A cat was looking at a King, as permitted
by the proverb.
“Well,” said the monarch,
observing her inspection of the royal person, “how
do you like me?”
“I can imagine a King,”
said the Cat, “whom I should like better.”
“For example?”
“The King of the Mice.”
The sovereign was so pleased with
the wit of the reply that he gave her permission
to scratch his Prime Minister’s eyes out.
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