‘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?’
‘O, 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.