John Dough and the Cherub

by L. Frank Baum

  Chick, the Cherub

  The rocket continued to send out fiery sparks of burning powder as itplunged higher and higher into the black vault of the heavens; but fewof these came in contact with John Dough, who clung to the far sideof the stick and so escaped being seriously damaged. Also the rocketcurved, and presently sped miles away over land and sea, impelled bythe terrible force of the powder it contained. John fully expected thatit would burst presently, and blow him to bits amid a cloud of coloredstars. But the giant rocket was not made in the same way as the otherand smaller ones that had been fired, the intention being merely tomake it go as high and as far as possible. So it finally burned itselfout; but so great was the speed it had attained that it continued tofly for many minutes after the last spark had died away.

  Then the rocket began to take a downward course; but it was so highup, by that time, that the stick and the empty shell flew onward hourafter hour, gradually nearing the ground, until finally, just as anew day began to break, the huge stick, with John Dough still holdingfast to its end, fell lightly upon an island washed on all sides by thewaves of a mighty sea.

  John fell on a soft bush, and thence bounded to the ground, where for atime he lay quite still and tried to recover his thoughts.

  He had not done much thinking, it seems, while he was in the air. Therush of wind past his ears had dazed him, and he only realized he mustcling fast to the stick and await what might happen. Indeed, that wasthe only thing to be done in such an emergency.

  The shock of the fall had for a moment dazed the gingerbread man; andas he lay upon the ground he heard a voice cry:

  "Get off from me! Will you? Get off, I say."

  John rolled over and sat up, and then another person--a little manwith a large head--also sat up and faced him.

  "What do you mean by it?" asked the little man, glaring upon John Doughangrily. "Can't you see where you're falling?"

  "No," answered John.

  It was growing lighter every minute, and the gray mists of morning werefading away before the rising sun. John looked around him and saw hewas upon a broad, sandy beach which the waves of a great sea lappedpeacefully. Behind was a green meadow, and then mountains that rosehigh into the air.

  "How did you happen to be where I fell?" he asked, turning to thelittle man again.

  "I always sleep on the sands," replied the other, wagging his headsolemnly. "It's my fad. Fresh air, you know. I'm called the 'Fresh-AirFiend.' I suppose you're a new inhabitant. You seem rather queer."

  "I'm made of gingerbread," said John.

  "Well, that certainly is unusual, so I've no doubt you will be warmlywelcomed in our Island," replied the man.

  "But where am I?" asked John, looking around again with a puzzledexpression.

  "This is the Isle of Phreex," answered the other, "and it is inhabitedby unusual people. I'm one, and you're another."

  He made such a droll face as he said this that the gingerbread mancould not resist smiling, but it startled him to hear another laughat his back--a sound merry and sweet, such as a bird trills. He swungaround quickly and saw a child standing upon the sands, where the raysof the sun fell brightly upon its little form. And then the glass eyesof the gingerbread man grew big, and stood out from his cake face in away that fully expressed his astonishment.

  "It's a Vision!" he exclaimed.

  "No, it's the Cherub--whom we call Chick," answered the big-headed man,carelessly.

  The child had fair hair, falling in fleecy waves to its shoulders,but more or less tangled and neglected. It had delicate features,rosy cheeks, and round blue eyes. When these eyes were grave--whichwas seldom--there were questions in them; when they smiled--which wasoften--sunbeams rippled over their blue surfaces. For clothing thechild wore garments of pure white, which reached from the neck tothe ankles, and had wide flowing sleeves and legs, like those of ayoungster's pajamas. The little one's head and feet were bare, butthe pink soles were protected by sandals fastened with straps acrossthe toes and ankles.

  "IT'S THE CHERUB"]

  "Good morning," said John, again smiling and hoping he had not staredtoo rudely. "It gives me great pleasure to meet you."

  "My name's Chick," replied the child, laughing in sweet trills, whilethe blue eyes regarded the gingerbread man with evident wonder.

  "That's a funny name," said John.

  "Yes, it _is_ funny," the child agreed, with a friendly nod. "Chickmeans a chicken, you know. But I'm not a chicken."

  "Of course not," returned John. "A chicken is covered with feathers.And you are not."

  At this Chick laughed merrily, and said, as if it were the simplestthing in the world: "I'm the Incubator Baby, you know."

  "Dear me, I hadn't the least idea of it," John answered gravely. "May Iask what an Incubator Baby is?"

  The child squatted down in the sand, hugged its chubby knees, anduttered peal after peal of joyous laughter.

