"That's he," answered Jack, pointing to the old man. "The Lord High Master of the Lime Lights is sick in bed with a warm in his head, and the King is attending to things himself;" then aloud, "Hello, King!"
"Good midnight," answered the King, without turning around.
"I want you to meet my friend," said Jack Frost.
"Where do you want me to meet him?" asked the King; "don't make it very far away, because I can't trust the machine to anyone else."
"He is here," said Jack.
"Me feyther," cried she, in a tragic voice, "the light, the light."—Page 187.
"Oh! well then, I'll meet him half way," and jumping quickly up, the King ran to Billy, shook his hand, murmured, "How de do," and trotted back to his machine.
"Glad to know you, King," said Billy.