“Alas!” replied the confectioner. “That is just the cause of my trouble. The sweetmeats that I make are so good that their fame has spread far and wide, and the Rat King, hearing of them, has taken up his abode in my cellar. Every night he comes up and eats all the sweetmeats I have made the day before. There is no comfort in my life, and I am thinking of becoming a rope-maker and hanging myself with the first rope I make.” “Why don’t you set a trap for him?” asked Hokey Pokey. “I have set fifty-nine traps,” replied the confectioner, “but he is so strong that he breaks them all.” “Poison him,” suggested Hokey Pokey. “He dislikes poison,” said the confectioner, “and will not take it in any form.” “In that case,” said Hokey Pokey, “leave him to me. Go away, and hide yourself for a few minutes, and all will be well.” The confectioner retired behind a large screen, having first showed Hokey Pokey the hole of the Rat King, which was certainly a very large one. Hokey Pokey sat down by the hole, with his mallet in his hand, and said in a squeaking voice,— “Ratly King! Kingly Rat! Here your mate comes pit-a-pat. Come and see; the way is free; Hear my signal: one! two! three!” [Illustration: “The confectioner thanked him warmly.”] And he scratched three times on the floor. Almost immediately the head of a rat popped up through the hole. He was a huge rat, quite as large as a cat; but his size was no help to him, for as soon as he appeared, Hokey Pokey dealt him such a blow with his mallet that he fell down dead without even a squeak. Then Hokey Pokey called the confectioner, who came out from behind the screen and thanked him warmly; he also bade him choose anything he liked in the shop, in payment for his services. “Can you match this?” asked Hokey Pokey, showing his round ball of bread. “That can I!” said the confectioner; and he brought out a most beautiful ball, twice as large as the loaf, composed of the finest sweetmeats in the world, red and yellow and white. Hokey Pokey took it with many thanks, and then went on his way. The next day he came to a third village, in the streets of which the people were all running to and fro in the wildest confusion. “What is the matter?” asked Hokey Pokey, as one man ran directly into his arms. “Alas!” replied the man. “A wild bull has got into the principal china-shop, and is breaking all the beautiful dishes.” “Why do you not drive him out?” asked Hokey Pokey. “We are afraid to do that,” said the man; “but we are running up and down to express our emotion and sympathy, and that is something.” “Show me the china-shop!” said Hokey Pokey.