  "How funny!" it gurgled; "how funny that you don't know what theIncubator Baby is! Really, you must be fresh-baked!"

  "I am," said John, feeling rather ashamed to acknowledge the fact, butresolving to be truthful.

  "Then, of course, you are very ignorant," remarked the Fresh-Air Fiend,rubbing his big head complacently.

  "Oh, as for that," said John, "I acquired, in course of manufacture, avast deal of ancient learning, which I got from an Arabian Elixir withwhich the baker mixed me. I am well posted in all events down to thelast century, but I cannot recall any knowledge of an Incubator Baby."

  "No, they're a recent invention," declared the big-headed man, pattingtenderly the child's golden curls. "Were you, by any chance, at thePan-American Exposition? Or the Louisiana Purchase Exposition?"

  "No," answered John. "My knowledge was corked up about then."

  "Well," continued the man, "there were a good many Incubator Babies atboth those expositions, and lots of people saw them. But Chick is thefirst and only Original Incubator Baby, and so Chick properly belongsin the Isle of Phreex."

  Chick jumped up, made a stiff bow, and with eyes sparkling withmischief exclaimed: "I'm six years old and quite strong and well."

  "Tut-tut, Chick!" remonstrated the big-headed man; "it was more thantwo years ago you were taught to make that speech. You can't be alwayssix years old, you know."

  The little sprite enjoyed the joke so much that John was forced tolaugh in sympathy. But just then a thought struck him, and he asked, alittle nervously:

  "Do you like gingerbread?"

  "I don't know," replied Chick. "Are you gingerbread?"

  "I am," said John, bravely.

  "Then I like gingerbread," the child declared; "for you smell sweet andlook kind and gentle."

  John didn't know whether to accept this as a compliment or not. He wassorry to learn that he smelled sweet, although to be called kind andgentle was grateful praise.

  "Some folks," he remarked, timidly, "have an idea they like to _eat_gingerbread."

  "I couldn't eat you," the child said, seriously, "because, being theIncubator Baby, I have to be very careful of my diet. You might notagree with me."

  "I'm sure I couldn't agree with any one who ate me," John declared."For, although as yet I have had no experience of that sort, it seemsto me a very undesirable fate."

  "Very true," remarked the big-headed man.

  "Let's be friends!" exclaimed Chick, coming close to John and takinghis soft brown hand in a firm clasp. "I'll take care of you."

  John looked down at the merry little elf in positive wonder.

  "We'll be friends, all right," said he; "but instead of your takingcare of me, Chick, I'll take care of you."

  "Oh, there you are entirely wrong," broke in the big-headed man."Chick's a privileged character in the Isle of Phreex, and the only oneof us who dares defy our awful kinglet. And in case of danger--"

  "Danger!" cried John, with a start. "Is there danger here, too?"

  Chick's laughter rang out at the foolish question, b
ut the man repliedseriously:

  "There is danger everywhere, to those who are unusual, and especiallyin the Isle of Phreex, where we are at the mercy of a horrid kinglet.But come; we must go and report your arrival to that same gracelessruler, or we shall all be punished."

  "Very well," said John, meekly.

  But as he took Chick's hand and turned to depart the Fresh-Air Fienduttered an exclamation of annoyance, and said:

  "Here's bad luck already! The Failings are coming this way."

  As he spoke a noise of shouting and chattering reached their ears, andpresently several people came around a corner of rock and stood beforeJohn and his newly found friends.

  "It's the Brotherhood of Failings," whispered the big-headed man. "Lookout for them, or they'll do you a mischief."

  "Don't worry; I'll take care of you," said Chick, pressing the doughhand.

  John stared at the new-comers, and they returned the compliment bystaring at him. A queerer lot of folks could seldom have been seentogether.

  THE BROTHERHOOD OF FAILINGS]

  "This is the Blunderer," said the Fresh-Air Fiend, indicating a short,fat man who was clothed in glittering armor and bore a lance over hisshoulder. The Blunderer acknowledged the introduction by bowing. "Andhere is the Thoughtless One," continued the man, pointing to a tall,lean man who was clothed in chamois-leather and carried a wide-mouthedblunderbuss under his arm.

  "Look out for the gun," said Chick; "he never knows whether or not itis loaded."

  "And here are the Disagreeable, and the Unlucky, and the Sorrowful, andthe Ugly, and the Awkward," continued the big-headed man, pointing outeach Failing in turn. "Their peculiarities you will have no troubleto discover. Indeed, on all the Isle of Phreex, there is no one moreunpleasant to meet with than this same lot of Failings."

