"Your Majesty is now of an age to need no governess. I think a tutor would be more suitable—with your Majesty's consent."
"Well, who's to be my tutor, then?" the Queen said.
"I had purposed according that inestimable honour to myself," the Regent answered.
"Oh, I say! You'll never do!" the Queen remarked. "You could never darn a pair of stockings, or comb my hair. You'd be so awfully clumsy."
"Your Majesty has no need to have your royal stockings darned; you can always have a new pair."
"But that would be so fearfully wasteful!" the Queen said.
"Your Majesty might give the other pairs to the poor."
"But what are 'the poor'?"
"The poor are wicked, idle people—too wicked to work and earn the money, and too dirty to wear stockings," the Regent said.
"But what would be the good of my stockings to them?" the Queen asked.