The King. “Yessir.”
The poor king did his very best, and rushed about most energetically. He managed, like a good waiter, to keep up a considerable fire of chaff. A man having offered him a tip of 2s. 6d., he exclaimed, “Oh, sir, you cannot give a king less than a crown!” To a party who gave him 15s., he objected, “This won’t do, sir; I must have five more.”
“Why?”
“Three crowns is the Pope’s allowance. It takes four to make a real sovereign, sir.”
NO SPEAKING BACK.
But although trying to be as merry and lively as possible, he found it very hard work, and the moment the herald appeared, dropped his napkin, six plates of lamb and salad and eight pewter pots he was carrying, tore off his apron, changed a crown, and picking up his robe of state and his sceptre and ball, gave a royal wave of his hand.
The herald was at once seized and brought forward, and, addressing him, the king said, “What, ho, thou caitiff! say, how hast thou dared so long to keep thy sovereign waiting?”
10 CARRIED FORWARD.