  At this the Brothers all bowed, saying at the same time:

  "We are proud of ourselves!"

  At that instant the Awkward tripped over his own toes and fell againstthe Blunderer, who tumbled headlong and thrust his slim lance straightthrough the body of John Dough.

  "Oh!" cried Chick, greatly horrified.

  "I told you so!" growled the Fresh-Air Fiend, pulling out the lancehastily. "Tell me, John Dough, are you dead, or are you just dying?"

  "Neither one," said John, ruefully pushing together the hole thatthe lance had made; "but it doesn't add to my personal appearance tobe prodded in that fashion. I'm made of gingerbread," he explained,turning to the man in armor.

  "I beg your pardon! I really beg your pardon!" said the Blunderer,greatly distressed at what he had done. "I had no intention of hurtingyou."

  "He means well," said the Incubator Baby; "but that doesn't help much."

  "He won't last long in this Island," grunted the Bad-Tempered,referring to John Dough.

  "Being made of gingerbread, he can't be expected to last," remarked theDisagreeable, smiling in a way that made John shudder.

  "He shall have my protection," said the Blunderer. "It's the least Ican do to make amends. Here--put on this armour!"

  He hastily began stripping off the plates of metal, and placed thesteel helmet over the head of the gingerbread man.

  "No, no!" exclaimed John. "I don't want to wear all that hardware."

  "But you must!" cried the Blunderer. "It's the only way you can escapeaccident in this awful Island."

  "That's true enough," agreed the big-headed man. "I advise you to wearthe armor, my gingerbread friend."

  So John submitted to being dressed in the armor, and no sooner had theplates been strapped upon him than the wisdom of the act was apparent.For there came a rush and whirl of sound, and suddenly a great monsterswept over the sands at the very spot where they stood. It sent theBrotherhood of Failings sprawling in every direction, while theIncubator Baby flew to the water's edge, and John Dough's armor-cladbody was knocked down and pressed into the soft sand until it was levelwith the surface.

  But presently Chick came back and made the others dig him out and sethim upon his feet again, and then it was seen that no one had beenseriously injured.

  "What was it?" asked John, gazing in amazement at the place where themonster had disappeared in the distance.

  "It's the one-wheeled automobile," answered the Sorrowful, "and unlessit gets smashed mighty soon the Isle of Phreex will be an Isle ofCripples. I don't understand why they license the thing."

  "Why, to make room for new arrivals, of course," declared theDisagreeable. "But it was lucky for the Pudding Man that he happened tobe dressed in steel."

  "I am not pudding, if you please," said John, indignantly. "I beg youto remember that I am gingerbread."

  "It's all one," remarked the Thoughtless, "your cake is dough, anyhow."

  "Let us return to the castle," the Ugly said. "Our kinglet should beintroduced to his new subject."

  So they all started off across the green, Chick leading the gingerbreadman, until they came to a path leading upward through the rocks, alongwhich they began to ascend. John had much difficulty in keeping out ofthe way of the Awkward, who tripped and stumbled constantly, while theBlunderer insisted upon taking the wrong path, and the Bad-Temperedstopped twice to fight with the Disagreeable and the Thoughtless. Atlast, however, they reached the top, which proved to be a broad plainof rock, upon which stood a great castle with many tall spires and grimtowers and glittering minarets.

  While they paused for John Dough to admire the view, and that they allmight get breath, a sharp voice said near them:

  "You're late, you lot of Failings, and the kinglet will scold."

  John looked around, and saw perched upon a point of rock beside thepath a most curious looking creature.

  "Don't stare!" it said, with a laugh. "_I_ don't, and I've got a dozeneyes to your one. Let me introduce myself. I'm the Prize Potato fromthe Centerville Fair."

  Indeed, John now noticed a big blue ribbon twined around the middleof the potato, and on the ribbon was printed in gold letters: "FirstPrize."

  "Some day you'll sprout," said the Disagreeable, "and then you won'thave so many eyes."

  THE CASTLE OF PHREEX]

  The Prize Potato winked its numerous eyes, one after the other, in adroll fashion, and answered:

  "Some day you'll meet with an accident, my dear Failing; but whenyou're planted in the ground you'll not sprout at all. That's where I'myour superior, for I'm perpetual. Every one of my eyes is good for ahalf-peck of potatoes, at least."

  "Unless you're boiled with your jacket on," remarked the Ugly, with asour smile.

  "Come, come! Let us on," interrupted the little man with the big head."Our kinglet doubtless awaits us."

