XPETERKIN IN THE PALACE
THROUGH an open skylight of the gilded dome of the palace. That’s where Peterkin landed. Through the open skylight, upon a springy, cushiony sofa. Up he bounced again, almost to the ceiling—then down to the marble floor in a huddle. He lay there stunned and silent for a little while, aching in every limb.
A little lady stood over him when he opened his eyes. She was peering down at him with a white and frightened face—and Peterkin, for all his dizziness, thought he had never seen so beautiful a maiden in the world. For her startled eyes were blue—as blue as the sky had been, abovethe clouds—and her curls were a golden shawl upon her shoulders. Under the white of her lace and cambric gown, her little bare feet came peeping.
Peterkin leaped to his feet, as best he could—for he was sore and stiff. He made a handsome bow and smiled his prettiest smile, with his hand over his heart, as if he were the gallant master of a dancing school. But this only made the little lady’s eyes open the wider with surprise.
“And who are you? And where do you come from? And what do you want in the bed-chamber of her Royal Highness, the Princess Clematis of the Four Kingdoms?”
Peterkin was horrified. “Gracious me!” he stammered. “Where is her Royal Highness Whatever-you-called-her? I must apologize to her for bursting into her father’s palace so suddenly. Indeed, had I been able to, I should havewalked in very humbly by way of the kitchen door or through the garden gate. But, don’t you see, I came so fast that I didn’t have time to choose. So lead me to the princess and let me beg her pardon.”
The little lady rubbed one set of pink toes over the other in a bashful fashion. Her laugh was as light as the rustle of green vines in the spring.
“You are pardoned, merry stranger,” she said. “It is I, the Princess Clematis, who bid you welcome to the palace of the Four Kingdoms.” Then she held out her hand.
Poor Peterkin! His face grew red with flushes. He sank to his knee—in spite of the big bruise on it—and planted a most courteous kiss upon her rosy finger tips. And, if the truth be told, the princess smiled a charming “how-do-you-do,” and found it very easy to forgive him.
But just at that moment, there came a loud rapping at the door and a hubbub of angry voices and a clanking of swords and spears against the walls.
“Ho, hola!” thundered someone without. “Open the door and let me in! I shall find whoever dares to pop into my royal daughter’s chamber, by way of the gilded dome. Ho, hola!”
At this, the little princess ran to fling open the door. And there, with a torch in his hand and a host of armedsentries behind him, stood His Majesty the King. Aye, no less a person than the monarch of the Four Kingdoms himself. Peterkin knew him at once by the jeweled crown which he wore atop his night-cap.
But before he could say a word, the little princess tripped to her father’s side and commenced a sly tickling at his nightie, just where his royal ribs ought to be. And under his crown, the King was just a jolly old man after all. He tried very hard to purse his lips and frown—but under such gentle tickling, there was nothing for it but to burst into a great roaring of laughter. He laughed, laughed—until his eyes were wet and his sides were aching. All of which put him in a better mood and made him look more kindly upon his strange visitor. He clapped the frightened Peterkin upon the back and called him a merry dog, and ended by marching off with him, arm in arm, to the palace’s spare bed-room to give him royal shelter for the night.
Thus it was that the princess, with a little wise tickling, saved a stranger’s life and brought much joy to the Four Kingdoms. But you shall have all that explained another time.