That part of the story is true
enough, Rinkitink."
"Then proceed with the tale, sweet Bilbil. Yet it is
hard to believe that any King could be brainless --
unless, indeed, he proved it by owning a talking goat."
Bilbil glared at him a full minute in silence.
Then he resumed his story:
"This empty-headed man was a King by accident, having
been born to that high station. Also the King was
empty-headed by the same chance, being born without
brains."
"Poor fellow!" quoth the King. "Did he own a talking
goat?"
"He did," answered Bilbil.
"Then he was wrong to have been born at all. Cheek-
eek-eek-eek, oo, hoo!" chuckled Rinkitink, his fat body
shaking with merriment. "But it's hard to prevent
oneself from being born; there's no chance for protest,
eh, Bilbil?"
"Who is telling this story, I'd like to know,"
demanded the goat, with anger.
"Ask someone with brains, my boy; I'm sure I can't
tell," replied the King, bursting into one of his merry
fits of laughter.
Bilbil rose to his hoofs and walked away in a
dignified manner, leaving Rinkitink chuckling anew at
the sour expression of the animal's face.
"Oh, Bilbil, you'll be the death of me, some day --
I'm sure you will!" gasped the King, taking out his
lace handkerchief to wipe his eyes; for, as he often
did, he had laughed till the tears came.
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