blunt way: "Much obliged."

"But, before you go," continued his Majesty, "tell me what you think of
my royal person. Am I not beautiful?"

"You are, indeed," replied Twinkle; "only--"

"Only what?" asked the King, as she hesitated.

"Only I'm sorry you are so vain, and strut around so, and want everyone
to see how beautiful you are."

"Why should I not? Is not vanity one of the great virtues?" asked the
King, in a surprised voice.

"My mama says people ought not to think themselves nice, or pretty,"
said the child. "With us, to be vain is a fault, and we are taught to
be modest and unassuming."

"How remarkable!" exclaimed the King. "And how very thoughtless your
mother must be. Here we think that if God creates us beautiful it is a
sin not to glory in His work, and make everyone acknowledge the kindly
skill of the Supreme Maker's hand. Should I try to make others think,
or should I myself think, that I am not most gracefully formed and most
gorgeously clothed, I would be guilty of the sin of not appreciating
the favor of God, and deserve to be punished."

Twinkle was amazed, but could find no words to contradict this
astonishing idea.

"I had not thought of it in that way," she answered. "Perhaps I am
wrong, your Majesty; and certainly you are very beautiful."

"Think it over," said the King, graciously. "Learn to be grateful for
every good thing that is yours, and proud that you have been selected
by Nature for adornment. Only in this way may such rare favors be
deserved. And now the royal Messenger will show you the sights of our
Paradise, and try to entertain you pleasantly while you are our
guests."

He turned aside, with these words, and fluttered his waving feathers so
that their changing tints might dazzle the eyes of all observers. But
immediately afterward he paused and cried out:

"Dear me! One of my wing plumes is disarranged. Help me, you ladies!"

At once the small brown birds on the lower branches, who had been
modestly quiet because they had no gay plumage, flew up to the King and
with their bills skillfully dressed his feathers, putting the wing
plume into its place again and arranging it properly, while the other
birds looked on with evident interest.

As the lark-children turned away to follow the Messenger Chubbins
remarked:

"I'm glad _I_ haven't got all those giddy feathers."

"Why?" asked Twinkle, who had been rather awed by the King's splendor.

"Because it would take all my