ned unmoved.

"He's missit the globe," muttered one of the attendants; "I've aye
tellt him to keep his eye furrmer on the ball."

Four times His Majesty, whose good humour was now entirely gone,
repeated the operation with similar results. At last he hurled his
club to the ground, breaking it into splinters, and addressed his
immovable ball in strong terms.

"Allow me, Your Majesty," said _Mr. Punch_, as he stepped airily
forward and selected the king's best driver from the heap of clubs
carried by the chief caddie, "I think I know how this ought to be
done," and without a moment's hesitation he delivered his stroke. The
ball flew true and far until it was merely a speck in the air, and
finally dropped down about a quarter of a mile away. "You will find
it in the hole," said the Golfer of Golfers, carelessly turning to the
discomfited King; "Oh, my Royal and Ancient One," he continued, "there
are certain things we do better in another country, and Golf is one of
them."

But at this moment a great commotion arose. A messenger on a foaming
steed dashed up, and handed a despatch to the king, who at once read
it.

"Dear me!" said His Majesty, "this is most annoying. The Emperor of
BARATARIA is to arrive in half an hour. He's a bit of a young prig,
and bores me dreadfully--but we must meet him." With that he retired
at once to the nearest palace, to change his uniform. In about ten
minutes he came forth a changed man. On his head glittered an immense
helmet, with a waving plume; a tunic of gold lace was buttoned tightly
round his chest. Row upon row of stars and medals encircled him like
so many belts; his legs were hidden in an enormous pair of jack-boots,
to which were fixed a pair of huge Mexican spurs. An immense sword
dangled at his side.

"This," said the King, as he motioned _Mr. Punch_ and Father TIME into
his state carriage, and vaulted in after them with as much agility as
his sword and boots would permit, "is the uniform of the Baratarian
Die-hards, of which regiment I am honorary Colonel."

Thus they drove to the balloon station, at which the Imperial guest
was expected. After a few minutes, a sound of cheering was heard.

"He's coming," observed the King. "Have I got my kissing face on?"

_Mr. Punch_ reassured him. A moment afterwards the state-balloon
of BARATARIA soared up to the platform, and a young man, gorgeously
attired in the uniform of the Tenth (Jupiter's Own) Lancers, sprang
lightly from i