hey ever returned to the
Kingdom of Rinkitink or not. Bilbil the goat wandered over the grassy
slopes, or among the trees, and passed his days exactly as he pleased.
His master seldom cared to ride him. Bilbil was a rare curiosity to the
islanders, but since there was little pleasure in talking with the goat
they kept away from him. This pleased the creature, who seemed well
satisfied to be left to his own devices.

Once Prince Inga, wishing to be courteous, walked up to the goat and
said: "Good morning, Bilbil."

"It isn't a good morning," answered Bilbil grumpily. "It is cloudy and
damp, and looks like rain."

"I hope you are contented in our kingdom," continued the boy, politely
ignoring the other's harsh words.

"I'm not," said Bilbil. "I'm never contented; so it doesn't matter to
me whether I'm in your kingdom or in some other kingdom. Go away--will
you?"

"Certainly," answered the Prince, and after this rebuff he did not
again try to make friends with Bilbil.

Now that the King, his father, was so much occupied with his royal
guest, Inga was often left to amuse himself, for a boy could not be
allowed to take part in the conversation of two great monarchs. He
devoted himself to his studies, therefore, and day after day he climbed
into the branches of his favorite tree and sat for hours in his
"tree-top rest," reading his father's precious manuscripts and thinking
upon what he read.

You must not think that Inga was a molly-coddle or a prig, because he
was so solemn and studious. Being a King's son and heir to a throne, he
could not play with the other boys of Pingaree, and he lived so much in
the society of the King and Queen, and was so surrounded by the pomp
and dignity of a court, that he missed all the jolly times that boys
usually have. I have no doubt that had he been able to live as other
boys do, he would have been much like other boys; as it was, he was
subdued by his surroundings, and more grave and thoughtful than one of
his years should be.

Inga was in his tree one morning when, without warning, a great fog
enveloped the Island of Pingaree. The boy could scarcely see the tree
next to that in which he sat, but the leaves above him prevented the
dampness from wetting him, so he curled himself up in his seat and fell
fast asleep.

All that forenoon the fog continued. King Kitticut, who sat in his
palace talking with his merry visitor, ordered the candles lighted,
that they might be able to se