The Court Poet, who was a very curious-looking man, was dressed in a tightly-fitting velvet costume with a deep lace collar, and wore his hair very long. He had most prominent eyes, which he rolled about in a grotesque way as he spoke. When thus called upon he arose, and tragically clutching his hair with one hand, he waved the other about frantically, while he began in a shrill voice:-- THE CAUSE OF DISMAY. ``"Oh, men of Zum, what shall we do? ```Our King has no successor; ``The Prince has vanished from our view, ```And--and-“= “Well, go on!” shouted several voices. ``"vanished from our view, ```And--and----“= repeated the Court Poet, turning very pale. “Why don’t you proceed?” inquired the Lord High Adjudicator. [Illustration: 0091] “I’m afraid I can’t find a rhyme for successor,” admitted the Court Poet, looking greatly confused. “Dear me! this is the second time this week you have failed in your rhyming,” exclaimed the Lord High Adjudicator impatiently. “It’s most annoying.” “It’s unbearable,” declared the Public Persecutor. “If he can’t do his work properly, we had better reduce his salary,” suggested the Busybody Extraordinary. “Hear, hear!” shouted several voices at once. “Oh, please don’t!” pleaded the Court Poet. “My stipend is very small as it is.” “Six pounds a year is a great deal more than you are worth!” declared the First Lord of the Cash Box emphatically. “So it is, so it is!” agreed the rest of the Committee. The poor Court Poet looked very crestfallen, while the two gentlemen sitting near him frowned at him severely, the Kitchen Poker in Waiting looking particularly disgusted. “Ahem! I should like to suggest,” said the Minister of Experiments, coughing importantly and standing up to address the meeting, “that instead of reducing his salary we should reduce his title, and that, instead of his being known as His Insignificance the Court Poet, he should in future be called His Absolute Nothingness the Public Rhymester.” This proposal seemed to find favour with the whole company, and, being put to the vote, was carried unanimously; and His Absolute Nothingness the Public Rhymester was told to sit down, which he did very meekly, looking half inclined to burst into tears. “Now then,” said the Lord Chief Adjudicator when this was all over, “we really must get to business; and as the Public Rhymester is not capable of setting forth ‘The Cause of Dismay’ in verse, as is the custom here, I must try and explain to you in prose. The facts, as you are aware, are as follows: Our late Sovereign, King Robert the Twentieth----King of Zum and Emperor of----” began the King’s Exaggerator, evidently intending to enumerate all of the late King’s titles; but he was forcibly prevented from doing so by the two gentlemen sitting next to him, one of whom held him down, while the other tied a handkerchief tightly over his mouth. The Lord High Adjudicator nodded approval and proceeded.