“Are your kings elected, then?” asked
Cap’n Bill.
“Yes, of course. This is a Republic, you
know. The people elect all their officers from
the King down. Every man and every woman is a
voter. The Boolooroo tells them whom to vote for,
and if they don’t obey, they are severely punished.
It’s a fine system of government, and the only
thing I object to is electing the Boolooroo for only
three hundred years. It ought to be for life.
My successor has already been elected, but he can’t
reign for a hundred years to come.”
“I think three hundred years is plenty long
enough,” said Trot. “It gives someone
else a chance to rule, an’ I wouldn’t be
s’prised if the next king is a better one.
Seems to me you’re not much of a Boolooroo.”
“That,” replied the King indignantly,
“is a matter of opinion. I like myself
very much, but I can’t expect you to like me,
because you’re deformed and ignorant.”
“I’m not!” cried Trot.
“Yes, you are. Your legs are too short
and your neck is nothing at all. Your color is
most peculiar, but there isn’t a shade of blue
about any of you, except the deep-blue color of the
clothes the old ape that choked me wears. Also,
you are ignorant because you know nothing of Sky Island,
which is the Center of the Universe and the only place
anyone would care to live.”
“Don’t listen to him, Trot,” said
Button-Bright. “He’s an ignorant
himself.”
Cap’n Bill packed up the lunch basket.
One end of the rope was still tied to the handle of
the basket, and the other end to his swing seat, which
lay on the ground before them.
“Well,” said he, “let’s go
home. We’ve seen enough of this Blue Country
and its Blue Boolooroo, I guess, an’ it’s
a long journey back again.”
“All right,” agreed Trot, jumping up.
Button-Bright stood on the bench and held up the Magic
Umbrella, so he could open it, and the sailor had
just attached the ropes when a thin blue line shot
out from behind them and in a twinkling wound itself
around the umbrella. At the same instant another
blue cord wound itself around the boy’s body,
and others caught Trot and Cap’n Bill in their
coils, so that all had their arms pinned fast to their
sides and found themselves absolutely helpless.
The Boolooroo was laughing and dancing around in front
of them as if well pleased. For a moment the
prisoners could not imagine what had happened to them,
but presently half a dozen Blueskins, resembling in
shape and costume their ruler but less magnificently
dressed, stepped in front of them and bowed low to
the Boolooroo.
“Your orders, most Mighty, Flighty, Tight and
Righty Monarch, have been obeyed,” said the
leader.
“Very well, Captain. Take that umbrella
and carry it to my Royal Treasury. See that it
is safely locked up. Here’s the key, and
if you don’t return it to me within five minutes,
I’ll have you patched.”
