{"collection":"folklore-oral-tradition","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_33570/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_33570","id":"gutenberg_33570","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/33570","summary":null,"tags":["Babysitters -- Juvenile fiction","Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Humour","Category: Novels","Children's stories","Fairy tales","Humorous stories","Kings and rulers -- Juvenile fiction","Voyages and travels -- Juvenile fiction"],"text":"Produced by Simon Gardner, Chris Curnow and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This\nfile was produced from images generously made available\nby The Internet Archive)\n\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's Note\n\nWhere changes have been made to the text these are listed at the end of\nthe book.\n\n * * * * *\n\n[Illustration: cover art]\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration: frontispiece]\n\n BILL THE MINDER\n\n _Written and\n illustrated by_\n\n W.HEATH\n ROBINSON\n\n NEW YORK\n HENRY HOLT & CO.\n 1912\n\n[Illustration]\n\nEdinburgh: T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to His Majesty\n\n TO\n\n THE GOOD CHILDREN\n OF CHLOE AND CRISPIN\n THE GATHERER OF\n MUSHROOMS---CHAD,\n HANNIBAL, QUENTIN,\n RANDALL, NOAH, RATCHETT,\n NERO, BIDDULPH,\n KNUT, AND THE TRULY\n VIRTUOUS AND BEAUTIFUL\n BOADICEA, THIS\n BOOK IS MOST HUMBLY\n AND RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED\n BY THE FAITHFUL\n NARRATOR OF THEIR\n EVER-WONDERFUL ADVENTURES.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n PAGE\n\n BILL THE MINDER 1\n\n THE KING OF TROY 15\n\n THE ANCIENT MARINER 33\n\n THE TRIPLETS 51\n\n GOOD AUNT GALLADIA 65\n\n THE DOCTOR 79\n\n THE RESPECTABLE GENTLEMAN 97\n\n THE SICILIAN CHAR-WOMAN 115\n\n THE INTERVAL 133\n\n THE REAL SOLDIER 147\n\n THE WILD MAN 165\n\n THE MUSICIAN 183\n\n THE LOST GROCER 199\n\n THE MERCHANT'S WIFE 213\n\n THE CAMP-FOLLOWERS 227\n\n THE SIEGE OF TROY 241\n\n THE END 255\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\nCOLOURED PLATES\n\n\n FRONTISPIECE\n\n THE KING OF TROY COMPELLED TO ASK HIS WAY _To face page_ 30\n\n THE SPORT OF EVERY MER-KID \" 48\n\n HE WAS ALWAYS AT HAND \" 58\n\n I FELL FROM MY POSITION \" 72\n\n THE LORD MAYOR HELD A LONG COUNCIL \" 88\n\n THE RESPECTABLE GENTLEMAN \" 110\n\n BASIL HERBERT DEVELOPS A CHILBLAIN \" 122\n\n AND LEFT HIM TO HAVE HIS CRY OUT \" 140\n\n REGINALD COMPLETELY LOST HIS TEMPER \" 156\n\n HARMLESS INDEED WERE OUR JOYS \" 168\n\n AND PLAYED IT FOR MY DELIGHT \" 190\n\n FOLLOWED HIM AT THE GREATEST SPEED \" 208\n\n BRINGING WITH THEM A LITTLE OLD MAN \" 216\n\n THEY CAME UPON A GREAT STONE SPHINX \" 230\n\n CLOSELY OBSERVED FROM THE WATCH TOWERS \" 244\n\n\nBILL THE MINDER\n\n PAGE\n\n TITLE-PAGE 1\n\n HEADPIECE 2\n\n HIS HOWLS BECAME TERRIFIC 7\n\n ALWAYS INVENTING NEW WAYS OF MINDING 10\n\n YOUNG TOOTH-CUTTERS FORGOT THEIR TROUBLES 11\n\n THE ONLY MINDER OF THE DISTRICT 13\n\n TAILPIECE 14\n\n\n THE KING OF TROY\n\n TITLE-PAGE 15\n\n HEADPIECE 16\n\n HE CLIMBED THE RICK 18\n\n HE COMMENCED HIS TALE 21\n\n WHAT A TIME WE HAD 26\n\n TAILPIECE 31\n\n VIGNETTE 32\n\n\n THE ANCIENT MARINER\n\n TITLE-PAGE 33\n\n HEADPIECE 34\n\n I SIGN ON AS CABIN BOY 39\n\n I WENT ON WITH MY SANDWICHES 42\n\n FOR YEARS WE SAILED 47\n\n TAILPIECE 49\n\n VIGNETTE 50\n\n\n THE TRIPLETS\n\n TITLE-PAGE 51\n\n HEADPIECE 52\n\n ENDEAVOURING TO COMFORT THE OLD MAN 55\n\n WE GREW UP IN COMPARATIVE HAPPINESS 58\n\n THE TRIPLETS ACCOMPANY THE ARMY 63\n\n TAILPIECE 64\n\n\n GOOD AUNT GALLADIA\n\n TITLE-PAGE 65\n\n HEADPIECE 66\n\n I JUST MANAGED TO REACH THE EGGS 71\n\n I ANGLE THE AIR 72\n\n I ERECTED MY POLE ON THE SAND 73\n\n ITS OLD STATELY SELF AGAIN 75\n\n\n THE DOCTOR\n\n TITLE-PAGE 79\n\n HEADPIECE 80\n\n FAR SOONER HAVE THE MUMPS 83\n\n THE PUFF BAKER 87\n\n TREATED WITH DELICIOUS JALAPS 88\n\n AS SOME PATIENT PREPARED HIS DOSE 89\n\n THE VERY SPARROWS GREW THIN 91\n\n POSTCARD 94\n\n POSTCARD 95\n\n TAILPIECE 96\n\n\n THE RESPECTABLE GENTLEMAN\n\n TITLE-PAGE 97\n\n HEADPIECE 98\n\n BOWING POLITELY TO THE PILLAR-BOXES 103\n\n THE CHURCH STEEPLE HAD BEEN REMOVED 104\n\n STANDING ALONE UPON THE WALL 106\n\n DANGLING BY HIS LEGS 109\n\n TAILPIECE 113\n\n VIGNETTE 114\n\n\n THE SICILIAN CHAR-WOMAN\n\n TITLE-PAGE 115\n\n HEADPIECE 116\n\n I TOOK LEAVE OF MY SORROWING FATHER 120\n\n HARDLY DISGUISING HIS EFFORTS TO IGNORE ME 121\n\n THEY WERE COMPELLED TO SEND FOR A PHYSICIAN 125\n\n THE IMPROVEMENT WAS MAINTAINED 129\n\n DISCOVERED A CLOVE KERNEL 130\n\n VIGNETTE 132\n\n\n THE INTERVAL\n\n TITLE-PAGE 133\n\n HEADPIECE 134\n\n I FELL ON TO THE PARSNIP 137\n\n THEY ALL ONCE MORE STARTED 138\n\n ON THEIR ADVENTUROUS JOURNEY 139\n\n THE WHOLE CAMP WAS FAST ASLEEP 142\n\n TAILPIECE 145\n\n VIGNETTE 146\n\n\n THE REAL SOLDIER\n\n TITLE-PAGE 147\n\n HEADPIECE 148\n\n THE REAL SOLDIER 153\n\n 'BUT HOLD!' CRIED THE PRESIDENT 156\n\n 'YOUR FATE BE UPON YOUR OWN HEAD' 157\n\n FLOUNDERING ABOUT IN THE SEA 159\n\n IN EXPECTATION OF THEIR LEADER 161\n\n TAILPIECE 163\n\n VIGNETTE 164\n\n\n THE WILD MAN\n\n TITLE-PAGE 165\n\n HEADPIECE 166\n\n I PLEADED MY CASE 169\n\n AND KILLED IT ON THE SPOT 173\n\n WE COOKED ONE GREAT STEAK 177\n\n TAILPIECE 181\n\n VIGNETTE 182\n\n\n THE MUSICIAN\n\n TITLE-PAGE 183\n\n HEADPIECE 184\n\n SHE NOW MADE OFF TO THE WOODS 189\n\n HE WOULD CLIMB TO THE TOPMOST BRANCHES 190\n\n SWEEPING THE DEAD LEAVES 195\n\n WITH NO OTHER WEALTH THAN MY CONCERTINA 197\n\n TAILPIECE 198\n\n\n THE LOST GROCER\n\n TITLE-PAGE 199\n\n HEADPIECE 200\n\n AFFECTED BY HIS STORY 205\n\n PLUMP INTO THE RIVER WE WENT 206\n\n THERE GREW IN FRONT OF ME A GREAT MOUND 209\n\n SNEEZING AND SNEEZING 211\n\n\n THE MERCHANT'S WIFE\n\n TITLE-PAGE 213\n\n HEADPIECE 214\n\n MOPING ABOUT THE COMMON 219\n\n KEPT HIM OUT OF MISCHIEF 223\n\n GLORIOUS TARTS AND SWEETS 224\n\n IT DIDN'T MATTER HOW MUCH YOU ATE 225\n\n TAILPIECE 226\n\n\n THE CAMP-FOLLOWERS\n\n TITLE-PAGE 227\n\n HEADPIECE 228\n\n THE HEADS SERVED FOR DOLLS 233\n\n YOU ARE NOW OUR ONLY HOPE 234\n\n I FISHED AND FISHED AND FISHED 237\n\n TAILPIECE 239\n\n VIGNETTE 240\n\n\n THE SIEGE OF TROY\n\n TITLE-PAGE 241\n\n HEADPIECE 242\n\n PLAN OF SIEGE 245\n\n THESE PARCELS WERE NOW LABELLED 248\n\n AND PACKED HIM OFF TO PERSIA 251\n\n TROY BECAME THE HAPPIEST TOWN 253\n\n THE END\n\n VIGNETTE 256\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\n * * * * *\n\n[Illustration: BILL THE MINDER]\n\n[Illustration: Headpiece]\n\n\n\n\nBILL THE MINDER\n\n\nOld Crispin, the mushroom gatherer, and his good wife Chloe had ten\nchildren, and nine of them were bad-tempered. There was Chad, the\nyoungest and most bad-tempered of the lot, Hannibal and Quentin the\ntwins, Randall with the red head, Noah, Ratchett the short-sighted, Nero\nthe worrit, weeping Biddulph and Knut. The only good-tempered child was\na little girl named Boadicea.\n\nIt is well known that a boy usually takes after his father, and a girl\nafter her mother, and these children were no exception to the rule, for\nthe boys all resembled old Crispin, whose temper had been rather tried,\npoor man, by the early hours at which he had to rise, in order to gather\nthe mushrooms when they were quite new and young. On the other hand,\nBoadicea could only have inherited her good-temper from Chloe, who\nwithout doubt was the most good-tempered dame alive.\n\nNow it is quite true that any one who cares to rise early enough in the\nmorning may gather mushrooms, and plenty of them, too, but those who do\nso only now and again, and merely for amusement, little know the hard\nlife of the professional gatherer, or the skill and judgment he has to\ncultivate in order to carry on his work with any success.\n\nIn the course of time Crispin became so well skilled that he could not\nonly tell a mushroom from a toadstool at the distance of two hundred\nyards, but his hearing became so acute that he could even hear them\ngrowing, and learnt to distinguish the sound of each as it broke through\nthe earth. Indeed, he had no need for any alarm to wake him from his\nheavy slumbers and call him to his work in the fields. However\ncautiously a mushroom made its appearance, at its first rumble, old\nCrispin would jump from his hard bed, hastily dress himself, and, often\nwithout tasting a morsel of breakfast, be out of the house and on to the\nfield in time to see the newcomer pop its head through the earth. This\nhe would pick, and then he would hop about with his head on one side\nlistening for others like some old starling listening for worms, at the\nsame time mewing like a cat to frighten away the birds that prey on the\nmushrooms. He was then able to fill his basket with the very freshest\ncrop and take them round to people's houses in time for breakfast.\n\nWith such anxious work it will be readily understood that few mushroom\ngatherers can remain in the best of health for many years, and it so\nhappened that in time the anxieties connected with the gathering of\nmushrooms began to affect old Crispin, so that he fell ill and\ncompletely lost his appetite. Chloe called in the doctor, but the latter\nat first could do nothing for him. He painted Crispin's chest and then\nhis back with iodine; he rubbed him well with the roots of sarsaparilla;\nhe made him sleep first on his right side, then on his left, and finally\ncovered him in brown paper plasters and dock-leaf poultices and sent him\nto the sea-side with strict injunctions to take to sea-bathing, running,\nand aeroplaning, but it was all of no avail.\n\nWith the assistance of Boadicea, Chloe now tried to tempt her husband\nwith every known and unknown dish, and when these failed, like a good\nwife, she invented others. She made trifles of vegetable marrow,\ntartlets of hen feathers to soothe the nerves, salads of spinach and\ncarraway comfits, delicacies composed of porridge and mint, and the most\nluscious stews of pine-cones and lard. She then tried him with even\nlighter dishes, but it was no good. He became thinner and thinner every\nday, and his temper was growing shorter and shorter, when at last, to\nher great joy, she succeeded in making a jelly that really seemed to\ntake his fancy.\n\nAt first there was little or no sign of improvement, yet he ate a very\nsmall portion of the jelly every day, and with this the anxious wife and\ndaughter had to be contented for some time. He had remained in this\nstate for weeks when Chloe resolved slightly to increase his portion.\nFinding that this did not disagree with him, but that, instead, he\nbecame a little stouter and a little better every day, she continued\ngradually giving him more and more.\n\nAt last she discovered that the more Crispin ate of this jelly, the\ngreater his appetite became. In fact, if the truth be told, the old\ngentleman became in time not only quite well and very stout but also\nsomewhat greedy. At all events, Chloe found that instead of being able\nto devote more time to her children, after restoring her husband's\nappetite, she had to give up more and more time to cooking. Crispin now\nspent the whole day in eating, and things went from bad to very bad, and\nfrom very bad to worse. Boadicea assisted her mother to the utmost, yet\nChloe, worked almost to death, was at length compelled to look out for a\nminder, in order that her children might not be entirely neglected.\n\nMany minders from all parts applied for employment, and, as a test of\ntheir skill, she set them the task of cheering the unfortunate Chad, who\nwas cutting all his double teeth at the same time. Some tried to cheer\nhim by singing to him, some by dancing to him; one even hoped to gladden\nthe boy by jumping over him backwards and with a pleasant smile dropping\non the grass in front of him. Again, some thought to distract him by\nrunning swiftly with him several times round the well, which only made\nhim very ill. Another energetic young minder stood on his head in front\nof the child for at least ten minutes, which, instead of cheering the\nlad, nearly frightened him to death. One minder, more experienced than\nthe rest, tried to make him forget his ache by giving him other aches to\nthink of with the aid of a slipper, which he maintained he had succeeded\nin doing. However, he was not elected, for, try as they would, no one\ncould discover for which ache the child was crying.