It didn't cost much, and looked more like a yellow cog-wheel rolling in deep mud than anything else.

But we thought it would do very well.
Rectus and I had barely reached the stairs, by the way of the old fort, when Priscilla made her appearance in the ravine at the head of a crowd of whooping barefooted young rascals, who came skipping along as if they expected something to eat.
"I'd never be a queen," said Rectus, "if I had to have such a lot of subjects as that." "Don't think you would," said I; "but we mustn't let 'em come up the stairs.

They must stay at the bottom, so that we can harangue 'em." So we charged down the stairs, and made the adherents bunch themselves on the level ground.
Then we harangued them, and they laughed, and hurrahed, and whistled, and jumped, while Priscilla, as an active emissary, ran around among them, punching them, and trying to make them keep still and listen.
But as they all promised to stick to us and the royal queen through thick and thin, we didn't mind a little disorder.
The next day but one was to be coronation day, and we impressed it on the minds of the adherents that they must be sure to be on hand about ten in the morning, in front of the queen's hut.

We concluded not to call it a palace until after the ceremony.
When we had said all we had to say, we told the assemblage that it might go home; but it didn't seem inclined to do anything of the kind.
"Look a here, boss," said one of them,--a stout, saucy fellow, with the biggest hat and the biggest feet on the island,--"aint you agoin' to give us nothin' for comin' round here ?" "Give you anything!" cried Rectus, blazing up suddenly.

"That's a pretty way to talk! It's the subjects that have to give.