“Grander, perhaps,” sighed the corn-cob doll, “but a great deal more of a nuisance.  However—­”

Just then the pop of a toy cannon interrupted the Queen’s speech.  They had driven back almost to the palace, and could see a crowd of common dolls of all kinds and sizes gathering on the green in front of the gilded gates.  At the same moment a troop of soldiers, headed by the little tin captain, came running from the direction of the town evidently with the intention of putting a stop to the disturbance.

“The revolution,” said the Queen calmly, “just as I expected.  Now I am afraid I shall have to send you out of town.”

“But why?” Rudolf began in his arguing voice.  “We don’t want to go.  We want to stay and fight on your side, and I’m sure we’d be very useful!  Why I’d just as lief command your army as not, and—­”

“Thank you very much,” said the Corn-cob Queen, “but what would Captain Jinks say to that?  He is in command, you know.  And if he should fail me, why the Commander-in-Chief will soon be back from capturing the cat pirates.”

“Who is this fellow you call the Commander-in-Chief, anyway?” Rudolf interrupted crossly.

The Queen looked him straight in the eye.  “I hope,” she said, “that you may all be allowed to see him some day, if you are good.  He is a great soldier.  He never sulks, and always obeys without asking questions.  That is more than some little boys do.”  Rudolf hung his head, and the Queen added hastily:  “But now I see that Captain Jinks and the baker are going to hold a conference.  I must go and join them.  Your coachman will drive you out of town the back way.  Now where would you like to go?”

“Back to our Aunt Jane, please,” said Ann quickly.  “Can you tell us the way?”

“No,” said the Queen, “I mustn’t, but I have a friend who is a dream-keeper just over the border, and I think he may be able to help you.  I’ll tell the coachman to drive you there.  Now good-by!”

“Good-by, good-by!” called the children.  The coachman touched up the horses, they were whirled away in a cloud of dust through which they looked back regretfully at the queenly figure on the little wooden horse who waved her hand again and again in kindly farewell.  They saw her joined by Captain Jinks and by a stout person in a white cap and apron who handed the Queen what seemed to be some kind of document printed upon a large sheet of pie crust.

“That was the Baker, I guess,” said Rudolf, “and I dare say what he was handing her was the declaration of war!  Oh, what a shame it is we are going to miss all the fun!”

“And the refreshments,” sighed Peter.  “We always do!  I never did taste a declarashun of war, but it looked awful good.  The very next time I see one, I’m going to—­”