"Just now
I might suggest to your Majesty to order some rooms got
ready for us in your dinky little castle here. And a
royal banquet, with some fried onions an' pickled tripe,
would set easy on our stomicks an' make us a bit happier
than we are now."
"Your wishes shall be attended to," said King Krewl,
but his eyes flashed from between their slits in a wicked
way that made Trot hope the food wouldn't be poisoned. At
the King's command several of his attendants hastened
away to give the proper orders to the castle servants and
no sooner were they gone than a skinny old man entered
the courtyard and bowed before the King.
This disagreeable person was dressed in rich velvets,
with many furbelows and laces. He was covered with golden
chains, finely wrought rings and jeweled ornaments. He
walked with mincing steps and glared at all the courtiers
as if he considered himself far superior to any or all of
them.
"Well, well, your Majesty; what news -- what news?" he
demanded, in a shrill, cracked voice.
The King gave him a surly look.
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