It is very nice even to be asked if you are clever. Your Aunt Willoughby knows well enough that you are not. But kings do say nice things. Matilda was very pleased.
“I don’t think I am clever,” she was saying quite honestly, when suddenly the sound of a hoarse laugh rang through the banqueting hall. Matilda put her hands to her head.
“Oh, dear!” she cried, “I feel so different. Oh! wait a minute. Oh! whatever is it? Oh!”
Then she was silent for a moment. Then she looked at the King and said, “I was wrong, your Majesty, I am clever, and I know it is not good for me to sit up late. Good-night. Thank you so much for your nice party. In the morning I think I shall be clever enough to help you, unless the bird laughs me back into the other kind of Matilda.”
But in the morning Matilda’s head felt strangely clear; only when she came down to breakfast full of plans for helping the King, she found that the Cockatoucan must have laughed in the night, for the beautiful Palace had turned into a butcher’s shop, and the King, who was too wise to fight against
