The King turned a threatening glance on the crowd, and every one hastened to say “No, there wasn’t.” But old Tony turned extremely pale, and hurrying into the vestry, he tampered with the register of births, and altered his own name to Sydney Cecil Ernest Watchett.
But young Tony spoke up. “My name’s Tony,” said he.
“Oh, is it?” said His Majesty. “We’ll soon see about that. Guards, seize him! Now, what is your name?”
“Tony,” said he.
“Your name is not Tony,” said the King, “your name is——” he could not think of a name at the moment, so he stopped.
Tony said, “My name is Tony.”
“Take him to the Parliament House,” said the King, beside himself with rage. “Give him a taste of the Mace,” and Tony tasted the Mace and was stamped on by the Great Seal, who was very fierce and lived in a cage at the Parliament House, until he was stiff and sore and sorry enough to be glad to say that his name was anything the King liked, except Tony, which of course it never, never could have been. He admitted at last that his name was William Waterbury Watchett, and was discharged with a caution.
