“Well, why didn’t you say so before!” asked the King in exasperation.
“Fine chance I had to say anything!” sniffed Eejabo, wringing out his lace ruffles.
“Eh—rr—you may have the day off, my good man,” said Pompus, with an apologetic cough—“And you also,” with a wave at Hashem. Very stiffly the two walked to the door.
“It’s an off day for us, all right,” said Eejabo ungraciously, and without so much as a bow the two disappeared.
“I fear you were a bit hasty, my love,” murmured Queen Pozy, looking after them with a troubled little frown.
“Well, who wouldn’t be!” cried Pompus, ruffling up his hair. “Here we are liable to disappear any minute and all you do is to stand around and criticize me. Begone!” he puffed angrily, as a page stuck his head in the door.
“No use shouting at people to begone,” said the Elegant Elephant testily. “We’ll all begone soon enough.”
At this Queen Pozy began to weep into her silk handkerchief, which sight so affected Prince Pompadore that he rushed forward and embraced her tenderly.
“I’ll marry!” cried the Prince impulsively. “I’ll do anything! The trouble is there aren’t any Fairy Princesses around here!”
“There must be,” said the King.