At this, the Private Secretary, who had been prostrate with his face upon the ground all this time, arose very quickly.
"Your Majesty," said he, "let me suggest that you neither banish nor behead this good lady. Her husband was a very remarkable man, a dealer in Chemical Substances. It was in this way, as I am assured, that he discovered the means of making a very wonderful dish known as the Waffle, which is considered to be a sovereign cure for what are called the high crimes and misdemeanors of the Royal Stomach."
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"It was not my husband," began the Widow Pickle indignantly; but the Private Secretary, bowing low, stepped in front of her, wriggling his hands behind him very hard.
"Her husband, your Majesty," said he quickly, "was a wonderful man. I have myself seen one of these Waffles, and they are extraordinarily fine to look upon, although I have never eaten one. That is reserved for royalty alone."
"I have eaten them often," exclaimed Zuzu.
"That," said the King, "is not remarkable, my dear, because you evidently are of royal blood. But, madam, tell me where can I get one of these Waffles to eat?"