'Your kingdoms,' he added, 'are next door to each other.' 'So we shall see each other often,' said Billy. 'Cheer up! We might travel together, perhaps.' 'No,' said the pig; 'Queens go by railway. A Queen has to begin to get used to her train as soon as she can. Now, run along, do. My friend here will see her off.' 'You're sure they won't eat me?' said Eliza--and Billy was certain they wouldn't, though he didn't know why. So he said, 'Good-bye. I hope you'll get on in your new place,' and off he went to buy a penny luggage label at the expensive stationer's three doors down the street on the right-hand side. And when he had addressed the label and tied it round his neck, he posted himself honourably at the General Post-Office. The rest of the letters in the box made a fairly comfortable bed, and Billy fell asleep. When he awoke he was being delivered by the early morning postman at the Houses of Parliament in the capital of Plurimiregia, and the Houses of Parliament were just being opened for the day. The air of Plurimiregia was clear and blue, very different from the air of Claremont Square, Pentonville. The hills and woods round the town looked soft and green, from the hill in the middle of the town where the Parliament Houses stood. The town itself was small and very pretty, like one of the towns in old illuminated books, and it had a great wall all round it, and orange trees growing on the wall. Billy wondered whether it was forbidden to pick the oranges. When Parliament was opened by the footman whose business it was, Billy said: 'Please, I've come about the place----' 'The King's or the cook's?' asked the footman. Billy was rather angry. 'Now, do I look like a cook?' he said. 'The question is, do you look like a King?' said the footman. 'If I get the place you will be sorry for this,' said Billy. 'If you get the place you won't keep it long' said the footman. 'It's not worth while being disagreeable; there's not time to do it properly in. Come along in.' Billy went along in, and the footman led him into the presence of the Prime Minister, who was sitting with straws in his hair, wringing his hands. [Illustration: '"Come by post, your Lordship," said the footman.'--Page 255.] 'Come by post, your lordship,' the footman said--'from London.' The Prime Minister left off wringing his hands, and held one of them out to Billy. 'You will suit!' he said. 'I'll engage you in a minute. But just pull the straws out of my hair first, will you? I only put them in because we hadn't been able to find a suitable King, and I find straws so useful in helping my brain to act in a crisis. Of course, once you're engaged for the situation, no one will ask you to do anything useful.' Billy pulled the straws out, and the Prime Minister said: