“I command him to marry her!” cried the King opening his eyes very wide and bending forward. [Illustration: (unlabelled)] “Faleero?” gasped the Prince, scarcely believing his ears. No wonder Pompadore was shocked. Faleero, although a Princess in her own right and of royal fairy descent, was so unattractive that in all her thousand years of life no one had wished to marry her. She lived in a small hut in the great forest kingdom next to Pumperdink and did nothing all day but gather faggots. Her face was long and lean, her hair thin and black and her nose so large that it made you think of a cauliflower. “Ugh!” groaned Prince Pompadore, falling back on Kabumpo for support. “Well, she’s a Princess and a fairy—the only one in any Kingdom. I don’t see why you want to be so fussy!” said the King fretfully. “Shall I tell her Royal Highness of the great good fortune that has befallen her?” asked the Prime Pumper, starting for the door. “Do so at once,” snapped Pompus. Just then he gave a scream of fright and pain, for a round shiny object had flown through the air and struck him on the head. “What was that?” The Prime Pumper looked suspiciously at the Elegant Elephant. Kabumpo glared back. “A—a warning!” stuttered the Prime Pumper, afraid to say that Kabumpo had flung the offending missile. “A warning, your Majesty!” “It’s nothing of the kind,” said the King angrily. “You’re getting old, Pumper and stupid. It’s—why it’s a door knob! Who _dares_ to hit me with a door knob?” “It hit me once,” mumbled Kabumpo, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other three. “How does it strike you?” “As an outrageous piece of impertinence!” spluttered Pompus, turning as red as a turkey cock. “Perhaps it has something to do with the scroll,” suggested Queen Pozy, taking it from the King. “See! It is gold and all the door knobs in the palace are ivory. And look! Here are some initials!” Sure enough! It was gold and in the very centre were the initials P. A. Just at this interesting juncture the page, who had been poking his head in the door every few minutes, gathered his courage together and rushed up to the King. “Pardon, Most High Highness, but General Quakes bade me say that this mirror was found under the window,” stuttered the page, and before Pompus had an opportunity to cry “Begone!” or “Dip him!” the little fellow made a dash for the door and disappeared. “It grows more puzzling every minute,” wailed the King, looking from the door knob to the mirror and from the mirror to the scroll. “If you take my advice you’ll have this marriage performed at once,” said the Prime Pumper in a trembling voice. “I believe I will!” sighed Pompus, rubbing the bump on his head. “Go and fetch the Princess Faleero and you, Pompa, prepare for your wedding.” “But Father!” began the Prince. “Not another word or you’ll be dipped!” rumbled the King of Pumperdink. “I’m not going to have my kingdom disappearing if I can help it!”