"Certainly," replied the Admiral. "You didn't suppose it was a job for the blacksmith, did you? But it's a long piece of work, even though the last chip was the smallest of the lot. Coco bolo is such tough stuff, you know, and of course the carpenter has to be extra particular in turning out a Prince." "Oh, so the little Princes are all made of coco bolo, too, are they?" asked Margaret. "Why, of course, they are," replied the King, rather surprised at the question. "Chips from the old block, you know. There were six chips left after I was finished, and the carpenter has been at work on them ever since; though whether he has completed the last one yet, I don't know. However, we'll soon see." As he said this, the King popped his fingers into his mouth and blew a shrill whistle. Immediately a door in the palace flew open and out came six plump duchesses, with Roman noses and two corkscrew curls apiece, dressed to look like nurses in mob caps and big white aprons, walking one behind the other and each carrying a covered basket on her arm. "Turn 'em out!" shouted the King; whereupon the six plump duchesses turned their six baskets upside down and out fell six little boys, dressed like Floating Island sailor-men, in cherry-colored blouses and green and white striped bloomers. Some of them fell on their backs and some on their heads and some on their noses and knees, but it seemed to make no difference: they all jumped up at once and came running to where Margaret and Frances and Coco Bolo Rex sat on the three-seated throne waiting for them--skipping and frolicking and playing leap-frog and cutting all sorts of capers. "They've just been dosed," explained the King. "That's what makes them so frisky." "Dosed!" cried Margaret. "I didn't suppose dosing ever made anyone frisky. What do you dose them with?" "Caper sauce," replied the King. "Jolly little chips, aren't they?" "They certainly are," cried Frances; and jumping down from her seat, she ran forward and caught up the youngest, intending to give him a good toss. She found him so heavy, however, that she changed her mind. "Why! What a weight he is!" she exclaimed. "He's only about half as tall as I am, but I believe he weighs as much." "He's made of heavy stuff," explained the King. "But we'll soon mend that. Come along, Chips, and I'll give you a treat." Marching over to the aëro-plane fountain, the King drew the milk-strainer from his pocket, and while the little Princes all stood in a row with their mouths wide open, like young fly-catchers, he fished out half-a-dozen bubbles and with the tip of his finger flipped one down each throat in turn. "Now," said he to Frances. "Try him again. You'll find him a good deal lighter."