heir
gratitude with cries so stifled that they resembled grunts, and then
rushed to the river. Never had a nation been so besmeared. Some were
daubed to the eyes, others had their ears and hair all sticky. As for
the little ones, they were marmalade from head to foot. When they had
finished their toilets, the river ran all red and yellow and was
sweetened for several hours, to the great surprise of all the fishes.

Before returning home, the people presented themselves before the King
to receive his commands.

"Children!" said he, "the feast will begin again exactly at six
o'clock. Give time to wash the dishes and change the tablecloths, and
you may once more give yourselves over to pleasure. You shall feast
twice a day as long as the tart lasts. Do not forget. Yes! if there is
not enough in this one, I will even order ANOTHER from Mother Mitchel;
for you know that great woman is indefatigable. Your happiness is my
only aim." (Marks of universal joy and emotion.) "You understand?
Noon, and six o'clock! There is no need for me to say be punctual! Go,
then, my children--be happy!"

The second feast was as gay as the first, and as long. A pleasant walk
in the suburbs--first exercise--then a nap, had refreshed their
appetites and unlimbered their jaws. But the King fancied that the
breach made in the tart was a little smaller than that of the morning.

"'Tis well!" said he, "'tis well! Wait till to-morrow, my friends;
yes, till day after to-morrow, and _next week_!"

The next day the feast still went on gayly; yet at the evening meal
the King noticed some empty seats.

"Why is this?" said he, with pretended indifference, to the court
physician.

"Your Majesty," said the great Olibriers, "a few weak stomachs; that
is all."

On the next day there were larger empty spaces. The enthusiasm visibly
abated. The eighth day the crowd had diminished one half; the ninth,
three quarters; the tenth day, of the thousand who came at first, only
two hundred remained; on the eleventh day only one hundred; and on the
twelfth--alas! who would have thought it?--a single one answered to
the call. Truly he was big enough. His body resembled a hogshead, his
mouth an oven, and his lips--we dare not say what. He was known in the
town by the name of Patapouf. They dug out a fresh lump for him from
the middle of the tart. It quickly vanished in his vast interior, and
he retired with great dignity, proud to maintain the honour of his
name a