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Updated: May 20, 2025
"He's the holiest thing we have in the kingdom," replied King Kleaver. "Except me," said a sieve. "I'm the whole thing when it comes to holes." "What we need," remarked the King, rebukingly, "is a wireless sieve. I must speak to Marconi about it. These old-fashioned sieves talk too much.
Beside this range was a butcher block upon which lay a great cleaver with a keen edge. It rested upon the flat of its back, its legs were crossed and it was smoking a long pipe. "Wake up, your Majesty," said the Captain. "Here are prisoners." Hearing this, King Kleaver sat up and looked at Dorothy sharply. "Gristle and fat!" he cried. "Where did this girl come from?"
"Gentlemen, gentlemen!" he said, "your remarks are somewhat cutting and rather disjointed, as might be expected from such acute intellects. But you give me no reasons for your demands." "See here, Kleaver; you make me tired," said a saucepan, strutting before the King very impudently. "You're about the worst King that ever reigned in Utensia, and that's saying a good deal.
"Who are you?" she asked. "We're the Spoon Brigade," said one. "In the service of his Majesty King Kleaver," said another. "And you are our prisoners," said a third. Dorothy sat down on an old stump and looked at them, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "What would happen," she inquired, "if I should set my dog on your Brigade?" "He would die," replied one of the spoons, sharply.
"We are subjects of King Kleaver, and obey only his orders, which are to bring all prisoners to him as soon as they are captured. So step lively, my girl, and march with us, or we may be tempted to cut off a few of your toes with our swords." This threat made Dorothy laugh again.
"Your remarks are piquant and highly-seasoned, but you need a scattering of commonsense. It is only necessary to kill a person once to make him dead; but I do not see that it is necessary to kill this little girl at all." "I don't, either," said Dorothy. "Pardon me, but you are not expected to advise me in this matter," replied King Kleaver. "Why not?" asked Dorothy.
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