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went up, of--
"Long live Foo-foo the First, King of the Mooncalves!" followed by
hootings, cat-calls, and peals of laughter.
"
"
"
"
Hale him forth, and crown him!"
Robe him!"
Sceptre 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 tattered blanket, throned upon a barrel, and sceptred with the
tinker's soldering-iron. Then all flung themselves upon their knees
about him and sent up a chorus of ironical wailings, and mocking
supplications, whilst 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!"
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