dom," asked Pompa, somewhat cast down by these words.
"You have no heads," announced the Ruler calmly, "or you would have known that this is Rith Metic. I," he hammered himself upon the wooden chest—"I am its Ruler and every inch a King—King of the Figure Heads," he added, glaring around as if he expected someone to contradict him.
"All right! All right!" wheezed Kabumpo, bowing his head twice. "I knew twelve inches made a foot rule, but I never knew they made a King Rule. But could you give us some luncheon and allow us to pass peaceably through your Kingdom?"
"Pass through!" exclaimed the King, standing up indignantly. "We don't pass anyone through here. You've got to work your way through. Pass through, indeed! And when you've worked your way through we'll put you in a problem and make an example of you."
"They'll make a very good example, your Majesty," said a tall thin individual standing next to the Ruler. He eyed the two cunningly, "If a thin Prince sets out on a fat elephant to find a Proper Princess, how many yards of fringe will the elephant lose from his robe and how bald will the Prince be at the end of the journey?
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