“And is n’t the king’s will the law?” continued Bud.
“Certainly, your Majesty!”
“Well, if that is so, just understand that I won’t come. Go away and let me alone!”
“But the people expect your Majesty to attend the royal reception,” protested old Tullydub, greatly astonished. “It is the usual custom, you know; and they would be greatly disappointed if your Majesty did not appear.”
“I don’t care,” said Bud, “You get out of here and let me alone!”
“But, your Majesty—”
The king threw a toy cannon at his chief counselor, and the old man ducked to escape it, and then quickly closed the door.
“The king threw a toy cannon at his chief counselor”
“Bud,” said the princess, softly, “you were just saying it’s great fun to be a king.”
“So it is,” he answered promptly.
“But father used to tell us,” continued the girl, trying a red hat on a brown-haired doll, “that people in this world always have to pay for any good thing they get.”
“What do you mean?” inquired Bud, with surprise.
“I mean if you ’re going to be the king, and wear fine clothes, and eat lovely dinners, and live in a palace, and have countless servants, and all the playthings you want, and your own way in everything and with everybody—then you ought to be willing to pay for all these pleasures.”
“How? But how can I pay for them?” demanded Bud, staring at her.
“By attending the royal receptions, and doing all the disagreeable things the king is expected to do,” she answered.
Bud thought about it for a minute. Then he got up, walked over to his sister, and kissed her.
“I believe you ‘re right, Fluff,” he said, with a sigh. “I ‘ll go to that reception to-night, and take it as I would take a dose of medicine.”
