ilst Alphonse took a thin
switch and gently beat amongst the flowers, which grew in great
profusion.

Presently a cloud of large, brilliant butterflies flew up, and the
children, shouting, started off in chase of them. The train-bearers were
not proof against the excitement of the moment, and, quite forgetting
their post of honour, scampered off pell-mell with the rest, leaving
their majesties looking rather foolish.

"The rude little things, to run off in that manner!" cried the queen.

"Here, I say, you Alphonse!" shouted the king, forgetting his dignity,
"come back! I shan't play if you're going off like that. Come back."

But Alphonse was too busy chasing a brown and gold butterfly to heed
King Philip or anybody else.

Just then there flew past an immense butterfly with wings of crimson,
black, and gold. Philip immediately forgot all about being a king; away
went ball and sceptre, and off he started in full chase. Now the queen
loved butterflies no less than the king, so no sooner did she see him
take to his heels than she started off in pursuit of the same butterfly.

Away they both went, their trains flying behind them, over hillocks and
through bushes, quite regardless of their fine clothing.

The butterfly led them a fine dance; many a time they thought they had
got it, but it always managed to fly off just as the extended thumb and
finger were about to close upon it. Philip and Pepitia were tired,
though by no means inclined to give up the chase, when the butterfly
burrowed itself deep into a convolvulus flower that grew on the top of a
not very high bank.

"Now we shall have him," cried Philip, as they both scrambled up the
bank. But, alack and alas! Pepitia's foot got caught in her long train
just as she got to the top of the bank, and down she fell, roly-poly, to
the bottom.

Poor Pepitia! she quite forgot she was a queen, and began to cry most
lustily, not the less because she could not use her arms to raise
herself, for in her tumble she had got so rolled round and round in her
train that she could not move her limbs.

Philip ran quickly to her assistance, and soon extricated her from her
embarrassment, but as she still continued to cry, he tenderly, for he
was a tender-hearted boy, sat her down on a grassy mound and tried to
console her.

"What is the matter? Have you hurt yourself, dear?"

But Pepitia only sobbed and sobbed instead of answering, partly because
she was hurt, and partly beca