In the end, the crimson curtain was drawn before the throne.

As, however, this cousin might begin to wriggle the stick in his turn, and derange the balance of the tripod, the other two sets of stick-holders next decided that, though his majesty had an undeniable constitutional right to say who SHOULD BE his eldest first-cousin of the masculine gender, they had an undoubted constitutional right to say who he SHOULD NOT BE.

The result of all this was a compromise; his majesty, who, like other people, found the sweets of authority more palatable than the bitter, agreeing to get up on top of the tripod, where he might appear seated on the machine of state, to receive salutations, and eat and drink in peace, leaving the others to settle among themselves who should do the work at the bottom, as well as they could.

In brief, such is the history, and such was the polity of Leaphigh, when I had the honor of visiting that country.
The Leaplowers were resolute to prove that all this was radically wrong.
They determined, in the first place, that there should be but one great social beam; and, in order that it should stand perfectly steady, they made it the duty of every citizen to prop its base.

They liked the idea of a tripod well enough, but, instead of setting one up in the Leaphigh fashion, they just reversed its form, and stuck it on top of their beam, legs uppermost, placing a separate agent on each leg, to work their machine of state; taking care, also, to send a new one aloft periodically.