"Oh, certainly!" replied the Prince, politely.
He was extremely anxious not to say anything to make the Wizard angry.
"Well, then," returned the Wizard, "don't pretend that you can't, that's all."
For some time longer the Wizard made tatting in silence; then once again he spoke.
"The reason," he said gravely, "that a horse has no trunk is because it is not an elephant. Can you see the philosophy of that?"
"Yes, your—" "Majesty," the Prince was about to say, in his eagerness to be polite; but he changed his mind just in time, and said courteously, "Yes, your Wizardship."
This appeared to please the Wizard, for he bent his head three times and invited the Prince in to tea. The table was already spread; and seated about it were the old lady Vance had seen herb-gathering, and nine black cats with green eyes, peaked caps, and nice white napkins under their chins. The Wizard placed a chair for the Prince.
"This is my wife," he said, waving his hand toward the tiny old lady. "She is a professional witch. She eats nothing but grasshoppers gathered when the moon is full."
The Wizard here lowered his voice mysteriously and bent toward Vance.
"Economical," he said, "very economical. She hardly costs me a groat a year, except for her high-heeled shoes; those come dear, but she must have them, being a professional witch, you know. Now, as to these cats, how many lives should you guess they had among them, eh?"