"Oh, my father! I have something to ask of you. Let me speak."
Techo seated himself upon a chair of inlaid wood, and placed her upon his knee.
"Say on, most powerful Princess. What is your will?"
She was too deeply in earnest to smile.
"Concerning the bull-calf," she said breathlessly,—"it is a beautiful calf, black as night, soft as my feast-day dress,—very small. Almost small enough to go to sleep in my kitten's bed. And its eyes are so large, father; as large as that!"
She brought her right thumb and forefinger into a circle.
"Wonderful!" said Techo, laughing.
"Also, he has a white spot on his forehead shaped—so." She stretched out the left forefinger, and brought the right forefinger and thumb against it so that they formed a "V."
"That is strange," said Techo in a new tone. He looked suddenly interested.
