It was, indeed, a peculiar country, very different from ours—­so different, that my reader must not be too much surprised when I add the amazing fact, that most of its inhabitants, instead of enjoying the things they had, were always wanting the things they had not, often even the things it was least likely they ever could have.  The grown men and women being like this, there is no reason to be further astonished that the Princess Rosamond—­the name her parents gave her because it means Rose of the World—­should grow up like them, wanting every thing she could and every thing she couldn’t have.  The things she could have were a great many too many, for her foolish parents always gave her what they could; but still there remained a few things they couldn’t give her, for they were only a common king and queen.  They could and did give her a lighted candle when she cried for it, and managed by much care that she should not burn her fingers or set her frock on fire; but when she cried for the moon, that they could not give her.  They did the worst thing possible, instead, however; for they pretended to do what they could not.  They got her a thin disc of brilliantly polished silver, as near the size of the moon as they could agree upon; and, for a time she was delighted.

But, unfortunately, one evening she made the discovery that her moon was a little peculiar, inasmuch as she could not shine in the dark.  Her nurse happened to snuff out the candles as she was playing with it; and instantly came a shriek of rage, for her moon had vanished.  Presently, through the opening of the curtains, she caught sight of the real moon, far away in the sky, and shining quite calmly, as if she had been there all the time; and her rage increased to such a degree that if it had not passed off in a fit, I do not know what might have come of it.

As she grew up it was still the same, with this difference, that not only must she have every thing, but she got tired of every thing almost as soon as she had it.  There was an accumulation of things in her nursery and schoolroom and bedroom that was perfectly appalling.  Her mother’s wardrobes were almost useless to her, so packed were they with things of which she never took any notice.  When she was five years old, they gave her a splendid gold repeater, so close set with diamonds and rubies, that the back was just one crust of gems.  In one of her little tempers, as they called her hideously ugly rages, she dashed it against the back of the chimney, after which it never gave a single tick; and some of the diamonds went to the ash-pit.  As she grew older still, she became fond of animals, not in a way that brought them much pleasure, or herself much satisfaction.  When angry, she would beat them, and try to pull them to pieces, and as soon as she became a little used to them, would neglect them altogether.  Then, if they could, they would run away, and she was furious.  Some white mice, which she had ceased feeding altogether,