So saying, the Admiral reached down from a nail a big book, the leaves of which were made of slabs of wood, like shingles. "This," said he, "is the log-book, and you see each family tree is recorded on a different page. Number one: the Oak family; number two: the Maples; number three: Lignum-Vitæ--very aristocratic family, that; number four: my own family, the Boxwoods; and so on." "I see. What a good idea! I suppose that is the carpenter over there, talking to the King: the little man in pink overalls and a paper cap, scratching his ear with a chisel." "That's the carpenter. He seems to be rather puzzled about something. Let us go and see what he's making." They found the King and the carpenter bending over a short log of wood, roughly chiseled into the form of a man, which lay on a pair of trestles between them. Both of them looked so serious that the little girls could not help thinking there must be something wrong. "What is it, Rex?" asked the Admiral. "Anything the matter?" "Matter!" cried His Majesty. "I should think there was. We're regularly up a stump. What kind of wood do you suppose this is?"--touching the log with his foot. "I'm sure I don't know," replied the Admiral. "What is it? Mahogany?" "No. I wish it were. That would be simple enough. It's _Blue Gum_!" "Phew!" whistled the Admiral. And then he and the King and the carpenter all took hold of their chins with one hand, stuck out their lower lips, and gazed in perplexity at the log of wood lying on the trestles. Evidently it was a serious matter, for even the little Coco Bolos stuck out their lower lips in imitation of their elders, though why it was a serious matter Margaret and Frances could not understand. Margaret was just going to ask, when the King turned round and said: "It's because it's Blue Gum, you see. Any other color would have been all right--but _Blue_! The one color we've always avoided." "Most unlucky," remarked the Admiral. "How did it get here?" "Floated ashore yesterday," replied the carpenter. "You see," continued the King, "it is against the law here for anyone to look blue--and what we are going to do with this log of Blue Gum I can't think." "Couldn't you make a policeman?" suggested Frances. "Grand idea!" cried the King, clapping his hands. "Just the thing! Thank you ever so much. We'll have a blue policeman to chase away the 'blues', just as we have a Court Crier to do the crying. What a happy thought! Then, if anyone does forget to be cheerful and polite it shall be the policeman's duty to catch him and paint him blue, of course." "He won't have much to do at that rate," remarked the Admiral, "for nobody has ever been painted blue yet. You'll have to give him something else to do to fill up his time, or he'll be coming down with the 'blues' himself." "You might give him a butterfly net," suggested Margaret, "and set him to chasing blue-bottles for practice."