And here is a roll, sirs,
So fill up your bowl, sirs,
And think of me after you’ve dined.”
When he came to “dined,” the Soup King gave a playful leap and disappeared backward into the waves.
Pompa rubbed his eyes and looked at Kabumpo to see whether he had been dreaming.
“Oh!” cried Kabumpo, his eyes as round as little saucers. Floating gently toward them were two large, crisp, buttered rolls.
“The most charming King I’ve ever met,” chuckled Kabumpo, scooping up the rolls and handing them to Pompa.
Pompa, staring dreamily ahead, first took a drink of soup, then a nibble of roll, too happy for speech. Four times the Elegant Elephant refilled the bowl. Then, his stomach full for the first time since they had left Pumperdink, the Prince stretched himself out on the sands.
“Now,” puffed the Elegant Elephant ceremoniously, “if you think you’ve had quite enough, I’ll snatch a few bites myself.” Chuckling softly he made his way back to some young trees, and dined luxuriously off their tops.
When he returned to the beach, Pompa was fast asleep, and for a few moments Kabumpo was inclined to sleep himself. “But then,” he reflected, “Ozma may require a lot of coaxing before she consents to marry Pompa, and two of our precious seven days are gone. It is plainly my duty to save Pumperdink. Besides, when Pompa is married he will be King of Oz! Then I, the Elegant Elephant, will be the biggest figure at Court.”