The king threw a toy cannon at his chief counselor, and the old man ducked to escape it, and then quickly closed the door.
“Bud,” said the princess, softly, “you were just saying it’s great fun to be a king.”
“So it is,” he answered promptly.
“THE KING THREW A TOY CANNON AT HIS CHIEF COUNSELOR.”
“But father used to tell us,” continued the girl, trying a red hat on a brown-haired doll, “that people in this world always have to pay for any good thing they get.”
“What do you mean?” said Bud, with surprise.
“I mean if you’re going to be the king, and wear fine clothes, and eat lovely dinners, and live in a palace, and have countless servants, and all the playthings you want, and your own way in everything and with everybody—then you ought to be willing to pay for all these pleasures.”
“How? But how can I pay for them?” demanded Bud, staring at her.
“By attending the royal receptions, and doing all the disagreeable things the king is expected to do,” she answered.