uman gravity, that Hum-Drum and
Kopy-Keck agreed in recommending the king to bury her alive for three
years; in the hope that, as the water did her so much good, the earth
would do her yet more. But the king had some vulgar prejudices against
the experiment, and would not give his consent. Foiled in this, they
yet agreed in another recommendation; which, seeing that the one
imported his opinions from China and the other from Thibet, was very
remarkable indeed. They argued that, if water of external origin and
application could be so efficacious, water from a deeper source might
work a perfect cure; in short, that if the poor afflicted princess
could by any means be made to cry, she might recover her lost gravity.

But how was this to be brought about? Therein lay all the
difficulty--to meet which the philosophers were not wise enough. To
make the princess cry was as impossible as to make her weigh. They sent
for a professional beggar; commanded him to prepare his most touching
oracle of woe; helped him, out of the court charade-box, to whatever he
wanted for dressing up, and promised great rewards in the event of his
success. But it was all in vain. She listened to the mendicant artist's
story, and gazed at his marvellous make-up, till she could contain
herself no longer, and went into the most undignified contortions for
relief, shrieking, positively screeching with laughter.

When she had a little recovered herself, she ordered her attendants to
drive him away, and not give him a single copper; whereupon his look of
mortified discomfiture wrought her punishment and his revenge, for it
sent her into violent hysterics, from which she was with difficulty
recovered.

But so anxious was the king that the suggestion should have a fair
trial, that he put himself in a rage one day, and, rushing up to her
room, gave her an awful whipping. Yet not a tear would flow. She looked
grave, and her laughing sounded uncommonly like screaming--that was
all. The good old tyrant, though he put on his best gold spectacles to
look, could not discover the smallest cloud in the serene blue of her
eyes.

IX. PUT ME IN AGAIN.

It must have been about this time that the son of a king, who lived a
thousand miles from Lagobel, set out to look for the daughter of a
queen. He travelled far and wide, but as sure as he found a princess,
he found some fault in her. Of course he could not marry a mere woman,
however beautiful; and ther