itink soothingly; "don't scold, my
boy. Remember that these are strangers, and we their guests." Then he
turned to Kitticut and remarked: "You have no talking goats on your
island, I suppose."

"We have no goats at all," replied the King; "nor have we any animals,
of any sort, who are able to talk."

"I wish my animal couldn't talk, either," said Rinkitink, winking
comically at Inga and then looking toward the cage. "He is very cross at
times, and indulges in language that is not respectful. I thought, at
first, it would be fine to have a talking goat, with whom I could
converse as I rode about my city on his back; but--keek-eek-eek-eek!--the
rascal treats me as if I were a chimney sweep instead of a King. Heh, heh,
heh, keek, eek! A chimney sweep--hoo, hoo, hoo!--and me a King! Funny,
isn't it?" This last was addressed to Prince Inga, whom he chucked
familiarly under the chin, to the boy's great embarrassment.

"Why do you not ride a horse?" asked King Kitticut.

"I can't climb upon his back, being rather stout; that's why. Kee, kee,
keek, eek!--rather stout--hoo, hoo, hoo!" He paused to wipe the tears
of merriment from his eyes and then added: "But I can get on and off
Bilbil's back with ease."

He now opened the cage and the goat deliberately walked out and looked
about him in a sulky manner. One of the rowers brought from the boat a
saddle made of red velvet and beautifully embroidered with silver
thistles, which he fastened upon the goat's back. The fat King put his
leg over the saddle and seated himself comfortably, saying:

"Lead on, my noble host, and we will follow."

"What! Up that steep hill?" cried the goat. "Get off my back at once,
Rinkitink, or I won't budge a step."

"But--consider, Bilbil," remonstrated the King. "How am I to get up that
hill unless I ride?"

"Walk!" growled Bilbil.

"But I'm too fat. Really, Bilbil, I'm surprised at you. Haven't I
brought you all this distance so you may see something of the world and
enjoy life? And now you are so ungrateful as to refuse to carry me! Turn
about is fair play, my boy. The boat carried you to this shore, because
you can't swim, and now you must carry me up the hill, because I can't
climb. Eh, Bilbil, isn't that reasonable?"

"Well, well, well," said the goat, surlily, "keep quiet and I'll carry
you. But you make me very tired, Rinkitink, with your ceaseless
chatter."

After making this protest Bilbil began walking up the hill, carrying the