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The King rolled over and looked at Dorothy with one watery pink eye.
Then he sat up and wiped his eyes carefully with a silk handkerchief and
put on his jeweled crown, which had fallen off.
"
Excuse my grief, fair stranger," he said, in a sad voice. "You behold in
me the most miserable monarch in all the world. What time is it,
Blinkem?"
"
One o'clock, your Majesty," replied the attendant to whom the question
was addressed.
"
Serve luncheon at once!" commanded the King. "Luncheon for two--
that's for my visitor and me--and see that the human has some sort of
food she's accustomed to."
"
Yes, your Majesty," answered the attendant, and went away.
"
Tie my shoe, Bristle," said the King to the Keeper of the Wicket. "Ah me!
how unhappy I am!"
"
"
What seems to be worrying your Majesty?" asked Dorothy.
Why, it's this king business, of course," he returned, while the Keeper
tied his shoe. "I didn't want to be King of Bunnybury at all, and the
rabbits all knew it. So they elected me--to save themselves from such a
dreadful fate, I suppose--and here I am, shut up in a palace, when I
might be free and happy."
"
"
"
"
Seems to me," said Dorothy, "it's a great thing to be a King."
Were you ever a King?" inquired the monarch.
No," she answered, laughing.
Then you know nothing about it," he said. "I haven't inquired who you
are, but it doesn't matter. While we're at luncheon, I'll tell you all my
troubles. They're a great deal more interesting than anything you can
say about yourself."
"
Perhaps they are, to you," replied Dorothy.
"
Luncheon is served!" cried Blinkem, throwing open the door, and in
came a dozen rabbits in livery, all bearing trays which they placed upon
the table, where they arranged the dishes in an orderly manner.
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