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“The postmaster and his boys came here and said that you had climbed up on the buoy farthest out. The boys had rowed back toward shore just for fun, but they met a man in a row boat who nabbed them because they had taken the Custom House boat. The boys didn’t say anything to him about you, sitting out there on the buoy”—, When the King of the Peacocks' dinner hour arrived, there was nothing for him either in the saucepan or in the larder; his attendants looked askance at one another, and the King was in a terrible rage. "It seems, then, that I am to have no dinner; but see that the spit is put before the fire, and let me have some good roast meat this evening." The evening came, and the Princess said to Fretillon, "Go to the best kitchen in the town and bring me a joint of good roast meat." Fretillon obeyed, and knowing no better kitchen than that of the King, he went softly in, while the cooks' backs were turned, took the meat, which was of the best kind, from the spit, and carried it back in his basket to the Princess. She sent him back without delay to the larder, and he carried off all the preserves and sweetmeats that had been prepared for the King., It was not of course the sort of life he had pictured. That had been rather a vague idea of khaki-clad figures, perched with their instruments on perilous peaks and over yawning chasms; and a general idea of romance had run through his dreams. To be put into an office to do sums was little better than going to school. That his drawing board faced a window below which the job spread out, was a help, for while his mind mechanically did the figuring that was necessary, he could imagine himself out on the work mingling with the crowd..