"It's all right, Kit," said King, looking quizzical, "but just how do you happen to be running this court?"
"Oh, I might as well," returned Kitty carelessly. "I don't think the rest of you are very good at it."
"That's so," admitted Tom. "I guess we do squabble a lot."
"It isn't only that," said Kitty, "but you don't have much order and ceremony."
"I've noticed that," put in Dick. "We just talk every-day sort of talk. I think we ought to be grander."
"So do I," agreed Kitty. "Here, Hester, give me that crown; I'll be Queen for to-day, and show you how."
There was nothing bumptious or even dictatorial in Kitty's manner; she merely wanted to show them how a Queen ought to act. So she put the vine wreath on her own head, and breaking a branch from a tall shrub nearby for a sceptre, she seated herself on the dilapidated throne.
"I pray you sit," she said, condescendingly, to her court. "Ha! where is my page?"
"There is no page, O Queen," said the Grand Sandjandrum, looking mortified.
"Thus I create one!" announced Kitty, calmly. "Sand Crab, kneel before me!"