morning, 'Chop off her head.'  And he made every one of them tell him a tale every night; and he kept that up till he had hogged a thousand and one tales that way, and then he put them all in a book, and called it Domesday Book--which was a good name and stated the case.  You don't know kings, Jim, but I know them; and this old rip of ourn is one of the cleanest I've struck in history.  Well, Henry he takes a notion he wants to get up some trouble with this country. How does he go at it--give notice?--give the country a show?  No.  All of a sudden he heaves all the tea in Boston Harbor overboard, and whacks out a declaration of independence, and dares them to come on.  That was _his_ style--he never give anybody a chance.  He had suspicions of his father, the Duke of Wellington.  Well, what did he do?  Ask him to show up?  No--drownded him in a butt of mamsey, like a cat.  S'pose people left money laying around where he was--what did he do?  He collared it.  S'pose he contracted to do a thing, and you paid him, and didn't set down there and see that he done it--what did he do?  He always done the other thing. S'pose he opened his mouth--what then?  If he didn't shut it up powerful quick he'd lose a lie every time.  That's the kind of a bug Henry was; and if we'd a had him along 'stead of our kings he'd a fooled that town a heap worse than ourn done.  I don't say that ourn is lambs, because they ain't, when you come right down to the cold facts; but they ain't nothing to _that_ old ram, anyway.  All I say is, kings is kings, and you got to make allowances.  Take them all around, they're a mighty ornery lot. It's the way they're raised.” “But dis one do _smell_ so like de nation, Huck.” “Well, they all do, Jim.  We can't help the way a king smells; history don't tell no way.” “Now de duke, he's a tolerble likely man in some ways.” “Yes, a duke's different.  But not very different.  This one's a middling hard lot for a duke.  When he's drunk there ain't no near-si