food, their favourite diet, he believed,
being earth.

"Revolting!" was her comment. "No wonder they look so unwell! Still,
their living cannot cost much, so I should think, Sidney, if we gave
the--er--foreman a gold piece to be divided amongst them, that would be
amply sufficient."

King Sidney thereupon presented a ducat to the most important-looking
Gnome, who immediately let it drop indifferently.

"Wonder why he did that?" said the King. "Doesn't he think it's enough?"

"Knows too much about how it's made, I expect," said Clarence. "Like the
chap at the Marmalade factory."

"Well, it's a pity to waste it," said his father, picking up the coin.
"I should like to see them at work before we go."

His wish having been conveyed to the Head Gnome, the whole band rushed,
yelping and screeching, back into the galleries, seized their picks, and
began hacking at the gold which gleamed in veins of incredible richness
through the rocky walls and roof of the caves. But perhaps their efforts
would have been more effective if they had not been quite so apt to get
in one another's way.

The visitors then inspected the furnace where the ore was melted, and
the Mint where it was stamped into big fat coins. These were put up in
sacks for transmission to the Royal Treasury, but, as a fresh batch had
been delivered only recently, the supply in hand at the Mint was not
very large just then.

"I _did_ like those Gnomes!" said Princess Ruby on the way home. "Didn't
_you_, Mummy?"

"I should have liked them better, my dear, if they had been more like
fellow-Christians. Sidney, I shall _insist_ on their wearing some
civilised costume."

"By all means, my love, if we continue to employ them. But I rather
think it would be better to get rid of them altogether."

"Get _rid_ of them, Sidney? What in the world _for_?"

"Well, you see, my dear, at the last General Election I took a somewhat
prominent part in denouncing the Conservatives for employing Chinese
labour in the South African mines. It would be very awkward if people at
Gablehurst found out that our entire income was derived
from--er--'Yellow Slavery.'"

"Stuff and nonsense, Sidney! Who do you suppose is likely to _tell_
them?"

"You never know how things get about," he said uneasily. "And, as a
consistent Radical, it--it goes against my conscience."

"Conscience, indeed! My dear good Sidney, if you go and get rid of those
Gnomes, who seem perfectly happy and conten