Yet the king could not help a sigh, which he tried to turn into a cough, saying—
“It is a good thing to be lighthearted, I am sure, whether she be ours or not.”
“It is a bad thing to be lightheaded,” answered the queen, looking with prophetic soul far into the future.
“ ’Tis a good thing to be light-handed,” said the king.
“ ’Tis a bad thing to be light-fingered,” answered the queen.
“ ’Tis a good thing to be light-footed,” said the king.
“ ’Tis a bad thing—” began the queen; but the king interrupted her.
“In fact,” said he, with the tone of one who concludes an argument in which he has had only imaginary opponents, and in which, therefore, he has come off triumphant—“in fact, it is a good thing altogether to be light-bodied.”
“But it is a bad thing altogether to be light-minded,” retorted the queen, who was beginning to lose her temper.
This last answer quite discomfited his Majesty, who turned on his heel, and betook himself to his countinghouse again. But he was not halfway towards it, when the voice of his queen overtook him.
“And it’s a bad thing to be light-haired,” screamed she, determined to have more last words, now that her spirit was roused.
The queen’s hair was black as night; and the king’s had been, and his daughter’s was, golden as morning. But it was not this reflection on his hair that arrested him; it was the double use of the word “light.” For the