CHAPTER XIII.
THE CORONATION.
In the afternoon, we had our grand rally at the Queen's Stair-way. Corny couldn't come, because her mother said she must not be running around so much. So she staid at home and worked on the new flag for the coronation. We designed this flag among us. It had a black ground, with a yellow sun just rising out of the middle of it. It didn't cost much, and looked more like a yellow cog-wheel rolling in deep mud than anything else. But we thought it would do very well.
Rectus and I had barely reached the stairs, by the way of the old fort, when Priscilla made her appearance in the ravine at the head of a crowd of whooping barefooted young rascals, who came skipping along as if they expected something to eat.
"I'd never be a queen," said Rectus, "if I had to have such a lot of subjects as that."
"Don't think you would," said I; "but we mustn't let 'em come up the stairs. They must stay at the bottom, so that we can harangue 'em." So we charged down the stairs, and made the adherents bunch themselves on the level ground.
Then we harangued them, and they laughed, and hurrahed, and whistled, and jumped, while Priscilla, as an active emissary, ran around among them, punching them, and trying to make them keep still and listen.
But as they all promised to stick to us and the royal queen through thick and thin, we didn't mind a little disorder.
The next day but one was to be coronation day, and we impressed it on the minds of the adherents that they must be sure to be on hand about ten in the morning, in front of the queen's hut. We concluded not to call it a palace until after the ceremony.