y would it not be better to keep an army in time of peace than to
be compelled to create one in time of war?"

"Ug is rich," he replied; "we do not have to consider matters of economy.
There is among our people a strong and instinctive distrust of a standing
army."

"What are they afraid of," I asked--what do they fear that it will do?"

"It is not what the army may do," answered the great man, "but what it may
prevent others from doing. You must know that we have in this land a thing
known as Industrial Discontent."

"Ah, I see," I exclaimed, interrupting--"the industrial classes fear that
the army may destroy, or at least subdue, their discontent."

The Prime Minister reflected profoundly, standing the while, in order that
he might assist his faculties by scratching himself, even as we, when
thinking, scratch our heads.

"No," he said presently; "I don't think that is quite what they
apprehend--they and the writers and statesmen who speak for them. As I
said before, what is feared in a case of industrial discontent is the
army's preventive power. But I am myself uncertain what it is that these
good souls dislike to have the army prevent. I shall take the customary
means to learn."

Having occasion on the next day to enter the great audience hall of the
palace I observed in gigantic letters running across the entire side
opposite the entrance this surprising inscription:

"In a strike, what do you fear that the army will prevent which ought to
be done?"

Facing the entrance sat Grumsquutzy, in his robes of office and surrounded
by an armed guard. At a little distance stood two great black slaves, each
bearing a scourge of thongs. All about them the floor was slippery with
blood. While I wondered at all this two policemen entered, having between
them one whom I recognized as a professional Friend of the People, a great
orator, keenly concerned for the interests of Labor. Shown the inscription
and unable or unwilling to answer, he was given over to the two blacks
and, being stripped to the skin, was beaten with the whips until he bled
copiously and his cries resounded through the palace. His ears were then
shorn away and he was thrown into the street. Another Friend of the People
was brought in, and treated in the same way; and the inquiry was
continued, day after day, until all had been interrogated. But Grumsquutzy
got no answer.

A most extraordinary and interesting custom of the Uggards is called the
_Nag