They want a King." "A King! We want a King!" repeated the chorus of Roses.
"Isn't she Royal ?" inquired Shaggy, admiring the lovely Princess.
"Of course, for she grows on a Royal Bush.

This Princess is named Ozga, as she is a distant cousin of Ozma of Oz; and, were she but a man, we would joyfully hail her as our Ruler." The Gardener then turned away to talk with his Roses and Betsy whispered to her companion: "Let's pick her, Shaggy." "All right," said he.

"If she's royal, she has the right to rule this Kingdom, and if we pick her she will surely protect us and prevent our being hurt, or driven away." So Betsy and Shaggy each took an arm of the beautiful Rose Princess and a little twist of her feet set her free of the branch upon which she grew.

Very gracefully she stepped down from the bush to the ground, where she bowed low to Betsy and Shaggy and said in a delightfully sweet voice: "I thank you." But at the sound of these words the Gardener and the Roses turned and discovered that the Princess had been picked, and was now alive.

Over every face flashed an expression of resentment and anger, and one of the Roses cried aloud.
"Audacious mortals! What have you done ?" "Picked a Princess for you, that's all," replied Betsy, cheerfully.
"But we won't have her! We want a King!" exclaimed a Jacque Rose, and another added with a voice of scorn: "No girl shall rule over us!" The newly-picked Princess looked from one to another of her rebellious subjects in astonishment.