"No, you don't, Hal. That is all my father's, and it will be all mine some day; but I like being at your place ever so much better than being here."
"You don't. Nonsense!"
"I do, I tell you. Your little garden's lovely, and the dear old landing-place is ten times nicer than our marble steps."
"You've been out in the sun too much, Phra, and it has turned your head."
"That it hasn't. And as to your father being king, he'd soon be very tired of it, as my father is; for it's all worry and care."
Harry had thrown himself sprawling on the grass beside his companion, and the boys were both silent for a while, as if listening to the soft cooing of one of the beautiful little rose and green doves which frequented the garden.
"It's very curious," said Harry at last.
"What is?" said Phra wonderingly.
"That the poison of that snake—such a wee, tiny drop as got into me—should have such a droll effect."
"I don't see anything droll in it," replied Phra.