The kinglet looked at him in astonishment.
"Can that be done?" he asked.
"Certainly, your Majesty. It is only necessary to carve away some of the wood of his nose, and leave a wart."
"I'll do it!" shouted the kinglet, in great delight. And he at once sent for the Royal Carpenter and had the man whittle the Indian's nose until a beautiful wart showed plainly on the very end.
"Good!" said the King.
"Good!" echoed the Indian, proudly. "Now none of those miserable Failings dare say my name is not suitable!"
"I'm very sorry about that cleaver," remarked the kinglet. "You'll have to carry it around wherever you go."
"That's all right. I'll add to my name and call myself Wart-on-the-Nose-and-Cleaver-in-the-Neck. That will be a fine Indian name, and no one can prove it is not correct."