hence, wine in moderation is good. But all things in excess are bad:
whence wine in excess is bad."

"Away with your logic and conic sections! Drink!--But no, no: I am too
severe. For of all meals a supper should be the most social and free.
And going thereto we kings, my lord, should lay aside our scepters.--
Do as you please Babbalanja."

"You are right, you are right, after all, my dear demi-god," said
Abrazza. "And to say truth, I seldom worry myself with the ways of
these mortals; for no thanks do we demi-gods get. We kings should be
ever indifferent. Nothing like a cold heart; warm ones are ever
chafing, and getting into trouble. I let my mortals here in this isle
take heed to themselves; only barring them out when they would thrust
in their petitions. This very instant, my lord, my yeoman-guard is on
duty without, to drive off intruders.--Hark!--what noise is that?--Ho,
who comes?"

At that instant, there burst into the hall, a crowd of
spearmen, driven before a pale, ragged rout, that loudly
invoked King Abrazza.

"Pardon, my lord king, for thus forcing an entrance! But long in vain
have we knocked at thy gates! Our grievances are more than we can
bear! Give ear to our spokesman, we beseech!"

And from their tumultuous midst, they pushed forward a tall, grim,
pine-tree of a fellow, who loomed up out of the throng, like the Peak
of Teneriffe among the Canaries in a storm.

"Drive the knaves out! Ho, cowards, guards, turn about! charge upon
them! Away with your grievances! Drive them out, I say, drive them
out!--High times, truly, my lord Media, when demi-gods are thus
annoyed at their wine. Oh, who would reign over mortals!"

So at last, with much difficulty, the ragged rout were ejected; the
Peak of Teneriffe going last, a pent storm on his brow; and muttering
about some black time that was corning.

While the hoarse murmurs without still echoed through the hall, King
Abrazza refilling his cup thus spoke:--"You were saying, my dear lord,
that of all meals a supper is the most social and free. Very true. And
of all suppers those given by us bachelor demi-gods are the best. Are
they not?"

"They are. For Benedict mortals must be home betimes: bachelor demi-
gods are never away."

"Ay, your Highnesses, bachelors are all the year round at home;" said
Mohi: "sitting out life in the chimney corner, cozy and warm as the
dog, whilome turning the old-fashioned roasting jack."

"And to us bachelor demi-gods