86 THE LAND OF PLUCK

But, king or queen, this royal little Wilhelmina of Hol-
land already rules in the hearts of her people. Well may
the boys and girls of our republic follow her career
with interest ;—so bright, winning, and unaffected is she
in her pretty dignity and her earnest patriotic spirit.
Despite her high station, she is a real child, ready for
play and, as a recent writer tells us, “devotedly fond of
dolls.”

On one occasion, it is said, her youthful majesty was
heard addressing a refractory doll as follows: “Now be
good and quiet, because if you don’t I will tun you into
a queen, and then you will not have any one to play
with at all.”

Poor little doll-mother! In the confidence of that
family circle she may say things that she hardly could
utter at court receptions! To some of her dolls, however,
she undoubtedly shows a dignified reserve ; for instance,
to the fifty lately given to her on her fourteenth birthday
by her mother, the queen regent. They are stiff and im-
posing, we may be sure, for they are dressed to represent
soldiers of rank, in order that the little queen may be-
come familiar with, and easily recognize, the different
uniforms of the officers in her Dutch army.

In concluding these simple chapters about the Land
of Pluck, I yield to an impulse to quote—for the benefit
of readers who would like a further familiar word about
the Holland of to-day—some extracts from two personal
letters recently received. The first is from an American