'What a time we had in that old shed to be sure. After demolishing the chicken we played the most exciting games of dominoes until we were tired of them, then cats' cradles, then honey-pots, and then touch wood. And what could have been more refreshing than those cups of tea! And what more invigorating than the Pontefract cakes, the slabs of cocoanut ice, and sheets of almond hard-bake that we crunched between the games! And the songs and choruses with which we shook the crazy old hen-house to its rotting foundations! My word! How we trolled them out!
'When our joy was at its height, and we were carolling the inimitable chorus of that more than glorious old song of the country-side, "Waiting for the Guinea Fowl," we were suddenly reminded of the approach of day by the loud crowing of the old cock over our heads, and peeping at once out of the door we perceived that already the dawn had advanced and lightened the eastern sky.
'Without a moment's hesitation, the guttering candles were extinguished, and I was hurried back to the palace. But only just in time, for as I mounted the steps of my throne I could hear the lazy steps of the boot-boy as he unwillingly crawled downstairs to his work.
'In the course of the day the Egg Counter to the Royal Household was dragged grovelling before me, complaining that the foxes had stolen one of the chickens under his care. I ordered the treasurer to disburse 9d. for a trap and dismissed the grinning churl, who little guessed the breed of foxes which had made away with his bird.
'Night after night the four of us, unsuspected of any, now sought the hen-house, and forgot the harassing troubles of state in the pure joys of friendship. After killing, roasting, and supping off one of the birds as on our first meeting, we abandoned ourselves to the heartiest revelry, only to be awakened to the cold everyday world by the crowing of the old bantam.
'During the daytime my friends resumed their deferential and almost servile demeanour, and nothing remained to remind me of the revels of the night before but the troubles of the Egg Counter, who now came to me every day with a fresh complaint that yet another of his birds had disappeared.
'And now begins the narration of the most terrible of all my trials. One night--how well can I remember it, it was on the eve of that very day when the mighty King of the Persians and all his court were coming to spend the week-end with us, in order to celebrate my sixty-fifth birthday--we met as usual in the hen-house, and discovered to our dismay that we had demolished all the fowls with the exception of the old cock. After some discussion, and regardless of consequences, we decided to treat him as we had already treated his brothers and sisters, and in a very little time nothing was left of the tough old biped but bones, beak and feathers. Heedless of the morrow, we now gave ourselves up to the wildest enjoyment. Discarding such simple games as dominoes and honey-pots, we now indulged in the more thrilling joys of leap-frog, Hunt the Stag, Red Rover, Robbers and Thieves, and you would not believe me were I to tell you the amount of toffee, brandy-snaps, bull's eyes, and Edinburgh rock that we absorbed in the course of this agreeable evening.