\n\nMany methods were tried, but none with even the smallest success; in\nfact, the competition greatly increased the child's discomfort. His\nhowls became terrific, and so heartrending that, as a last resource,\nChloe sent for her nephew Bill, who cleaned the boots. Now no one had\nsuspected Bill of having the makings of a good minder in him, but it\nhappened that he knew Chad's little ways, and so, to everybody's\nsurprise and relief, he easily succeeded in keeping him quiet until all\nthe double teeth had been cut. Thereupon he was at once elected Minder\nto the family.\n\n[Illustration: HIS HOWLS BECAME TERRIFIC]\n\nBill soon proved that he was no ordinary minder. Having once started on\nhis new work, he took his profession very seriously. He read all the\nbooks that had ever been written upon the subject, which were to be\nfound in the library of the British Museum. He talked about it with the\nmost knowing professors of the subject, and he was as well known in the\nMinding Room of the Patent Museum at South Kensington as in his father's\nhouse. And it is even said that he once contrived to be shut in all\nnight by hiding behind a case of red coral rattles when the policeman\ncame round at dusk to shut and lock the doors.\n\nMoreover, as you can see for yourselves in the pictures, he was always\ninventing new ways of minding his charges. So expert did he become in\ntime that he was never at a loss with the most fractious, and easily\nsurpassing all rivals, he became the most perfect minder of the\ndistrict.\n\nBill's fame spread to the most distant towns, and worrited mothers for\nmiles around flocked to him with their children. He was most successful\nin distracting the vaccinated, and under his care young tooth-cutters\nsoon forgot their troubles. Even the pangs of indigestion were allayed\nand the fretfulness of the sleepless lulled to rest by the charm of his\nways. Short tempers were lengthened, and terrified midnight wakers were\ntaught to realise how ridiculous were their fears. Screechers ceased to\nscreech, and grizzlers to grizzle, while weepers and howlers reformed\ntheir habits and learnt to chuckle throughout the day.\n\nIf any one could mind, Bill could!\n\nBut life was not all condensed milk and honey to Bill. Like all good\nminders and men, he had the bad fortune to arouse the jealousy of\nrivals. The unvarying success which met his clever treatment of the most\ndifficult cases, instead of arousing the admiration of his brother\nminders, as one would have expected, and making them eager to imitate\nhim, only had the effect of making them very cross and jealous. Some,\nindeed, became so wild that they had to be minded themselves, while\nothers neglected their charges and wandered about the country in a\ndreadful state of grumpiness, biting their nails to the quick, and\ntearing their hair or anything else they could get hold of.\n\nThe time now arrived for the great annual Minding Tournament, held by\nthe Duke to celebrate his birthday, to which every one had been looking\nforward all through the year. Few people have ever been so delighted\nover being born as was the Duke, and this was how he most liked to show\nhis joy and thankfulness. The prizes and cups were usually subscribed\nfor by the mothers and fathers, but this year was a very special\noccasion, for the Duke, having arrived at the age of sixty, had decided\nto present a gold-mounted feeding-bottle to be competed for during the\ntournament.\n\nEverybody was there; the Duke and his Duchess with a handsome bouquet of\nmarigolds and groundsel, presented by the wives of the policemen; the\nDuchess's cousin, the chatty old Viscount, and his sweet young wife; the\nstout old Marquis who (as every lady knows) is also admiral of the\nRegent's Canal, and his six old-maid daughters, who all arrived in bath\nchairs. The general was there, as a matter of course, with all his\nmedals beautifully polished, and his pockets full of Pontefract cakes\nand peardrops to throw to the children. At least twelve bishops were\npresent, besides the vicar and his eight kind curates, who made\nthemselves extremely pleasant to every one.\n\nAll the mothers and fathers of the neighbourhood were present, and\nminders were continually arriving to compete for the prizes. There were\nat least one hundred policemen to keep order, and the music was provided\nby the band of the militia, lent for this occasion by the kind-hearted\ngeneral. Each member of the band performed on a separate harmonium\nborrowed from the vicar. Refreshments also could be had by every one who\ncould prove that he or she was hungry.\n\n[Illustration: ALWAYS INVENTING NEW WAYS OF MINDING]\n\nThe first event was the egg-and-spoon race, which was decided in the\nfollowing way. A well-pinched baby and a glass of milk were placed at\nthe end of the course, and each competitor had to run to them balancing\na new-laid egg on a spoon; when he had reached them, he had to beat up\nthe egg in the glass of milk and pacify the child with the beverage. The\ncompetitor who did it in the shortest time won the prize.\n\nSome murmurings were heard when it was announced that Bill had won by\ntwo-and-a-half minutes, but these were soon drowned by the cheers of\nthe crowd and the music of the harmoniums.\n\n[Illustration: YOUNG TOOTH-CUTTERS FORGOT THEIR TROUBLES]\n\nThe second event was the obstacle race, in which each competitor had to\nrun with three babies in his arms along a course strewn with\nperambulators full of children. Over the latter he had to climb, and\nhaving placed his three babies in an empty perambulator stationed at the\nend of the course, wheel them back the same way and empty them into the\narms of the Duke without a cry from the children.\n\nThe loud cheers of the crowd and the roar of the harmoniums this time\nhardly drowned the jeering of his rivals when it was proclaimed that\nBill had also won this race; and when he secured the gold-mounted\nfeeding-bottle, presented by the Duke, for minding seventeen\ntooth-cutters and three indigesters, and sending them all to sleep in\nthree hours and forty-five minutes, their rage was almost beyond their\ncontrol. The cheers, the hurrahs, and the clapping of hands, as well as\nthe soothing music of the harmoniums, only made them more disagreeable\nand spiteful.\n\nBut far worse was to happen when Bill presently carried off the great\ncup for remaining shut up in a bathing-machine with twelve vaccinated\nchildren for twelve hours. Then they quite lost their tempers, and Bill\nvery nearly lost his life. At least seven babies were hurled at him, as\nwell as the cup and the bathing-machine, and Bill was only saved by the\nseven mothers of the seven hurled babies, who rushed forward to grapple\nwith the hurlers, and carried Bill and the babies out of their reach.\n\nThis shocking disturbance caused the vicar and his eight kind curates to\nfaint, while the Duke, who, now having lost all interest in the\nproceedings, was only waiting to give away the prizes, turned quite\nwhite, and at once drove off with the Duchess in his motor, and never\nagain referred to the subject. The general stripped off his medals in\ndespair, and gave them away to the children to cut their teeth with. The\nchatty old Viscount became dumb with astonishment, and the twelve\nbishops, with heads erect and half-closed eyes, walked off to their\ncathedrals. The harmoniums were all put out of tune and quite spoilt by\nthe efforts of the bandsmen to drown the noise, and the tournament was\ncompletely broken up.\n\nAfter this, as might have been foreseen, no mother would entrust the\ncare of her children to any one but Bill, who became the only minder of\nthe district. What became of the rivals no one ever knew for certain,\nthough it has been said that they all emigrated to a desolate island in\nthe Dead Sea, and clothed themselves in crocodile's hide with the rough\nand knobby side worn against the skin, sleeping at night on beds of\nflints with coverlets made of stinging nettles. It is also said that\nthey nagged and threw stones at each other all through the day, and for\nvery rage would eat nothing but thistles, uncooked and with the prickles\nleft on, and drink nothing but cold vinegar for the rest of their\nwretched lives.\n\n[Illustration: THE ONLY MINDER OF THE DISTRICT]\n\nAnother story has it that Bill's jealous rivals all embarked for Mount\nVesuvius, with the intention of committing suicide by plunging into the\nburning crater. But standing on its edge and gazing therein, they all\nsuddenly altered their minds and walked back down the mountain side to\nPompeii or Herculaneum, where they were supposed to have settled and\nmarried, and repented, let us hope, of their unkind and unreasonable\nbehaviour.\n\nWhether either of these stories is true or not, it is certain that the\nrivals disappeared altogether from the country. Unmolested, Bill now\ndevoted all his days to minding, and Randall, Noah, Knut, Biddulph,\nNero, Ratchett, Hannibal, Quentin, Chad, and his innumerable other\ncharges never left him, but wandered with him everywhere, even in his\ndreams.\n\nSuch a minder was Bill!\n\n[Illustration: tailpiece]\n\n * * * * *\n\n[Illustration: THE KING OF TROY]\n\n[Illustration: headpiece]\n\n\n\n\nTHE KING OF TROY\n\n\nNow it happened one morning as Bill was shepherding his little flock\nacross the downs, whither they loved to ramble on a fine summer's day,\nthat Hannibal, Quentin, and Boadicea came running up to him with the\nwonderful tidings that they had discovered a real golden crown lying on\nthe top of a hayrick. Bill hastened to the spot, and there, sure enough,\nwas a most beautiful crown, ornamented with what he took to be\npriceless gems. Looking all round and seeing no one to whom it might\nbelong, he climbed the rick and attempted to remove the treasure. But,\ntry as he would, it still resisted his efforts, until at last, with one\nmighty wrench, he seemed to elicit a groan from the depths of the rick,\nand presently the crown arose apparently of its own accord and disclosed\nthe head of an aged man firmly fixed therein. Soon his neck, then his\nshoulders appeared, as gradually the old fellow lifted himself from his\nplace of hiding and climbed down the sides of the rick and stood\ntrembling in the midst of the children, who now wonderingly gathered\nround him.\n\nHaving recovered from his agitation, and being greatly encouraged by\nBill's kindly inquiries and genial manners, the royal old boy proceeded\nto account for his strange appearance on the downs.\n\n'Prepare yourselves, you bantlings, and you, their noble curator, for\nthe most astounding revelations; and those of you who are nerveful or\nsoftish in any way, hide your chubby heads in this old rick, that no\nword of my story of woes may enter your ears and so curdle your simple\nminds.'\n\nAt this young Chad and some of the others set up a terrible hullabaloo,\nbut Bill soon comforted them, and then, seated in a circle on the grass\naround the old fellow, they made themselves comfortable and prepared to\nlisten to his story.\n\n'Are you all fit?' demanded the old gent. 'Yes,' shouted Bill and his\ncharges in reply. 'Well, here goes then.' And he commenced his tale in\nthe following way:--\n\n'I am that King of Troy who ruled over his subjects with such wisdom and\njustice that the greatest happiness prevailed amongst them!'\n\n[Illustration: HE CLIMBED THE RICK]\n\n'We've heard that before,' murmured Chad, but ignoring the interruption,\nthe King of Troy continued his story:--\n\n'Safely protected from baseness of every description, from robbery, from\nthe ill effects of envy, and from unworthy tricksters of every colour,\nby the stern, yet just rule under which they happily lived, the Trojans\nthrove and pursued their various trades with unvarying success. All\namassed a considerable fortune, and as their wealth increased, so did\ntheir pride in the beloved city of their birth. All contributed most\nwillingly to the upkeep of their sovereign, and the ever-increasing\nstate which I was expected to hold was paid for down to the last\nfarthing by the noble fellows.