The Woggle-Bug took the hint.
"Really," he told the King. "I have never seen a more despicable creature than you. The admirable perspicacity inherent in your tribe seems to have deteriorated in you to a hyperbolated insousancy." Then he reached out his arms and slapped the king four times, twice on one side of his face and twice on the other.
"Thanks, my dear June-Bug," said the monarch; "I now recognize you to be a person of some importance."
"Sire, I am a Woggle-Bug, highly magnified and thoroughly educated. It is no exaggeration to say I am the greatest Woggle-Bug on earth."
"I fully believe it, so pray do not play any more foursomes on my jaw. I am sufficiently humiliated at this moment to recognize you as a Sullivanthauros, should you claim to be a member of that extinct race."
Then two little weasels—a boy weasel and a girl weasel—came into the bower and threw their school-books at the squirrel so cleverly that one hit the King upon the nose and smashed his cigar and the other caught him fairly in the pit of his stomach.
At first the monarch howled a bit; then he wiped the tears from his face and said:
"Ah, what delightful children I have! What do you wish, my darlings?"
"I want a cent for chewing gum," said the Girl Weasel.