It happened, one morning, that the Monarch of Mo was not in his usual
pleasant humor; and, of course, there was an excellent reason for this.
At the back of his garden grew one tree that generally bore an abundant
crop of animal-crackers, and although the King and his court, being
surfeited with all the dainties of the land, did not care much for
these edibles, the younger inhabitants of Mo were especially fond of
them, and yelled with delight whenever the King divided the crop of his
tree among them.
A few days before the King had examined the tree and found the
animal-crackers not quite ripe. Whereupon he had gone away and
forgotten all about them. And, in his absence, they had ripened to a
delicious light brown; and their forms had rounded out, so that they
hung as thickly together as peas in a pod. As they swung from their
stems, swaying backward and forward in the light breeze, they waited
and waited for some one to come and pick them. But no one came near the
tree, and the animals grew cross and restless in consequence.
"I wonder when we shall be gathered," remarked a hippopotamus-cracker, with a yawn.
"Oh, you wonder, do you?" mockingly replied a camel-cracker hanging
near, "do you really expect any one to gather _you_, with your thick
hide and clumsy legs? Why, the children would break their teeth on you
at the first bite."
"What!" screamed the hippopotamus, in much anger, "do you dare insult
_me_, you humpbacked beast of burden?"
"Now then--now then!" interrupted a wolf-cracker that hung from a stem
just above them; "what's the use of fighting, when we are so soon to be
eaten?"
But the camel-cracker would not be appeased.
"Thick-headed brute!" he yelled at the hippopotamus, angrily.
"Hump-backed idiot!" shrieked the other.
At this the camel swung himself fiercely on his branch, and bumped
against the hippopotamus, knocking him off from the tree. The ground
underneath was chocolate, and it was soft and sticky, not having dried
since the last rain. So when the hippopotamus fell he sank half way
into the ground, and his beautiful brown color was spattered with the
muddy chocolate.
At this vengeful deed on the part of the camel all the other animals
became furious. A full-grown goat-cracker swung himself against the
camel and knocked it, in turn, from its stem; and in falling on the
ground it broke its hump off. Then a lion-cracker knocked the goat
down, and an elephant knocked a cat down, and soon the whole tree was
in a violent commotion. The animals fought with each other so
desperately that before long the entire treeful of animal-crackers had
fallen to the ground, where many lay broken and disfigured, and the
remainder were sunk deep in the chocolate mud.
So when the King, finally remembering his tree, came and looked on the
sorry sight, it dampened his usual good spirits, and he heartily wished
he had picked the quarrelsome crackers before they began to fight among
themselves.
While he stood thinking dismally on this, up came Prince Fiddlecumdoo
and asked permission to go on a journey.
"Where do you wish to go?" asked the King.
"I am tired of this beautiful Valley," answered Fiddlecumdoo, "and as
the bicycle tree beside the Crystal Lake is now hanging full of ripe
wheels, I thought I would gather one and ride over into the next valley
in search of adventure." You see, this Prince was the King's youngest
son, and had been rather spoiled by petting, as youngest sons often
are.
"The next valley, my son, is inhabited by the giant Hartilaf," said the
King, "and should you meet him he might do you an injury."
"Oh, I am not afraid of Hartilaf," replied Fiddlecumdoo, boldly. "If he
should not be pleasant to me, I could run away from him on my wheel."
"I don't know about that," responded the King. "There may be bicycle
trees in the next valley, as well as here; and it is always dangerous
and foolish for any one to leave this Valley, where there is everything
that heart could wish. Instead of running away in search of adventures, you would do better to remain at home and help your mother pick collar buttons and neckties for the family."
"That is work," said Fiddlecumdoo, sulkily, "and I hate work."
"Yet somebody has to pick the collar buttons," returned the King, "or
we should be unable to keep our collars on."