Cat-calls, and peals of laughter

'Hale him forth, and crown him!'

'Robe him!'

'Scepter him!'

'Throne him!'

These and twenty other cries broke out at once; and almost before the poor

Little victim could draw a breath he was crowned with a tin basin, robed in a

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tattered blanket, throned upon a barrel, and sceptered with tinker's

Soldering-iron. Then all flung themselves upon their knees about him and sent

Up a chorus of ironical wailings, and mocking supplications, while they

swabbed their eyes with their soiled and ragged sleeves and aprons:

'Be gracious to us, O sweet king!'

'Trample not upon thy beseeching worms, O noble majesty!'

'Pity thy slaves, and comfort them with a royal kick!'

'Cheer us and warm us with thy gracious rays, O flaming sun of sovereignty!'

'Sanctify the ground with the touch of thy foot, that we may eat the dirt and

be ennobled!'

'Deign to spit upon us, O sire, that our children's children may tell of thy

princely condescension, and be proud and happy forever!'

But the humorous tinker made the 'hit' of the evening and carried off the

honors. Kneeling, he pretended to kiss the king's foot, and was indignantly

Spurned; whereupon he went about begging for a rag to paste over the place

Upon his face which had been touched by the foot, saying it must be preserved