“You mean if _I_ can help it,” muttered Pompadore gloomily. “This is ridiculous!” stormed the Elegant Elephant, as the Prime Pumper rushed importantly out of the room. “Don’t you know that this country of ours is only a small part of the great Kingdom of Oz? There must be hundreds of Princesses for Pompadore to choose from. Why should he not wed Ozma, the princess of us all? Haven’t you read any Oz history? Have you never heard of the wonderful Emerald City? Let Pompadore start out at once. I, myself, will accompany him, and if Ozma refuses to marry him—well”—the Elegant Elephant drew himself up—“I will carry her off—that’s all!” “It’s a long way to the Emerald City,” mused Queen Pozy, “but still—” “Yes, and what is to become of us in the meantime pray? While you are wandering all over Oz we can disappear I suppose! No Sir! Not one step do you go out of Pumperdink. Faleero is the Proper Princess and Pompadore shall marry her!” said Pompus. “You’re talking through your crown,” wheezed Kabumpo. “How about the door knob and mirror? They came out of the cake as well as the scroll. What are you going to do about them? Let’s have a look at that mirror.” “Just a common gold mirror,” fumed Pompus, holding it up for the Elegant Elephant to see. “What’s the matter?” as Kabumpo gave a snort. On the face of the mirror, as Kabumpo looked in, two words appeared: Elegant Elephant. And when Pompus snatched the mirror, above his reflection stood the words: Fat Old King. Then Queen Pozy peeped into the mirror, which promptly flashed: Lovely Queen. “Why, it’s telling the truth!” screamed Pompa, looking over his mother’s shoulder. At this the words “Charming Prince” formed quickly in the glass. The Prince grinned at his father, who was now quite beside himself with rage. “You think I’m fat and old, do you!” snorted the King, flinging the gold mirror face down on the table. “This is a nice day, I must say! Scrolls, door knobs, mirrors and insults!” “But what can P. A. stand for?” mused Queen Pozy thoughtfully. “Plain enough,” chuckled Kabumpo, maliciously. “It stands for perfectly awful!” “Who’s perfectly awful?” asked Pompus suspiciously. “Why, Faleero,” sniffed the Elegant Elephant. “That’s plain enough to everybody!” “Dip him!” shrieked Pompus. “I’ve had enough of this! _Dip him_—do you hear?” “That,” yawned Kabumpo, straightening his silk robe, “is impossible!” And, considering his size it was. But just that minute the Prime Pumper returned and in his interest to hear what the Princess Faleero had said the King forgot about dipping Kabumpo. The courier from the Princess stepped forward. “Her Highness,” puffed the Prime Pumper, who had run all the way, “Her Highness accepts Prince Pompadore with pleasure and will marry him to-morrow morning.” Prince Pompadore gave a dismal groan.