“When the boat went ashore, Sir Isaac, his daughter, Lady Sophie, her maid, a Miss Eckerstrom, Mr. Cook, and one or two others were saved, together with certain of their effects—­an auto car or so, a piano, a harp, some books, pictures, and a number of other items which made our life much pleasanter.  We all settled down together in a bit of colony, and we got on well enough.

“The King by this time was becoming most unpleasant again about his sacrifice.  Sir Harry was a sad dog.  ‘Sacrifice Morgenstern,’ suggested he, ‘he’s used to sacrifice.’  You see, in the retail business—­”

“Never mind dot,” said Whiteman.  “Tell vot happenet!”

“A great many things happened.  For one thing, the death of Sir Isaac.”

“How come that?” asked Billy Hudgens.

“One day Sir Harry met Sir Isaac in the woods, and they’d a bit of talk.  Without thinking much about it, Sir Harry explained that he was called on to blow soap bubbles for the King, and that he was in great need of soap, which at that time was worth far more than gold.”

“Unt Morgenstern a retiret soap-mager” exclaimed Whiteman, involuntarily.

“Now that was shore hard luck for him,” added Uncle Jim.

“You may quite believe so,” said the teller of the story, gently.  “And the saddest part of it, he’d nearly solved our problem before he left us.  At once Sir Harry began talking of soap, Sir Isaac began wondering how he could make soap.  Ere long he thought of Mr. Cook, the missionary.  ‘Soap making is simple,’ said he, ’if one has fat and a bit of alkali.’  The water there was most alkaline, I may add.  ’Now there is Mr. Cook?’

“‘You cawn’t have the missionary,’ interrupted Sir Harry, ’until after he has married me and the princess.  Then I don’t mind.’

“I’ve every reason to believe that Mr. Cook was made over into soap.  But for once Sir Isaac was wrong.  He oversold the market, and that was his mistake.  As soon as the King of Gee-Whiz found that there was abundance of soap he lost his fawncy for bubbles.  The shock of this lost opportunity prostrated Sir Isaac, and he presently passed away.  We mourned him for a time, but presently other events occurred which deadened the loss.

“You will understand that the King of Gee-Whiz was a deucedly good sort.  He’d take a nip now and again, of course.  The only thing he had to drink was palm wine, which he got by chopping a notch in a tree and catching the juice in a cup.”

“That sounds like wood alcohol,” said Billy Hudgens, in a professional tone of voice.  “It ain’t safe.”

“Quite right.  It wasn’t safe.  The palm wine itself caused the King to cut a pretty caper now and then; but awfter his mistake, he was far worse—­far, far worse.  He never got over that, never.”

“What happened to him?”

“A most extraordinary thing.  I never knew of anything like it in all the world.