Children's stories, English; Fairy tales; Fairy tales -- Great Britain
The first awkwardness that resulted from this unhappy privation was,
that the moment the nurse began to float the baby up and down, she flew
from her arms towards the ceiling. Happily, the resistance of the air
brought her ascending career to a close within a foot of it. There she
remained, horizontal as when she left her nurse's arms, kicking and
laughing amazingly. The nurse in terror flew to the bell, and begged
the footman, who answered it, to bring up the house-steps directly.
Trembling in every limb, she climbed upon the steps, and had to stand
upon the very top, and reach up, before she could catch the floating
tail of the baby's long clothes.
When the strange fact came to be known, there was a terrible commotion
in the palace. The occasion of its discovery by the king was naturally
a repetition of the nurse's experience. Astonished that he felt no
weight when the child was laid in his arms, he began to wave her up and
not down, for she slowly ascended to the ceiling as before, and there
remained floating in perfect comfort and satisfaction, as was testified
by her peals of tiny laughter. The king stood staring up in speechless
amazement, and trembled so that his beard shook like grass in the wind.
At last, turning to the queen, who was just as horror-struck as
himself, he said, gasping, staring, and stammering,--
"She can't be ours, queen!"
Now the queen was much cleverer than the king, and had begun already to
suspect that "this effect defective came by cause."
"I am sure she is ours," answered she. "But we ought to have taken
better care of her at the christening. People who were never invited
ought not to have been present."
"Oh, ho!" said the king, tapping his forehead with his forefinger, "I
have it all. I've found her out. Don't you see it, queen? Princess
Makemnoit has bewitched her." "That's just what I say," answered the
queen.
"I beg your pardon, my love; I did not hear you.--John! bring the steps
I get on my throne with."
For he was a little king with a great throne, like many other kings.
The throne-steps were brought, and set upon the dining-table, and John
got upon the top of them. But he could not reach the little princess,
who lay like a baby-laughter-cloud in the air, exploding continuously.
"Take the tongs, John," said his Majesty; and getting up on the table,
he handed them to him.
John could reach the baby now, and the little princess was handed down
by the tongs.
4. Where Is She?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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