Chapter Eleven
"I don't care what it calls itself," answered the second Candleman crossly. "I call it mighty rude. How dare you blow out our king?" shouted the hot-headed fellow, shaking his fist at the Elegant Elephant. "Here, some of you, light him up!"
"Blow out your King?" gasped Kabumpo in amazement. Sure enough, he had. There at his feet lay the King of the Candles, stiff and lifeless and with never a head to bless himself with. While the Elegant Elephant stared at the long candlestick figure a fat little Candleman rushed forward and lit with his own head the small black wick sticking out of the King's collar.
Instantly the ruddy flame face of the King appeared, his eyes snapping dangerously. Jumping to his feet he advanced toward Pompadore. "Is this your Ouch?" spluttered the King, jerking his thumb at Kabumpo. "You must take him away at once. I never was so put out in my life. Me, the hand-dipped King of the whole Illumi Nation, to be blown out by a bumpy creature without any headlight. Where's your headlight?" he demanded fiercely, leaning over the Prince and dropping hot tallow down his neck.
Pompa jumped up in a hurry and backed toward Kabumpo. "Be careful how you talk to him," roared
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