I had just scolded severely my Lord High Chancellor for coming to breakfast without combing his eyebrows, and was so sad and regretful at having hurt the poor man's feelings that I decided to shut myself up in my own room and study the scroll until I knew how to be good--hee, heek, keek, eek, eek!--to be good! Clever idea, that, wasn't it?
Mighty clever! And I issued a decree that no one should enter my room, under pain of my royal displeasure, until I was ready to come out.

They're awfully afraid of my royal displeasure, although not a bit afraid of me.

Then I put the parchment in my pocket and escaped through the back door to my boat--and here I am.

Oo, hoo-hoo, keek-eek! Imagine the fuss there would be in Gilgad if my subjects knew where I am this very minute!" "I would like to see that parchment," said the solemn-eyed Prince Inga, "for if it indeed teaches one to be good it must be worth its weight in pearls." "Oh, it's a fine essay," said Rinkitink, "and beautifully written with a goosequill.

Listen to this: You'll enjoy it--tee, hee, hee!--enjoy it." He took from his pocket a scroll of parchment tied with a black ribbon, and having carefully unrolled it, he proceeded to read as follows: "'A Good Man is One who is Never Bad.' How's that, eh?
Fine thought, what?
'Therefore, in order to be Good, you must avoid those Things which are Evil.' Oh, hoo-hoo-hoo!--how clever! When I get back I shall make the man who wrote that a royal hippolorum, for, beyond question, he is the wisest man in my kingdom--as he has often told me himself." With this, Rinkitink lay back in his chair and chuckled his queer chuckle until he coughed, and coughed until he choked and choked until he sneezed.