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"I have heard," replied the Prince, "that every cat has nine lives, so I should think that there must be eighty-one lives here."
"You'd be wrong, then," said the Wizard, "for some of these cats have only one or two lives left. I keep 'em, you understand, so that when folks lose their lives, all they have to do is to come to me and I can sell them new ones from the cats."
"Do the cats like it?" asked Vance.
"They don't mind," replied the Wizard. "Anyhow, they know they've all got to come to it. When the last life is gone, a cat turns into a wind; you've heard them of a March night, yowling about the castle turrets."
"The moon," said the witch, speaking for the first time, "being probably if not otherwise added to this whose salt, magnifying."
"You are right, my dear," said the Wizard, "as you always are. The boy _is_ better off in bed."
Upon this the Wizard left the table and led Vance to a neat little bed-chamber, where he bade him good-night. The Prince, having opened his box to give his family some air, lay down and enjoyed the first night of slumber in a bed which he had known since leaving the palace.
The next morning, after breakfasting with the Wizard, the witch, and the cats, the Prince was called into the garden and given a spade.
"Just dig awhile, as we talk," said the Wizard, seating himself, "and see if you can find any Greek roots. My wife wants some for a philter she is making."
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"Tintypes," observed the witch, "catnip promulgating canticles concerning emoluments, producing."
Vance stared; but the Wizard, who was evidently accustomed to this odd sort of talk, answered quietly:
"You are right, as usual, my dear. He must be very careful not to cut them in two with his spade."
The Prince took the spade and began to dig, though not very hopefully.
The truth was, he had never been at all successful in finding Greek roots himself; and besides he was longing to ask the Wizard for the charm which should restore his family. However, he dug away bravely and said nothing till the Wizard spoke to him.
"I suppose," said the Wizard, at length, "that, as to your family, you know the rule for simple reduction, don't you?"
"Yes," said the Prince, doubtfully, "I do if that page wasn't torn out of my book. However, I could learn it."
"Learn it, then," said the Wizard; "and when you have learned it, use it."
"But, if you please," ventured the Prince, humbly, "they are already reduced to the lowest terms. I don't wish to reduce them any more."
"All right, then," replied the Wizard, crossly; for the truth was, that, having a variety of affairs on his mind that day, he had forgotten that Vance's Court were pygmies, and was thinking they were giants, and a wizard never likes to find himself mistaken. "All right, then; don't reduce them. I'm sure I don't care what you do."
"Oh, don't say that!" begged the Prince, with tears in his eyes. "Please don't act as if you didn't care! Oh, your Wizards.h.i.+p, I've come so far to find you, and I've met such unpleasant people, and such horrible things have happened to me on the way, pray do not refuse to help me now that I have found you at last!"
"Well, then," returned the Wizard, "be polite, and do as I tell you. Do you find any roots, by the by?"
"Not one," said the Prince, leaning on his spade in despair.
"That's bad," said the Wizard. "I would sell the charm to you for one Greek root."
"Oh," cried the Prince, "my tutor has some, I know. His head used to be full of them; and unless they have grown so small that he has lost them, I'll be bound he has them still."
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Upon this the Prince hastened to open his box, and, to his great delight, succeeded in obtaining from his tutor several Greek roots which, though small, were of good shape and in fair condition. These being given to the Wizard, and by him handed to the witch, the Prince waited eagerly for the charm to be told him.
But the Wizard had apparently no mind to speak. He whistled a few moments, and then, drawing a string from his pocket, began to make a cat's-cradle over his long crushed-strawberry fingers.
"I've sent a message by telegraph to the court cat," he announced. "Go through that white gateway, and you'll come to the high-road. It is the southern boundary of Jolliland. Your way is straight. By sunset you will be at the castle. The cat knows all."
XVIII
The Prince thanked the Wizard, though not very warmly: for, to tell the truth, he did not much believe that the Wizard had sent a message to the cat; and even if he had, Vance had in times past so hectored and tormented that poor animal that he felt some delicacy in asking a favor from her now. However, he kept on in the direction pointed out, pa.s.sed through the white gate, and started forth merrily enough along the high-road. He was disturbed, indeed, by some fears of the wicked General Bopi; but he had, in spite of himself, some faith in the Crushed Strawberry Wizard, and he meant to be very cautious in approaching the palace.
By sundown, as the Wizard had promised, the young Prince found his long journey ended, and beheld at last the dear old home where he was born and had always lived till his own misdoings sent him forth. How beautiful it looked to the worn and footsore Prince, with its velvety terraces, its clear blue lake, marble statues, and crystal fountains, lovely flowers, waving ferns, and shady trees, and, above all, the great golden palace itself, its turrets flas.h.i.+ng and glittering in the rays of the setting sun! The Prince could have wept for very joy.
Everything about the palace seemed wonderfully still. The white swans slept upon the lake, and the peac.o.c.ks stood like jewelled images upon the terrace.
Peeping about cautiously for any signs of the wicked General, the Prince made his way softly through the shrubbery till he was very near the front entrance of the palace. Still no signs of the pretended king. The court cat, sleeker than in the days when Vance made her life a burden, sat alone on the upper step, placidly was.h.i.+ng herself.
"You may as well come out from behind that almond-tree," she said, "for I see you plainly enough."
At this the Prince came out, still cautiously looking about him, and set his box down upon the steps.
"Dear cat," he said politely, "how do you do?"
"Humph!" replied Tabby, rather unpleasantly. "'Dear cat!' How touching!"
"I've been gone a long time," ventured the Prince.
"That may be," returned the cat; "the days have pa.s.sed swiftly enough with us here. We have not grown thin in your absence."
"That is true," the Prince a.s.sented rather shamefacedly, and he hastened to change the subject. "Where is everybody?"
"Beheaded," replied the cat, briefly; "that is, all but the King."
"Do you mean General Bopi?" asked the Prince. "You know I have the real King here in my box."
"Don't quibble!" retorted the cat, sharply. "A king is known by his deeds. If you have seen the way he's been beheading people right and left, I think you'd call him something more than a general. What few he has left alive have fled from the palace and are hiding in the woods."
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"And where is the Gen--King himself?" asked Vance, uneasily.
"Oh!" replied the cat, carelessly, "he's 'round."
"'Round where?" asked Vance.