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PRINCESS AND MICROBE
"I 'm going to climb it, too," said Olivera Rinalda Victorine stubbornly.
"Pshaw, you can't! You 're only a girl," said Auguste Philippe, strutting up and down in his slashed velvet doublet and his feathered cap.
"And you are only a boy," said the Princess, meditatively eying him. She did not say it to be saucy—she was only thinking. Then she deliberately took the hem of her embroidered blue satin skirt in her teeth and began to climb the wall, while Auguste Philippe watched from below with wrath and terror in his eyes. By means of a niche here, a clinging ivy vine there, a window ledge, and, now and then, a friendly, grinning gargoyle, the Princess succeeded, and stood at last triumphant upon the battle-
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