WON'T I, JUST?
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; but you
must mind who. Unfortunately, the king forgot without intending it; and
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 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. And then she was so disgracefully poor! 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
and a philosopher.
"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 around the font, she contrived to get next to it, and throw
something into the water. She maintained a very respectful demeanor
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 parent's 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. 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."