umbled the goat.

"Quite impossible, dear Bilbil. You couldn't be more surly if you tried.
So here is a famous song for you."

While the boy rowed steadily on and the boat rushed fast over the water,
the jolly King, who never could be sad or serious for many minutes at a
time, lay back on his embroidered cushions and sang as follows:

"A merry maiden went to sea--
Sing too-ral-oo-ral-i-do!
She sat upon the Captain's knee

And looked around the sea to see
What she could see, but she couldn't see me--
Sing too-ral-oo-ral-i-do!"

"How do you like that, Bilbil?"

"I don't like it," complained the goat. "It reminds me of the alligator
that tried to whistle."

"Did he succeed, Bilbil?" asked the King.

"He whistled as well as you sing."

"Ha, ha, ha, ha, heek, keek, eek!" chuckled the King. "He must have
whistled most exquisitely, eh, my friend?"

"I am not your friend," returned the goat, wagging his ears in a surly
manner.

"I am yours, however," was the King's cheery reply; "and to prove it
I'll sing you another verse."

"Don't, I beg of you!"

But the King sang as follows:

"The wind blew off the maiden's shoe--
Sing too-ral-oo-ral-i-do!
And the shoe flew high to the sky so blue
And the maiden knew 'twas a new shoe, too;
But she couldn't pursue the shoe, 'tis true--
Sing too-ral-oo-ral-i-do!"

"Isn't that sweet, my pretty goat?"

"Sweet, do you ask?" retorted Bilbil. "I consider it as sweet as candy
made from mustard and vinegar."

"But not as sweet as your disposition, I admit. Ah, Bilbil, your temper
would put honey itself to shame."

"Do not quarrel, I beg of you," pleaded Inga. "Are we not sad enough
already?"

"But this is a jolly quarrel," said the King, "and it is the way Bilbil
and I often amuse ourselves. Listen, now, to the last verse of all:

The maid who shied her shoe now cried--
Sing too-ral-oo-ral-i-do!
Her tears were fried for the Captain's bride
Who ate with pride her sobs, beside,
And gently sighed 'I'm satisfied'--
Sing too-ral-oo-ral-i-do!"

"Worse and worse!" grumbled Bilbil, with much scorn. "I am glad that is
the last verse, for another of the same kind might cause me to faint."

"I fear you have no ear for music," said the King.

"I have heard no music, as yet," declared the goat. "You must have a
strong imagination, King Rinkitink, if you consider your songs music. Do
you remember the story of the bear that hired