The soldiers loaded the carriage down with Meg’s dolls, and a big cart was filled with Bud’s toys. Then the purse-bearer paid the bill, although he sighed deeply several times while counting out the money. But the new king paid no attention to old Tillydib; and when the treasures were all secured the children mounted their ponies and rode joyfully back to the palace, followed in a procession by the carriage filled with dolls, and the cart loaded with toys, while Tullydub and Tillydib, being unable to ride in the carriage, trotted along at the rear on foot. Bud had the toys and dolls all carried upstairs into a big room, and then he ordered everybody to keep out while he and Fluff arranged their playthings around the room and upon the tables and chairs, besides littering the floor so that they could hardly find a clear place large enough for some of their romping games. “After all,” he said to his sister, “it’s a good thing to be a king!” “Or even a princess,” added Meg, busily dressing and arranging her dolls. They made Jikki bring their dinner to them in the “play-room,” as Bud called it; but neither of the children could spare much time to eat, their treasures being all so new and delightful. Soon after dusk, while Jikki was lighting the candles, the chief counselor came to the door to say that the king must be ready to attend the royal reception in five minutes. “I won’t,” said Bud. “I just won’t.” “But you _must_, your Majesty!” declared old Tullydub. “Am I not the king?” demanded Bud, looking up from where he was arranging an army of wooden soldiers. “Certainly, your Majesty,” was the reply. “And isn’t the king’s will the law?” continued Bud. “Certainly, your Majesty!” “Well, if that is so, just understand that I won’t come. Go away and let me alone!” “But the people expect your Majesty to attend the royal reception,” protested old Tullydub, greatly astonished. “It is the usual custom, you know; and they would be greatly disappointed if your Majesty did not appear.” “I don’t care,” said Bud. “You get out of here and let me alone!” “But, your Majesty—” The king threw a toy cannon at his chief counselor, and the old man ducked to escape it, and then quickly closed the door. “Bud,” said the princess, softly, “you were just saying it’s great fun to be a king.” “So it is,” he answered promptly. [Illustration: “THE KING THREW A TOY CANNON AT HIS CHIEF COUNSELOR.”] “But father used to tell us,” continued the girl, trying a red hat on a brown-haired doll, “that people in this world always have to pay for any good thing they get.” “What do you mean?” said Bud, with surprise. “I mean if you’re going to be the king, and wear fine clothes, and eat lovely dinners, and live in a palace, and have countless servants, and all the playthings you want, and your own way in everything and with everybody—then you ought to be willing to pay for all these pleasures.” “How? But how _can_ I pay for them?” demanded Bud, staring at her.