Then he resumed his story: "This empty-headed man was a King by accident, having been born to that high station.

Also the King was empty-headed by the same chance, being born without brains." "Poor fellow!" quoth the King.

"Did he own a talking goat ?" "He did," answered Bilbil.
"Then he was wrong to have been born at all.

Cheek-eek-eek-eek, oo, hoo!" chuckled Rinkitink, his fat body shaking with merriment.

"But it's hard to prevent oneself from being born; there's no chance for protest, eh, Bilbil ?" "Who is telling this story, I'd like to know," demanded the goat, with anger.
"Ask someone with brains, my boy; I'm sure I can't tell," replied the King, bursting into one of his merry fits of laughter.
Bilbil rose to his hoofs and walked away in a dignified manner, leaving Rinkitink chuckling anew at the sour expression of the animal's face.
"Oh, Bilbil, you'll be the death of me, some day--I'm sure you will!" gasped the King, taking out his lace handkerchief to wipe his eyes; for, as he often did, he had laughed till the tears came.
Bilbil was deeply vexed and would not even turn his head to look at his master.