King Bud caused his subjects some little anxiety, to be sure; for they never could tell what he was liable to do next, except that he was sure to do something unexpected. But much is forgiven a king; and if Bud made some pompous old nobleman stand on his head, to amuse a mob of people, he would give him a good dinner afterward and fill his purse with gold to make up for the indignity. Fluff often reproved her brother for such pranks, but Bud’s soul was flooded with mischief, and it was hard for him to resist letting a little of the surplus escape now and then. After all, the people were fairly content and prosperous, and no one was at all prepared for the disasters soon to overtake them. One day, while King Bud was playing at ball with some of his courtiers on a field outside the city gates, the first warning of trouble reached him. Bud had batted a ball high into the air, and while looking upward for it to descend he saw another ball bound from the plain at the top of the North Mountains, fly into the air, and then sink gradually toward him. As it approached, it grew bigger and bigger, until it assumed mammoth proportions; and then, while the courtiers screamed in terror, the great ball struck the field near them, bounced high into the air, and came down directly upon the sharp point of one of the palace towers, where it stuck fast with a yell that sounded almost human. For some moments Bud and his companions were motionless through surprise and fear; then they rushed into the city and stood among the crowd of people which had congregated at the foot of the tower to stare at the big ball impaled upon its point. Once in a while, two arms, two short legs, and a head would dart out from the ball and wiggle frantically, and then the yell would be repeated and the head and limbs withdrawn swiftly into the ball. It was all so curious that the people were justified in staring at it in amazement; for certainly no one had ever seen or heard of a Roly-Rogue before, or even known such a creature existed. Finally, as no one else could reach the steeple-top, Aunt Rivette flew into the air and circled slowly around the ball. When next its head was thrust out, she called: “Are you a mud-turtle or a man?” “I’ll show you which, if I get hold of you,” answered the Roly-Rogue, fiercely. “Where did you come from?” asked Aunt Rivette, taking care the wiggling arms did not grab her. [Illustration: “‘WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?’ ASKED AUNT RIVETTE.”] “That is none of your business,” said the RolyRogue. “But I didn’t intend to come, that you may depend upon.” “Are you hurt?” she inquired, seeing that the struggles of the creature made him spin around upon the steeple-point like a windmill. “No, I’m not hurt at all,” declared the Roly-Rogue; “but I’d like to know how to get down.” “What would you do if we helped you to get free?” asked Aunt Rivette.