The nephew hemmed twice in his throat, and asked, drowsily, “Is it a little-pig story, or a fairy-prince story?” for he had heard from his cousins that their papa would tell you a little-pig story if he got the chance; and you had to look out and ask him which it was going to be beforehand.
“Well, I can't tell,” said the papa. “It's a fairy-prince story to begin with, but it may turn out a little-pig story before it gets to the end. It depends upon how the Prince behaves. But I'm not anxious to tell it,” and the papa put his face into the pillow and pretended to fall instantly asleep again.
“Now, brother, you see!” said the niece. “Being so particular!”
“Well, sister,” said the nephew, “it wasn't my fault. I had to ask him. You know what they said.”
“Well, I suppose we've got to wake him up all over again,” said the niece, with a little sigh; and they began to pull at the papa this way and that, but they could not budge him. As soon as they stopped, he opened his eyes.
“Now don't say, ‘Where am I?’” said the niece.
The papa could not help laughing, because that was just the very thing he was going to say. “Well, all right! What about that story? Do you want to hear it, and take your chances of its being a Prince to the end?”
“I suppose we'll have to; won't we, sister?”
“Yes, we'll leave it all to you, uncle,” said the niece; and she thought she would coax him up a little, and so she went on: “I know you won't be mean about it. Will he, brother?”
“No,” said the nephew. “I'll bet the Prince will keep a Prince all the way through. What'll you bet, sister?”