And on they came, in hordes, till the capital was full and the country about the palace was one vast camp, while throughout the kingdom not a trace of the vine was to be seen. Then the nobles and prelates prepared for the coronation. It was magnificent. They girt Jim with the sword of state, clothed him in the imperial robes, placed the scepter in his hand, and, as the golden crown descended upon his head, all the people shouted: "Hail, King Nimblejimble, our deliverer! Long live the king!" [Illustration: MAKING AN ENTRANCE FOR THE KING THROUGH THE MELON IN FRONT OF THE PALACE GATE.] And the silly boy was happy. Meanwhile, the poor, faithful old king, who cheerfully had given up all for his people, was hammering and stitching and digging away on Jim's cobbler-bench off in the village; and Jim's mother, whom the naughty boy, in his strange elevation, had forgotten all about, tenderly cared for the humbled old monarch. Before long, the elfin queen saw how patient the old king and Jim's mother were, and how badly Nimble Jim was behaving now he was king, for he was given up to all sorts of wickedness and tyranny, was fast becoming hated by every one, and himself was beginning to see that he was not nearly so happy as he had been while he was a cobbler. Jim was really good at heart, only his unreasonable discontent with his lot had got him into all this misery. At last, he began to repent, and, one moonlight night when he was walking alone on the palace terrace, he said: "I wish I could see that little elfin queen, and I would ask her to let me go back home again." "Well, here I am!" said the silvery voice; and, sitting on a moonbeam beside him, there she was. "Tired of being king, Jim?" she asked. "Yes, your majesty, indeed I am," he replied. "Want any more melons, Jim?" said she, laughing. "No, no, no!" groaned Jim. "No more!" "How is your mother, Jim?" asked her majesty. "Alas! I don't know,"--and he hung his head in shame. "Are you ready to go and see her, Jim?" she asked, gently. "And will you be contented now?" "Yes, yes!" was his eager reply. Now, the old king had been mending shoes all day, and was at this moment resting in the cottage porch, when, suddenly, he was whisked away on a cloud and landed in his palace again. His crown was popped on his head, and the scepter thrust in his hand, while his old chamberlain tenderly tucked him up in bed. At the same instant, another cloud brought back Nimble Jim to his bench and his faithful mother, who at once made him some oat-meal porridge without a murmur or word of reproach. "There!" said the elfin queen to herself. "That boy is cured of his silly notions." "Mother, I think I don't care much for melons. I wont plant any more," said Jim next morning. "I don't like 'em myself, lad," said the mother. "I'd a deal rather you'd stick to the bench, like your auld father."