SHE LAUGHS TOO MUCH.
Meantime, notwithstanding awkward occurrences, and griefs that she
brought her parents to, the little princess laughed and grew,--not fat,
but plump and tall. She reached the age of seventeen, without having
fallen into any worse scrape than a chimney; by rescuing her from
which, a little bird-nesting urchin got fame and a black face. Nor,
thoughtless as she was, had she committed any thing worse than laughter
at everybody and everything that came in her way. When she heard that
General Clanrunfort was cut to pieces with all his forces she laughed;
when she heard that the enemy was on his way to besiege her papa's
capital, she laughed hugely; but when she heard that the city would
most likely be abandoned to the mercy of the enemy's soldiery,--why
then she laughed immoderately. These were merely reports invented for
the sake of experiment. But she never could be brought to see the
serious side of anything. When her mother cried she said:--
"'What queer faces mamma makes! And she squeezes water out her cheeks?
Funny mamma!'
"And when her papa stormed at her, she laughed, and danced round and
round him, clapping her hands, and crying:--
"'Do it again, papa. Do it again! It's such fun. Dear funny papa!'
"And if he tried to catch her, she glided from him in an instant; not
in the least afraid of him, but thinking it part of the game not to be
caught. With one push of her foot, she would be floating in the air
above his head; or she would go dancing backwards and forwards and
sideways, like a great butterfly. It happened several times, when her
father and mother were holding a consultation about her in private,
that they were interrupted by vainly repressed outbursts of laughter
over their heads; looking up with indignation, saw her floating at full
length in the air above them, whence she regarded them with the most
comical appreciation of the position.
"One day an awkward accident happened. The princess had come out upon
the lawn with one of her attendants, who held her by the hand. Spying
her father at the other side of the lawn, she snatched her hand from
the maid's and sped across to him. Now when she wanted to run alone her
custom was to catch up a stone in each hand, so that she might come
down again after a bound. Whatever she wore as part of her attire had
no effect in this way; even gold, when it thus became as it were a part
of herself, lost all its weight for the time. But whatever she only
held in her hands retained its downward tendency. On this occasion she
could see nothing to catch up, but a huge toad, that was walking across
the lawn as if he had a hundred years to do it in. Not knowing what
disgust meant, for this was one of her peculiarities, she snatched up
the toad, and bounded away. She had almost reached her father, and he
was holding out his arms to receive her and take from her lips the kiss
which hovered on them like butterfly on a rosebud, when a puff of wind
blew her aside into the arms of a young page, who had just been
receiving a message from his majesty. Now it was no great peculiarity
in the princess that once she was set a-going, it always cost her time
and trouble to check herself. On this occasion there was no time. She
_must_ kiss,--and she kissed the page. She did not mind it much;
for she had no shyness on his composition; and she knew, besides, that
she could not help it. So she only laughed like a musical-box. The poor
page fared the worst. For the princess, trying to correct the
unfortunate tendency of the kiss, put out her hands to keep her off the
page; so that, along with the kiss, he received on the other cheek a
slap with a huge black toad, which she poked right into his eye. He
tried to laugh too; but it resulted in a very odd contortion of
countenance, which showed that there was no danger of him pluming
himself on the kiss. Indeed it is not safe to be kissed by princesses.
As for the king, his dignity was greatly hurt, and he did not speak to
the page for a whole month.
"I may here remark that it was very amusing to see her run, if her mode
of progression could properly be called running. For first, she would
make a bound; then having alighted, she would run a few steps, and make
another bound. Sometimes she would fancy she had reached the ground
before she actually had, and her feet would go backwards and forwards,
running upon nothing at all, like those of a chicken on its back. Then
she would laugh like the very spirit of fun; only in her laugh there
was something missing. What it was I find myself unable to describe. I
think it was a certain tone, depending upon the possibility of
sorrow,--_morbidezza_, perhaps. She never smiled."