shapes, and besides these there were
several kitchen cabinets and cupboards and a few kitchen tables. These
things were crowded with utensils of all sorts: frying pans, sauce
pans, kettles, forks, knives, basting and soup spoons, nutmeg graters,
sifters, colanders, meat saws, flat irons, rolling pins and many other
things of a like nature.

When the Spoon Brigade appeared with the prisoners a wild shout arose
and many of the utensils hopped off their stoves or their benches and
ran crowding around Dorothy and the hen and the dog.

"Stand back!" cried the Captain, sternly, and he led his captives
through the curious throng until they came before a big range that
stood in the center of the clearing. Beside this range was a butcher
block upon which lay a great cleaver with a keen edge. It rested upon
the flat of its back, its legs were crossed and it was smoking a long
pipe.

"Wake up, your Majesty," said the Captain. "Here are prisoners."

Hearing this, King Kleaver sat up and looked at Dorothy sharply.

"Gristle and fat!" he cried. "Where did this girl come from?"

"I found her in the forest and brought her here a prisoner," replied
the Captain.

"Why did you do that?" inquired the King, puffing his pipe lazily.

"To create some excitement," the Captain answered. "It is so quiet
here that we are all getting rusty for want of amusement. For my part,
I prefer to see stirring times."

"Naturally," returned the cleaver, with a nod. "I have always said,
Captain, without a bit of irony, that you are a sterling officer and a
solid citizen, bowled and polished to a degree. But what do you expect
me to do with these prisoners?"

"That is for you to decide," declared the Captain. "You are the King."

"To be sure; to be sure," muttered the cleaver, musingly. "As you say,
we have had dull times since the steel and grindstone eloped and left
us. Command my Counselors and the Royal Courtiers to attend me, as
well as the High Priest and the Judge. We'll then decide what can be
done."

The Captain saluted and retired and Dorothy sat down on an overturned
kettle and asked:

"Have you anything to eat in your kingdom?"

"Here! Get up! Get off from me!" cried a faint voice, at which his
Majesty the cleaver said:

"Excuse me, but you're sitting on my friend the Ten-quart Kettle."

Dorothy at once arose, and the kettle turned right side up and looked
at her reproachfully.

"I'm a friend of the King, so no