"Don't you like the seasoning?" snickered the Funny Man. "Now, come, that's too bad, when I thought 'twould be just to your liking!"
Too angry to speak, the Prince snatched a glass of water and drank, only to find it scalding hot and full of salt.
"Try a bit of venison pasty," urged his host, pleasantly. "No more fooling, on my word!"
"?opiH, enola dlihc roop eht tel uoy t'nac yhW" asked the wife, who seemed to be as kind-hearted as could be expected of one so twisted.
The Prince, however, had already tasted of the pasty, which proved hotter than fire with red pepper. So it was with everything on the table. Nothing was fit to eat. The ragout was full of pins and needles, the wine was drugged with nauseous herbs, the cakes were stuffed with cotton; and the Prince cracked his teeth instead of the almonds, which were cleverly made out of stone.
All this nonsense was very bitter to the hungry Prince, as you may suppose; but as for the Funny Man, he was quite wild with delight. He rolled over and over on the floor, and the tears of joy streamed down his cheeks at the success of his jokes.
"This is the best fun I've had for months," he cried. "This is joy! This is true happiness!"
"A very poor sort of happiness," the Prince said ruefully. "I think I will go to bed."
Alas! here things were just as bad. As the Prince entered his chamber a bucket of ice-cold water, balanced above, fell down and drenched him to the skin. His bed was full of eels and frogs; and when the poor boy tried to get a nap in a chair a tame owl and a pair of pet bats flapped their wings in his face and tweaked his nose and ears. At the earliest peep of dawn the tortured Prince shouldered his box and left his chamber.
Sitting on the balustrade, whittling, was the host.