  When they had gone a few steps farther the Incubator Baby paused tosay: "Some one is following us, and it's a stranger."

  This remark caused John to look around, and immediately he stoppedshort with an expression of horror upon his frosted face. For there,turning the corner of the rocky path, was Ali Dubh the Arab. The fellowat once uttered a yell of joy and triumph, and drawing his gleamingknife he rushed upon John Dough with great eagerness.

  The gingerbread man had given up all hope of escape and stoodtremblingly awaiting his foe when, Chick suddenly grasped theBlunderer's lance and tripped the Arab so neatly with it that Ali Dubhfell his full length upon the path and broke his knife-blade into adozen pieces. But he squirmed forward and was about to bite into John'sleg when the big-headed man came to the rescue and threw a handful ofpebbles into the Arab's open mouth, and so prevented him from doing thegingerbread man any damage.

  "He seems dangerous," remarked the Blunderer. "Let's tie him up, beforehe hurts someone."

  So while the Arab was coughing the pebbles out of his mouth, theBrotherhood of Failings bound his hands and feet with strong cords, sothat he could not move.

  "He's mine!" shouted the Arab, as soon as he could speak. "He belongsto me. I claim him for my own."

  "There's no harm in that," replied the Fresh-Air Fiend. "But one of thelaws of this
Isle is that no person shall be injured by any one exceptthe kinglet. And every one here must obey the laws. So, unless youpromise not to carve or to eat this man of gingerbread, who is now asubject of our kinglet, we must lock you up in prison."

  "I'll eat him as soon as I have the chance. I have a right to do so,"cried the Arab.

  "You're a bad man!" said Chick, stamping one small foot indignantly.

  "I'm not," answered Ali Dubh; "I'm a good man. And I paid JulesGrogrande fifty cents for this gingerbread imitation of a man, who ismixed with my own magic Elixir. Also I paid a witch nine dollars totransport me to wherever the gingerbread man might be--which is righthere--that I might take possession of my own property. So I've got him,and he's paid for, and he's mine, and I claim the right to eat himwhenever I please."

  "You'll do no such thing," declared Chick. "Why, John Dough is alive,and no one has a right to make him dead and then eat him--even if he_is_ paid for!"

  "Don't worry, my Cherub," said the big-headed man, soothingly; "we'llgo at once and lock this Arab in a strong room of the castle, so thathe can't possibly escape."

  Chick smiled sweetly at this promise; but the Arab scowled and said,grimly:

  "Never mind. My time will come. Some day I shall surely eat thatgingerbread man, in spite of this Cherub and all the rest of you."

  This defiance made the Brotherhood of Failings and the big-headed manso angry that they at once dragged Ali Dubh away to the castle, andJohn Dough and Chick followed after, hand in hand, and feeling quitesafe.

  Presently they came to a great archway that led into the courtyardof the castle. Having passed through this arch, the gingerbreadman saw groups of the most astonishing people, who were busyingthemselves over extraordinary tasks, such as building machines, boilingstrange-smelling chemicals in queer pots, drawing curious designs,and like occupations. A sudden crash announced that the Blunderer hadfallen into the middle of a delicate machine and smashed it into bits.Before they could pull him out the Unlucky One ran against the whirlingarm of a windmill and was tossed half-way across the courtyard, whilethe Awkward One upset a boiling kettle and set every one to coughingwho inhaled the odor of the compound that was spilled upon the ground.

  To John's surprise no one seemed much worried over these accidents.Even the victims joined in Chick's merry laughter, and those of theFailings who had escaped disaster calmly proceeded to lock up the Arabin a cell that had a strong iron grating for a door, and fastened witha huge padlock.

  Afterward they all entered through a second arch into the great hall ofthe castle.

  This was a long, wide room with a tiled floor, and walls that werecovered with many trophies, such as armor, spears, battle-axes, andswords of ancient design.

  At the farther end was a raised platform upon which stood a gorgeousthrone. Back of the throne was an electric sign, flashing one letter ata time, and reading: "What is Home without a kinglet?" Over the thronewas suspended an enormous crown--big enough for a giant--which sparkledwith gems. Beside the throne a very fat man sat in a chair so low thathis knees nearly touched his chin. He wore a short red coat, a widewhite vest, and blue knee-breeches, and all were embroidered in gold.The fat man's eyes were closed and he seemed asleep.

