cried the poor child.

"No, you wicked beast!" says Gruffanuff, driving her along with the
poker--driving her down the cold stairs--driving her through the cold
hall--flinging her out into the cold street, so that the knocker itself
shed tears to see her!

But a kind fairy made the soft snow warm for her little feet, and she
wrapped herself up in the ermine of her mantle, and was gone!

"And now let us think about breakfast," says the greedy Queen.

"What dress shall I put on, mamma? the pink or the pea-green?" says
Angelica. "Which do you think the dear Prince will like best?"

"Mrs. V.!" sings out the King from his dressing-room, "let us have
sausages for breakfast! Remember we have Prince Bulbo staying with us!"

And they all went to get ready.

Nine o'clock came, and they were all in the breakfast-room, and no
Prince Bulbo as yet. The urn was hissing and humming: the muffins were
smoking--such a heap of muffins! the eggs were done, there was a pot
of raspberry jam, and coffee, and a beautiful chicken and tongue on the
side-table. Marmitonio the cook brought in the sausages. Oh, how nice
they smelt!

"Where is Bulbo?" said the King. "John, where is His Royal Highness?"

John said he had a took hup His Roilighnessesses shaving-water, and
his clothes and things, and he wasn't in his room, which he sposed His
Royliness was just stepped hout.

"Stepped out before breakfast in the snow! Impossible!" says the King,
sticking his fork into a sausage. "My dear, take one. Angelica, won't
you have a saveloy?" The Princess took one, being very fond of them; and
at this moment Glumboso entered with Captain Hedzoff, both looking very
much disturbed.

"I am afraid Your Majesty--" cries Glumboso.

"No business before breakfast, Glum!" says the King. "Breakfast first,
business next. Mrs. V., some more sugar!"

"Sire, I am afraid if we wait till after breakfast it will be too late,"
says Glumboso. "He--he--he'll be hanged at half-past nine."

"Don't talk about hanging and spoil my breakfast, you unkind, vulgar
man you," cries the Princess. "John, some mustard. Pray who is to be
hanged?"

"Sire, it is the Prince," whispers Glumboso to the King.

"Talk about business after breakfast, I tell you!" says his Majesty,
quite sulky.

"We shall have a war, Sire, depend on it," says the Minister. "His
father, King Padella. . . ."

"His father, King WHO?" says the King. "King Padella is not Giglio's
father. My brother,