\n\n'The well-meaning creatures at length gave no rest to their poor old\nking, and as their prosperity grew, they raised him to a more and more\nexalted, and at the same time increasingly uncomfortable, position above\nthem. Heavier and heavier grew the robes of state to suit the swelling\ndignity of the city: more and more overloaded with gold, with jewels,\nwith filigree silver and enamelled bronze became the crown, until so\nponderous had grown the regalia that I could hardly support it. But no\npity had the gallant lads. Mistaking the signs of my gradually drooping\nspirits for the signs of undue modesty, they slapped me on the back\nagain and again, and with joyful shouts endeavoured to instil into my\ndejected soul some of their own abundant ardour.\n\n'With my own personal dignity, the number of ceremonials and functions I\nwas expected to endure also increased. Town hall after town hall was\nbuilt, and bazaars without end were held especially to be opened by\nmyself. But in time even this doubtful relaxation ceased, and so high\ndid my subjects raise me that few of them dared to approach me, and then\nonly on bended knees. As for speaking familiarly with me, none had the\ntemerity to attempt it. Perpetual state I was now compelled to keep, and\nnever for an instant permitted to leave my throne or doff my royal\nrobes, except for one short hour in the morning to perform ablutions in\nthe regal tub, and even then I was not allowed to remove my crown.\nSeated on my throne from morning until night, overburdened by the weight\nof my crown and the heavily brocaded and bejewelled robes, I felt as\nlonely as a stranded limpet in the middle of the Sahara desert.\n\n'At last things came to such a pass, that, except perhaps to bring me\nfood or drink, not one of my subjects would dare to draw nearer than to\nthe outer door of my ante-room, and even there they would fall upon\ntheir faces and grovel in the dust and quake, so that the very clicking\nof their bones could be distinctly heard from my place upon the throne,\nas they trembled in every joint.\n\n'Ah, how I missed the old days,--the cheerful cup of tea, the pipe of\nbaccy and the homely game of dominoes with that primest of all Prime\nMinisters. How gladly would I have snatched from the royal board the\ndainties now prepared for me,--the asparagus truffles, the prawn\ncutlets, the anchovy jelly, and suchlike, and hurled from me the trivial\nand shimmering mass, tweaking my old rascal of a waiter by the nose, and\ncalling for a hunk of bread and some cheese. Even my sparkling and\nfrolicsome old chum, the Prime Minister, had seemingly quite forgotten\nour loyal chumship and never appeared before me now except upon his\nhands and knees and with his head bent low to the ground. And what of my\nold friend the Secretary of State? Where were his gibes, his playful\nfancies, his quirks and rare conceits, the droll! Alas, only rarely now\ncould I glimpse the rogue, and with real sorrow did I see his erstwhile\nbonny and jovial old face distorted by expressions of the most abject\nservility. And that respectful mute, the Minister of Education, does he\ndream that I forget his winsome pranks and jokes? Does he imagine for a\nmoment that those glorious evenings, when the four of us used to meet\nand gladden the very stars by the sounds of our joviality, were nothing\nto me? Alas, in my solitude what would have befallen me but for those\nsweet memories!\n\n[Illustration: HE COMMENCED HIS TALE]\n\n'One evening the Prime Minister appeared on his hands and knees at the\ndoor of the throne-room, bearing on a little plate upon his back the\nslight supper that was served to me in this strange manner every\nevening. With drooping head, and visibly quaking with awe, he gradually\ncrawled near, and when at the foot of the throne placed the supper (a\nmere anchovy truffle on toast) before me and fell flat on his face,\nwrithing at my feet.\n\n'Who can describe my feelings as I bent over him and witnessed this\ndegradation, this prostration before me, of one who had revelled with\nme, who had slapped me on the back in pure amity, and who, in days of\nyore, had gambolled, frisked, and carolled the most enchanting glees\nwith me. A great hot tear fell from my left eye as I gazed, and the\nstartled wretch leapt to his feet as it splashed upon his bald crown and\ntrickled down its glossy sides, leaving a red and glowing spot where it\nhad fallen. No words of mine could describe the misery expressed on the\nface of the unhappy man as he took one hasty glance at me, full of the\ndeepest meaning, and rushed from the room weeping bitterly. Alas! he,\ntoo, remembered.\n\n'No heart had I now for the anchovy truffle, nor indeed for the toast,\nboth of which I tossed lightly from me. I gave up my mind to most\nmelancholy reflections. Night drew on, and one by one I could hear the\nministers and domestics creeping up stealthily to bed, and at nine\no'clock all the electric lights in the palace were switched off, and I\nwas left in total darkness and in solitude. Still I brooded on my\nthrone, unable to sleep for the weight of my robes and for the sad\nthoughts that passed through my mind, and mechanically counted the hours\nas they stole slowly by.\n\n'At length the clock in the hall downstairs struck eleven, and as the\nlast beat echoed through the empty rooms, a light appeared underneath\nthe door opposite the throne. Little heed did I give to this at first,\nimagining that one of the ministers, on retiring, had omitted to remove\nhis boots and leave them in the hall, and was now returning to place\nthem there. The light, however, remained, and to my increasing\nwonderment some one tried the handle of the door, which was then opened\nvery cautiously and in there crept, on hands and knees, my old friend\nthe Prime Minister. As soon as he was well within the room and had\nquietly closed the door, he leapt to his feet and executed the most\nastonishing capers that were ever danced. With the liveliest\nsatisfaction expressed all over his mobile features, he pirouetted round\nthe room with the greatest animation, and daringly accomplished the\ngiddiest somersaults that were ever turned. At last, nearly exhausted\nwith this vigorous performance, he ran up to the throne, grasped me by\nthe hand, which he wrung most heartily, and for all the world was his\ngood old self again.\n\n'He now bade me follow him, and in utter silence we both crept out of\nthe throne-room, through the ante-room, down the stairs, across the\nhall, and out by the front door into the garden.\n\n'We now traversed the terrace and crossed the tennis lawn, and stepping\ngently across the Rhododendron beds, scrambled as carefully as possible\nover the barbed-wire fence and found ourselves in the kitchen garden.\nPassing through innumerable beds of cabbages, beetroots, turnips,\nbrussels sprouts, and broccoli, we at last stood in front of an old\nbroken-down hen-house. The Minister knocked very gently three distinct\ntimes and gave a low musical call, which was immediately answered from\nwithin. The door now opened just sufficiently to admit one person at a\ntime, and the Prime Minister crept in, dragging me after him, and then\nclosing the door as quickly and as quietly as possible.\n\n'You may imagine my surprise when I discovered my two other old cronies\nseated amongst the hay newly strewn on the floor, the fat old roosters\nchortling wisely the while on their perches in the roof of the shed. Two\nor three candles, that were glued with their own fat on the stakes that\nwere driven securely into the ground, together with an old stable\nlantern suspended from the roof, served to light up the interior. A\nsquat and homely kettle was simmering cheerily in front of some glowing\nembers in the centre of the floor awaiting the brewing of a stout cup of\ntea, and the dominoes were all ready for a rattling game as of old.\n\n'Nothing could exceed the joy of the dear old boys, as they gripped me\nby the hand and punched me first on the chest and again on the back from\npure joy, forgetting all the awe with which they had regarded me for so\nlong since, and only remembering the many happy times we had spent\ntogether in days of yore,--those far-off happy days, before I had been\nso terribly, so uncomfortably exalted by my subjects.\n\n'As soon as I had made myself pretty comfortable, the Minister of\nEducation reached up, and taking one of the old chickens from its perch,\nquickly killed it, plucked it and trussed it, and then, suspending it\nover the embers by a piece of string from the roof, turned it round and\nround gently until it was done to a T.\n\n'What a time we had in that old shed to be sure. After demolishing the\nchicken we played the most exciting games of dominoes until we were\ntired of them, then cats' cradles, then honey-pots, and then touch wood.\nAnd what could have been more refreshing than those cups of tea! And\nwhat more invigorating than the Pontefract cakes, the slabs of cocoanut\nice, and sheets of almond hard-bake that we crunched between the games!\nAnd the songs and choruses with which we shook the crazy old hen-house\nto its rotting foundations! My word! How we trolled them out!\n\n'When our joy was at its height, and we were carolling the inimitable\nchorus of that more than glorious old song of the country-side, \"Waiting\nfor the Guinea Fowl,\" we were suddenly reminded of the approach of day\nby the loud crowing of the old cock over our heads, and peeping at once\nout of the door we perceived that already the dawn had advanced and\nlightened the eastern sky.\n\n[Illustration: WHAT A TIME WE HAD]\n\n'Without a moment's hesitation, the guttering candles were\nextinguished, and I was hurried back to the palace. But only just in\ntime, for as I mounted the steps of my throne I could hear the lazy\nsteps of the boot-boy as he unwillingly crawled downstairs to his work.\n\n'In the course of the day the Egg Counter to the Royal Household was\ndragged grovelling before me, complaining that the foxes had stolen one\nof the chickens under his care. I ordered the treasurer to disburse 9d.\nfor a trap and dismissed the grinning churl, who little guessed the\nbreed of foxes which had made away with his bird.\n\n'Night after night the four of us, unsuspected of any, now sought the\nhen-house, and forgot the harassing troubles of state in the pure joys\nof friendship. After killing, roasting, and supping off one of the birds\nas on our first meeting, we abandoned ourselves to the heartiest\nrevelry, only to be awakened to the cold everyday world by the crowing\nof the old bantam.\n\n'During the daytime my friends resumed their deferential and almost\nservile demeanour, and nothing remained to remind me of the revels of\nthe night before but the troubles of the Egg Counter, who now came to me\nevery day with a fresh complaint that yet another of his birds had\ndisappeared.\n\n'And now begins the narration of the most terrible of all my trials. One\nnight--how well can I remember it, it was on the eve of that very day\nwhen the mighty King of the Persians and all his court were coming to\nspend the week-end with us, in order to celebrate my sixty-fifth\nbirthday--we met as usual in the hen-house, and discovered to our dismay\nthat we had demolished all the fowls with the exception of the old cock.\nAfter some discussion, and regardless of consequences, we decided to\ntreat him as we had already treated his brothers and sisters, and in a\nvery little time nothing was left of the tough old biped but bones, beak\nand feathers. Heedless of the morrow, we now gave ourselves up to the\nwildest enjoyment. Discarding such simple games as dominoes and\nhoney-pots, we now indulged in the more thrilling joys of leap-frog,\nHunt the Stag, Red Rover, Robbers and Thieves, and you would not believe\nme were I to tell you the amount of toffee, brandy-snaps, bull's eyes,\nand Edinburgh rock that we absorbed in the course of this agreeable\nevening.\n\n'Enlivened, no doubt, by the thought that to-morrow was my birthday, my\nexcitement was intense, and communicating itself to my prankful cronies,\nit electrified their old bones in the most amazing manner.\n\n'How long we should have kept it up, it is, of course, impossible for me\nto say, but we were suddenly brought to a standstill by a loud knocking\non the door of the shed and the sound of a great concourse of people on\nthe other side. On opening the door I nearly fainted in my horror, for\nwhom should I behold but the King of Persia and all his court, and as\nfar as the eye could reach the faces of the Trojans all lit up by the\nmorning sun, staring intently at the shed. Alas, we had eaten the old\ncock, our only timepiece, many hours ago, and without our knowledge the\nday had dawned and grown to midday.