The Greatest Adventure Books for Children. Люси Мод Монтгомери

Poet doesn't dare do his Majesty justice," said the Disagreeable Failing. "If he did, there would soon be no Poet."

      "There's something in that, too," said the kinglet. "But now, Sir Austed, write me a sonnet on my new subject, Sir John Dough."

      The Poet sighed and began writing on his tablets; and presently he read this:

      "The Kinglet of Phreex, it is said,

       Has a Knight made of stale gingerbread;

       We could eat him, but yet

       The dyspepsia we'd get

       Would soon make us wish we were dead."

      "That," said John, indignantly, "is rank libel; and if your Majesty will loan me your sceptre, I'll make an end of this Poet in seven seconds by the clock."

      "You have my permission to make mince-meat of him," replied the kinglet, cheerfully.

      "Mercy! mercy, my lord!" screamed the Poet, falling upon his knees before John and hastily wiping the verse off his tablets, "give me one more chance, I beg of you!"

      "Very well," said the gingerbread knight. "But if it's no better than the last you shall be discharged. Is it not so, your Majesty?"

      "Quite so," laughed the kinglet.

      The Poet nervously scribbled another set of lines, which he read in a voice that trembled with fear:

      "The Gingerbread Man is so sweet,

       To eat him would be a rare treat;

       He's crisp and well spiced,

       And you'd find, were he sliced,

       That the eggs in him cannot be beat!"

      "That's better," said John, "but I'm not sure about the eggs, as I did not pay much attention when I was mixed. However, this sincere tribute to my excellence will save you from my displeasure, and you may go free."

      The Poet did not wait an instant, but ran from the hall as fast as his legs would carry him.

      The kinglet now dismissed the Failings, who left the royal presence quarrelling and threatening one another, and making so much noise and uproar that the gingerbread man was glad to see them go.

      "Aren't they nice?" asked the kinglet, looking after them. "I'd like to drown them all in the castle moat, like kittens; but every kinglet, they say, has his Failings, so I suppose I must keep mine."

      He sighed, and continued: "But what did the Poet's sonnet say about your being crisp and well spiced, and rather good eating were you sliced?"

      "Don't pay any attention to that, your Majesty!" said John, hastily.

      "But why not?" persisted the kinglet. "I declare, Sir John, there's something about you that makes me hungry whenever I look at you. I don't remember having eaten any gingerbread since I was a boy—ahem!—I mean since I came to rule over the Isle of Phreex. Ho there, my guards! Fetch me a knife!"

      John was now trembling with terror; but Chick said to the kinglet: "Your Majesty forgets that you are to have pancakes and maple-syrup for tea. What's the use of spoiling your appetite, when you know the gingerbread man will keep good for weeks?"

      "Are you sure?" asked the kinglet, anxiously. "Are you sure he'll keep? Won't he get stale?"

      "Of course not," answered the child. "He's the kind of gingerbread that always keeps good. And you mustn't forget he'll be a credit to the Isle of Phreex; for whoever saw a live gingerbread man before?"

      "Nobody," declared the kinglet, positively. "You're right, my Cherub; I'll save the gingerbread man for another meal, and in the meantime I can show him off before my people. We pride ourselves, Sir John, on having a greater variety of queer personages than any other kingdom in existence."

      "Then you ought to be careful of them, and not permit them to be eaten," said John, still anxious. But the kinglet did not seem to hear him.

      "Pancakes and maple-syrup!" muttered his Majesty, longingly. "Dear me, Chick; I wish tea were ready now."

      "So do I," said Chick, laughing; for John Dough was safe from being eaten just then, whatever might be his future fate, and the child had saved him by the mention of the cakes and syrup.

      But now a sudden hubbub was heard at the door, and in rushed a number of the royal guard wheeling a big platform on which was seated a woman so exceedingly fat that she appeared to be much wider than she was long.

      "Here! what's the trouble with Bebe Celeste?" asked the kinglet, frowning.

      BÉBÉ CELESTE

      "She has lost two ounces, your Majesty," puffed one of the guards, wiping the perspiration from his forehead with his coat sleeve.

      "Two ounces!" shouted the kinglet. "Now, by the toga of Samson—by the way, Nebbie, did Samson wear a toga?" He punched the fat man so severely that Nebbie gave a roar of pain before he answered.

      "He wore several, your Majesty!"

      "Then, by the several togas of Samson, Bebe Celeste, how dare you come before me two ounces shy?"

      "I didn't come; I was brought," said the fat woman, in a wheezy voice.

      "She was weighed in the balance and found wanting," said the guardsman.

      "What was she wanting?" asked the kinglet.

      "Two ounces, your Majesty."

      The ruler rubbed his pug nose with one finger, in a reflective manner.

      "Bebe," said he, "you've been exercising again. You're trying to reduce!"

      The woman began to cry. "'T ain't my fault, your royal giblet—"

      "Kinglet, woman!" said the fat man, without opening his eyes.

      "Your royal kinglet, I didn't mean to lose a single flutter o' flesh. But my dog Duo got to quarrelling with himself and I got exercised in my mind—"

      "Oh, the loss is in your mind, is it?" interrupted the kinglet. "I wouldn't mind the loss if I had not forbidden you to exercise at all, even in your mind."

      "I couldn't help it, your fudgesty—"

      "Majesty, woman!" said the fat man, sleepily.

      "My dog Duo got to quarrelling—"

      "Bring us the dog, varlets, churls, and vassals!" screeched the kinglet, in his shrill voice.

      The guards stumbled over each other to obey; and presently they returned leading such a curious animal that John Dough stared at it in amazement.

      It was a dog, without doubt; or rather, it was a dog's body with a head and two legs at either end of it. So that when one end walked forward the other end had to walk backward, and that made the back end growl angrily. But the same end was not always the back end of the dog; for first one head, and then the other, would prove strongest, and drag the curious animal forward.

      When this double dog, which was named Duo, was brought in, both heads were snarling and barking in a very noisy manner. But however much enraged they were, they could never get together to do one another mischief.

      "Be silent!" yelled the kinglet, annoyed at the clamor.

      But the dog's heads paid no attention to the command.

      "Very well," said his Majesty; "I'll put a stop to your noise for good and all! Here, you guards, fetch me the Royal Executioner!"

      The fat lady began crying anew at this, and presently the door opened and a young girl entered the hall. She was clothed in simple robes of pure white, over which her loose brown hair flowed in a soft cloud. Her