When they came to the hole in the top of the dome, they dropped through it and swam leisurely down toward the castle.  The water was clear and undisturbed and the silver castle looked very quiet and peaceful under the radiant light that still filled the cavern.  They met no one at all, and passing around to the front of the building, they reached the broad entrance and passed into the golden hall.

Here a strange scene met their eyes.  All the slaves of Zog, hundreds in number, were assembled in the room, while standing before the throne formerly occupied by the wicked magician was the boy Sacho, who was just beginning to make a speech to his fellow slaves.  “At one time or another,” he said, “all of us were born upon the earth and lived in the thin air, but now we are all living as the fishes live, and our home is in the water of the ocean.  One by one we have come to this place, having been saved from drowning by Zog, the Magician, and by him given power to exist in comfort under water.  The powerful master who made us his slaves has now passed away forever, but we continue to live, and are unable to return to our native land, where we would quickly perish.  There is no one but us to inherit Zog’s possessions, and so it will be best for us to remain in this fine castle and occupy ourselves as we have done before, in providing for the comforts of the community.  Only in labor is happiness to be found, and we may as well labor for ourselves as for others.

“But we must have a king.  Not an evil, cruel master like Zog, but one who will maintain order and issue laws for the benefit of all.  We will govern ourselves most happily by having a ruler, or head, selected from among ourselves by popular vote.  Therefore I ask you to decide who shall be our king, for only one who is accepted by all can sit in Zog’s throne.”

The slaves applauded this speech, but they seemed puzzled to make the choice of a ruler.  Finally the chief cook came forward and said, “We all have our duties to perform and so cannot spend the time to be king.  But you, Sacho, who were Zog’s own attendant, have now no duties at all.  So it will be best for you to rule us.  What say you, comrades?  Shall we make Sacho king?”

“Yes, yes!” they all cried.

“But I do not wish to be king,” replied Sacho.  “A king is a useless sort of person who merely issues orders for others to carry out.  I want to be busy and useful.  Whoever is king will need a good attendant as well as an officer who will see that his commands are obeyed.  I am used to such duties, having served Zog in this same way.”

“Who, then, has the time to rule over us?” asked Agga-Groo, the goldsmith.

“It seems to me that Cap’n Joe is the proper person for king,” replied Sacho.  “His former duty was to sew buttons on Zog’s garments, so now he is out of a job and has plenty of time to be king, for he can sew on his own buttons.  What do you say, Cap’n Joe?”