“His Imperial Fatness was graciously pleased to be sulky. His Imperial Fatness was graciously pleased to box my ears. His Imperial Fatness was graciously pleased to say ‘I don’t care!’” “‘Don’t-care’ came to a bad end,” Sylvie whispered to Bruno. “I’m not sure, but I _believe_ he was hanged.” The Professor overheard her. “_That_ result,” he blandly remarked, “was merely a case of mistaken identity.” Both children looked puzzled. “Permit me to explain. ‘Don’t-care’ and ‘Care’ were twin-brothers. ‘Care,’ you know, killed the Cat. And they caught ‘Don’t-care’ by mistake, and hanged him instead. And so ‘Care’ is alive still. But he’s very unhappy without his brother. That’s why they say ‘Begone, dull Care!’” “Thank you!” Sylvie said, heartily. “It’s very extremely interesting. Why, it seems to explain _everything_!” “Well, not quite _everything_,” the Professor modestly rejoined. “There are two or three scientific difficulties——” “What was your general impression as to His Imperial Fatness?” the Emperor asked the Gold Stick. “My impression was that His Imperial Fatness was getting more——” “More _what_?” All listened breathlessly for the next word. “More PRICKLY!” “He must be sent for _at once_!” the Emperor exclaimed. And the Gold Stick went off like a shot. The Elfin-King sadly shook his head. “No use, no use!” he murmured to himself. “Loveless, loveless!” Pale, trembling, speechless, the Gold Stick came slowly back again. “Well?” said the Emperor. “Why does not the Prince appear?” “One can easily guess,” said the Professor. “His Imperial Fatness is, without doubt, a little preoccupied.” Bruno turned a look of solemn enquiry on his old friend. “What do that word mean?” But the Professor took no notice of the question. He was eagerly listening to the Gold Stick’s reply. “Please your Highness! His Imperial Fatness is——” Not a word more could he utter. The Empress rose in an agony of alarm. “Let us go to him!” she cried. And there was a general rush for the door. Bruno slipped off his chair in a moment. “May we go too?” he eagerly asked. But the King did not hear the question, as the Professor was speaking to him. “_Preoccupied_, your Majesty!” he was saying. “That is what he is, no doubt!” “May we go and see him?” Bruno repeated. The King nodded assent, and the children ran off. In a minute or two they returned, slowly and gravely. “Well?” said the King. “What’s the matter with the Prince?” “He’s—what _you_ said,” Bruno replied, looking at the Professor. “That hard word.” And he looked to Sylvie for assistance. “Porcupine,” said Sylvie. “No, no!” the Professor corrected her. “‘_Pre-occupied_,’ you mean.” [Illustration: ‘PORCUPINE!’] “No, it’s _porcupine_,” persisted Sylvie. “Not that other word at all. And please will you come? The house is all in an uproar.” (“And oo’d better bring an uproar-glass wiz oo!” added Bruno.)