Father and Laddie and some of us had wavy hair, but hers was crisp--and it clung to your fingers, and wrapped around them and seemed to tug at your heart like it does when a baby grips you.

I drew away my hand, and the hair stretched out until it was long as any of ours, and then curled up again, and you could see that no tins had stabbed into her head to make those curls.

I began trying to single out one hair.
"What are you doing ?" she asked.
"I want to know if only one hair is strong enough to draw a drowning man from the water or strangle an unhappy one," I said.
"Believe me, no!" cried the Princess.

"It would take all I have, woven into a rope, to do that." "Laddie knows curls that just one hair of them is strong enough," I boasted.
"I wonder now!" said the Princess.

"I think he must have been making poetry or telling Fairy tales." "He was telling the truth," I assured her.