Ah, nursie, you don't know what a beautiful mother of grandmothers I've got upstairs.

She is such an old lady, with such lovely white hair--as white as my silver cup.

Now, when I think of it, I think her hair must be silver.' 'What nonsense you are talking, princess!' said the nurse.
'I'm not talking nonsense,' returned Irene, rather offended.

'I will tell you all about her.

She's much taller than you, and much prettier.' 'Oh, I dare say!' remarked the nurse.
'And she lives upon pigeons' eggs.' 'Most likely,' said the nurse.
'And she sits in an empty room, spin-spinning all day long.' 'Not a doubt of it,' said the nurse.
'And she keeps her crown in her bedroom.' 'Of course--quite the proper place to keep her crown in.