Next day on parade, there was the whole regiment shaved to a man.
"What's the meaning of this?" asked the General.
The Sergeant saluted, and told him that St. Anthony was dead.
"Is he? By Jove," said the General, "then I dismiss this parade," and off he galloped on his war-horse to the nearest Barber, who shaved his head like the men's. On the way back, he saw the Prime Minister going to Court. "May I ask," said the Prime Minister suavely, "to what untoward circumstance is due the erasure of your capillary covering?"
"St. Anthony is dead," answered the General.
"Dear, dear," said the Prime Minister, "you don't say so. He was doubtless an ornament to the party, and it is meet that I should testify my respect." Then the Prime Minister too went off to get his head shaved, and appeared before the King without a single hair.
"What's the matter?" asked the King; "anybody dead, hey, hey, hey?"
"If it please your Majesty," said the Prime Minister, "St. Anthony is dead."
"What a loss for our kingdom," said the King; "what a loss! what a loss! Excuse me a moment," and away he went to get his head shaved.
When the Queen saw him, she wanted to know why his head was shaved.