  Within the throne sat the kinglet, propped upon purple cushions, sothat he would fit it better. For the kinglet was a small boy with along, freckled face, blue eyes, a pug nose, and black hair bangedacross his forehead, and hanging in lank, straight locks far down overhis shoulders. He wore an ermine cloak lined with purple, and borein his hand a sceptre with a jewelled ball at one end, while beyondthe ball projected a small golden knob. The kinglet's slim legs werecrossed under him like those of a Turk, and he seemed very frail anddelicate.

  However, when the Failings and the Fresh-Air Fiend and Chick and JohnDough entered, the kinglet's brow was puckered into a frown, and hisblue eyes fairly flashed fire.

  "Odds Zooks!" he cried, as they all knelt before the throne, "why haveyou dared to wait until this hour to pay me your devoirs?"

  Then he leaned down and prodded the fat man with the knob of hissceptre, so that the sleeper started and opened his eyes. "Is thatright, Nebbie? Is 'devoir' a kingly word?" he demanded.

  "Absolutely kingly, your Majesty," said the fat man, yawning. "It wasused by King Arthur and Richard Coeur de Leon."

  "Very well!" said the kinglet, proudly. Then he turned again to thekneeling group before him. "Why don't you answer me?" he exclaimed."Why are you so late in paying me your boudoirs?"

  THE KINGLET AND NEBBIE]

  "Devoirs, your Majesty!" said the fat man, hastily.

  "I said 'devoirs'!" returned the kinglet, turning upon him in anger.

  "We are late because we did not get here sooner," said the Awkward;"and we could not get here sooner because we were late."

  "So!" shrieked his Majesty, with blazing eyes. "Now by my halidom--" hepaused suddenly, and turned to the fat man, prodding him so fiercelythat he jumped several feet into the air. "Is 'halidom' the right word,Nebbie?"

  "Sure," said the fat man, nodding emphatically.

  "What does it mean?" asked the kinglet.

  "What does halidom mean?"

  "Yes."

  "Why, a halidom is a halidom," said the fat man, thoughtfully; "andbelongs to kings."

  "But what _is_ it?" persisted the kinglet, impatiently.

  "It's a--a--a sort of a royal prerogative, and is usually painted red,"returned the fat man, and immediately resumed his seat and closed hiseyes again.

  The kinglet sighed, and turned anew to the Failings.

  "Let me see," he remarked; "where was I?"

  "You were by your halidom, your Majesty," suggested the Blunderer.

  "Oh, yes." Again the long freckled face took on a frown. "By myhalidom, churl--" He stopped to glance at the fat man.

  "Churl is all right," mumbled Nebbie, without opening his eyes.

  "By my halidom, churl, you shall either swallow my sceptre or die thedeath!"

  "What death?" asked the Blunderer, trembling.

  "The one that makes people dead," replied the kinglet, sternly."Choose, then, varlet--" ("Varlet is good," said Nebbie, quickly, toavoid a thrust) "whether to swallow my sceptre or die the death!"

  The Blunderer glanced at the sceptre, the jewelled ball of which wasnearly as large as his head.

  "I'll swallow the sceptre," he said.

  "Good," cried the kinglet, and held it toward him.

  "But not now," added the Blunderer, hastily; "I'll take my time aboutit. You didn't say when, you know."

  The kinglet turned red with rage.

  "Now, by the royal Juggernaut of Jowl--" he began.

  "If I should swallow it now," continued the Blunderer, calmly, "youwould cease to be a kinglet; for a kinglet without a sceptre is nothingbut a flibberjig."

  "What!" shrieked his Majesty, jabbing the fat man furiously.

  "That's right," declared Nebbie, groaning and rubbing his fat sidedolefully. "A kinglet without a sceptre is a flibberjig, and I'll beblack and blue by to-morrow morning!"

  "Well," said his Majesty, after considering the matter, "I forbid you,Sir Blunderer, to swallow my sceptre until I give you leave."

  Then his eye fell upon John Dough and Chick, who were standing atone side of the Failings, and immediately the little kinglet lookedsurprised, and then curious, and then annoyed. But perhaps the annoyedlook was because Chick laughed in the royal face in a way that wascertainly disrespectful, and even John Dough didn't look at all humble.

  "Here, you Chick; behave yourself," commanded the kinglet.

  "I won't," said Chick, pouting two pretty lips.

  "Well, this kingdom existed at one time without an Incubator Baby, andI believe we could spare you now. I'll have your saucy head cut off,"declared the kinglet.

  "I dare you!" said Chick, making a face.

  "There's a nice child, I must say!" retorted the kinglet, scowling."But what can we expect of a baby that has no parents and no pr
operbringing-up? Bah! I'm ashamed of you, Chick!"