\n\n'Who shall describe my profound mortification, as I observed the look of\nsorrow on the King of Persia's noble countenance, or the distress with\nwhich I viewed the agonised disappointment of my subjects as they beheld\ntheir king, whom they one and all delighted to honour, playing leap-frog\nin a hen-house.\n\n'It appeared that on the arrival of the King of Persia, they had all\nproceeded in lordly procession with bands playing and flags flying to\nthe throne-room, and not finding me there they had hunted everywhere for\nme, high and low, until at last, guided by the sounds of revelry in the\nhen-house, they discovered my wretched self in the ignominious position\nI have already described.\n\n'I was now seized by two of the Persian guards at the command of their\nmonarch and marched off to the Palace, a lane being opened for me\nthrough the crowds of my silent and sorrowing subjects.\n\n'A council was very hurriedly called together, at which it was decided\nthat I should be banished for ever from the city of Troy for so\ndemeaning the exalted position to which I had been elevated, by my\nfrolics in the hen-house, and that henceforth the King of Persia should\nreign in my stead.\n\n'Stripping my royal robes from me (they were compelled to leave my crown\non, for it was so firmly fixed that it would not come off, try as they\nwould), they now bandaged my eyes, and, with the only baggage I was\nallowed to take, tied up in an old patch-work quilt, they led me forth.\nPast crowds of my subjects, who now gave way to the most heartfelt\nsorrow, I was led, through the old gates of my beloved city and far out\ninto the country. After we had travelled for about thirty miles my\nconductors at last removed the bandage from my eyes and left me to my\ndespair, alone in the wilderness.\n\n'Sinking to the ground, I wept bitterly for three-quarters of an hour,\nwhen hunger beginning to assert itself, I started upon this long\njourney, which has at length brought me to you.\n\n'For many months have I travelled, often compelled to ask the way or beg\nassistance of the merest strangers, until at last,' concluded the old\ngentleman, 'as I was resting to-day in the shadow of this rick, I saw\nyou all coming over the hill, and mistaking you for the legions of the\nKing of Persia sent to hunt me down, I hid myself in the top of the\nrick.'\n\nBill and all his charges were deeply moved at so harrowing a tale, and\nwillingly proffered any assistance they were capable of rendering to the\nunhappy old boy.\n\n[Illustration: The King of Troy compelled to ask his way]\n\nThe King of Troy, now assured of the good faith of his new friends,\nunfolded to them a scheme he had formed to raise an army and to march on\nTroy, and so recover, if possible, his lost power. Bill at once offered\nhis services and was created commander-in-chief on the spot, and calling\nfor volunteers, was answered by one great shout of joy from all his\ncharges, every one of whom enlisted there and then in the new army of\nthe King of Troy.\n\nChad, Hannibal, Randall, Noah, Ratchett, Nero, Biddulph, and Knut were\neach promoted to the rank of officers as a matter of course, while the\ngentle Boadicea was deputed to look after the old King, whose comfort\nwas now her greatest aim in life.\n\n[Illustration: tailpiece]\n\n[Illustration: vignette]\n\n * * * * *\n\n[Illustration: THE ANCIENT MARINER]\n\n[Illustration: headpiece]\n\n\n\n\nTHE ANCIENT MARINER\n\n\nThe next thing to be done was certainly to make the old King\ncomfortable, so Bill took him home, and the good Chloe dosed him well\nwith hot gruel, and made him put his feet in hot water, and sent him to\nbed. After remaining snugly tucked up for a few days, the cheerful old\nsoul was ready and eager to start with his new army for Troy.\n\nIn the meantime Bill, with the assistance of Crispin, had constructed a\nwonderful perambulator, in which the King could be conveyed with his\nluggage and such comforts as would be necessary for the old man during\nhis progress.\n\nHaving secured the permission of Crispin and Chloe, and of the other\nparents concerned (most of whom seemed only too glad to get rid of the\nlot), Bill, the King, and all the gallant young soldiers started on\ntheir adventurous journey. Loud were the shouts of admiration as the\nbrave creatures marched down the village street; and at last, when they\nhad entirely disappeared, the place seemed suddenly so quiet and dull\nthat all retired to their bedrooms and gave way to tears.\n\nHowever, our duty is to follow the young braves. Having marched along\nthe road across the Downs for some distance, they met the strangest\ncouple,--a kind-looking old gentleman who, to judge from his appearance,\nhad spent the greater part of his life upon the ocean, carrying in his\narms, carefully and tenderly as though he were a frail young baby,\nanother man, with the saddest and most thoughtful face that you ever\nbeheld. Such touching kindness deeply affected all who witnessed it, and\nBill at once greeted the good gentleman, and begged of him to account to\nthem for his very strange appearance on the country road.\n\n'Sirs,' said the Ancient Mariner, as he placed his burden lovingly on\nthe ground, 'my name is Jack, Plain Jack, and I am the ninth mate of the\nSwedish ship _Turnip_, a brig-rigged barquentine, that sailed from\nCherry Garden Pier for Margate with a cargo of camels, in the year 1840,\nand has never since been heard of.\n\n'Though a born sailor, I succeeded my father in what was one of the best\ncorn-chandler's businesses in that part of Barking. By my industry and\nthrift I, in time, so bettered my position and improved my business that\nI felt fully entitled to settle down and enter into the state of\nmatrimony. For some years I had had my eye on the enchanting Jane\nOsbaldistone de Trevor, whose father kept a large brill farm by Barking\nCreek,--in fact, the largest of the many brill farms that used, in those\ndays, to line the river from Limehouse Reach to Cherry Garden Pier.\n\n'His wealth and importance did not deter me from aspiring to the hand of\nhis fascinating daughter; and why should they have done so? Was not I in\nthe very promising position of owning the largest corn-chandler's store,\nfrom Wapping Old Stairs even as far down as Barking Creek? And then,\nagain, was not I as well born as he, for did not my ancestors chandle\ncorn in Barking long before the De Trevors had crossed the Channel, when\nthey may, indeed, have earned a precarious livelihood by letting\nbathing-machines on the beach at Boulogne?\n\n'Nevertheless, on my broaching the subject to the old gentleman, he\nthrew every conceivable obstacle in my way, and made conditions that\nwere wellnigh impossible of being carried out. \"If,\" said he, \"you can\nbring to me, within the next few years, some object more wonderful than\nanything in the Bethnal Green Museum,--some object beside which St.\nPaul's Cathedral, the Monument, the Tower of London, or the Tower Bridge\nwill be as uninteresting as an old one-bladed pocket-knife,--then you\nshall marry my daughter, but not otherwise\"; and he chuckled to himself,\nknowing only too well that he had wellnigh dashed my hopes for ever.\n\n'But, after all, little did he know Plain Jack. Disappointed, but with\nsome hope yet of claiming the lovely Jane, I sold my business for a\nconsiderable sum of money, which I took with me in my sea-chest, and\nsigned on as Cabin Boy aboard the Swedish ship, _Turnip_, fully\ndetermined to travel all over the world, if necessary, in order to\nfulfil the conditions imposed upon me by the irritating old gentleman.\n\n'Foreseeing well how useful my superior officers might be to me in my\nquest, I resolved, as far as possible to deserve their good-will, and I\nbehaved with such exemplary conduct that before we had passed Greenwich\nHospital I was promoted to the rank of twelfth mate.\n\n'Still persevering in my good intentions, I performed many little acts\nof kindness, such as brewing the captain a cup of tea when he least\nexpected it, and handing round to the officers and crew bars of colt's\nfoot rock, a supply of which I took good care to bring with me. I\nrepeat, so continually attentive was I, that, before we had passed the\nNore, I was promoted to the rank of eleventh mate.\n\n'Off Herne Bay, I was still further able to gratify the captain and\nofficers by pointing out to them the various public buildings and places\nof interest, which I had visited only last year during a delightful\nweek-end trip. So delighted were they all that, before sighting Margate,\nI was promoted to the rank of tenth mate.\n\n'On arriving at Margate, numerous merchants came along the jetty in\nbath-chairs to examine our cargo. None, however, wanted to buy camels;\nall wanted donkeys for the sands. In spite of the captain's argument,\nthat camels were much more used to sand than donkeys, having spent the\nbest part of their lives on the sands of the desert, the merchants were\nobdurate, and we had to sail away again with our camels. We also now\ncarried with us a shipload of Carraway Comfits, which we had purchased\nat Margate, hoping to be able to dispose of them at some port, and so\ncompensate ourselves for the loss of business at Margate.\n\n[Illustration: I SIGN ON AS CABIN BOY]\n\n'For many days we sailed on and on, out through the Yarmouth Roads into\nthe Persian Gulf, one incident alone standing out vividly in my memory\nduring this part of the voyage. It was the dog watch, on a lovely summer\nevening; we were making little way, just sufficient to enliven the\nwhitebait that leapt and prattled round our prow, or disturb a lazy\nbrill that dozed upon our course. Here and there the spotted tunny\nwould leap several yards from the sea, to descend again with a mighty\nsmack upon the waters. From afar, borne upon the gentle breeze, came the\nlow grizzle of the sperm-whale as it herded its young, or the thud of\nthe mighty sword-fish, as it drove home the deadly weapon with which\nNature, knowing its own ends, has provided him; while, mellowed by even\ngreater distance, the high-pitched yell of the land-cod and the shriek\nof its maddened prey, could now and again be heard. I was lazily\nreclining among the peak halyards, whittling out a mermaid's head from\na piece of hard-boiled gannet's egg, which I intended to send to Jane,\nshould a passing vessel give me such an opportunity. Full of peace, and\nimbued with the calm that pervaded the sea and the sky, I was hardly\nprepared for the shock in store for me. Suddenly, without any warning, I\nwas jerked from my position among the halyards, and flung head-first\ninto the sea. Down, and down I went, until, nearly exhausted, I made one\ngreat effort to come to the surface. When at last I reached it, I found\nthat from some unknown cause the ship had been tilted nearly on to its\nside, and thus had sent me almost to the bottom of the sea.\n\n'To climb on deck and ascertain the cause of the disaster was the work\nof a moment. It transpired that the cargo of carraway comfits had got\nshifted and was mixed up with the camels. The captain was asleep at the\ntime, and every one else seemed to lose his wits, so I at once took the\nmatter into my own hands, and descended into the hold with twelve picked\nmen.\n\n'The plight of the camels was sad indeed to see. Some were fearfully\nchafed with the comfits, thus proving with what force the latter must\nhave been showered upon them by the shifting of the cargo. Fortunately,\nhowever, although it was very black in the ship's hold, the camels were\neasily distinguished from the comfits, and it was only a work of\npatience and a little time to sift them and so right the ship again.\n\n'When the captain awakened and learnt how I had saved the ship, his\ngratitude knew no bounds, and he still further promoted me by making me\nhis ninth mate.