In the cold, cold parlor br my mother laid out Arthur br beneath the chromographs: br Edward, Prince of Wales, br with Princess Alexandra, br and King George with Queen Mary. br Below them on the table br stood a stuffed loon br shot and stuffed by Uncle br Arthur, Arthur's father. br br Since Uncle Arthur fired br a bullet into him, br he hadn't said a word. br He kept his own counsel br on his white, frozen lake, br the marble-topped table. br His breast was deep and white, br cold and caressable; br his eyes were red glass, br much to be desired. br br "Come," said my mother, br "Come and say good-bye br to your little cousin Arthur." br I was lifted up and given br one lily of the valley br to put in Arthur's hand. br Arthur's coffin was br a little frosted cake, br and the red-eyed loon eyed it br from his white, frozen lake. br br Arthur was very small. br He was all white, like a doll br that hadn't been painted yet. br Jack Frost had started to paint him br the way he always painted br the Maple Leaf (Forever). br He had just begun on his hair, br a few red strokes, and then br Jack Frost had dropped the brush br and left him white, forever. br br The gracious royal couples br were warm in red and ermine; br their feet were well wrapped up br in the ladies' ermine trains. br They invited Arthur to be br the smallest page at court.