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 me that I’ve been parboiled and scoured and curry combed?”

“You do give evidence of having had a bath,” said Jamie. “It’s only the region of your eyes that needs slight attention.”

“Oh, well, then,” said the little Scout, “if you say I need it, I reckon I do. I had so everlastingly much trouble with Mother and the Princess that I thought I never should get started. Women make me dead tired!”

“What’s the matter with the ladies?” inquired Jamie as he led the way to the bathroom, moistened a wash cloth and began operations in order to make sure that they were properly conducted. To his surprise, the youngster stood still and lifted a submissive face, and as Jamie operated, the child continued.

“Oh, Mother is always nagging about cleaning your nails and spooning out your ears and wild hairs in your eyelashes and ingrowing toenails! You’d get to be a burden to yourself if you’d try to pay any attention to all the things that woman wants done. When it comes to the Princess, I’d give my best jack-knife if Dad would fire her.”

“Fire a princess?” said Jamie. “You’re suggesting an unseemly proceeding. A princess is supposed to be treated with a very high degree of consideration.”

The youngster shrugged lean shoulders and sniffed.

“Well, this princess we’ve got in our kitchen hails from some little crossroad in Europe, and she’s used to being waited on herself, and so she knows too darned well how