"They would write long letters to the papers entitled 'Should Kings be Flippant?' or 'Should Kings Smile?'" chimed in my companion.
"And the editor would invite his readers to discuss the matter in his columns, thus supplying himself with copy free of charge; one can see in that the work of an immutable providence, decreeing that nothing in the way of effort shall be wasted."
"And what else would you do to lighten the lot of royalty, besides allowing them to sneeze unaided?"
"There are three heads to my next thought, which I will place in the following order--Life, Death, and Love." I am afraid that I paused a little longer than was absolutely necessary after the last word, then I continued, "To be a really good royal person, it is required that Life should be lived according to the rules and regulations appertaining to that station in life. Now, supposing that three great nobles have the right to pull off your stocking when you retire; that is quite excellent in its way, but there are drawbacks, for instance: for three men to pull at one stocking necessitates the possession of big feet by the king, then----"
"Oh, stop, stop, please! These terrible pictures which you conjure up are most upsetting."
"Very well, let us discuss the next head--Death. Again, there, we see the power of the Press; a royal person must always say something suitable as 'Last Words.' That is the only way in which Grand Opera resembles real life, for, in operatic death scenes, the dying person always sings the most difficult note just as the breath leaves the body."
"You are becoming morbid."
"Then I had better close the discourse, for if I become morbid over death, I--but there, I will not bore you."
"Oh, please, do, I am really interested in your views on life."
"You are not a society reporter by any chance, in disguise, are you?"