“But surely there will be a very limited sale,” I said; “there cannot be very many people with blue faces, you know.”
“Oh, of course, you must try and spoil everything with your absurd objections,” said the Cockatoo crossly.
“Yes, I really don’t see that your contention has much weight,” said the Doctor-in-Law. “Provided it is only advertised enough, the public will buy any rubbish, whether it does what it professes to do or not. And we shall simply call it ‘Wallypug’s Blush for the complexion,’ you know; besides, even if it doesn’t answer, we can turn it into something else, Boot Polish or Hair Wash, you know.”
And so seeing them so busily and enthusiastically engaged in the business of drawing up the prospectus, we said good-night and retired to our rooms.
CHAPTER XVI.
“AU REVOIR.”
The next morning all was excitement at the palace. The news of our return had spread abroad, and in the morning copy of the Daily Whyer, which his Majesty found on the breakfast-table when we went down, a full and, I must say, surprisingly accurate account of the interview appeared, together with the information that his Majesty would attend Parliament in state in the afternoon, and that an address from the throne would be read, in which certain changes in the Government would be suggested. There was also a paragraph about A. Fish, Esquire’s, lecture upon the “Unreasonableness of ability,” which the editor advised everybody to try and hear.
His Majesty was in quite a fluster, and we spent several hours in preparing an elaborate written speech which he was to read out in the afternoon; and then, having settled this and other matters to our satisfaction, we took Kis-Smee out for a little walk just before luncheon.