nd the glory of the Greedy Kingdom.

But the next day, even he, the very last, appeared no more. The
unfortunate Patapouf had succumbed, and, like all the other
inhabitants of the country, was in a very bad way. In short, it was
soon known that the whole town had suffered agonies that night from
too much tart. Let us draw a veil over those hours of torture. Mother
Mitchel was in despair. Those ministers who had not guessed the secret
dared not open their lips. All the city was one vast hospital. No one
was seen in the streets but doctors and apothecaries' boys, running
from house to house in frantic haste. It was dreadful! Doctor
Olibriers was nearly knocked out. As for the King, he held his tongue
and shut himself up in his palace, but a secret joy shone in his eyes,
to the wonder of every one. He waited three days without a word.

The third day, the King said to his ministers:

"Let us go now and see how my poor people are doing, and feel their
pulse a little."

The good King went to every house, without forgetting a single one. He
visited small and great, rich and poor.

"Oh, oh! Your Majesty," said all, "the tart was good, but may we never
see it again! Plague on that tart! Better were dry bread. Your
Majesty, for mercy's sake, a little dry bread! Oh, a morsel of dry
bread, how good it would be!"

"No, indeed," replied the King. "_There is more of that tart!_"

"What! Your Majesty, _must_ we eat it all?"

"You _must_!" sternly replied the King; "you _MUST_! By the immortal
beefsteaks! not one of you shall have a slice of bread, and not a loaf
shall be baked in the kingdom while there remains a crumb of that
excellent tart!"

"What misery!" thought these poor people. "That tart forever!"

The sufferers were in despair. There was only one cry through all the
town: "Ow! ow! ow!" For even the strongest and most courageous were in
horrible agonies. They twisted, they writhed, they lay down, they got
up. Always the inexorable colic. The dogs were not happier than their
masters; even they had too much tart.

The spiteful tart looked in at all the windows. Built upon a height,
it commanded the town. The mere sight of it made everybody ill, and
its former admirers had nothing but curses for it now. Unhappily,
nothing they could say or do made it any smaller; still formidable, it
was a frightful joke for those miserable mortals. Most of them buried
their heads in their pillows, drew their nightcaps over their eye