"May it please your Majesty, it is not the custom of Kings to smoke a pipe while seated upon the throne."
"But it is my custom," answered Cole.
"It is impolite, and—unkingly!" ventured the minister.
"Now, see here, old fellow," replied his Majesty, "I didn't ask to be King of this country; it's all your own doing. All my life I have smoked whenever I wished, and if I can't do as I please here, why, I won't be king—so there!"
"But you must be the King, your Majesty, whether you want to or not. The law says so."
"If that's the case," returned the King, "I can do as I please in other things. So you just run and get me a bowl of punch, there's a good fellow."
The aged minister did not like to be addressed thus, but the King's commands must be obeyed; so, although the court was greatly horrified, he brought the bowl of punch, and the King pushed his crown onto the back of his head and drank heartily, and smacked his lips afterwards.
"That's fine!" he said; "but say—what do you people do to amuse yourselves?"
"Whatever your Majesty commands," answered one of the councilors.
"What! must I amuse you as well as myself? Methinks it is no easy task to be a King if so many things are required of me. But I suppose it is useless to fret, since the law obliges me to reign in this great country against my will. Therefore will I make the best of my misfortune, and propose we have a dance, and forget our cares. Send at once for some fiddlers, and clear the room for our merry-making, and for once in our lives we shall have a jolly good time!"