“No! I don’t think anything of him. He’s only a poor German prince, brought over by the Whigs. I always feel ready to laugh in his face.”
“I say,” cried Frank, looking at his companion in horror, “do you know what you are saying?”
“Oh yes; and I don’t think a great deal of the Prince. My father got me here; but I don’t feel in my place, and I’m not going to sacrifice myself, even if I am one of the pages. I believe in the Stuarts, and I always shall.”
“This is more treasonable than what you said before.”
“Well, it’s the truth.”
“Perhaps it is. I say, you’re a head taller than I am.”
“Yes, I know that.”
“But you don’t seem to know that if you talk like that you’ll soon be the same height.”
“What, you think my principles will keep me standing still, while yours make you grow tall?”
“No. I think if it gets known you’ll grow short all in a moment.”