"I doubt it," said the Man of the Sun. "Your men of science would have him killed, stuffed, and put in a glass case in a museum."
II.--The Garb of Shame
At this point our conversation was broken off by my keeper. He saw that the company was tired of my talk, which seemed to them mere grunting. So he pulled my rope, and made me dance and caper until the spectators ached with laughter.
Happily, the next morning the Man of the Sun opened my cage and put me on his back and carried me away.
"I have spoken to the King of the Moon," he said; "and he has commanded that you should be taken to his court and examined by his learned doctors."
As my companion went on four feet, he was able to travel as fast as a racehorse, and we soon arrived at another town, where we put up at an inn for dinner. I followed him into a magnificently furnished hall, and a servant asked me what I would begin with.
"Some soup," I replied.
I had scarcely pronounced the words when I smelt a very succulent broth. I rose up to look for the source of this agreeable smell; but my companion stopped me.
"What do you want to walk away for?" said he. "Stay and finish your soup."
"But where is the soup?" I said.