At last, when every one had waited some time, the Queen pulled a petal off one flower, and began to eat, so every one else began; and what the apple-woman had said was quite true. Jack knew that he never had tasted anything half so nice, and he was quite sorry when he could not eat any more. So, when every one had finished, the Queen leaned her arm on the edge of the boat, and, turning her lovely face towards Mopsa, said, “I want to whisper to you, sister.”
“Oh!” said Mopsa, “I wish I was in Jack’s waistcoat pocket again; but I’m so big now.” And she took hold of the two sides of his velvet jacket, and hid her face between them.
“My old mother sent a message last night,” continued the Queen, in a soft, sorrowful voice. “She is much more powerful than we are.”
“What is the message?” asked Mopsa; but she still hid her face.
So the Queen moved over, and put her lips close to Mopsa’s ear, and repeated it: “There cannot be two queens in one hive.”
“If Mopsa leaves the hive, a fine swarm will go with her,” said the apple-woman. “I shall, for one; that I shall!”
“No!” answered the Queen. “I hope not, dear; for you know well that this is my old mother’s doing, not mine.”
“Oh!” said Mopsa; “I feel as if I must tell a story too, just as the Queen does.” But the apple-woman broke out in a very cross voice, “It’s not at all like Fairyland, if you go on in this way, and I would as lieve be out of it as in it.” Then she began to sing, that she and Jack might not hear Mopsa’s story:
“On the rocks by Aberdeen,
Where the whislin’ wave had been,