matter, and Happy Toko did his utmost to cheer up his royal
master. The second morning after the great victory, he came running
into the silver throne room in a great state of excitement.

"The honorable Offspring have arriven!" announced Happy, turning a
somersault. "Come, ancient and amiable Sir, and gaze upon your sons
and grandsons!" The Scarecrow sprang joyously from his silver throne,
upsetting a bowl of silver fish and three silver vases. At last a
real family! Ever since his arrival, the three Princes and their
fifteen little sons had been cruising on the royal pleasure barge, so
that the Scarecrow had not caught a glimpse of them.

"This is the happiest moment of my life!" he exclaimed, clasping his
yellow gloves and watching the door intently. Happy looked a little
uneasy, for he knew the three Princes to be exceedingly haughty and
overbearing, but he said nothing, and next minute the Scarecrow's
family stepped solemnly into the royal presence.

"Children!" cried the Scarecrow, and with his usual impetuousness
rushed forward and flung his arms around the first richly clad
Prince.

"Take care! Take care, ancient and honorable papa!" cried the young
Silverman, backing away. "Such excitement is not good for one of your
advanced years." He drew himself away firmly and, adjusting a huge
pair of silver spectacles, regarded the Scarecrow attentively. "Ah,
how you have changed!"

"He looks very feeble, Too Fang, but may he live long to rule this
flowery island and our humble selves!" said the second Prince, bowing
stiffly.

"Do you not find the affairs of state fatiguing, darling papa?"
inquired the third Prince, fingering a jeweled chain that hung around
his neck.

"I, as your eldest son, shall be delighted to relieve you should you
wish to retire. Get back ten paces, you!" he roared at Happy Toko.

The poor Scarecrow had been so taken aback by this cool reception
that he just stared in disbelief.

"If the three honorable Princes will retire themselves, I will speak
with my grandsons," he said dryly, bowing in his most royal manner.
The three Princes exchanged startled glances. Then, with three low
salaams, they retired backward from the hall.

"And now, my dears--!" The Scarecrow looked wistfully at his fifteen
silken-clad little grandsons. Their silver hair, plaited tightly
into little queues, stood out stiffly on each side of their heads and
gave them a very curious appearance. At his first word, the