the kingdom is peaceful and contented as usual." And unfolding a huge parchment, he read as follows:—"Town of Salerno,—Prosperity and morality continue to improve. Two women died of starvation; ten children forsaken; three husbands have beaten their wives; ten wives have beaten their husbands; thirty robberies; two murders, three cases of poisoning. Nothing new."
"Is that all you have to tell me?" said King Honeybee, in a tone of irritation. "Well, I know much more, though I do not profess to know State affairs. A man has crossed the palace square, riding a fagot, and he has bewitched my daughter. She wishes wishes to marry him!"
"Sire," replied Mistigris, "I was aware of this little event—a minister knows everything; but why trouble your Majesty with these petty details? The man shall be hanged, and that settles the matter."
"And can you tell me where this rascal is?"
"Of course I can," answered Mistigris. "A minister sees and hears everything, and is everywhere."
"Well, sir, if this rogue is not here within a quarter of an hour, I will give your place to someone who will not merely see, but act. Now you may go."
Mistigris left the room smiling, but when he reached the antechamber, he turned purple with rage, and was obliged to seize the arm of the first friend he met. This happened to be the town magistrate. Mistigris grasped him by the collar.
"Sir," he said, "if within ten minutes you do not bring me a rogue who rides about Salerno on a bundle of sticks, you shall suffer for it. Remember this. Now you may go."
Leaving the magistrate to carry out these orders, the clever Mistigris returned to the King's chamber, resuming as he went the perpetual smile that played about his lips.
"Now let me see you dance."
III.
Glory is a splendid thing, but it has its inconveniences. Farewell to the pleasure of being unknown. Zerbin's triumphant entry into Salerno had hardly been accomplished before every child in the place knew all about the mode of living and the abode of the woodcutter, so that the officials had little trouble in finding the man they were looking for. Zerbin was kneeling in his yard, sharpening his famous hatchet, when he felt himself suddenly seized by the neck, and a powerful hand lifted him upon his legs by main force.
Zerbin, as unconcerned as ever, was proceeding to the palace, when on the square he was met by a long procession of gentlemen in embroidered coats and knee-breeches. These were the King's valets, who had come to escort the fiancé of the Princess to the King's palace. Having received orders to be polite, each held his hat in his hand and smiled amiably. They bowed to Zerbin; the wood-cutter, like a well-bred man, returned the bows. Again more bows from the valets, and more bows from Zerbin. This was repeated eight or ten times
