Стража! Стража!

           Despitethethickfogitwasbeginningtogetbusy.

           "Whatd’youcallthemthings,likethinstairs?"saidSergeantColon.

           "Ladders,"saidCarrot.

           "Lotof’emabout,"saidNobby.Hemoochedovertothenearestone,andkickedit.

           "Oi!"Afigurestruggleddown,halfburiedinastringofflags.

           "What’sgoingon?"saidNobby.

           Theflagbearerlookedhimupanddown.

           "Whowantstoknow,tiddler?"hesaid.

           "Excuseme,wedo,"saidCarrot,loomingoutofthefoglikeaniceberg.Themangaveasicklygrin.

           "Well,it’sthecoronation,isn’tit,"hesaid."Gottogetthestreetsreadyforthecoronation.Gottohavetheflagsup.Gottogettheoldbuntingout,haven’twe?"

           Nobbygavethedrippingfineryajaundicedlook."Doesn’tlookthatoldtome,"hesaid."Itlooksnew.What’rethemfatsaggythingsonthatshield?"

           "ThosearetheroyalhipposofAnkh,"saidthemanproudly."Remindersofournobleheritage."

           "Howlonghavewehadanobleheritage,then?"saidNobby.

           "Sinceyesterday,ofcourse."

           "Youcan’thaveaheritageinaday,"saidCarrot."Ithastolastalongtime."

           "Ifwehaven’tgotone,"saidSergeantColon,"Ibetwe’llsoonhavehadone.Mywifeleftmeanoteaboutit.Alltheseyears,andsheturnsouttobeamonarchist."Hekickedthepavementviciously."Huh!"hesaid."Amanknockshispipesoutforthirtyyearstoputabitofmeatonthetable,butallshe’stalkingaboutissomeboywhogetstobekingforfiveminutes’work.