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!”

“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 for ever!”

But the humorous tinker made the ‘hit’ of the evening and carried off
the honours.