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The King said to his brother "If the King of the Peacocks is a peacock himself, how can our sister marry him? it would be folly to consent to such a thing, and it would be a fine thing for us to have little peacocks for nephews." The Prince was equally disturbed at the thought. "It is an unhappy fancy she has taken into her head," he said. "I cannot think what led her to imagine that there was such a person in the world as the King of the Peacocks." How pleasant that no one was up yet, and that he could settle himself cosily at Mother’s writing desk! Uncle Isaac had been his godfather at baptism, so Johnny Blossom wrote: "Some years since" said Thackeray in a public speech, "when I was younger, and used to frequent jolly assemblies, I wrote a Bacchanalian song to be chanted after dinner;" and a contemporary record has preserved a note of "the radiant gratification of his face whilst Horace Mayhew sang The Mahogany Tree, perhaps the finest and most soul-stirring of Thackeray's social songs." "One minute more," replied his wife; and then she cried, "Anne! Sister Anne! do you not see anything coming?".