We went to the hut. We had supper. We ate and drank heavily. We danced madly around the table. Nevertheless I thought that Spitz and Fritz were worried by the King's potations, and Spitz at last went so far as to remind his Majesty that they were to start early in the morning for Kohlslau. I noticed also that as the King drank his speech grew thicker and Spitz and Fritz exchanged glances. At last Spitz said with stern significance:
"Your Majesty has not forgotten the test invariably submitted to the King at his coronation?"
"Shertenly not," replied the King, with his reckless laugh. "The King mush be able to pronounsh—name of his country—intel-lillil-gibly: mush shay (hic!): 'I'm King of—King of—Tootoo-tooral-looral-anyer.'" He staggered, laughed, and fell under the table.
"He cannot say it!" gasped Fritz and Spitz in one voice. "He is lost!"
"Unless," said Fritz suddenly, pointing at me with a flash of intelligence, "HE can personate him, and say it. Can you?" he turned to me brusquely.
It was an awful moment. I had been drinking heavily too, but I resolved to succeed. "I'm King of Trooly-rooly—" I murmured; but I could not master it—I staggered and followed the King under the table.
"Is there no one here," roared Spitz, "who can shave thish dynasty, and shay 'Tooral—'? No! —— it! I mean 'Trularlooral—'" but he, too, lurched hopelessly forward.
"No one can say 'Tooral-looral—'" muttered Fritz; and, grasping Spitz in despair, they both rolled under the table.
How long we lay there, Heaven knows! I was awakened by Spitz playing the garden hose on me. He was booted and spurred, with Fritz by his side. The King was lying on a bench, saying feebly: "Blesh you, my chillen."
"By politely acceding to Black Michael's request to 'try our one-and-six sherry,' he has been brought to this condition," said Spitz bitterly. "It's a trick to keep him from being crowned. In this country if the King is crowned while drunk, the kingdom instantly reverts to a villain—no matter who. But in this case the villain is Black Michael. Ha! What say you, lad? Shall we frustrate the rascal, by having YOU personate the King?"