Then the Princess Alicia hurried down-stairs again, to keep watch in
the queen’s room. She often kept watch by herself in the queen’s room;
but every evening, while the illness lasted, she sat there watching
with the king. And every evening the king sat looking at her with a
cross look, wondering why she never brought out the magic fish-bone.
As often as she noticed this, she ran up-stairs, whispered the secret
to the duchess over again, and said to the duchess, “They think we
children never have a reason or a meaning!” And the duchess, though the
most fashionable duchess that ever was heard of, winked her eye.
“Alicia,” said the king, one evening when she wished him good night.
“Yes, papa.”
“What is become of your magic fish-bone?”
“In my pocket, papa!”
“I thought you had lost it?”
“Oh no, papa.”
“Or forgotten it?”
“No, indeed, papa.”
And so another time the dreadful little snapping pug-dog, next door,
made a rush at one of the young princes as he stood on the steps coming
home from school, and terrified him out of his wits; and he put his
hand through a pane of glass, and bled, bled, bled. When the seventeen
other young princes and princesses saw him bleed, bleed, bleed, they
were terrified out of their wits too, and screamed themselves black
in their seventeen faces all at once. But the Princess Alicia put
her hands over all their seventeen mouths, one after another, and
persuaded them to be quiet because of the sick queen. And then she put
the wounded prince’s hand in a basin of fresh cold water, while they
stared with their twice seventeen are thirty-four, put down four and
carry three, eyes, and then she looked in the hand for bits of glass,
and there were fortunately no bits of glass there. And then she said
to two chubby-legged princes, who were sturdy though small, “Bring me
in the royal rag-bag: I must snip and stitch and cut and contrive.”
So these two young princes tugged at the royal rag-bag, and lugged it
in; and the Princess Alicia sat down on the floor, with a large pair
of scissors and a needle and thread, and snipped and stitched and
cut and contrived, and made a bandage, and put it on, and it fitted
beautifully; and so when it was all done, she saw the king her papa
looking on by the door.
“Alicia.”
“Yes, papa.”
“What have you been doing?”
“Snipping, stitching, cutting, and contriving, papa.”
“Where is the magic fish-bone?”
“In my pocket, papa.”
“I thought you had lost it?”
“Oh no, papa!”
“Or forgotten it?”
“No, indeed, papa.”
After that, she ran up-stairs to the duchess, and told her what had
passed, and told her the secret over again: and the duchess shook her
flaxen curls, and laughed with her rosy lips.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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