"She does write lovely poetry," said Hester, "but I like your mother's poem, too, because it,—well, you know what I mean."
Somehow the children all understood that tempestuous Hester appreciated the lines that so gently advised the ruling and subduing of an unruly temper and will, but nobody knew just how to express it.
So King broke a somewhat awkward silence by saying, heartily, "Yep, we know!" and all the others said "Yep" in chorus.
"I think, O Royal Court," the Queen began, "that our first paper is fine. How often shall we issue The Jolly Sandboy?"
"'Bout once a week, I think," said Tom.
"All right," agreed King; "and you fellows get your stuff in a little earlier next week so's I can typewrite it in time."
"And now, my beloved court," resumed Midget, "I think we have sat still long enough, and I decree that we have a game of Prisoner's Base. And what I say goes!"
There was no dissenting voice. The Queen unpinned her court train from her shoulders, the Sand Witch laid aside her tall, peaked hat, and the courtiers discarded such details of their costumes as seemed likely to impede progress in the game. Prisoner's Base was followed by Hide and Seek, and then it was time for the court to repair to its several homes.
"It's all so lovely, Marjorie," said Hester. "I'm so glad you let me play with you."
"That's all right, Hester, as long as you don't smash things or make faces at us."