“He’s not an Ouch,” explained Pompa, who was gradually recovering from the shock of his fall. “He is Kabumpo, an Elegant Elephant, and he blew you out by mistake. Didn’t you, Kabumpo?”
“Purely an accident—nothing intentional, I assure you,” chuckled Kabumpo. He was beginning to enjoy himself. “If there’s any more trouble I’ll blow ’em all out,” he reflected comfortably, “for they’re nothing but great big candles.”
Seeing their King in friendly conversation with the strangers, the other Candlemen came closer—too close for comfort, in fact. They were always leaning over and dropping hot tallow on a body and the heat from their flaming heads was simply suffocating.
“Sing the National Air for them,” said the Candle King carelessly and the Candlemen, in their queer crackling voices, sang the following song, swaying rhythmically to the tune:
“Flicker, flicker, Candlemen,
Cheer our King and cheer again!
Neat as wax and always bright,
Cheer’s the King of candle light!
Kindle lightly—dwindle slightly,
Here we burn both day and nightly,