“Now, see here,” the rabbit twitched his nose rapidly, “I’ll get you a cup of melted mud, but don’t you call me an idiot. I don’t mind working for one, nor digging for one and listening to his foolishness, but nobody can call me an idiot—not even a make-believe King!” “Oh, you make me tired!” fumed the gnome. “Then go to sleep,” advised the rabbit with a yawn. “What’s the use of trying to pretend you’re a King, Rug? Ho, ho! King over one wooden doll, six rocks and twenty-seven sofa cushions! You may have been a King once, but now you’re just a plain gnome and nothing else, and if you go and sit quietly in your plain rocking chair I’ll bring you a cup of plain mud.” With a chuckle, the rabbit retired, and Ruggedo, spluttering with fury, flounced into a doll’s broken rocker that was set in the exact center of the cave. “Here I give that rabbit everything I steal and he won’t even allow me the little luxury of calling him an idiot or of pulling his ears. How can I pretend to be a King without an ear to pull?” grumbled the gnome. “What are you grinning at?” Bouncing out of his chair, Ruggedo flew at a merry-faced wooden doll who sat propped up against the wall and shook her till her head turned round backwards and her arms and legs flew every which way. Then he hurled her violently into a corner. Quite out of breath he sank back in his chair and stared angrily about. When Wag returned the gnome snatched the tin cup of melted mud and tossed it down with one gulp. Then, flinging the cup at the doll, he went back to work. The rabbit shook his head mournfully and, picking up the wooden doll, straightened her out and placed her on a cushion. Then, yawning again, he lit a candle and started for the passage at the back of the cave. “How are you getting on?” he asked, pausing to look over the gnome’s shoulder with a grin. “Fine!” answered Ruggedo, forgetting to scowl. “I’m up to the sixth rock and expect to finish to-night.” “Who do you think will read it?” asked the rabbit, putting back both ears and stroking his whiskers. Then he gave a great spring, just escaped the chisel Ruggedo had flung at his head, and pattered away into the darkness. For several minutes the gnome danced up and down with fury. Then, as there was no one to pinch or shake, he started to work harder than ever on the sixth rock of his history. There were six of the great stones set in a row on one side of the cavern and the carving on them had taken the old gnome King the best part of two years. The letters were crooked and roughly chiseled, but quite readable. On the first rock he had carved: History of Ruggedo in Six Rocks Ruggedo the Rough—King of the Gnomes One time Metal Monarch, at other times a Limoneag, a goose, a nut, and now a common gnome by order of _Ozma of Oz._