the infant Prince, himself, went sailing along backwards, laughing with glee and waving his hands to the company below, evidently enjoying himself immensely. Where he might have blown to there is no telling, had it not been for Margaret. As she ran past the throne she espied the King's crown still hanging to one of the gold knobs. Snatching it down, she raced after the others, and coming under the little Prince, she called out, "Here, Princy, boy! Catch this!"--at the same time throwing up the crown to him. The effect was rather unexpected. The youngster missed the catch, but luckily Margaret had made such a good cast that the crown pitched over his head and settled down upon his shoulders, like a horse-collar. The little Prince instantly grasped it tight with both hands, when, being overweighted, he turned heels up and came floating down head-first to where nine pairs of hands were waiting to catch him. "Well done!" cried His Majesty. "Very well done! Now--" He stopped, and, holding up one finger, cocked his ears, when the two little girls, listening too, heard the _clink-clank_ of the Court Crier's bell approaching. "Oh, bother!" exclaimed the King. "They've got out. That's the way they always do. They sit down at the table and wait for dinner, and after a bit they forget what they are waiting for and they all get up and come out by the other door. They'll be coming round the corner in a minute. Let's run!" Away he went, Margaret and Frances and the Admiral, each holding two of the little Princes by the hand, running after him, over the hill behind the throne and down the other side, when the first thing they came to was a sort of wood-shed containing a number of logs, each of which had a ticket tacked on it, marked, "One," "Two," "Three," and so forth. "Oh, so this is where you keep your firewood, is it?" remarked Margaret to the Admiral. [Illustration: _Turned heels up and came floating down head first_] "Firewood!" cried the Admiral, aghast. "Dear me, no! These are all family trees. Firewood! Tut! Tut! I'm glad the king didn't hear you." "So am I," said Margaret. "It was a dreadful mistake, and I wouldn't hurt his feelings for anything. What are all the logs numbered for?" "So that the carpenter can tell which is which. See here!"