The Abdication of King Wilkins I
With matters in this desperately hopeless condition, I stood aloof as an interested on looker. My sympathies were with the Titian beard, over which fell destruction hovered. Then, too, I dreaded losing Wilkins as a comrade. I knew full well that this insanely prejudiced young woman would never consent to her husband's remaining in my employ as an assistant in harvesting the Human Whisker or as the curator of my collections. I was also haunted by the disappointment that would befall old Lemuel Wilkins, the shipwrecked parent. We had left him in England, waiting with his monkey, Four-handed Jacob, the simian semaphore, for the summons to join us as Prime Minister of the island.
It was an immense relief, therefore, to have an end made of this harrowing suspense. When Wilkins summoned me to the royal bed-chamber I was prepared for the worst. His demeanor was grave, but there was a twinkling light in his eye as he announced:
"I received word to-day that a schooner from Peace Island will touch here by to-mor-
