Won't I, Just?

The king tried to have patience, but he succeeded very badly. It

was more than he deserved, therefore, when, at last, the queen gave

him a daughter--as lovely a little princess as ever cried.

The day drew near when the infant must be christened...

The king

wrote all the invitations with his own hand. Of course somebody was

forgotten.

Now it does not generally matter if somebody is forgotten, only you

must mind who. Unfortunately, the king forgot without intending to

forget; and so the chance fell upon the Princess Makemnoit, which

was awkward. For the princess was the king's own sister; and he

ought not to have forgotten her. But she had made herself so

disagreeable to the old king, their father, that he had forgotten

her in making his will; and so it was no wonder that her brother

forgot her in writing his invitations. But poor relations don't do

anything to keep you in mind of them. Why don't they? The king

could not see into the garret she lived in, could he?

She was a sour, spiteful creature. The wrinkles of contempt crossed

the wrinkles of peevishness, and made her face as full of wrinkles

as a pat of butter. If ever a king could be justified in forgetting

anybody, this king was justified in forgetting his sister, even at

a christening. She looked very odd, too. Her forehead was as large

as all the rest of her face, and projected over it like a

precipice. When she was angry, her little eyes flashed blue. When

she hated anybody, they shone yellow and green. What they looked

like when she loved anybody, I do not know; for I never heard of

her loving anybody but herself, and I do not think she could have

managed that if she had not somehow got used to herself. But what

made it highly imprudent in the king to forget her was that she was

awfully clever. In fact, she was a witch; and when she bewitched

anybody, he very soon had enough of it; for she beat all the wicked

fairies in wickedness, and all the clever ones in cleverness. She

despised all the modes we read of in history, in which offended

fairies and witches have taken their revenges; and therefore, after

waiting and waiting in vain for an invitation, she made up her mind

at last to go without one, and make the whole family miserable,

like a princess as she was.

So she put on her best gown, went to the palace, was kindly

received by the happy monarch, who forgot that he had forgotten

her, and took her place in the procession to the royal chapel. When

they were all gathered about the font, she contrived to get next to

it, and throw something into the water; after which she maintained

a very respectful demeanour till the water was applied to the

child's face. But at that moment she turned round in her place

three times, and muttered the following words, loud enough for

those beside her to hear:--

"Light of spirit, by my charms,

Light of body, every part,

Never weary human arms--

Only crush thy parents' heart!"

They all thought she had lost her wits, and was repeating some

foolish nursery rhyme; but a shudder went through the whole of them

notwithstanding. The baby, on the contrary, began to laugh and

crow; while the nurse gave a start and a smothered cry, for she

thought she was struck with paralysis: she could not feel the baby

in her arms. But she clasped it tight and said nothing. The

mischief was done.

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