Chapter II: The Letter

All day the envelope she scann’d.
But though her royal name it bore,
’Twas in an Unfamiliar Hand.
The Postmark puzzled her still more.
The Princess could not understand
Who’d write to her from----

She turned it Left, she turned it Right,
She pinched it, shook it to and fro,
She held it up against the Light,
And topsy-turvy wise--but no,
It still continued to preserve
Its air of Self-contained Reserve.

One day the Princess in a Pet,
It was her Last, her only hope,
Summoned her Trusty Cabinet,
To Sit upon the Envelope,
And at no matter what expense,
To end her Terrible Suspense.

But all their Learnéd Consultations
Ended in Nought, for what avail
@Mere Man’s@ Unerring Calculations
Where WOMAN’S Intuitions fail?
Their Weighty Brains refused to cope
With that Unyielding Envelope.

She put the matter in the Hands
Of the Police; she went to see
Astrologers from Foreign Lands
And experts in Chirography;
And offered Large Rewards to all
Who furnished Clues, however small.

But no one came for the Reward,
Nor would the Envelope betray
The Secret in its bosom stored,
When by the Merest Chance one day
She overheard a Child, who cried,
“_If it were mine, I’d look inside_.”

Tossing the Tot a Thousand Pounds,
The Princess to her Chamber sped;
Her Joy and Rapture knew no bounds;
She tore the Envelope and read

A note from god-mamma, to say,
_She might expect her any day_.