n to prevent the Prince's sneezing. As for the poor Court
Astrologer, he was hung up in the sacristy of the cathedral, and every
eight days his wife wound him up, with tears.

"What shall we do, doctor?" asked the King rather mournfully.

"The Prince must be preserved from the things which cause sneezing,"
said the doctor sagely.

"Such as draughts?" suggested the King.

"Draughts, head-colds, snuff, and pepper," answered the leech. "Let his
little highness be put into a special suite of rooms; admit no person to
them until he has been examined for head-cold, and has put on germ-proof
garments; and as his little highness grows older, forbid the use of
pepper in his food. Better still, if Your Majesty has a castle in the
mountains, let the Prince be taken there for the sake of the purer air."

"There is the tower on the Golden Mountain," said the King.

At this the Queen began to weep again, for she, quite naturally, did not
wish to part with her child.

"But, my dear, we can't have him sneezing, and things changing all the
time," said the King.

"I beg Your Majesty to consider the danger of a head-cold," put in the
doctor.

"Yes, think of the danger of a head-cold," echoed the King, who saw
clearer than the Queen the chaos that might result if the Prince was
attacked by a prolonged fit of sneezing. "People with head-colds may
sneeze ten or fifteen times a day."

"Or fifty," said the doctor.

"Or fifty," echoed the King again, shaking his head, for he was torn
between paternal love and kingly duty. "Imagine fifty enchantments in a
day! By eventide the whole kingdom would be upset, undone, and the
people plotting a revolution."

"The tower on the Golden Mountain is in a fine healthful locality," said
the doctor, "and the Prince could be brought up as happily there as in
the palace."

So at length the Queen consented. In a few days the little Prince, who
had not sneezed a second time, was removed to the tower on the Golden
Mountain. His room, designed by Doctor Pill, was completely protected
from draughts, and every breath of air that entered it was
tri-bi-sterilized. Mrs. Pill, who had been a hospital nurse, took care
of him. Three times a week, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, his
royal parents rode out to the tower, and after putting on germ-proof
garments, were admitted to the nursery of their infant son.

And so the years went by. Nobody was found able to break Malvolia's
spell, and the clue to i