But the rich ladies never looked at the poor little king squatting
upon his stool. They gathered at once about the chief counselor, who
acted as auctioneer.

"How much am I offered for the coronet of the queen of Quok?" asked
the counselor, in a loud voice.

"Where is the coronet?" inquired a fussy old lady who had just
buried her ninth husband and was worth several millions.

"There isn't any coronet at present," explained the chief counselor,
"but whoever bids highest will have the right to wear one, and she
can then buy it."

"Oh," said the fussy old lady, "I see." Then she added: "I'll bid
fourteen dollars."

"Fourteen thousand dollars!" cried a sour-looking woman who was thin
and tall and had wrinkles all over her skin--"like a frosted apple,"
the king thought.

The bidding now became fast and furious, and the poverty-stricken
courtiers brightened up as the sum began to mount into the millions.

"He'll bring us a very pretty fortune, after all," whispered one to
his comrade, "and then we shall have the pleasure of helping him
spend it."

The king began to be anxious. All the women who looked at all
kind-hearted or pleasant had stopped bidding for lack of money, and