Anna got frightened and fled down the avenue, but I had the weakness to remain at the Baron's side until we reached the palace. Alas, Frederick Augustus wasn't as good a talker as the Baron. [Illustration: FREDERICK AUGUSTUS, REIGNING KING OF SAXONY Louise's Ex-Husband] CHAPTER X MY POPULARITY RENDERS GEORGE DYSPEPTIC The Cudgel-Majesty--Prince George's intrigues--No four-horse coach for Princess--Popular demonstration in my favor--"All-highest" displeasure. DRESDEN, _September 1, 1893_. I haven't lived up to my promise to keep a daily record, or even a weekly one. Those tales of my girlhood days disgusted me with diary keeping as far as my early experiences at home went and I reflected that many of the subsequent happenings in my life might be safer in the shrine of memory, than spread over the pages of a blank-book, even though no one sees it and I carry its golden key on a chain around my neck. We are back in the capital now and things are moving. Great doings had been planned for our reception, for the re-entry of the little prince, my baby, and his mother who is expected to give another child to Saxony at the end of the year. Two babies in one year! I am going to beat the German Empress, and if Wilhelm doesn't send me a medal I will cut him dead the next time I see him! Well, about that reception. Flags, triumphal arches, speeches by the burgo-master, white-robed virgins at the station and all that sort of thing! But Father-in-law George said "no." Anything that gives joy to others goes against his royal grain, gives him politico-economic dyspepsia. He doesn't want me to be popular,--neither me, nor Frederick Augustus, nor the baby. George will be the next king, and if the Dresdeners or the Saxons want to "_Hoch the King_," they must "_Hoch_" George. They MUST. "It's their damned duty," says George the Pious, who never blasphemes on his own account, but allows himself some license concerning his subjects. His attitude recalls the story told of Frederick William the First of Prussia, whose appearance on the streets of Berlin used to cause passers-by to run to save their back. Upon one occasion His Majesty caught one of these fugitives, and whacking him over the head with his Spanish reed, cried angrily: "What do you want to run away from me for?" "Because I'm afraid of your Royal Majesty," stuttered the poor devil. "Afraid?" thundered Frederick William, giving the fellow another whack with his cane. "Afraid?"--the beating continuing--"when I, your King, commanded you to love me. Love me, you miserable coward, love God's Anointed." And the loving Majesty broke his cane on the unloving subject's back. Two days before our arrival Prince George sent his adjutant, Baron de Metsch-Reichenbeck, to the Mayor of Dresden, stopping all reception arrangements contemplated.