g they were in
serious straits and at the mercy of a cruel mistress. Inga had taken
counsel of the White Pearl, which had advised him to bear up bravely
under his misfortune, promising a change for the better very soon. With
this promise to comfort him, Inga faced the Queen with a dignified
bearing that indicated both pride and courage.

"Well, youngster," said she, in a cheerful tone because she was pleased
with her success, "you played a clever trick on my poor husband and
frightened him badly, but for that prank I am inclined to forgive you.
Hereafter I intend you to be my page, which means that you must fetch
and carry for me at my will. And let me advise you to obey my every whim
without question or delay, for when I am angry I become ugly, and when I
am ugly someone is sure to feel the lash. Do you understand me?"

Inga bowed, but made no answer. Then she turned to Rinkitink and said:

"As for you, I cannot decide how to make you useful to me, as you are
altogether too fat and awkward to work in the fields. It may be,
however, that I can use you as a pincushion."

"What!" cried Rinkitink in horror, "would you stick pins into the King
of Gilgad?"

"Why not?" returned Queen Cor. "You are as fat as a pincushion, as you
must yourself admit, and whenever I needed a pin I could call you to
me." Then she laughed at his frightened look and asked: "By the way, are
you ticklish?"

This was the question Rinkitink had been dreading. He gave a moan of
despair and shook his head.

"I should love to tickle the bottom of your feet with a feather,"
continued the cruel woman. "Please take off your shoes."

"Oh, your Majesty!" pleaded poor Rinkitink, "I beg you to allow me to
amuse you in some other way. I can dance, or I can sing you a song."

"Well," she answered, shaking with laughter, "you may sing a song--if it
be a merry one. But you do not seem in a merry mood."

"I _feel_ merry--indeed, Your Majesty, I do!" protested Rinkitink,
anxious to escape the tickling. But even as he professed to "feel merry"
his round, red face wore an expression of horror and anxiety that was
really comical.

"Sing, then!" commanded Queen Cor, who was greatly amused.

Rinkitink gave a sigh of relief and after clearing his throat and trying
to repress his sobs he began to sing this song--gently, at first, but
finally roaring it out at the top of his voice:

"Oh!
There was a Baby Tiger lived in a men-ag-er-ie--
Fizzy-fezzy