way again, nor the great poem
unwritten. The latter step, especially, was not to be thought of; for a
leading firm of publishers were just about to issue an _edition de luxe_
of the poem with sumptuous illustrations, engraved on diamond, from the
pencil of an eminent R.A. who had become a classic and forgotten how to
draw. (His name, however, could still draw: so he left the matter to
that.)

[Illustration]

Well, everybody, except a few newspapers, said nothing about the King's
part in the affair; but the warmest eulogies were passed on the Prime
Minister by the papers of his political persuasion, and by the public in
general. The Prime Minister was now the most wonderful person in
existence; and a great public testimonial was got up for him in the
shape of a wreath cut out of a single ruby; the colonies got up a
millennial exhibition in his honour, at which the chief exhibits were
his cast-off clothes, a lock of his hair, a bad sixpence he had passed,
and other relics. He was invited everywhere at once; and it became the
fashion for ladies to send him a slice of bread and butter to take a
bite out of, and subsequently frame the slice with the piece bitten out,
or wear it on State occasions as a necklace pendant. At length the King
felt himself, with many wry faces, compelled to make the Prime Minister
a K.C.B., a K.G., and other typographical combinations, together with an
earl, and subsequently a duke.

[Illustration]

So the Prime Minister retired luxuriously to the Upper House and sat in
a nice armchair, with his feet on another, instead of on a hard bench.

[Illustration]

Then it suddenly came out that the Idea was not the Prime Minister's
either, but had been evolved by his Private Secretary. This was another
shock to the nation. It was suggested by one low-class newspaper
conspicuous for bad taste that the Prime Minister should resign the
dukedom and the capital letters and the ruby wreath, seeing that he had
obtained them on false pretences; but he did not seem to see his way to
do these things: on the contrary, he very incisively asked what would be
the use of a man's becoming Prime Minister if it was only to resign
things to which he had no right. Still, he did the handsome thing: he
presented an autograph portrait of himself to the Secretary, together
with a new L5 note, as a recognition of any inconvenience he might have
suffered in consequence of the mistake.

[Illustration]

Now, too, there wa