such a thing. She did not believe in fairies: she said that
they had never existed; and that she maintained, though _The History of
the Royal Family_ was full of chapters about nothing else.

Well, at long and at last they had a little boy, who was generally
regarded as the finest baby that had ever been seen. Even her majesty
herself remarked that, though she could never believe all the courtiers
told her, yet he certainly was a fine child--a very fine child.

Now, the time drew near for the christening party, and the king and queen
were sitting at breakfast in their summer parlour talking over it. It
was a splendid room, hung with portraits of the royal ancestors. There
was Cinderella, the grandmother of the reigning monarch, with her little
foot in her glass slipper thrust out before her. There was the Marquis
de Carabas, who, as everyone knows, was raised to the throne as prince
consort after his marriage with the daughter of the king of the period.
On the arm of the throne was seated his celebrated cat, wearing boots.
There, too, was a portrait of a beautiful lady, sound asleep: this was
Madame La Belle au Bois-dormant, also an ancestress of the royal family.
Many other pictures of celebrated persons were hanging on the walls.

"You have asked all the right people, my dear?" said the king.

"Everyone who should be asked," answered the queen.

"People are so touchy on these occasions," said his majesty. "You have
not forgotten any of our aunts?"

"No; the old cats!" replied the queen; for the king's aunts were
old-fashioned, and did not approve of her, and she knew it.

"They are very kind old ladies in their way," said the king; "and were
nice to me when I was a boy."

Then he waited a little, and remarked:

"The fairies, of course, you have invited? It has always been usual, in
our family, on an occasion like this; and I think we have neglected them
a little of late."

"How _can_ you be so _absurd_?" cried the queen. "How often must I tell
you that there are _no_ fairies? And even if there were--but, no matter;
pray let us drop the subject."

"They are very old friends of our family, my dear, that's all," said the
king timidly. "Often and often they have been godmothers to us. One, in
particular, was most kind and most serviceable to Cinderella I., my own
grandmother."

"Your grandmother!" interrupted her majesty. "Fiddle-de-dee! If anyone
puts such nonsense into the head of my little Pr