Majesty

“Their heads are gone, if it please your Majesty!” the soldiers shouted in reply.

“A fine day, your Majesty!” the Duchess began in a low, weak voice.

“I beg pardon, your Majesty,” he began, “for bringing these in: but I hadn’t quite finished my tea when I was sent for.”

“I’m a poor man, your Majesty,” the Hatter began, in a trembling voice, “—and I hadn’t begun my tea—not above a week or so—and what with the bread-and-butter getting so thin—and the twinkling of the tea—”