situation. His Prime Minister played
on the violin, his Secretary performed on the horn, while his Treasurer
was superb upon the great drum. Every time the Royal Council met, the
minutes of the last meeting, all set to music, were sung by the
Secretary; and when the King made a speech, he always sung it in a
magnificent bass voice, accompanied by a full orchestra. If any one
wished to present a petition, he was always sure of having it granted,
if he could but sing it excellently well, and even folks who were good
at whistling were favorably received at court. The example of the King
was followed by the people. They nearly always talked to some tune, and
every one but the very poorest owned an instrument.

So this mighty monarch never went to war, or cut off people's heads, or
married more than once; and as for building palaces, it was of no use,
for he had as many as he wanted, already. The last ten years of his life
were occupied, almost entirely, in the composition of a wonderful piece
of music, in which he sought, by means of perseverance and magic, to
combine all the beauties and difficulties of the science. He had
scarcely finished it, when he died; and it was generally supposed that
if he had not worked so hard at it, he would have lived much longer.

The composition was not long, for you could have sung it in ten minutes,
that is, if you could have sung it at all; which is by no means likely,
for had that been the case (and you had lived in those days) you might
have ruled over the country. For, just before the mighty King died, he
made a decree to this effect,--that his successor on the throne should
be the man, woman, or child who could, at sight, sing that piece of
music.

So the music was put up against a marble tablet in the great hall of the
royal palace, and there were six judges appointed,--the most
distinguished professors of music in the country,--and these sat on
great velvet chairs, three on each side of the music, and anybody might
come to try who chose.

You may well believe that the people came in crowds, for nearly every
one wished to be king or queen, as the case might be. This music had a
very singular effect upon most of those who did not succeed in singing
it. They nearly all went crazy. The first few notes were easy, and they
were so beautiful, that it was enough to make any one crazy to think
that they could not sing the rest of it,--not to mention missing the
crown. The Prime Minister