air. "I thought you might tell me about America. I'm
awfully curious about America."
"I suppose you mean the United States."
"I'm not sure. It has New York, in it, anyhow. They don't have kings, do
they?"
"No," said Miss Braithwaite, shortly. She hated republics.
"What I wondered was," said Ferdinand William Otto, swinging his
legs, "how they managed without a king. Who tells them what to do? I'm
interested, because I met a boy yesterday who came from there, and he
talked quite a lot about it. He was a very interesting boy."
Miss Braithwaite waived the matter of yesterday. "In a republic," she
said, "the people think they can govern themselves. But they do it
very badly. The average intelligence among people in the mass is always
rather low."
"He said," went on His Royal Highness, pursuing a line of thought, "that
the greatest man in the world was a man named Lincoln. But that he
is dead. And he said that kings were nuisances, and didn't earn their
bread-and-butter. Of course," Otto hastened to explain, "he didn't know
that my grandfather is a king. After that, I didn't exactly like to tell
him. It would have made him very uncomfortable." Here he yawned, but
covered it with a polite hand, and Oskar, his valet, came to the doorway
and stood waiting. He was a dignified person in a plum-colored livery,
because the King considered black gloomy for a child.
The Crown Prince slipped to the floor, and stood with his feet rather
wide apart, looking steadfastly at Miss Braithwaite. "I would like very
much to see that boy again," he observed. "He was a nice boy, and very
kind-hearted. If we could go to the Scenic Railway when we are out in
the carriage, I--I'd enjoy it." He saw refusal in her face, for he added
hurriedly, "Not to ride. I just want to look at it."
Miss Braithwaite was touched, but firm. She explained that it would be
better if the Crown Prince did not see the boy again; and to soften
the refusal, she reminded him that the American child did not like
royalties, and that even to wave from his carriage with the gold wheels
would therefore be a tactical error.
Prince Ferdinand William Otto listened, and Oskar waited. And something
that had been joyous and singing in a small boy's heart was suddenly
still.
"I had forgotten about that," he said.
Then Miss Braithwaite rose, and the Prince put his heels together with a
click, and bowed, as he had been taught to do.
"Good-night," he said.
"Goo
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