"Are all your doctors sharks?" asked the child.
"Yes, aren't your doctors sharks?" he replied.
"Not all of them," said Trot.
"That is true," remarked Cap'n Bill. "But when you talk of lawyers—"
"I'm not talking of lawyers," said Anko reprovingly. "I'm talking about my pain. I don't imagine anyone could suffer more than I did with that stomach ache."
"Did you suffer long?" inquired Trot.
"Why, about seven thousand four hundred and eighty-two feet and—"
"I mean a long time."
"It seemed like a long time," answered the King. "Dr. Shark said I ought to put a mustard poultice on my stomach, so I uncoiled myself and summoned my servants, and they began putting on the mustard plaster. It had to be bound all around me so it wouldn't slip off, and I began to look like an express package. In about four weeks fully one-half of the pain had been covered by the mustard poultice, which got so hot that it hurt me worse than the stomach ache did."
"I know," said Trot. "I had one, once."