e of me, then?" he
asked. "Am I to be patched, or what?"

"You won't be hurt," answered the girl, "but you'll have to find some
other place to stay besides this palace, an' perhaps you'll enjoy
workin' for a livin' by way of variety."

"Can't I take any of the treasure with me?" he pleaded.

"Not even a bird cage," said she. "Ever'thing in the palace now belongs
to Ghip-Ghisizzle."

"Except the Six Snubnosed Princesses," exclaimed the new Boolooroo
earnestly. "Won't you please get rid of them, too, your Majesty? Can't
they be discharged?"

"Of course," said Trot. "They must go with their dear father an'
mother. Isn't there some house in the City they can all live in, Ghip?"

"Why, I own a little cabin at the end of the town," said
Ghip-Ghisizzle, "and I'll let them use that, as I won't need it any
longer. It isn't a very pretty cabin, and the furniture is cheap and
common, but I'm sure it is good enough for this wicked man and his
family."

"I'll not be wicked any more," sighed the old Boolooroo. "I'll reform.
It's always best to reform when it is no longer safe to remain wicked.
As a private citizen, I shall be a model of deportment, because it
would be dangerous to be otherwise."

Trot now sent for the Princesses, who had been weeping and wailing and
fighting among themselves ever since they learned that their father had
been conquered. When first they entered the throne room, they tried to
be as haughty and scornful as ever, but the Blues who were assembled
there all laughed at them and jeered them, for there was not a single
person in all the Blue Country who loved the Princesses the least
little bit.

Trot told the girls that they must go with their father to live in
Ghip-Ghisizzle's little old cabin, and when they heard this dreadful
decree, the six snubnosed ones began to scream and have hysterics, and
between them they managed to make so much noise that no one could hear
anything else. So Ghip-Ghisizzle ordered the Captain to take a file of
soldiers and escort the raving beauties to their new home.

This was done, the once-royal family departing from the palace with
shamed and downcast looks. Then the Room of the Great Knife was cleared
of its awful furniture. The frames were split into small pieces of
bluewood and the benches chopped into kindling and the immense sharp
knife broken into bits. All the rubbish was piled into the square
before the palace and a bonfire made of it, while the Blue people