cause of right!' 'King Padella for ever!' Would I
not describe all this, I say, and in the very finest language too? But
this humble pen does not possess the skill necessary for the description
of combats. In a word, the overthrow of King Padella's army was so
complete, that if they had been Russians you could not have wished them
to be more utterly smashed and confounded.

As for that usurping monarch, having performed acts of velour much more
considerable than could be expected of a royal ruffian and usurper,
who had such a bad cause, and who was so cruel to women,--as for King
Padella, I say, when his army ran away, the King ran away too, kicking
his first general, Prince Punchikoff, from his saddle, and galloping
away on the Prince's horse, having, indeed, had twenty-five or
twenty-six of his own shot under him. Hedzoff coming up, and finding
Punchikoff down, as you may imagine, very speedily disposed of HIM.
Meanwhile King Padella was scampering off as hard as his horse could
lay legs to ground. Fast as he scampered, I promise you somebody else
galloped faster; and that individual, as no doubt you are aware, was the
Royal Giglio, who kept bawling out, 'Stay, traitor! Turn, miscreant, and
defend thyself! Stand, tyrant, coward, ruffian, royal wretch, till I cut
thy ugly head from thy usurping shoulders!' And, with his fairy sword,
which elongated itself at will, His Majesty kept poking and prodding
Padella in the back, until that wicked monarch roared with anguish.

When he was fairly brought to bay, Padella turned and dealt Prince
Giglio a prodigious crack over the sconce with his battle-axe, a most
enormous weapon, which had cut down I don't know how many regiments in
the course of the afternoon. But, Law bless you! though the blow fell
right down on His Majesty's helmet, it made no more impression than if
Padella had struck him with a pat of butter: his battle-axe crumpled up
in Padella's hand, and the Royal Giglio laughed for very scorn at the
impotent efforts of that atrocious usurper.

At the ill success of his blow the Crim Tartar monarch was justly
irritated. 'If,' says he to Giglio, 'you ride a fairy horse, and wear
fairy armour, what on earth is the use of my hitting you? I may as well
give myself up a prisoner at once. Your Majesty won't, I suppose, be so
mean as to strike a poor fellow who can't strike again?'

The justice of Padella's remark struck the magnanimous Giglio. 'Do you
yield yourself a pri