palace in short order."

"Poor Lady Jane Grey!" said Migwan. "I'm glad I wasn't in her shoes. I'm
glad I'm not in any royalty's shoes. With all their pomp and splendor
they never have half the fun we're having at this minute," she continued
vehemently. "They never went off on a hike by themselves and slept on
the ground with their heads under a canoe. It's lots nicer to be free,
even if you _are_ a nobody."

"I think so too," Sahwah agreed with her emphatically.

"My girl," said Jo, in her turn, "was crowned queen at the age of nine
months and betrothed to the King of France when she was five years old.
That's all I know about her early days, except that she had four
intimate friends all named Mary."

"Mary, Queen of Scots," guessed Gladys, who was taking a history course
in college. "Somehow I never could get up much sympathy for her; she
seemed such a spineless sort of creature. I always preferred Queen
Elizabeth, even if she did cut off Mary's head."

"Every single one of the heroines so far has died a violent death,"
remarked Miss Amesbury. "Is that the only kind of women you admire?"

"It seems so," replied Migwan, laughing. "We're a bloodthirsty lot. Go
on, Katherine."

Katherine dropped the log she was carrying upon the fire and kept her
eye upon it as she spoke. "I see a brilliant assemblage, gathered in the
palace of the Empress of Austria to hear a wonderful boy musician play
on the piano. As the young lad, who is none other than the great Mozart,
enters the room, he first approaches the Empress to make his bow to her.
The polished floor is extremely slippery, and he slips and falls flat.
The courtiers, who consider him very clumsy, do nothing but laugh at
him, but the young daughter of the Empress runs forward, helps him to
his feet and comforts him with soothing words."

"I always did think that was the most charming anecdote ever related
about Marie Antoinete," observed Migwan. "She must have been a very
sweet and lovable young girl; it doesn't seem possible that she grew up
to be the kind of woman she did."

"Another one who lost her head!" remarked Miss Amesbury, laughing.
"Aren't there going to be any who live to grow old? Let's see who
Hinpoha's favorite heroine is."

Hinpoha moved back a foot or so from the fire, which had blazed up to an
uncomfortable heat at the addition of Katherine's log. "I see a Puritan
maiden, seated at a spinning wheel," she commenced. "The door opens and
a young ma