It was he who had made her her cradle, her little chair, her little stool, her high chair. It was he who would swing her up to table or who would make for her a doll out of an old table-leg, whilst she watched him, saying:
“Make her eyes, Daddy, make her eyes!”
And he made her eyes with his knife.
She was very fond of adorning herself, so he would tie a piece of cotton round her ear, and hang a blue bead on it underneath for an ear-ring. The ear-rings varied with a red bead, and a golden bead, and a little pearl bead. And as he came home at night, seeing her bridling and looking very self-conscious, he took notice and said:
“So you’re wearing your best golden and pearl ear-rings, to-day?”
“Yes.”
“I suppose you’ve been to see the queen?”
“Yes, I have.”
“Oh, and what had she to say?”
“She said—she said—‘You won’t dirty your nice white frock.’”