\n\n'For years we sailed from port to port, taking in one cargo here,\nanother there, occasionally with some advantage to ourselves, but more\noften with none at all, and never with any good fortune attending me in\nmy quest. When we were about thirty days' sail out from Guatemala, and,\nas far as I could tell, in latitude 195 and longitude 350 (that is,\nabout 60 degrees east of the Equator), we encountered a storm which\nbrought me to the successful accomplishment of my quest. It was four\nbells and my watch below, so I had gone aloft in the mizzen shrouds, and\nwith my feet resting idly on the top-gallant backstay, holding securely\nto the weather topsail reeftackle, I munched a tunny sandwich, a few of\nwhich I had prevailed upon the steward to cut for me. Under a clear sky,\nwe were making roughly, I should say, about 335 knots, and it was\nalready blowing half a gale; a choppy sea was running, yet, except for\nthe clots of spindrift, that now and again hurtled against the mast,\nthere was no real promise of the storm to come; so I went on with my\nsandwiches.\n\n'We were now sailing close-hauled under double-reefed main storm\ntopsails and fore and aft main staysails, keeping a good course and\nshipping very little water, when, suddenly, I beheld on the horizon,\nwell to windward, a little cloud no larger than a tomato,--the English\ntomato, I mean, not the foreign species, though it rapidly attained that\nsize. It grew larger and larger until it was quite the size of a\nfull-grown vegetable marrow; yet, little recking that it contained the\nseeds of the terrible tempest that was so soon to overwhelm us, I still\nwent on with my sandwiches.\n\n[Illustration: I WENT ON WITH MY SANDWICHES]\n\n'Presently the gale increased, and the seas swelled up to the size of\nLudgate Hill. Whole shoals of the passive skate arose to the surface and\nflopped warningly about our vessel. To leeward could be seen flocks of\nthe wild sea shrike, whose ominous bark could be distinctly heard above\nthe snort of the coming tempest. By now the cloud had half filled the\nheavens; the seas rose higher and higher; the din was terrific, as the\nwind tore from the sea shoal upon shoal of the shy sardine and whirled\nthem through the air. Soon the ship was drenched in the high seas that\ncontinually broke over her and the quarts and quarts of rain that\nwolloped from the dense cloud now covering the whole sky and blotting\nout all light.\n\n'At last came the order from the captain, who now realised the danger\nthat threatened his vessel. \"Up helm,\" roared he, through his\nspeaking-trumpet, \"clew up the lee braces of the topsail halyards; haul\nout the reef tackle and brail up the spanker.\" But the command came too\nlate. The fore-topsail studding booms went by the board, carrying with\nthem the bowsprit, the main mast, the fo'c's'le, the top-gallant\nstudding-sail halyard, and the captain's tobacco-pouch, which had been\nplaced upon the bowsprit earlier in the afternoon. Nothing could now be\nseen except, here and there, the gleam on some fish as it was whirled,\nwith the masts, men, boots, screws, sharks, thimbles, sea anemones,\nwatch-chains, ship's stores, planks, and other miscellaneous objects,\nthrough the sky. I had barely finished my last sandwich when, lo,\neverything became a blank to me and I lost all consciousness.\n\n'How long I remained thus I cannot say, but I awakened on the sandy\nshore of some island, upon which I had been thrown by the force of the\nwind. Nothing could I see of my companions: a few planks and spars and\nmy own wretched self were all that remained to tell the tale of the good\nship _Turnip_.\n\n'The wind had dropped, and it was a beautiful morning, not a trace of\nthe storm remaining, only here and there the panting of the crayfish, as\nthey nestled behind the rocks, or the gasping of the oysters telling of\nthe strain they had undergone. I gazed along the shore in each\ndirection, hoping to discover a bathing-machine, and so satisfy myself\nthat the island was inhabited. Nothing was in sight, however, so I lay\ndown again and dozed. When I awoke once more it was high noon, and the\nvertical rays of the sun warned me that it was time to take shelter. I\nraised myself on one arm with this intention, when I became aware of a\nstrange figure, dressed in a long robe and with a great turban, who was\nseated on a rock near by, gazing out to sea.\n\n'I got to my feet with considerable difficulty as I was faint with\nhunger and stiff in the limbs, and was about to approach the object,\nwhen I discovered two more figures, who evidently had the same\nintention. Seemingly they did not wish to be observed by the singular\ncreature I have already described, for they were stealthily approaching\nhim from behind, creeping from rock to rock. I at once stooped down\nbehind a great star-fish, determined to watch unobserved.\n\n'I now noticed that both were savages, and that one of them held close\nto his body an old, rusty kitchen-range; while the other carried, in one\nhand, a basket of coals, and with the other supported a huge, iron\nsauce-pan across his shoulders. Nearer and nearer drew the cannibals (as\nI soon guessed them to be) to their intended victim, who, however,\neither because he did not hear them, or did not dread them, took no\nnotice at all. Presently they were crouching down behind him, and he was\nstill apparently unconscious of their presence. Then, with a wild whoop\nthey leapt into the air, and dropped on the ground in front of him. Even\nnow the amazing creature took no notice of the cannibals or their\nantics, as they danced and yelled around him. Soon realising that there\nwas something very unusual in his reception of them, they stared in awe\nand amazement at him for some time, and then fled in terror, leaving the\nsaucepan, the kitchen-range and the other cooking utensils behind them.\n\n'They ran along the sands, and dropped behind a rock at a great distance\naway, where they remained completely hidden for some long time.\nPresently, however, one black head appeared for an instant above the\nrock, and gazed in the direction of the thoughtful creature by the sea.\nThis head was very quickly withdrawn from view and another popped\nup,--only to disappear as quickly. Then the first appeared again, and so\non. This continued until they had regained a little of their nerve, when\nI could see them once more crawling back to the abstracted figure on the\nshore. Again they drew very close to him, and now that they had\nsufficiently mastered their fears, they approached and examined him very\nclosely, and proceeded at once to prepare their evening meal. First of\nall they lit the fire, then they carefully placed their unresisting\nvictim in the saucepan, after filling it with water from the sea, and\nwere just about to lift it on to the range when I lost all patience, and\nshouted from my hiding-place, \"Hold!\" so many times in quick succession,\nand each time in a different tone of voice, that the cannibals must have\nthought there were at least thirty men or more in hiding. At any rate,\nthey fled in the most abject terror, never to return.\n\n'Giving them good time to disappear, I now emerged from my hiding-place\nand approached the absent-minded creature, gently lifting him from the\nsaucepan, in which I found him still sitting and gazing out to sea.\nGathering together many sea-urchins, rock-beetles, and branches of a\nsucculent sea-weed, with which the beach had been strewn by the recent\nstorm, I prepared an exquisite stew, and made a very hearty meal. I was\nalso able to induce my companion to take some, without, however,\nsucceeding in breaking his train of thought.\n\n[Illustration: FOR YEARS WE SAILED]\n\n'For many months no other friend had I than this preoccupied curiosity,\nwho seemed quite unable to give me any clue as to who he was or whence\nhe came. Perhaps he had been shipwrecked there in childhood--who\nknows?--and wandered there ever since, the wonder of every limpet or\nlugworm that squirmed upon those shores, or the sport of every mer-kid\nthat flipped a fin in those unknown waters.\n\n'To cut a long story short, I soon realised that here was the object I\nwas in search of, and that if this dreamy creature did not sufficiently\nastonish old De Trevor, and compel him to consent to my marrying his\ndaughter, nothing on this earth would do the deed, so I resolved to\nleave the island with my treasure as soon as I could make it possible to\ndo so. I set about making a raft, which I quickly succeeded in\ncompleting, having since my childhood had a great knack at the making of\nrafts, and, without undue delay, I embarked with my prize, provisioned\nwith as many shell-fish and branches of the succulent sea-weed as the\nraft would carry.\n\n'After some few months, and just as we had finished our last limpet, we\nhad the good fortune to be picked up by a tramp-steamer, bound for\nSaskatchewan from Mombasa, with a cargo of periwinkles. The captain was\nsuch a kind-hearted man that, on hearing my story he decided to go out\nof his course, and land us at Cherry Garden Pier; and so, my good\nfriends, after sixty years' sailing all over the globe, I arrived home\nagain, a poorer but a kinder man.\n\n[Illustration: The sport of every mer-kid]\n\n'You may be sure that I lost no time in seeking out Jane herself, with\nevery hope of at last being able to claim her hand, but alas!\ngentlemen,' said the Ancient Mariner, with a large, salt tear about to\nfall from each eye, and as he once more tenderly lifted his burden, 'I\nwas to find that Jane had become a very, very old woman, with many\nlittle grandchildren of her own, and that she had entirely\nforgotten my existence. She had me turned away from her doorstep as a\nraving madman, even with my interesting, absent-minded, and inseparable\ncompanion.\n\n'Thus, Good Sirs, I have to start life anew, and if my great experience\nshould be of any service to you, believe me, it is yours to command.'\n\n[Illustration: tailpiece]\n\n[Illustration: vignette]\n\n * * * * *\n\n[Illustration: THE TRIPLETS]\n\n[Illustration: headpiece]\n\n\n\n\nTHE TRIPLETS\n\n\nRight gladly were the services of the plucky old salt accepted by the\ngallant little band, and taking it in turns to relieve him of his\nburden, they jovially marched along. The way was enlivened by many a\ngood chorus, until the old King complained of a headache, when every one\nhad to be quiet and talk only in quite a low tone, while Boadicea\nsoothed the old fidget, and lulled him to sleep, by removing his crown\nand gently stroking the top of his head with a mint leaf, rolled into a\nlittle ball, and fastened to the end of a stem of sweet-briar. He\nawakened shortly after tea, very much refreshed for his nap, and every\none grew merry again.\n\nHe now, however, considerably delayed the progress of the expedition by\ninsisting on running after butterflies, and trying to catch them in his\ncrown. Though anxious enough to continue their journey, all the army\nawaited with great patience the pleasure of the old sportsman. At length\nKnut, who had been eagerly watching the King for some time, as he\nfrisked about the fields after the brightly-coloured insects, could not\nrestrain himself from doing likewise. Now Hannibal joined in the sport,\nthen Quentin, then Noah, then Ratchett, and, so exciting did the chase\nbecome, soon all the force were frantically running about the fields\nwith the lively monarch, while Boadicea remained by the carriage and\ndarned his old stockings.\n\nAt last the King grew tired, and they all came back to the road and\nresumed their march. The tiresome sovereign now insisted on the Ancient\nMariner removing his burden to the rear, complaining that the\nabsent-minded creature would stare at him, and that he did not wish to\nbe gazed at or wondered at. 'Time enough for that,' said he, 'when I'm\non my throne again.' Having effected this change in the order of the\nprocession, they now marched on without further interruption from the\nKing.\n\nTowards nightfall they drew near to the sea, on the shores of which they\nhoped to spend the night. Bill being, as usual, a little in advance of\nthe others, was the first to descend to the sands, seated on which he\ndiscovered, to his great astonishment, three young children weeping\nbitterly, and near to them, in the same state of grief, he beheld an\nold gentleman seated upon a rock. But what aroused his astonishment even\nmore than their extreme wretchedness, was the fact that the three\nchildren were all exactly alike in every particular,--the same size, the\nsame hair, the same eyes,--in fact, there was no perceptible difference\nof any kind between them. Now and again, one of the children would\nendeavour to comfort the old man, and he again would attempt to perform\nthe like kindly office for them. Wondering what could so upset such\nworthy creatures, Bill approached and besought them to confide to him\ntheir troubles, that he might try to relieve them to the best of his\nability. Their tears, however, effectually prevented them from replying\nat once to him. Giving them a little time to recover, Bill again\naddressed them. 