The King got up early next morning and came down three steps at a time like a schoolboy.

Having eaten his breakfast hurriedly, but with an appetite, he summoned one of the highest officials of the Palace, and presented him with a shilling.

"Go and buy me," he said, "a shilling paint-box, which you will get, unless the mists of time mislead me, in a shop at the corner of the second and dirtier street that leads out of Rochester Row.

I have already requested the Master of the Buckhounds to provide me with cardboard.

It seemed to me (I know not why) that it fell within his department." The King was happy all that morning with his cardboard and his paint-box.