My Own Good

My own good. Ha! If I had a ducat for every time I heard my mother say that… Well, I’d be rich as Croesus but it wouldn’t do me any good, me being stuck in this stinking tower and all.

I learned about Croesus from the book on famous kings that my father gave me. He also gave me a book on the flora and fauna of Austria and a book of fairy tales. Having just finished the book on Austria (it was a bit of a snooze, but don’t tell Daddy that), I’m just starting on the fairy tales. So far my favorite is “Snow-white and the Seven Dwarfs.” I wish I had my own merry troop of dwarfs to keep me company, but all I have is this stupid canary who sings the whole day without stopping.

It’s been a year since I’ve been imprisoned. My mother doesn’t like me putting it that way, but there it is. From time to time, people like to come and stare at me, like I’m some animal in a cage.

One day a man on a horse appeared below my window. He asked me, “Is your hair really a hundred feet in length?”

I replied, “Beats me.”

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