'Who are you?' said he, and they all answered between\ntheir sobs, 'We are the Duchess of Blowdripping and her two sisters,\nMellinid and Edil.'\n\n'Which of you,' asked Bill, 'is the Duchess?'\n\n'That's what we don't know,' they replied. 'We only know that she is\nneither Mellinid nor Edil.'\n\n'Then who of you is Mellinid, and who Edil?' again queried the puzzled\nBill.\n\n'That's what all the trouble's about,' they tearfully rejoined. 'All we\ncan tell you for certain is that neither of them is the Duchess,' and\nthe poor little creatures redoubled their cries.\n\nMore puzzled than ever, and quite at a loss to find any clue to their\ntroubles, Bill again besought them to relieve their minds by confiding\nin him. Then one of the little creatures stood up and, after drying her\neyes, addressed Bill in the following way:--\n\n[Illustration: ENDEAVOURING TO COMFORT THE OLD MAN]\n\n'As you have most likely guessed, we are triplets, and were christened\nBlaura, Mellinid and Edil, after three great-aunts renowned for their\nintelligence and their many virtues. From our earliest days we were so\nmuch alike that each had to wear a different coloured hair-ribbon to\ndistinguish her from her sisters. Blaura wore red, Mellinid blue, and\nEdil green. Our affectionate parents, the late Duke and Duchess of\nBlowdripping, died when we were barely six months old, and we were all\nleft in charge of our uncle, the benevolent gentleman you see weeping on\nmy left. Before the thoughtful creatures expired, feeling that their end\nwas drawing near, they were faced with the difficult problem as to which\nof us should be the new Duchess; all of us, as I have said before, being\nof the same age. Of course, I need not tell you that it was quite out of\nthe question we should all inherit the title; three young ladies trying\nto be one duchess would be absurd in the extreme. So our intelligent and\nresourceful mother and father decided, after much deliberation with the\nfamily solicitor, and the vicar of the parish, that Blaura should\nsucceed to the title and all the dignities of the Duchy of Blowdripping\nwhen she arrived at the age of eight years, and that, at the same time,\nMellinid should become the owner of Blowdripping Hall, with its\npriceless collections of pictures, old china, fossils and foreign\nstamps, and Edil become the possessor of the Blowdripping Park, in which\nthe Hall is so pleasantly situated, with its herds of hedgehogs, elands\nand gnu. I am sure you will agree with me that no more just division of\ntheir great possessions could have been devised by the fair-minded\ncouple. Our uncle was kindness itself, ever watching us with the\naffectionate care of a mother. He was always at hand to look to our\ncomforts, and to see that no danger drew nigh, whether we were bathing\nin the marble fountains of the courtyard, taking the air in the park, or\nsleeping in our tastefully-decorated bedroom.\n\n'One beautiful summer's afternoon, when we were about one year old, we\nhad been taken on to the verandah to enjoy our afternoon nap, in order\nthat we might have advantage of the delightful breeze that blew across\nthe woods from the sea. As usual our uncle was near by, and so soothing\nwas the air that, unable to resist its drowsy influence, he, too, soon\ndozed off. Unfortunately we awakened before our unconscious nurse, and\nimmediately rolled out of our cradles, and crawled along the pavement of\nthe verandah. Great sport we had, I have no doubt, as children will, and\ncertain it is that, attracted by their brilliant colours, we lost no\ntime in removing from each other's heads our distinguishing ribbons, and\nspeedily mixing them up. However, at length, and too late, our baby\nlaughter awakened the old gentleman from his sleep. Too great for words\nwas the astonishment of the unhappy man when he beheld us all shuffled\nup and mixed in this deplorable way upon the pavement. Bitterly he\naccused himself of wicked negligence for allowing such a thing to\nhappen, for so alike were we without our distinguishing ribbons, that he\ncould never hope to know one from the other again. He thought, and\nthought, and thought for the whole afternoon, but at the end he was no\nnearer discovering again which was the future Duchess, which Mellinid,\nand which Edil. At last, he gave it up in despair. Henceforth we were\nknown only collectively as the future Duchess and her two sisters, but\nwhich is the Duchess, and which the two sisters, will remain for ever a\nmystery.\n\n[Illustration: WE GREW UP IN COMPARATIVE HAPPINESS]\n\n[Illustration: He was always at hand]\n\n'Nevertheless, we grew up in comparative happiness until yesterday, the\nfateful day when we all became eight years of age. Before\nbreakfast, and with all due solemnity, our faithful uncle handed over to\nus the control and guardianship of the Blowdripping possessions, which\nhad been entrusted to him until we should arrive at our present age,\nbut, alas! we could not avail ourselves of the good provision made for\nus by our thoughtful parents, as neither one of us knew which of us we\nwere. The Duchess, as head of the family, could not give her consent to\nanything, or advance any money for the housekeeping as, for all she\nknew, she might be one of her own sisters, in which case she would have\nbeen touching that which did not rightly belong to her. For the same\nreason Mellinid, not knowing who she herself was, could not give her\nconsent to our remaining at the Hall, and likewise Edil could not allow\nthe magnificent house still to occupy its lovely situation in the\nBlowdripping Park. After talking the matter over, and over again, we\nhave come to the conclusion that, without the permission of the proper\nowners, which, you will see, it is impossible for us to obtain, the only\ncourse open to us was to abandon our riches, and to leave the park and\nthe castle for ever. Our good uncle, putting all the blame for our\ntroubles upon his own negligence, insisted on accompanying us.'\n\nAt the conclusion of this strange story Bill was certainly aghast at the\nvery difficult problem put before him, and quite at a loss to offer any\nsolution. He therefore conducted the trembling triplets and their\ngrief-stricken uncle before the King, who had in the meantime arrived\nupon the shore. Bill explained the difficult position in which the poor\nyoung things found themselves; but, wise as he undoubtedly was, the King\nfor some time could make nothing whatever of it. He called all his\nofficers and soldiers round him, and they formed one great semicircle,\nof which he was the centre; the triplets were then placed before him,\nand he at once proceeded to question them.\n\n'Have you,' said he, addressing the first triplet, 'any idea as to which\nof the three of you you really are?'\n\n'None whatever,' answered the child.\n\nHe then repeated the same question to the other triplets, and received\nthe same answer.\n\n'Come now,' continued the King, in a cheerful voice, 'does any one of\nyou feel at all like a duchess?'\n\n'We don't know how a duchess should feel,' they all replied.\n\nThe King here frowned severely and ground his teeth.\n\n'Now, one of you must be telling an untruth,' said he, 'for one of you,\nas you say, is the Duchess, and must know exactly how she feels, which\nmust be how a duchess feels. Come now, which of you is she?' And the\nquick-tempered monarch knit his brows into the most terrible folds.\n'Unless that one is one of her own sisters and not the Duchess,' he\nroared, 'she ought to be ashamed of her deceit, and severely punished;\nand if, indeed, she is not the Duchess, then she ought to be punished\nall the same. I've half a mind to have the three of you smacked hard,\nthat I may at least be certain of punishing the right one.'\n\nBill suggested timidly that perhaps this would be rather unfair, as two\nof them at least would be unjustly punished.\n\n'But which two?' snapped the irritated King. 'How can any of them feel\nunjustly treated if she doesn't know whether she's the guilty one or\nnot?' And he worked himself into a terrible fury, and strode up and down\nthe sands, no one daring to approach him. Suddenly, without any warning\nof his intention, he ran down to the sea, and removing his shoes and\nstockings, cooled his temper by paddling his feet in the sea-water. In a\nlittle time he returned, his excitement much allayed, and soon the cries\nof the distracted and unhappy triplets, together with the pitiful sighs\nof the dejected uncle, entirely assuaged the wrath of the sympathetic,\nthough quick-tempered, old man.\n\nWhen he once more resumed his place before the three children the storm\nhad passed, and a sweet, good-natured smile enlivened his homely old\nface, and charmed all beholders.\n\n'Well, well, well,' said he, 'triplets will be triplets after all, and\nuncles uncles, all the world over.'\n\nHe at once resumed the inquiry, and placing his hand kindly on the head\nof the second triplet he now addressed the first in the following way:--\n\n'Let us suppose for the moment that you happen to know which of your\nsisters this particular one really is, who, in that case, would the\nthird one be, if she (the third) were not Mellinid?'\n\n'Either Edil or the Duchess,' promptly replied the intelligent child.\n\n'Quite right,' said the King encouragingly, 'Now as this is not so, and\nyou certainly do not know which of your sisters this one happens to be,\nthe reverse must be true, so that if your other sister is neither Edil\nnor the Duchess, who must she be?'\n\n'Mellinid, of course,' readily answered the child, and every one\napplauded and wondered at the wisdom of the King.\n\n'It only now remains,' proceeded the King, addressing the first and\nsecond triplets 'to discover which of you is Edil and which the\nDuchess.' Placing his hand once more upon the head of the second\ntriplet, he again addressed the first.\n\n'Suppose, for the sake of argument, that this sister of yours whom we\nnow know not to be Mellinid were Mellinid and Mellinid the Duchess, in\nthat case you would assuredly be Edil. Now as you cannot suppose this\nsister to be Mellinid when you know she is not, and the Duchess is the\nDuchess and not Mellinid, then our supposition must be wrong and the\nreverse true, so that Mellinid remains Mellinid and, as we say you are\nnot Edil, then this little girl must be she.' Then shaking the first\ntriplet by the hand, the complacent old potentate said in\nconclusion:--'And you, my dear creature, are thus proved to be neither\nEdil nor Mellinid but Blaura, the charming Duchess of Blowdripping, to\nwhom I offer my hearty congratulations.' The cheerful soul now embraced\nthe three children, and when he had a hand free he slapped the old\nuncle, who now looked the very picture of happiness, several times upon\nthe back.\n\n[Illustration: THE TRIPLETS ACCOMPANY THE ARMY]\n\nCheers were raised again and again at the unheard-of wisdom of the King\nof Troy. The old uncle completely exhausted himself by leaping high into\nthe air over and over again, while the triplets were beyond themselves\nwith joy at such a successful end to their troubles.\n\nSo delighted were the triplets with their new friends that, during\nbreakfast the next morning, they announced their intention of\naccompanying them to their journey's end, and entrusted the care of the\nBlowdripping estate to their old uncle until they should return. The\ncamp packed up and when every one was ready to continue the journey,\nthey all took an affectionate leave of the old man and marched on.\n\n[Illustration: tailpiece]\n\n * * * * *\n\n[Illustration: GOOD AUNT GALLADIA]\n\n[Illustration: headpiece]\n\n\n\n\nGOOD AUNT GALLADIA\n\n\nAt first the King seemed disposed to be not a little irritable towards\nthe triplets, murmuring something to himself about the extra expense. A\ngood lunch, however, soon put him to rights, and he was his old cheerful\nself again.