ground for the fly!" he finished with a rush. Then, hopelessly muddled, he gasped: "That is all, your Royal Baldness! Oh, dear! Oh, my dear! what have I done?"
At the word "baldness" the Ladies of the Court fell swooning in heaps to the marble floor while the Gentlemen dodged, ducked and scurried into the corners. "Baldness!" shrieked the King, dancing with rage. "Baldness!" and he tore off his pointy crown and flung it at the Poet's head. But the Poet was wildly tugging the great door open and out he fled, the King's sceptre and buckled shoes clattering after him. Having nothing left to throw, the King began stamping his stockinged feet and roaring, "Bun! Bun, indeed!"
After he had said everything possible—and more besides—he fell a-thinking. He thought and thought and thought. Then suddenly he began to chuckle and his little green eyes began to dance wickedly. "Fetch the Court Barber!" he shouted at the trembling pages. And when the Barber in obedience to the King's summons came waddling in he fairly roared with glee. Then he arose and wiping the tears of mirth from his little green eyes he commanded, "Let the Court Painter step forward."
"Ha!" said the King, fixing his eye upon the trembling Painter, "is my head not beautiful?"
"Yes—yes—certainly—yes!" stammered the painter.
"Would you not like to have one as beautiful?"
"Oh! Oh! No! I mean yes—oh, my hair—oh, my head! My career and my art!" wailed the Painter and fell over in a heap. "Do your work!" ordered the King. The Barber stepped forward importantly and tying a red towel round the Painter's neck began snipping off his long locks. As each one fell the Painter groaned and the King chuckled. Dears, it was terrible! When the snipping was over he lathered the poor fellow's crown and shaved off every single hair—ev-e-ry one. Think of that! "Beautiful!" exclaimed the King. "Bee-yutiful! Now pay the Barber, sir! One must pay well for such a favor."
