"Excuse me, your high mightiness," said Ben, pushing back the old table and hurrying over to get the new gift. "Will that suit your Majesty?" he asked, setting it down in front of Jasper's chair.
"Perfectly," said Jasper, setting a good handful of the chessmen on the table, and Ben, bunching the others up from the little hollow in the sofa blanket, they were soon all there in a heap.
"Now which do you choose?" asked Jasper, putting a red and a white piece in either hand, and thrusting them behind him.
"O dear me!" said Ben. "It won't make any difference, for you'll beat me all to death, just as usual."
"Nonsense," laughed Jasper, "you know as much about the game as I do, Ben Pepper!"
"Indeed I don't," said Ben, stoutly contradicting. "Why, you knock the life out of me every time we play. Just think of that last score, Jasper King!"
"Oh, well, a beat doesn't always signify who's the cleverest," said Jasper, quickly.
"Doesn't it?" said Ben, with a little laugh. "Well, I always thought it did."
"Well, which do you choose?" said Jasper, impatiently. "We never shall get to playing if you don't make haste."
"Oh, the right hand," said Ben.