“Oh, bother your explanations!” cried the king. “Show us its power, and then we shall understand.”
“But perhaps the showing would not please your Majesty,” said Philip.
“Stuff and nonsense!” the king exclaimed. “I said, ‘Show us.’ Who is king here—you or me? It is my business to command, and it is yours to obey.”
“Very well,” responded Philip, “then I wish you to scatter;” and he blew a good strong blast into the little end of his horn.
At once the king, very much against his will, and kicking savagely, was hurried off north, the queen flew east, and the princess west, and a little kitchen-maid, who had come up behind Philip and was looking on, was hustled off south in such sudden haste it seemed to her she would be scared out of a year’s growth.
“Stop me, you rascal! Bring me back!” yelled the king as he vanished in the distance.
Philip turned the horn about and blew into the big end. In a few moments the king and the others were back on the porch; and the little maid, vastly astonished by her experiences, lost no time in escaping to the kitchen. “What do you mean by treating me in that fashion?” the king demanded. “You shall hang for it.”
Philip raised the little end of the horn to his lips, and the king, fearful that he would have to repeat his wild race, called out: “Enough! enough! The fault was mine. You shall have my daughter and half the kingdom if only you won’t blow that horrible horn in my presence. I’m too old and stiff to be dashing about over the country as I did just now.”
So as soon as things could be made ready for a grand wedding, Philip married the princess, and they lived happily the rest of their days.