Boscenos est un gros cochon;
     On en va faire des andouilles
     Des saucisses et du jambon
     Pour le reveillon des pauv’ bougres.

It had, for two hundred years, been a well-known song in the slums of Alca.  Prince Boscenos did not like to hear it.  He went down into the street, and, perceiving that the singer was a workman who was placing some slates on the roof of a church, he politely asked him to sing something else.

“I will sing what I like,” answered the man.

“My friend, to please me. . . .”

“I don’t want to please you.”

Prince Boscenos was as a rule good-tempered, but he was easily angered and a man of great strength.

“Fellow, come down or I will go up to you,” cried he, in a terrible voice.

As the workman, astride on his coping, showed no sign of budging, the prince climbed quickly up the staircase of the tower and attacked the singer.  He gave him a blow that broke his jaw-bone and sent him rolling into a water-spout.  At that moment seven or eight carpenters, who were working on the rafters, heard their companion’s cry and looked through the window.  Seeing the prince on the coping they climbed along a ladder that was leaning on the slates and reached him just as he was slipping into the tower.  They sent him, head foremost, down the one hundred and thirty-seven steps of the spiral staircase.

IV.  VISCOUNTESS OLIVE

The Penguins had the finest army in the world.  So had the Porpoises.  And it was the same with the other nations of Europe.  The smallest amount of thought will prevent any surprise at this.  For all armies are the finest in the world.  The second finest army, if one could exist, would be in a notoriously inferior position; it would be certain to be beaten.  It ought to be disbanded at once.  Therefore, all armies are the finest in the world.  In France the illustrious Colonel Marchand understood this when, before the passage of the Yalou, being questioned by some journalists about the Russo-Japanese war, he did not hesitate to describe the Russian army as the finest in the world, and also the Japanese.  And it should be noticed that even after suffering the most terrible reverses an army does not fall from its position of being the finest in the world.  For if nations ascribe their victories to the ability of their generals and the courage of their soldiers, they always attribute their defeats to an inexplicable fatality.  On the other hand, navies are classed according to the number of their ships.  There is a first, a second, a third, and so on.  So that there exists no doubt as to the result of naval wars.

The Penguins had the finest army and the second navy in the world.  This navy was commanded by the famous Chatillon, who bore the title of Emiralbahr, and by abbreviation Emiral.  It is the same word which, unfortunately in a corrupt form, is used to-day among several European nations to designate the highest grade in the naval service.  But as there was but one Emiral among the Penguins, a singular prestige, if I dare say so, was attached to that rank.