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Oh, Bob, Bob! And he, who was heir of Kingthorpe, had abused the little horse! What would Uncle Isaac say if he knew? And now he could never ride horseback any more! Oh—oh—oh! He must go home and tell Mother. It was dreadful to do it, but he must, he must.,

A smile went round, but Mother was crying and Father, with arms folded, was looking up earnestly at Johnny. From amidst the group of workmen, old Rolfsen, foreman at the wharf, elbowed his way to the table.,

“Oh, my boy!”,

“How did you manage it?” put in Bob, who was thrilled with the narrative.

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When the King heard him speak so boldly, he did not know what to think, and he felt half inclined to let them and their sister go without putting them to death; but his chief adviser, who was an arrant flatterer, dissuaded him from this, telling him that if he did not revenge the insult that had been put upon him, all the world would make fun of him, and look upon him as nothing better than a miserable little King worth a few coppers a day. The King thereupon swore that he would never forgive them, and ordered them to be brought to trial at once. This did not take long; the judges had only to look at the real Rosette's portrait and then at the Princess who had arrived, and, without hesitation, they ordered the prisoners' heads to be cut off as a punishment for having lied to the King, since they had promised him a beautiful Princess, and had only given him an ugly peasant girl. They repaired with great ceremony to the prison to read this sentence to them; but the prisoners declared that they had not lied, that their sister was a Princess, and more beautiful than the day; that there must be something under this which they did not understand, and they asked for a respite of seven days, as before that time had expired their innocence might have been established. The King of the Peacocks, who had worked himself up to a high pitch of anger, could with great difficulty be induced to accord them this grace, but at last he consented.,

“No—are you really?”,

“Thanks, fellows, thanks,” laughed the Chief. “It will be fine for all of us. But that’s enough of my news—what have you chaps been up to? Been bored?”,

“Yes, we love our grand old Norway!” Suddenly he stopped short. Think of his whistling in Kingthorpe Park! It was to be hoped that no one had heard. Of course you should be nice and quiet here. It was to be hoped, too, that that ill-tempered watchdog would not come growling along. Not that Johnny Blossom was afraid of him. Far from it! But that dog was so cross, you couldn’t like him.