“Yes.”
“May I also be suffered humbly and respectfully to put the question, whether anybody can pardon people for breaking the law, except the Queen?”
EVERY INCH A QUEEN.
“No.”
“Then I reverentially request permission of your gracious Majesty to point out that as you were asked to pardon when he broke the law, you must be the queen.”
“But I’ve got no crown,” said she, quite puzzled.
“I must be condescendingly excused for venturing to differ from your Serene Highness. If you will feel for it, you will find you have a crown to your head.”
“Why, so I have,” said she, and suddenly drawing herself up, and assuming an air of most ridiculous dignity, added, “What, ho! bring hither my sceptre.”
The boys could scarcely keep in their laughter, and the difficulty increased when the policeman produced his baton, and going down on one knee handed it to the old lady, who immediately aimed a fierce blow at his head, crying,—