"Let us hear, gossip; what would you like to be?"
"Like? Well, really, sir, I have never given it a thought. Hm! what I should like to be? But then, could it be now—at once?"
"That depends upon the extent of your wishes; for you might wish to be governor of Visegrád, and in that case the answer would be, 'Hold in your greyhounds' [don't be in too much hurry]."
"I shouldn't care to be governor, to sit here by a good fire keeping myself warm—though, to be sure, it would be well enough sometimes, especially in winter, when one has such fine clothes as mine, which just let the wind in where they should keep it out; but I should like to be something like that stick on the castle clock which is always moving backwards and forwards—something that is always on the move."
"Always on the move!" laughed the king. "Well then, gossip, I'll take you for my courier; and if you like, you need not keep still a moment."
"I don't mind!" said Miska joyously. "Then I will be a courier."
"You will get tired of it, boy. But tell me one thing: do you know anything?"
Miska fixed his large eyes on the king.
"Anything?" he asked, hurt and flushing. "Really, sir, when I come to consider—thunder!—it seems to me as if I knew just nothing at all!"
"Then do you wish to learn?"