  "Don't you dare say anything against my Incubator!" cried Chick,angrily. "I guess I've had as good bringing-up as you have, youdisagreeable kinglet, you!"

  His Majesty was at first about to retort with equal anger; but hesuddenly changed his mind and turned to John Dough.

  "Who are you, stranger?" he asked. "And why are you wearing theBlunderer's armor?"

  So much disrespect had been shown this kinglet by his subjects thatJohn was about to reply lightly to these questions; but to his surpriseChick grasped his hand and whispered to him to make a low bow and tobe very careful what he said. So the gingerbread man stepped forwardand addressed his Majesty with great ceremony.

  "Oh, most puissant and serene kinglet!" he began; "I am called JohnDough, because I am made of gingerbread; and I came to your Islebecause I could not help it."

  The kinglet looked upon the stranger with a kindly expression.

  "'Puissant and serene'!" he murmured. "Evidently, John Dough, you are aperson of wit and intelligence, such as are most welcome to the Isle ofPhreex. Kneel thou at my feet."

  John knelt, as commanded, and the kinglet at once dealt him a sharpblow upon the Blunderer's helmet with the heavy end of the royalsceptre. It dented in the steel plate, and would have crushed thegingerbread man's head had it not been so well protected by the helmet.

  "I dub you Knight of Phreex," said his Majesty. "Rise, Sir JohnDough--villain no longer, but noble and favored among my subjects!"

  John stood up and bowed, although he was slightly dazed by the force ofthe blow.

  "Long live the gentle Kinglet of Phreex," he managed to say. And Chickclapped two chubby hands with glee, and whispered: "Well done, myfriend!"

  "You please me, Sir John," remarked the little kinglet, swelling outhis chest complacently. "I wish all the people of Phreex were so politeand discerning." Then he looked around and inquired: "Where's SirAusted Alfrin, the Poet Laureate?"

  Immediately a drapery parted, and a man with a pale, thin face and longblack hair entered and saluted his Majesty with profound respect. ThePoet had a bandage over one eye and hobbled as if lame in one leg. Hewas clothed all in black, and his long frock coat had grease spots downthe front of it.

  "Have you made me a sonnet to-day?" demanded the little kinglet.

  "Yes, my royal Master," answered the Poet; and, pompously unrolling ascroll, he read in a loud, falsetto voice, these lines:

  "There is a wise Kinglet of Phreex, Whose wit is so great that it leaks; His brain isn't big, But who cares a fig While wisdom from him fairly reeks?"

  "Now, that's not so bad," said his Majesty, reflectively. "But can'tyou make it a little stronger, Sir Poet?"

  "I'll try," replied Austed Alfrin; and after pencilling some words onhis tablets he read as follows:

  "The Goddess of Wisdom felt sad; And when asked why she whimpered so bad, Said: 'There's one, it is true, Who knows more than _I_ do-- And the Kinglet of Phreex is the lad!'"

  "Now that," said his Majesty, "strikes me as being real poetry. How doesit strike you, Sir John Dough?"

  "It's fairly good," replied the gingerbread man; "but it hardly doesyou justice."

  "The Poet doesn't dare do his Majesty justice," said the DisagreeableFailing. "If he did, there would soon be no Poet."

  "There's something in that, too," said the kinglet. "But now, SirAusted, write me a sonnet on my new subject, Sir John Dough."

  The Poet sighed and began writing on his tablets; and presently he readthis:

  "The Kinglet of Phreex, it is said, Has a Knight made of stale gingerbread; We could eat him, but yet The dyspepsia we'd get Would soon make us wish we were dead."

  "That," said John, indignantly, "is rank libel; and if your Majestywill loan me your sceptre, I'll make an end of this Poet in sevenseconds by the clock."

  "You have my permission to make mince-meat of him," replied thekinglet, cheerfully.

  "Mercy! mercy, my lord!" screamed the Poet, falling upon his kneesbefore John and hastily wiping the verse off his tablets, "give me onemore chance, I beg of you!"

  "Very well," said the gingerbread knight. "But if it's no better thanthe last you shall be discharged. Is it not so, your Majesty?"

  "Quite so," laughed the kinglet.

  The Poet nervously scribbled another set of lines, which he read in avoice that trembled with fear:

  "The Gingerbread Man is so sweet, To eat him would be a rare treat; He's crisp and well spiced, And you'd find, were he sliced, That the eggs in him cannot be beat!"

