[Illustration: “‘I HAVE ORDERED TWENTY SUITS FOR YOUR MAJESTY AND FORTY GOWNS FOR THE PRINCESS.’”] In answer to Tallydab’s summons the other four periwigs, pompous and solemn, filed into the room and stood in a row before Bud, who looked upon them with a sensation of awe. “Your Majesty,” began the venerable Tullydub, in a grave voice, “we are here to instruct you, with your gracious consent, in your new and important duties.” Bud shifted uneasily in his chair. It all seemed so unreal and absurd—this kingly title and polite deference bestowed upon a poor boy by five dignified and periwigged men—that it was hard for Bud to curb his suspicion that all was not right. “See here, all of you,” said he, suddenly, “is this thing a joke? tell me, is it a joke?” “A joke?” echoed all of the five counselors, in several degrees of shocked and horrified tones; and Tellydeb, the lord high executioner, added reproachfully: “Could we, by any chance, have the temerity to joke with your mighty and glorious Majesty?” “That’s just it,” answered the boy. “I am not a mighty and glorious Majesty. I’m just Bud, the ferryman’s son, and you know it.” “You are Bud, the ferryman’s son, to be sure,” agreed the chief counselor, bowing courteously; “but by the decrees of fate and the just and unalterable laws of the land you are now become absolute ruler of the great kingdom of Noland; therefore all that dwell therein are your loyal and obedient servants.” [Illustration: “‘A JOKE?’ ECHOED ALL OF THE FIVE COUNSELORS, IN SEVERAL DEGREES OF SHOCKED AND HORRIFIED TONES.”] Bud thought this over. “Are you sure there’s no mistake?” he asked, with hesitation. “There _can_ be no mistake,” returned old Tullydub, firmly; “for we, the five high counselors of the kingdom, have ourselves interpreted and carried out the laws of the land, and the people, your subjects, have approved our action.” “Then,” said Bud, “I suppose I’ll have to be king whether I want to or not.” “Your Majesty speaks but the truth,” returned the chief counselor, with a sigh. “With or without your consent, you are the king. It is the law.” And all the others chanted in a chorus: “It is the law.” Bud felt much relieved. He had no notion whatever of refusing to be a king. If there was no mistake, and he was really the powerful monarch of Noland, then there ought to be no end of fun and freedom for him during the rest of his life. To be his own master; to have plenty of money; to live in a palace and order people around as he pleased—all this seemed to the poor and friendless boy of yesterday to be quite the most delightful fate that could possibly overtake one. So lost did he become in thoughts of the marvelous existence opening before him that he paid scant attention to the droning speeches of the five aged counselors, who were endeavoring to acquaint him with the condition of affairs in his new kingdom, and to instruct him in his many and difficult duties as its future ruler.