“Bald!” gulped Pompa, rubbing his head. “Do you mean to say you take poor innocent travelers and make them into arithmetic problems?” “Why not?” said the thin one, who looked exactly like a giant lead pencil. “And please address me as Count, after this—Count It Up is my name. What’s the matter with living in a problem, my boy? Life is a problem, after all, and you will get used to it in time. I’ll try to assign you to a comfortable book and you’ll find book-keeping a lot more simple than house-keeping. This way, please!” “Please go,” yawned the Ruler, waving his hand. “The Count will take you in charge now.” And so dazed was the Elegant Elephant by all this strange reasoning that he tamely followed the lead pencil person. “Good-bye!” shouted the Ruler hoarsely. “Start them on simple additions,” he said as they moved off. The street ahead was filled with Figure Heads and as Kabumpo paused they began forming themselves into sums. The first row sat down, the next knelt behind them, the third stood up, the fourth nimbly leaped upon the shoulders of the third, and so on, until a long addition confronted the travelers. “Now,” said Count It Up in his blunt way, “as you haven’t figures for heads, let us see if you have heads for figures.” Kabumpo pushed back his pearl headdress and drops of perspiration began to run down his trunk. Prince Pompa, lying flat on Kabumpo’s head, started to add up the first line of figures. “Eighty-three,” he announced anxiously. “Say three and eight to carry,” snapped Count It Up. “Here, Three!” A Three stepped out of the crowd and placed itself under the line. “I’ve got to be carried!” cried Eight, looking sulkily at Pompa. “Carried!” snorted Kabumpo, snatching Eight into the air. “Well, I’ll attend to you. You do the adding, Pompa, and I’ll do the carrying.” He landed the Eight head down at the bottom of the line of Figure Heads and swung his trunk carelessly while he waited for his next victim. So, slowly and painfully, Pompa counted up the long lines and Kabumpo carried and if they made the slightest mistake the Figure Heads shouted with scorn and danced about till the confusion was terrible. When an example was finished, the Figure Heads in it marched away but another would immediately form lines ahead so that it took them a whole hour to go two blocks. [Illustration: Slowly and Painfully Pompa Counted up the Long Lines] “Oh!” groaned Pompa at last, “We’ll never get through this, Kabumpo. Look at those awful fractions ahead! Can’t I skip fractions?” he asked looking pleadingly at Count It Up. “Certainly not!” said the pencilly man stroking his shiny hair, which was straight and black and grew up into a sharp point. “You shall skip nothing!” “That gives me an idea,” whispered Kabumpo huskily. “Why shouldn’t we skip altogether? We’re bigger than they are. Why—” “How are you getting on?” At the sound of that hoarse, familiar voice both the Prince and Kabumpo jumped.