nd when Lionel came in they bowed very low, and
were beginning to ask Lionel most politely what on earth he was coming
bothering for now--when Lionel cried out: "Oh, what a worldful of books!
Are they yours?"

"They are yours, Your Majesty," answered the Chancellor. "They were the
property of the late King, your great-great--"

"Yes, I know," Lionel interrupted. "Well, I shall read them all. I love
to read. I am so glad I learned to read."

"If I might venture to advise Your Majesty," said the Prime Minister, "I
should not read these books. Your great--"

"Yes?" said Lionel, quickly.

"He was a very good King--oh, yes, really a very superior King in his
way, but he was a little--well, strange."

"Mad?" asked Lionel, cheerfully.

"No, no"--both the gentlemen were sincerely shocked. "Not mad; but if I
may express it so, he was--er--too clever by half. And I should not like
a little King of mine to have anything to do with his books."

Lionel looked puzzled.

"The fact is," the Chancellor went on, twisting his red beard in an
agitated way, "your great--"

"Go on," said Lionel.

"--was called a wizard."

"But he wasn't?"

"Of course not--a most worthy King was your great--"

"I see."

"But I wouldn't touch his books."

"Just this one," cried Lionel, laying his hands on the cover of a great
brown book that lay on the study table. It had gold patterns on the
brown leather, and gold clasps with turquoises and rubies in the twists
of them, and gold corners, so that the leather should not wear out too
quickly.

"I must look at this one," Lionel said, for on the back in big letters
he read: _The Book of Beasts_.

The Chancellor said, "Don't be a silly little King."

But Lionel had got the gold clasps undone, and he opened the first page,
and there was a beautiful Butterfly all red, and brown, and yellow, and
blue, so beautifully painted that it looked as if it were alive.

"There," said Lionel, "Isn't that lovely? Why--"

But as he spoke the beautiful Butterfly fluttered its many-colored wings
on the yellow old page of the book, and flew up and out of the window.

"Well!" said the Prime Minister, as soon as he could speak for the lump
of wonder that had got into his throat and tried to choke him, "that's
magic, that is."

But before he had spoken, the King had turned the next page, and there
was a shining bird complete and beautiful in every blue feather of him.
Under him was written, "Blue Bird of