y went. In this way the King's line
of followers, which, of course, lengthened out every time he took a
walk, came to be arranged in long loops through many parts of the
city and suburbs.
Many of the things the King saw showed plainly the mingled sentiments
of the people. For instance, he would one day visit a great smith's
shop, where heavy masses of iron were being forged, the whole place
resounding with tremendous blows from heavy hammers, and the clank
and din of iron on the anvils; while the next day he would find the
place transformed into a studio, where the former blacksmith was
painting dainty little pictures on the delicate surface of
egg-shells. The king of the country, in his treatment of his visitor,
showed his peculiar nature very plainly. Sometimes he would receive
him with enthusiastic delight, while at others he would upbraid him
with having left his dominions to go wandering around the earth in
this senseless way. One day his host invited him to attend a royal
dinner, but, when he went to the grand dining-hall, pleased with
anticipations of a splendid feast, he found that the sentiments of
his majesty had become mingled, and that he had determined, instead
of having a dinner, to conduct the funeral services of one of his
servants who had died the day before. All the guests were obliged by
politeness to remain during the ceremonies, which our King, not
having been acquainted with the deceased servant, had not found at
all interesting.
"Now," said the King to the Sphinx, "I am in favor of moving on. I am
tired of this place, where every sentiment is so mingled with others
that you can never tell what anybody really thinks or feels. I don't
believe any one in this country was ever truly glad or sorry. They
mix one sentiment so quickly with another that they never can
discover the actual ingredients of any of their impulses."
"When this King first began to mingle his sentiments," said the
Sphinx, "it was because he always desired to think and feel exactly
right. He did not wish his feelings to run too much one way or the
other."
"And so he is never either right or wrong," said the King. "I don't
like that, at all. I want to be one thing or the other."
"I have wasted a good deal of time at this place," remarked the King,
as they walked on, "and I have seen and heard nothing which I wish to
teach my people. But I must find out some way to prevent every thing
going wrong in my kingdom. I have trie
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