But papa did not consider that it was at all fair he should be directly made to task himself. He reminded them that he had never seen the game played, and promised that if their mama would begin, he would speak after her. "I am quite ready to do so," said Mrs. Macdonald; "and my first picture will show you a little child of not more than three years of age. She is laid on a bed of sickness, and the deepest anxiety may be traced in her attendants' countenances. Whispers of fear at the consequences of her death are escaping them. The child herself, had she been capable, would have been thankful for her release: she was a queen, and even at her early age, by her marriage, the nation had decreed she should secure a sister-country's interest for her own people. Her ladies in vain exert all the means that can be thought of to restore her; she was called from earth in her pure, bright innocence." "Was her name Anne, mama?" "No; you are thinking of Earl Warwick's daughter, who married Prince Edward, the son of Edward the Fourth, and whose dreadful, early death you all have heard of. My little bride was a young queen of Scotland." "Let papa guess now," said Alfred. "Then I shall ask, was the bride the daughter of the king of Norway?" "You are right, and must not now refuse us your history." "I have no desire to do so; and you must all take a journey with me into Scotland, for I wish to be present at a coronation in that country; we shall find a lady asserting the right of her family to crown all the kings of the nation. She was the only representative of it then able to perform the ceremony: she places the diadem on the brow of one destined to continual struggles for liberty; his countenance bespeaks prudence, valour, and great enthusiasm." "I think, George," remarked Mrs. Macdonald, "you have taken a scene from Scottish annals. We have at present confined ourselves to English history. You have, however, puzzled the children, I perceive." "I did not, you must remember, hear any of your rules; but I shall expect the true answer to my account to be given in five minutes by my watch." "Oh, mama! how cruel papa is; pray help us." "I think your father spoke of a Countess Buchan." Ignorance was still confessed, till a hint was given of a spider having urged the same hero in after life to persevere in toil and exertions; the riddle was now soon solved. "I have a story," said Mary, "of a great indignity that was once offered to a royal prisoner, by the orders of the hard-hearted man who had the custody of him. His attendants had brought some water out of a dirty ditch to shave him with; the poor victim meekly submitted; the tears trickled down his cheeks, and he murmured, 'Here is clean warm water, whether you will or no.'" The question of "Was he not a king, and born in Wales?" showed that this subject was known. "The wicked queen, I think," said Annie, "put him into prison, and thus caused all these indignities."