"There are sundry traitorous persons of the faction of the late Regent,
whose existence is dangerous to the peace of the realm, and against whom
I wish to issue writs of attainder if your Majesty will consent."
"Yes, I thought so," the Queen said. "How many are there?"
"Three thousand nine hundred and forty," the Regent said, looking at a
great scroll.
"Good gracious!" the Queen said. "Why, that's five times as many as
ever there were before."
The Regent stroked his beard "There is a great deal of disaffection in
the land," he said.
"Why, the last Regent said the people were ever so contented," the Queen
answered.
"The last Regent has deceived your Majesty."
"That's what they all say about the last Regent. Why, it was only the
other day that he told me that you were deceitful--and you _are_--and he
said that you had thrown your wife into a yard full of hungry dogs, in
order that you might marry me."
"Your Majesty," the Regent said, flushing with heavy anger, "the late
Regent was a tyrant, and all tyrants are untruthful, as your Majesty's
wisdom must tell you. My wife had the misfortune to fall into a
bear-pit, and, as for my daring to raise my eyes as high as your
Majesty----"
"Why, you're looking at me now," the Queen said. "However, it doesn't
matter. You can't marry me till I'm twenty-one, and I shan't be that
for some time. By-the-by, who's going to be my next governess?"
"Your Majesty is now of an age to need no governess. I think a tutor
would be more suitable--with your Majesty's consent."
"Well, who's to be my tutor, then?" the Queen said.
"I had purposed according that inestimable honour to myself," the Regent
answered.
"Oh, I say! You'll never do!" the Queen remarked. "You could never
darn a pair of stockings, or comb my hair. You'd be so awfully clumsy."
"Your Majesty has no need to have your royal stockings darned; you can
always have a new pair."
"But that would be so fearfully wasteful!" the Queen said.
"Your Majesty might give the other pairs to the poor."
"But what _are_ 'the poor'?"
"The poor are wicked, idle people--too wicked to work and earn the
money, and too dirty to wear stockings," the Regent said.
"But what would be the good of my stockings to them?" the Queen asked.
"It is the usual thing, your Majesty," the Regent said. "But will your
Majesty be pleased to sign these papers?"
The Queen said, "Oh yes, I'll sign them, if you'll just go down into the
kitchen and ask for a piece of raw meat, about the size of my hand, and
a piece of red flannel about large enough to go round a bat. Oh, and
what's a good thing for rheumatism?"
The Regent looked a little surprised. "I--your Majesty, I really don't
exactly know."
"Oh, well, ask the cook or somebody."
"Well, but--couldn't I send a servant, your Majesty?" the Regent said.
"No, that wouldn't be any good," the Queen said. "If you're to take the
place of my governess you'll have to do that sort of thing, you know."
The Regent bowed. "Of course I shall be only too grateful for your
Majesty's commands. I merely thought that your Majesty might need some
assistance in signing the papers."
But the Queen answered, "Oh no, I can manage that sort of thing well
enough myself. I'm quite used to it; so be quick, and remember, a nice
juicy piece of raw meat and some red flannel, and--oh, opodeldoc; that's
just the thing. Be quick! I don't want to keep the bat waiting."
The Regent went backwards out of the room, bowing at every three steps,
and, as he was clad in armour from top to toe, he made a clanking
noise--quite like a tinker's cart, if you've ever beard one.
So, left to herself, the Queen signed the papers one after the other.
They all began--
"By THE QUEEN, A PROCLAMATION, E.R.
"Whereas by our Proclamation given this 1st day of May----
But the Queen never read any further than that, because she could never
quite understand what it all meant. At the last signature the happened
to make a little blot, and somehow or other the ink happened to get into
one of her nails, and that annoyed her. It _is_ so difficult to get ink
out of one's nails.
"I don't care if I never sign another Proclamation," she said; "and I
hope I never shall. Now, look here," she continued to the Regent, who at
that moment entered. "If you were a governess I should be able to make
you get this ink out; but how can I ask a man to do that?"
"I will make the attempt, if your Majesty pleases," the Regent said.
"Well, but you haven't got any nail-scissors," the Queen replied.
"I might use my sword," the Regent suggested.
But the Queen shivered. "Ugh! fancy having a great ugly thing like that
for it!" she said. "Oh, well, you've brought the things! Here are your
papers. They're all signed; and, if you want anything else, you'll have
to come into the garden."
And she took up the meat and the flannel and the opodeldoc and went into
the garden, leaving the Regent with the idea that he had made rather a
bad business by becoming the Queen's attendant. But he was a very
determined man, and merely set his teeth the firmer.
Under the overhanging rose tree the Queen sat awaiting the bat's
awakening.
"It never does to wake him up," she said. "It makes him so bad
tempered."
So she sat patiently and watched the rose-petals that every now and then
fluttered down on the wind.
It was well on towards the afternoon, after the Queen had had her
dinner, before he awoke.
"Oh, you're there?" he said. He had made the same remark every day for
the last two years--which made seven hundred and thirty-one times, one
of the years having been leap-year.