"I won't have it, Mirak," she would say with a stamp of her little foot;
"you shall not break my doll's head just because you want to."
So Prince Akbar, who was full of sound common sense, began to think she
had reason on her side; and this was of great advantage to him, for with
Head-nurse, and Foster-mother and the others, he stood a great chance of
being spoiled.
And after a time he became quite devoted to the prim little maid, who,
for all her primness in general, could be as wild as a hawk on occasion.
And out of that arose an incident which, unfortunately, turned Princess
Sultanum against the little lad and so endangered his safety. It came
about in this way. Prince Askurry's son Yakoob was, as has been said,
three years older than Akbar, a lanky, rather weedy lad-ling of nearly
six. Now Prince Askurry was himself a noted wrestler, and was determined
his son should be one also. So he had the boy carefully taught, and set
a good deal of store by the quickness of the little fellow in learning
the grips, and how to trip up an adversary. On high days and holidays,
indeed, Prince Askurry and his wife used often to amuse themselves by
seeing the discomfiture of other less experienced children who were set
up to compete with the young wrestler. Baby Akbar had been one of these,
and being so much younger, he had always gone down before Yakoob's
skill; but he had always taken his overthrow in good part, though
Head-nurse had felt as if she could not keep her fingers off the victor.
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