"I didn't drop—I flew," the Queen said severely; and she looked at the man.
He was stretched on the ground, leaning his back against the wall, and basking in the hot sunlight that fell on him. He was very ragged and very dirty, and he had neither shoes nor stockings, By his side was a basket in which, over white paper frills, nodded the heads of young ferns.
"Why, who are you?" the Queen said. And then her eyes fell on his bare feet. They reminded her of what the Regent had said that morning. "Oh, you must be the poor," she said, "and you want my stockings."
"I don't know about your stockings, lady," the man said; "but if you've got any old clothes to spare, I could give you some nice pots of flowers for them."
The Queen said, "Why, what good would that do you?"
And the man answered, "I should sell them and get some money. I'm fearfully hungry."
"Why don't you have something to eat, then?" the Queen said.
And the man replied, "Because I haven't got any money to buy it with."
"Why don't you take it, then?"
"Because it would be stealing, and stealing's wicked; besides, I should be sent to prison for it."