  "That's better," said John, "but I'm not sure about the eggs, as I didnot pay much attention when I was mixed. However, this sincere tributeto my excellence will save you from my displeasure, and you may gofree."

  The Poet did not wait an instant, but ran from the hall as fast as hislegs would carry him.

  The kinglet now dismissed the Failings, who left the royal presencequarrelling and threatening one another, and making so much noise anduproar that the gingerbread man was glad to see them go.

  "Aren't they nice?" asked the kinglet, looking after them. "I'd liketo drown them all in the castle moat, like kittens; but every kinglet,they say, has his Failings, so I suppose I must keep mine."

  He sighed, and continued: "But what did the Poet's sonnet say aboutyour being crisp and well spiced, and rather good eating were yousliced?"

  "Don't pay any attention to that, your Majesty!" said John, hastily.

  "But why not?" persisted the kinglet. "I declare, Sir John, there'ssomething about you that makes me hungry whenever I look at you. Idon't remember having eaten any gingerbread since I was a boy--ahem!--Imean since I came to rule over the Isle of Phreex. Ho there, my guards!Fetch me a knife!"

  John was now trembling with terror; but Chick said to the kinglet:"Your Majesty forgets that you are to have pancakes and maple-syrupfor tea. What's the use of spoiling your appetite, when you know thegingerbread man will keep good for weeks?"

  "Are you sure?" asked the kinglet, anxiously. "Are you sure he'll keep?Won't he get stale?"

  "Of course not," answered the child. "He's the kind of gingerbread thatalways keeps good. And you mustn't forget he'll be a credit to theIsle of Phreex; for whoever saw a live gingerbread man before?"

  "Nobody," declared the kinglet, positively. "You're right, my Cherub;I'll save the gingerbread man for another meal, and in the meantime Ican show him off before my people. We pride ourselves, Sir John, onhaving a greater variety of queer personages than any other kingdom inexistence."

  "Then you ought to be careful of them, and not permit them to beeaten," said John, still anxious. But the kinglet did not seem to hearhim.

  "Pancakes and maple-syrup!" muttered his Majesty, longingly. "Dear me,Chick; I wish tea were ready now."

  "So do I," said Chick, laughing; for John Dough was safe from beingeaten just then, whatever might be his future fate, and the child hadsaved him by the mention of the cakes and syrup.

  But now a sudden hubbub was heard at the door, and in rushed a numberof the royal guard wheeling a big platform on which was seated a womanso exceedingly fat that she appeared to be much wider than she was long.

  "Here! what's the trouble with Bebe Celeste?" asked the kinglet,frowning.

  BEBE CELESTE]

  "She has lost two ounces, your Majesty," puffed one of the guards,wiping the perspiration from his forehead with his coat sleeve.

  "Two ounces!" shouted the kinglet. "Now, by the toga of Samson--bythe way, Nebbie, did Samson wear a toga?" He punched the fat man soseverely that Nebbie gave a roar of pain before he answered.

  "He wore several, your Majesty!"

  "Then, by the several togas of Samson, Bebe Celeste, how dare you comebefore me two ounces shy?"

  "I didn't come; I was brought," said the fat woman, in a wheezy voice.

  "She was weighed in the balance and found wanting," said the
guardsman.

  "What was she wanting?" asked the kinglet.

  "Two ounces, your Majesty."

  The ruler rubbed his pug nose with one finger, in a reflective manner.

  "Bebe," said he, "you've been exercising again. You're trying toreduce!"

  The woman began to cry. "'T ain't my fault, your royal giblet--"

  "Kinglet, woman!" said the fat man, without opening his eyes.

  "Your royal kinglet, I didn't mean to lose a single flutter o' flesh.But my dog Duo got to quarrelling with himself and I got exercised inmy mind--"

  "Oh, the loss is in your mind, is it?" interrupted the kinglet. "Iwouldn't mind the loss if I had not forbidden you to exercise at all,even in your mind."

  "I couldn't help it, your fudgesty--"

  "Majesty, woman!" said the fat man, sleepily.

  "My dog Duo got to quarrelling--"

  "Bring us the dog, varlets, churls, and vassals!" screeched thekinglet, in his shrill voice.

  The guards stumbled over each other to obey; and presently theyreturned leading such a curious animal that John Dough stared at it inamazement.

  It was a dog, without doubt; or rather, it was a dog's body with a headand two legs at either end of it. So that when one end walked forwardthe other end had to walk backward, and that made the back end growlangrily. But the same end was not always the back end of the dog; forfirst one head, and then the other, would prove strongest, and drag thecurious animal forward.