\n\nIn the afternoon they met upon the road a long thin man with a grin of\nthe greatest self-satisfaction widening his otherwise narrow face. In\none hand he carried a cage containing a miserable old bird that could\nhardly boast an egg-cupful of feathers on its whole shrivelled body; in\nthe other he carried a large wooden box. He very good-naturedly stood\naside for the army to move on, but the King, whose curiosity had been\naroused, would not allow him to be passed unquestioned, so he rang a\nlittle bell he always carried with him for the purpose, and the whole\nforce at once stopped short. In obedience to a signal from the King, the\nlong man stepped jauntily before him. 'Anything wrong, old chirpy?' said\nhe, addressing the King rather rudely as some thought. 'Not with me,'\nthe King replied with much dignity. 'My only reason for calling you\nbefore me is to learn why you are so extremely pleased with yourself.\nSuch a secret would be of the greatest value to us all.' 'Because she's\ngiven these back to me,' answered the long fellow as he opened his box\nand disclosed, all neatly arranged, a beautiful collection of birds'\neggs. Every kind appeared to be there, and all of the most beautiful\ncolours imaginable.\n\n'But who is she?' queried the King.\n\n'Why, my good Aunt Galladia, of course, but it's too long a story to\ntell standing up, so let us sit down by the roadside, and you shall hear\nall about it.'\n\nEvery one now seated themselves on the grass by the side of the road and\nover a comforting cup of tea, speedily brewed by Boadicea, the long man\nbegan his story:--\n\n'My good aunt's full name was Galladia Glowmutton, and she was the only\ndaughter of that gallant general, Sir Francis Melville Glowmutton, who\ndistinguished himself so greatly in the defence of his country.\n\n'It was my good fortune to spend my earliest days in this good\ncreature's company, she, noble soul that she was, having undertaken to\nlook after me when my poor father and mother disappeared in a sand-storm\nmany years before.\n\n'The greater part of her life this good woman had devoted to brightening\nthe declining years of her well-loved father, whose arduous life, poor\nman, had left him in his old age, truth to tell, rather a tiresome, and\nsometimes a difficult, subject to get on with. However, thanks to her\ndevotion and patience, he led a tolerably happy life. In the course of\ntime the old warrior died and left the sorrowing lady well provided\nfor,--that is, over and beyond necessaries, with sufficient money to\nkeep up appearances, and even enough for her simple pleasures and\nhobbies.\n\n'For some months my good aunt could not fill the blank in her life left\nby the loss of her father. So much kindness, however, could not be kept\nback for long, and was bound in the course of time to find its object.\nAlways with a love for every feathered creature, she at last set about\ngathering around her as complete a collection of them as she could\nobtain. Soon she had in her aviaries the most marvellous assembly of\nbirds ever brought together even at the Zoo. There were specimens of the\nParaguay gull, Borneo parrots, Australian gheck ghees, the laughing\ngrete, Malay anchovy wren that only feeds upon anchovies (and very\namusing indeed it is, too, to watch them spearing the little fish with\ntheir beaks and then trying to shake them off again), and the\ngolden-crested mussel hawk, that swoops down from an incredible height\nand, snatching its prey from the rocks, again disappears in the sky.\nWithout wearying you with a long list, nearly every known bird was\nrepresented in my aunt's collection, from the fierce saw-beaked stork of\nTuscaroca to the mild and pretty little Gossawary chick.\n\n'Much as she prized every one of her pets, she loved most of all the\nvery rare and beautiful green-toed button crane of Baraboo. So fond was\nshe of the stately creature, and so careful of its every comfort, that\nshe employed a maid to wait on it alone, and a special cook to prepare\nits meal of Peruvian yap beans, the delicious and tender kernels of\nwhich the dainty creature was inordinately fond of,--and, indeed, they\nwere the only food upon which it throve.\n\n'Now, with your permission, a few words about myself. Like my aunt I,\ntoo, had birdish leanings, but unlike her in this, that instead of birds\nI collected birds' eggs, of which I had a vast number of every\nconceivable variety. Ashamed as I am to state it, little did my good\nAunt Galladia know how many of the valuable specimens in my collection\nwere taken from her aviaries. Nevertheless she viewed my specimens with\ngrowing suspicion, until at last she implicitly forbade me to collect\nany more. For a time I desisted, and merely contented myself with\ngloating over my already vast collection, but in a little while\ntemptation became too strong for me and I resumed my pursuits.\n\n'One afternoon about this time I had mounted a tall tree in the\nGlowmutton Park, intent on obtaining the contents of a nest built in its\nhighest branches. For some time I was unable to approach the nest, but\nat length, by dint of much perseverance, I just managed to reach my hand\nover the top, and took therefrom three beautiful eggs, of a kind as yet\nunrepresented in my collection. So occupied was I with my prize, that I\ndid not at first observe what was taking place beneath the tree. But on\nbeginning to descend, I saw to my horror immediately below me, my Aunt\nGalladia and her pet crane seated at tea, with the crane's maid in\nattendance.\n\n[Illustration: I JUST MANAGED TO REACH THE EGGS]\n\n'Needless to say I did not continue my descent, but climbed out to the\nend of a branch, high over the group. I waited in dreadful suspense in\nthe hope that my aunt would not look up, and that they would soon finish\ntheir meal and depart as quickly as they had arrived, but, alas! they\nwere in no hurry. I trembled now so much that I could hear the leaves\nrustling on the branch, and whether it was that in my fear I loosened my\nhold, or that the branch shook so under my trembling form, or whether\nthe sight of a beautiful plum cake, directly over which I was poised,\nmade me lose my nerve, I know not, but certain it is that I fell from my\nposition right on to the table. Both my aunt and the maid fainted at\nonce quite away, and the timid green-toed button crane of Baraboo was in\nsuch a terrible flutter that in its excitement it snapped the slender\ngold chain that held it and flew into the sky, where it was soon lost to\nview. \"Now I've done it,\" thought I, and, no doubt, should have run away\nhad I been able to move, but I was so bruised that I was compelled to\nremain among the shattered remains of the table and tea things.\nPresently the maid came to, and then my aunt, and nothing could exceed\nher rage and grief at losing her valuable pet. They took me home between\nthem and put me to bed, and the severest punishment they could devise\nwas to take away from me my lovely collection of eggs. \"Never,\"\nshrieked my wrathful aunt, \"shall you have these again until you bring\nback to me my beautiful crane.\"\n\n[Illustration: I ANGLE THE AIR]\n\n'After a while I recovered, but no one dared to speak to me, and I moped\nabout the house in solitary wretchedness without a single egg to\ncontemplate.\n\n'At last I could bear it no longer, and one night I left the house\ndetermined never to return again without the crane. I took with me an\nold perambulator, in which I had been wheeled about as a child, and\nin this I placed six of the delicious kernels of the Peruvian yap bean,\nbesides a hatchet and other things which I thought might be useful on my\njourney. I slept in the forest and, on the following morning I cut down\nthe straightest tree I could find for my purpose, trimmed it to a fine\nlong pole, and on the very top of this I fastened a pin, bent to the\nform of a fish-hook, which I now baited with one of the yap kernels.\n\n[Illustration: I fell from my position]\n\n[Illustration: I ERECTED MY POLE ON THE SANDS]\n\n'\"If anything will attract the bird, this will,\" thought I, having\nfastened the foot of the pole to my perambulator. I now proceeded to\nangle the air for the lost crane. Carefully following the direction I\nhad observed the bird to take when it broke away from its chain, I\ntravelled for weeks and weeks, without seeing any sign of it. In time,\nwithout even a nibble, the first kernel was dissolved and worn away by\nthe wind and rain, and, in like manner the same fate overcame the\nsecond, with which I baited my hook; then the third, then the fourth,\nand then the fifth.\n\n'Still keeping the same direction, by this time I had arrived at the\nvery edge of the world, beyond which there is nothing but sea and sky.\nBelieving that the poor creature had flown out over this lonely sea, and\nhoping that it might return when it realised that there was no land\nbeyond, I determined to wait on the desolate shore.\n\n'I now erected my pole on the sands, after once more baiting my hook,\nthis time with a piece of my last kernel, having taken the precaution of\ncutting it into six pieces. I now waited patiently, week after week,\nsubsisting on the oysters, the starfish, and the edible crustaceans,\nthat wandered tamely about the shore. Months now passed by, and, one by\none, the five pieces of my last yap kernel had followed the other five\nkernels with which I had set out from home. I am not easily beaten,\nhowever, and though many months had passed by without my meeting with\nany success, I would not give in, but husbanded my last piece of bait\nwith the greatest care. I cut a chip of wood from my angling pole, and\nshaped it in the form of a kernel of the Peruvian yap bean. This I\nrubbed well all over with the tiny piece of the real kernel that yet\nremained to me, until it assumed somewhat the colour of the original\nbean and, certainly, when applied to the tip of the tongue, it appeared\nto partake, though very slightly, it is true, of the original flavour,\nand with this I once more baited my hook.\n\n[Illustration: ITS OLD STATELY SELF AGAIN]\n\n'By this means I made my last piece of bean last for some years, for as\nsoon as the artificial bean had lost its flavour, I rubbed it up again\nwith the real one. But even this could not go on for ever, and, at last,\nthe true piece was worn right away; so, to preserve what little flavour\nthere yet remained of the true bean in the false bean, on which it had\nbeen so often rubbed, I soaked it for six days in a large shell of\nrain-water. In the meantime I cut another chip from my pole, and spent\nnearly six days in carving out another artificial kernel. Before\nbaiting my hook with this, I dipped it into the fluid in which the old\nwooden kernel was still soaking, whence it received a very very faint\nsuggestion of the original flavour, but so faint was this that it had to\nbe redipped three times a day. This went on for some time, until the\nprecious liquor began to run low, and I was compelled to dilute it still\nfurther, in the proportion of about five drops to a mussel-shellful of\nwater, into which the wooden kernel was now dipped ten or twelve times a\nday.\n\n'Well, I had been at this game, I should say, getting on for twenty\nyears, and now resolved to have done with it, after risking all on one\nthrow. So I dropped my wooden kernel, all rotted and weather-beaten as\nit was, into what little there remained over of the pure liquor, this\ntime without diluting it at all, and then let it stew all day in the\nsun.\n\n'In the evening the liquor was all evaporated, and the wooden bean\nseemed to the taste as though it possibly might have been in the\nvicinity of a real one some time before. On that evening, for the last\ntime, I baited my hook and slept soundly at the foot of the pole.\n\n'I was awakened next morning by the wind that had arisen during the\nnight, and a great wrenching noise, as it tore my poor old angling-pole\nfrom its place in the sand, and carried it out to sea.