Part 15 (2/2)

”And you too,” said Queen Grumpy to the old woman, ”you should be very happy. You loop your dress above your red flannel petticoat and trot round all day, baking bread and churning b.u.t.ter. You have nothing ever to vex or worry you.”

”Nothing to vex or worry me!” repeated the old woman in astonishment.

”Why, I am vexed that I must churn my b.u.t.ter, and at this very minute I am worried lest the loaves I left baking in the oven may burn before I am home again. And indeed, Your Royal Highness, I loop my dress above my red flannel petticoat only because I must. A hundred times a day I wish I were you and could wear trailing velvet robes sewn thick with gold!”

Now as these four discontented old folk talked on, a curious plan popped into their heads. They decided to change places. Accordingly, Queen Grumpy took the old woman's dress and looped it above the red flannel petticoat; the old woman b.u.t.toned herself into Queen Grumpy's trailing velvet robes. King Crosspatch put on the old man's battered hat; the old man set the sparkling diamond crown above his sunburned brow, and all was done. Then singing and laughing, these four old folk went on their separate ways. All four felt a.s.sured that they were really walking on the road to happiness at last, and all were very pleased and jolly in consequence.

”Oh, there's no place like a palace, A palace, a palace!

Oh, there's no place like a palace Upon a hill so high!”

sang the old man and his old wife as they climbed up the steep hill.

”Oh, there's no place like a cottage, A cottage, a cottage!

Oh, there's no place like a cottage Down in a valley green!”

sang King Crosspatch and Queen Grumpy, and they went trudging down. Then when they reached the snug little cottage, how pleased they were to be sure! Everything was so cozy and comfortable to behold. The kettle on the hearth was boiling, and the loaves in the oven were browning; the bird in the cage was singing, and the cat on the cus.h.i.+on was purring.

The table was laid with all manner of good things for tea.

”The blackberry pie! The blackberry pie! My dear, let's have it at once!” cried King Crosspatch, and went searching through cupboard and larder to find it.

”Wait just a moment until I have made the tea,” answered Queen Grumpy, busily bustling about the kitchen. She made the tea, and he found the blackberry pie, and then they both sat down to supper. There were ever and ever so many good things on the table. There were cold roast fowls and quince preserves; there were strawberry tarts and plum as well; there was fresh new b.u.t.ter, and there was thick sweet cream. Queen Grumpy and King Crosspatch ate them all and then began to think about dessert!

”Now would you mind, my dear, if I should eat all the blackberry pie myself?” asked King Crosspatch of Queen Grumpy. ”You see, I have only read about blackberry pie in books and have never tasted one in all my life before.”

”Not at all, my dear!” replied Queen Grumpy most amiably. ”I intend to eat all this ginger cake which I have never seen or tasted before.” And so this royal old couple continued to eat until both larder and cupboard were bare.

”How fine this little cottage is and how very snug!” said Queen Grumpy, seating herself in a rocker before the blazing logs. She began to knit on a gray wool sock she found. ”I think we shall be very happy here.”

”And I think so too,” agreed King Crosspatch. ”We have eaten a fine supper in a very few minutes and without any fuss of footmen or ladies-in-waiting either.” He found a briarwood pipe and began to doze peacefully in deep contentment. Queen Grumpy knitted busily until the logs burned low, when she began to nod and doze also. Then they both went to bed.

But the beds in the snug little cottage were not of the excellent quality of its cold roasted fowls and new b.u.t.ter and jam. The mattresses were rough affairs. They were stuffed here with corn husks and there with straw and yet again with goose feathers, which p.r.i.c.ked Queen Grumpy and King Crosspatch like so many pins. On these rough husky beds the royal old couple tossed restlessly until morning. They vowed they did not sleep a wink. (Perhaps they had eaten too much blackberry pie and ginger cake; what do you think about it?) When it was daylight at last, King Crosspatch clapped his hands to call his servants to attend.

”Ah, my dear!” said Queen Grumpy, ”have you forgotten that we are no longer royal folk but simple cottagers instead?”

”Indeed, I had quite forgotten all about it,” replied King Crosspatch.

”Well, I am glad we are,” and he began to dress.

Together they set about making breakfast; but again the breakfast proved a different matter from supper. You will remember that they had eaten everything in the cupboard and larder the night before. There was no milk, for they had forgotten to milk the cow, and neither were there eggs. They had neglected to search the nests. Moreover, the wood box was empty, and the fire was out.

”Now do you go out and chop some wood for the fire, my dear,” said Queen Grumpy. ”I shall milk the cow. I have always liked to look at pictures of milkmaids.” She took the pail on her arm and went in search of the three-legged stool. Then she seated herself beside Bossy-Cow and began to milk. But sad to tell, Bossy-Cow, who herself was rather disagreeable, waited until the pail was nearly filled, and then she gave a sudden kick. Such a vicious kick it was, too! It upset the milk-pail, three-legged stool, Queen Grumpy and all, and frightened the poor old queen half out of her wits. She began to scream so loudly that she quite frightened King Crosspatch, and the hatchet slipped and chopped a bit of his little finger.

”Oh! Oh! Oh!” wailed King Crosspatch at the very top of his voice. ”I think this hatchet is bewitched! Oh! Oh! Oh!” he wept, holding up his little finger. (It was not much of a cut; just a little scratch; but he was a great crosspatch, you know.) ”Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do?” he wailed. ”With this terrible cut on my little finger, I can't do anything at all!”

”There now, there now,” petted Queen Grumpy soothingly. ”Don't chop any more wood. There are still a few drops of milk left in my pail, and we shall drink that and eat bread for our breakfast.” She led her weeping husband within the snug little cottage, but when she looked in the oven she found another disappointment. Queen Grumpy had forgotten to take the loaves out of the oven the night before, and they were burned to a crisp.

”Oh, this plagued cottage!” exclaimed Queen Grumpy, thoroughly vexed.

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