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twice as long as the other before.’
    â€˜Yes, and three sleeves, too,’ said another. ‘So clever for those embarrassing times when you lose asleeve or dip your cuff in your soup.’
    â€˜Which, with one sleeve so long, happens frequently,’ said a third.
    But poor Lady Petaluna knew the shirt was a disaster and lay on her bed in tears. Any slight hopes she might have had of the King falling in love with her were gone forever.
    If only there was a wise book called the Blue Sages or maybe the Yellow Sages that listed different types of places throughout the land that one might wish to go, she thought, I would find me a remote monastery and hie me there to spend the rest of my life as a nun wearing naught but sackcloth and eating ashes and gruel for every meal, even Christmas dinner.
    O woe is me , she thought too.
    I are totally full of woe , she added.
    â€˜But my lady,’ said Dave, ‘the King thinks your shirt most wonderful.’
    â€˜He can’t do,’ Petaluna sobbed. ‘He’s just saying it to be kind.’
    â€˜Indeed, my lady, he says it to spare your feelings,’ said Dave.
    â€˜Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.’
    â€˜And wouldst thou not wish him to be kind to thee?’
    â€˜More than anything in the whole world,’ said Petaluna.
    â€˜Well, my lady, your wish is granted,’ said Dave.
    Petaluna fainted.

 
    The day of the coronation finally arrived and everything was ready. Visitors had arrived from many lands, some coming by dragon, some by balloon, others by road or river or sea, a few by flying carpet or enchanted pumpkin. Two princes even arrived by parcel post. The whole world saw the coronation as the first day of a new and exciting era, more new and exciting than any new and exciting era had ever been before.
    Probably the least excited person was the young King himself. He was a modest boy and until recently had lived a simple uncomplicated life. Apart from being carried off as a newborn baby and rescued by two poor but honest peasants who had raised him as their own and then got killed leaving him alone with a pig called Geoffrey who had been struck by lightning leaving him alone with nothing but a very tasty dinner of pork and then being stuff ed into a sack and sold to the Cook at Camelot who had discovered that he was fireproof, the boy had led an uneventful life. Aft er all, being carried off and ending up in a sack with the taste of roast pork in your mouth was the sort of thing thathappened to young children all the time in those days.
    â€˜Do we have to have all this fuss?’ he kept asking Sir Lancelot.
    â€˜Oh my lord, I know exactly how you feel and I do sympathise,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘but it is tradition and that is what life is all about. It is your royal duty.’
    â€˜I suppose so,’ said Arthur, ‘but I’d as soon have a cup of tea and a bun and just let everyone assume I was the King without all this pomp and ceremony.’
    â€˜I know, my lord, but think of the positive things,’ said Sir Lancelot. ‘Tell me if I am wrong, but I think you are quite sweet on my wonderful lady Morgan le Fey’s lady-in-waiting, Lady Petaluna, are you not?’
    â€˜I am,’ said the King, ‘but please, good knight, promise you will tell no one.’
    â€˜Of course not, sire.’
    â€˜And I, in turn, will tell no one that you are in love with my sister.’
    â€˜I, what? Oh umm,’ Sir Lancelot stammered and fainted.
    When he came to, he fell to his knees before the young King and begged forgiveness.
    â€˜What for?’ said Arthur.
    â€˜Well, my lord, the incredibly wonderful and divine and gorgeous and magnificent Lady Morgan le Fey is far above me,’ said Sir Lancelot. ‘She is, after all, the daughter of a King and the sister of a King and I am but a humble knight. With your permission, sire, I will take me to the highest tower of Camelot and