[Illustration: JULIA ENTERTAINS THE AMBASSADOR THROUGH THE KEYHOLE.]
Then there was the Ambassador on one side of the door, and his queue
on the other, and the door could not possibly be opened before
morning. Here was a terrible dilemma! What was to be done? There stood
the children, their patchwork in their hands, staring, open-mouthed,
at the queue dangling through the door, and the Patchwork Woman pale
with dismay, in their midst, on one side of the door, and on the other
side was the terror-stricken Mayor, and the poor Chinese Ambassador.
"Can't anything be done?" shouted the Mayor through the keyhole--there
was a very large keyhole.
"No," the Patchwork Woman said. "The door won't open till six o'clock
to-morrow morning."
"Oh, try!" groaned the Mayor. "Say the formula."
She said the formula, to satisfy them, but the door staid firmly shut.
Evidently the Chinese Ambassador would have to stay where he was until
morning, unless he had the Mayor snip his queue off, which was not to
be thought of.
So the Mayor, who was something of a philosopher, set about
accommodating himself, or rather his friend, to the situation.
"It is inevitable," said he to the Ambassador. "I am very sorry, but
everybody has to conform to the customs of the institutions of the
countries which they visit. I will go and get you some dinner, and an
extra coat.
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