The Prince grinned at his father, who was now quite beside himself with rage.
“You think I’m fat and old, do you!” snorted the King, flinging the gold mirror face down on the table. “This is a nice day, I must say! Scrolls, door knobs, mirrors and insults!”
“But what can P. A. stand for?” mused Queen Pozy thoughtfully.
“Plain enough,” chuckled Kabumpo, maliciously. “It stands for perfectly awful!”
“Who’s perfectly awful?” asked Pompus suspiciously.
“Why, Faleero,” sniffed the Elegant Elephant. “That’s plain enough to everybody!”
“Dip him!” shrieked Pompus. “I’ve had enough of this! Dip him—do you hear?”
“That,” yawned Kabumpo, straightening his silk robe, “is impossible!” And, considering his size it was. But just that minute the Prime Pumper returned and in his interest to hear what the Princess Faleero had said the King forgot about dipping Kabumpo.
The courier from the Princess stepped forward.
“Her Highness,” puffed the Prime Pumper, who had run all the way, “Her Highness accepts Prince Pompadore with pleasure and will marry him to-morrow morning.”