On our way we passed in front of the shop of a blacksmith, who was fitting a pair of carpet slippers to a tender-footed horse. Suddenly I said to my travelling companion, “I have had quite enough of this ‘Happy Island,’ let us continue our voyage.”
IX. PENGUIN ISLAND.
Two days later we reached Penguin Island. “What does that mean?” I said, on perceiving some two hundred individuals of my kind ranged as if in battle-array along the shore. “Are these troops intended to do us honour, or to prevent our landing?”
“Fear nothing,” said my friend, “these Penguins are our friends. It is the custom of their country to parade the shores in flocks.”
We were received with much kindness, and conducted with great ceremony towards an old Sphemiscus, the King of the island. This good King was seated on a stone, which served as a throne, and surrounded by his subjects, who seemed to be all known to him.
“Illustrious strangers,” he exclaimed, as soon as he perceived us approaching, “we are delighted to make your acquaintance,” and as the crowd around him barred our way, he continued: “My children, range yourselves on one side, and allow the strangers to pass.” The ladies stood on his right, and the gentlemen on his left. “You, sirs, are welcome to enjoy the freedom of our kingdom.”
I ventured to say, “Sire, your renown is the talk of the whole world, and the hope of seeing you alone sustained us through the perils of our journey.”
“Good!” whispered my friend; “you are a courtly liar for one so young; but be careful, else you may die a diplomatist.”
My speech so pleased the King, that he cast off his Phrygian cap, descended from his perch, and clasped me to his breast, saying, “You are, for one so young, a bird most fair and honest. Remain with me to aid me in my old age.”