  When this double dog, which was named Duo, was brought in, both headswere snarling and barking in a very noisy manner. But however muchenraged they were, they could never get together to do one anothermischief.

  "Be silent!" yelled the kinglet, annoyed at the clamor.

  But the dog's heads paid no attention to the command.

  "Very well," said his Majesty; "I'll put a stop to your noise for goodand all! Here, you guards, fetch me the Royal Executioner!"

  The fat lady began crying anew at this, and presently the door openedand a young girl entered the hall. She was clothed in simple robes ofpure white, over which her loose brown hair flowed in a soft cloud.Her eyes were large and dark and very gentle in expression, and hercheeks were fair as a lily. In one hand the maid bore a long sword, thenaked blade of which shone brightly in the light. In the other hand wasa sharpening-stone, and as she bowed before the kinglet she rubbed thestone gently against the keen edge of the blade.

  Although the dog's heads were still quarrelling, and Bebe Celeste stillweeping, it was upon John Dough that the Royal Executioner first turnedher eyes.

  "I hope it isn't this one, your Majesty!" she said, in a voice ofdisappointment; "for he won't bleed at all, being made of cake."

  "I beg your pardon," exclaimed John, hastily. "I am not cake, butgingerbread."

  "It's just the same," she answered, sighing; "you wouldn't bleed if Icut you into bits."

  "Why are you so bloodthirsty?" asked John, looking reproachfully intothe girl's gentle eyes.

  "Because I'm the Royal Executioner, I suppose," she answered. "I'veheld the office ever since my father was destroyed by an earthquake;but I've never yet executed a single person. The kinglet calls me inabout a dozen times a day, but something always happens to rob me ofmy victim. I've worn out three sword blades, sharpening them, but I'venever carved anything yet!"

  "Be of good cheer," said his Majesty, "for now you shall see blood flowlike water. This time I am fully resolved to be terrible. Cut me thissnarling cur into two parts!"

  "What, the dog?" asked the girl, surprised. And Bebe began to screamloudly; and the fat man woke up and shook his head, and Chick pattedboth heads of the animal tenderly, and a guardsman cried out: "Oh, no,your Majesty!"

  "And why not?" inquired the kinglet.

  "Why, this is the most valuable creature in all your dominions!" saidthe guard. "Do you desire to rob yourself of such a treasure, yourMajesty?"

  The kinglet hesitated, and then jabbed the fat man with his sceptre.

  "Is it so, Nebbie?" he asked.

  "It is so, my Lord," answered the fat man. "If you want to butcheranything, cut up a few of the Royal Guards, or mince the Failings,or carve Chick, the Cherub. But the dog Duo is one of the remarkablefeatures of your kingdom, and should be preserved at all hazards. Why,he's worth more than Bebe Celeste."

  "That reminds me of Bebe," said the kinglet, looking at the fat onesternly. "Take her away, guards, and stuff her with mashed potatoesand pate de foi gras. If she doesn't regain those two ounces in threedays, she'll disgrace my kingdom, and I'll turn her over to the RoyalExecutioner."

  So the guards trundled away the platform on which the fat lady sat, andthe dog Duo followed, first one head leading, and then the other. Andnow his Majesty threw off his ermine robe and laid down the sceptre andscrambled out of the throne.

  "The royal audience is ended for to-day," he said, "and now I'll go andsee if those cakes and maple-syrup are ready for tea. And see here,you Incubator Baby, look after Sir John Dough, and mind that nobodyeats him. If there's one bite gone when I see him again I'll turn youover to the Royal Executioner--and then there won't be any IncubatorBaby."

  Then his Majesty walked away, chuckling to himself in a verydisagreeable manner. At once the fat Nebbie rolled out of his low seatand stood up, yawning and stretching out his arms.

  "Our kinglet is a hard master," said he, with a sigh, "and I reallywish some one would get up a revolution and dethrone him. He's beenpunching my ribs all day long, and I'll be black and blue by to-morrowmorning."

  "He's cruel," said Chick, patting the fat man's hand, as if to comforthim.

  "Yet he's too tender-hearted to suit me," complained the lovelyExecutioner. "If I could only shed a single drop of blood, I'd feelthat I am of some use in the world."

  "How dreadful!" cried John, with a shudder.

  "Oh, not at all!" said the girl. "For what's the object of being anExecutioner if one can't execute?" And she tucked the sword under herarm and took out her handkerchief and went away weeping sorrowfully.