Perhaps even so short a residence in Maerchenland as theirs might have prepared the Royal party for the unusual. But it was an undeniable shock to them all to find, on arrival at the mine, not only that the method of working was primitive to the last degree, but that it was entirely conducted by diminutive beings who were unmistakable Yellow Gnomes. The interior of the mine resounded with the blows of pickaxes, but the inevitable trumpeters had no sooner announced that the Sovereigns had left their coach than all work was suspended. The miners swarmed up from their tunnellings, literally tumbling over one another in their haste to behold the countenances of Royalty. "They seem--ah--a remarkable lively lot," observed King Sidney as some of the Gnomes turned somersaults and Catherine wheels around their visitors, while the more retiring stood unassumingly in the background on their heads. "A bit undersized, and, judging from their complexions, I should say the work had affected their livers. But it _may_ only be due to the gold-dust." "They don't seem to realise a bit who we _are_!" complained Queen Selina. "Sidney, _did_ you see that? One of the little wretches has just taken a flying leap over my very head!" The Baron, who had followed in another coach, explained that these demonstrations were merely intended to express loyal delight. "Oh, if you _say_ so, Baron," she said. "But anyone might easily mistake it for impertinence. If it was not hopeless to expect an intelligent answer from people who seem unable to stay right side up for a single moment, I should like to know what wages they receive and what they live on." The Court Chamberlain informed her that the Gnomes got no wages and required little in the way of food, their favourite diet, he believed, being earth. "Revolting!" was her comment. "No wonder they look so unwell! Still, their living cannot cost much, so I should think, Sidney, if we gave the--er--foreman a gold piece to be divided amongst them, that would be amply sufficient." King Sidney thereupon presented a ducat to the most important-looking Gnome, who immediately let it drop indifferently. "Wonder why he did that?" said the King. "Doesn't he think it's enough?" "Knows too much about how it's made, I expect," said Clarence. "Like the chap at the Marmalade factory." "Well, it's a pity to waste it," said his father, picking up the coin. "I should like to see them at work before we go." His wish having been conveyed to the Head Gnome, the whole band rushed, yelping and screeching, back into the galleries, seized their picks, and began hacking at the gold which gleamed in veins of incredible richness through the rocky walls and roof of the caves. But perhaps their efforts would have been more effective if they had not been quite so apt to get in one another's way.