“But Doctor,” said Polynesia as we prepared to go back to the town, “you ought to take a holiday. All Kings take holidays once in the while—every one of them. King Charles, for instance—of course Charles was before your time—but he!—why, he was _always_ holiday-making. Not that he was ever what you would call a model king. But just the same, he was frightfully popular. Everybody liked him—even the golden-carp in the fish-pond at Hampton Court. As a king, the only thing I had against him was his inventing those stupid, little, snappy dogs they call King Charles Spaniels. There are lots of stories told about poor Charles; but that, in my opinion, is the worst thing he did. However, all this is beside the point. As I was saying, kings have to take holidays the same as anybody else. And you haven’t taken one since you were crowned, have you now?” “No,” said the Doctor, “I suppose that’s true.” “Well now I tell you what you do,” said she: “as soon as you get back to the palace you publish a royal proclamation that you are going away for a week into the country for your health. And you’re going _without any servants_, you understand—just like a plain person. It’s called traveling incognito, when kings go off like that. They all do it—It’s the only way they can ever have a good time. Then the week you’re away you can spend lolling on the beach back there with the snail. How’s that?” “I’d like to,” said the Doctor. “It sounds most attractive. But there’s that new theatre to be built; none of our carpenters would know how to get those rafters on without me to show them—And then there are the babies: these native mothers are so frightfully ignorant.” “Oh bother the theatre—and the babies too,” snapped Polynesia. “The theatre can wait a week. And as for babies, they never have anything more than colic. How do you suppose babies got along before you came here, for heaven’s sake?—Take a holiday.... You need it.” _THE SIXTH CHAPTER_ THE LAST CABINET MEETING FROM the way Polynesia talked, I guessed that this idea of a holiday was part of her plan. The Doctor made no reply; and we walked on silently towards the town. I could see, nevertheless that her words had made an impression on him. After supper he disappeared from the palace without saying where he was going—a thing he had never done before. Of course we all knew where he had gone: back to the beach to sit up with the snail. We were sure of it because he had said nothing to Bumpo about attending to the matter. As soon as the doors were closed upon the Cabinet Meeting that night, Polynesia addressed the Ministry: “Look here, you fellows,” said she: “we’ve simply got to get the Doctor to take this holiday somehow—unless we’re willing to stay in this blessed island for the rest of our lives.” “But what difference,” Bumpo asked, “is his taking a holiday going to make?” Impatiently Polynesia turned upon the Minister of the Interior.