\n\n'\"That settles it once and for all,\" thought I, much relieved, \"and I'm\noff home,\" and I set about getting my things together. While I was thus\nengaged, it occurred to me that the old pole might be useful for fires,\nso I swam out for it. Already it had been blown some way out to sea,\nand, as the tide was against me, it was only with a very great exertion\nof strength that I gained at all upon it, and I was just about to give\nit up when I beheld, fastened to the bent pin at the end of the pole,\nthe wretched crane. The sight lent me greater strength, and, after\nincredible exertions, I reached the pole almost exhausted. We were now\ntoo far from the shore to attempt to return, so I got astride the pole,\nand immediately proceeded to unfasten the unhappy fowl from my bent pin.\nAt first I thought the poor thing dead, but I nursed it in my arms all\nthrough the ensuing night, and, on the following morning, happening to\nglance down its half-opened beak, I could just see that my wooden\nimitation of the kernel of the Peruvian yap bean had become lodged in\nits throat. This I at once removed, and, to my great joy, the dejected\nfowl almost immediately opened its eyes. Soon it became its old stately\nself again, though now I could see that the poor thing had aged very\nconsiderably since it left home.\n\n'Well, to cut a long story short, at length the gale ceased, and we\nlanded safely on the shore, much nearer to our home, and, after many\nvicissitudes and adventures, of which I shall have great pleasure in\ntelling you at another time, we eventually arrived at Glowmutton\nCastle.\n\n'To my grief I learnt that my good aunt, Galladia, had died many years\nbefore of old age, and that, true to her own good-nature, her last\ncommands were that if ever I should return with her dearly-loved fowl,\nmy collection of eggs was to be handed back to me, and in recompense for\nall my privations and exertions to recover the bird, I was to have the\ncare of it and the comfort of its society as long as it lived. So, now\nyou see why I am so pleased with myself.'\n\nThe King and the whole army were charmed with the recital, and the long\nman, whose many noble qualities had already endeared him to them, was\ncordially invited to join the forces.\n\n'It's all one to me, my cronies,' said the good-natured creature, and\nthey all trudged on.\n\n[Illustration: tailpiece]\n\n * * * * *\n\n[Illustration: THE DOCTOR]\n\n[Illustration: headpiece]\n\n\n\n\nTHE DOCTOR\n\n\nFor many days they had now travelled without meeting with any adventure,\nwhen one evening they saw coming towards them a bright young lad, who\nwas leading by the hand an exceedingly learned-looking old gentleman.\nTheir appearance was such as to arouse the King's curiosity to such a\ndegree that he asked the boy the time as he was passing, and then, when\nall stood still in the road, he led the talk from one thing to another\nuntil at last, emboldened by their friendliness, the King came to the\npoint, and asked the lad who he was and whence he had come.\n\nThe two strangers then sat down at the side of the road, and the lad\nthus addressed the King:--\n\n'You may not believe it, but I am the original Ptolemy Jenkinson, the\nonly and well-beloved nephew of that great and celebrated doctor,\nEbenezer Scrout, whom you now see at my side. When, a trembling orphan,\nI was thrown upon an unfeeling world, he alone of my numerous uncles,\naunts, so-called friends and guardians, undertook to find me a\ncomfortable and even luxurious home, and so to educate me that I might\nprove worthy of occupying the exalted position for which I am destined.\n\n'Uncle Ebenezer was my mother's brother and, a true Scrout, he inherited\nall his good qualities from my grandfather, Phelim Scrout, the\nwell-known turfcutter, from whom, by the way, I inherit most of\nmine--but of these it does not become me to speak.\n\n'Many people, jealous perhaps of his great fame, have ridiculed my\nuncle's claim to be a member of this ancient family, but to set this\nmatter for ever at rest, I have here copied a few notes from the\nScroutean genealogical tree, preserved in the archives of the family.'\nPtolemy Jenkinson here took from his pocket and handed to Bill a sheet\nof paper upon which the following notes were written in a clear bold\nhand:--\n\n MISTS OF THE PAST\n\n PHELIM SCROUT = MOLLY?\n (The well-known turfcutter) |\n |\n ----------------------------------\n | |\n TOD SCROUT = MANDY M'GUIRE PEARL (died of\n | megrims at an\n | early age)\n |\n ------------------------------------------------------\n | | | | | |\n LU EBENEZER MANDY CASSANDRA = WAT LIL\n TOM JENKINSON\n |\n PTOLEMY\n\nWhen these had been examined by the company, Ptolemy resumed his tale:--\n\n'Uncle Eb, as I very soon learned to call him, was ever the victim of\nhis own generous heart. Continually adopting people, both old and young,\nhe was doomed to be taken advantage of by those to whom he was most\nkind. How well can I remember, amongst many another ungrateful adopted\nson, uncle, aunt or cousin, young Sigurd, the birthday-monger, who\nentered the family about the same time as myself. It was he who secretly\nwrote his name on each page of Uncle Eb's birthday-book and received a\npresent every day from the absent-minded old gentleman until he was\ndiscovered writing his name twice on some pages and was straightway\ndisadopted.\n\n[Illustration: FAR SOONER HAVE THE MUMPS]\n\n'Not alone to his own family circle was the doctor's kindness\nconfined; it extended to all with whom he came in contact. Before\nsending in his bills he always provided his patients with enough money\nto pay them, and promptly returned the cash with the receipts, deducting\nonly one penny for the stamp in each case.\n\n'Invariably most sympathetic with his suffering patients, he spent many\nyears of his noble life in studying how to make his medicines as\npleasant and sweet to the taste as the most delightful confections ever\nplaced upon the Lord Mayor's table, while his greatest endeavour was\nalways to make a period of sickness one also of pleasurable relaxation\nfor his patients.\n\n'In time the children went mad with excitement, and jumped for very joy\non learning that they had contracted measles, and would far sooner, any\nday, have the mumps than a birthday every week. And oh! what thrills of\njoy would pass through their little frames on learning that they would\nhave to lie up for a bilious attack and be attended by the good-natured\nDoctor Ebenezer Scrout, and treated with his delicious jalaps and\npowders.\n\n'Unfortunately, however, so pleasant was the treatment, that the\nchildren in time were even tempted to make themselves ill on purpose, by\neating as many jam puffs as they could buy with their Saturday monies,\nand soon nearly every child was down with a bad bilious attack, and all\nthe schools had to be closed.\n\n'Even the grown-ups began to indulge in these jam puffs, buying them in\nlarge quantities and falling ill one by one, much preferring to be\ntucked up snugly in bed with a comfortable bilious attack and the\ngood-natured doctor in attendance, to ordinary good health and hard\nwork, with the many disappointments and trials of everyday life.\n\n'First the Lord Mayor was taken bad--then the leader of the town band\nand all his bandsmen. Now the shopmen began to feel queer, and one by\none the aldermen toddled to their beds. In time everybody was laid up,\nand no one was left to do the work of the town. All the shops, theatres,\nmarkets, and railway stations were closed, and the streets quite\ndeserted except for the doctor and the puff baker, each trying to undo\nthe work of the other.\n\n'Hardly a sound could be heard in the streets except perhaps the clink\nof a spoon against a bottle from a room above, as some patient prepared\nhis evening dose, or the shuffling footsteps of the old doctor as he\nwent his daily round, and sometimes the loud rat-tat of the puff baker\nwould awaken the echoes of the lonely streets as he called from door to\ndoor for orders in the morning.\n\n'Strange grasses and sweet-scented wild flowers began to grow in the\nstreets, and mushrooms and straggling carrots forced a way between the\ncrevices of the pavements. Sprays of wild spinach hung from the\nlamp-posts, and the market-place became one waving jungle of broccoli.\nThe very sparrows, deprived of their daily crumbs, grew thin and nervy\nwith the green diet they were compelled to subsist upon. Croaking and\ngriding, instead of chirruping musically to their young as is their\nwont, they so affected the good-hearted doctor that he could never pass\nthem without some cheering word, and never could he withstand the\nbeseeching look in their eyes. Within doors the prospect was hardly more\nencouraging. Strong vegetable-marrows twined their branches and their\nmany tendrils round the table legs and the chairs; great turnips\nstoutened and burst upon the stairs; spring onions bristled in the\ncorners of the Lord Mayor's dining-hall, while his grand piano was\ncompletely hidden in the gorgeous festoons of mint that, unchecked, had\nrun a ragged riot about the place.\n\n[Illustration: THE PUFF BAKER]\n\n'At last, after two months of sickness, and despite every attention and\nkindness on the part of the doctor, the patients began to weary of being\nill and kept to their beds for so long. The Lord Mayor was the first to\narise and, although very weak in the legs, he managed to crawl to the\ntop of the stairs, and looking down, beheld, to his dismay, the dreadful\nstate of ruin in which everything was involved. He called for his\nservants as loudly as his weakness would allow him, and, obtaining no\nreply, he scrambled down the stairs on his hands and knees, and\nclamoured shrilly for a cut from the joint. As, of course, there was no\none to procure this for him nor, indeed, any joint from which to\nprocure a cut, he boiled himself an egg, and was able to survey the\nscene more calmly.\n\n[Illustration: TREATED WITH DELICIOUS JALAPS]\n\n'Presently the aldermen crawled down one by one, then the shopmen, then\nthe bandsmen, and, finally, the rest of the inhabitants, disturbed by\nthe weeping and yells of those already arisen, struggled downstairs, and\nin agony beheld the general devastation.\n\n'Resolved not to touch another drop of the doctor's medicine, they\nsatisfied the cravings of their hunger, which now began to be felt, on\nthe wild marrows, turnips, and mushrooms that everywhere abounded, and\nby degrees regained a little of their former vigour.\n\n[Illustration: The Lord Mayor held a long council]\n\n'The Lord Mayor and aldermen, already feeling a little more comfortable,\nheld a long council, at which it was decided that it would be less\nexpensive to burn the old town, and to build a new one on its site, than\nto try and clear up the old one. It was also decided to arrest the\nunfortunate doctor, whom they all now joined in accusing as the cause of\ntheir trouble, and bring him to trial.\n\n[Illustration: AS SOME PATIENT PREPARED HIS DOSE]\n\n'In the course of time the town was rebuilt, and the doctor was the\nfirst prisoner to stand on his trial at the new Town Hall.\n\n'On the appointed day the Hall was crammed to its utmost, as at one time\nthe prisoner had been much loved and looked up to by his\nfellow-townsmen.\n\n'When the Lord Mayor arrived in state, between two Admirals of the\nFleet, and took his seat, the foreman of the jury awakened his\nbrother-jurors, who had been dozing off, and called for three cheers for\nthe Lord Mayor, in which everybody joined. The Lord Mayor made no reply,\nexcept to frown severely at the foreman, and proceeded at once with the\nbusiness in hand. \"Lock all the doors and bring in the prisoner,\" cried\nhe in a loud voice, after clearing his throat. The doors were instantly\nlocked, but some confusion arose when it was discovered that they could\nnot bring in the prisoner unless one were unlocked again. On this being\nvery politely pointed out to the Lord Mayor (who did not seem quite to\nlike being corrected), he altered his order, and cried out: \"Bring in\nthe prisoner, and lock all the doors.\" Immediately the band struck up\nthe most martial music and the prisoner was brought in, tied tightly\nwith twine, sealed with red sealing-wax, and guarded by a squad of\ninfantry, who at once formed fours, and marked time for the rest of the\nafternoon.\n\n'When the music had ceased, and the general excitement caused by the\nentrance of the prisoner had subsided, the Lord Mayor politely requested\nhim to take a seat, which he very gladly did, on being untied by the\npoliceman.\n\n'Now, as every one knew that the doctor had really been the cause of all\nthe trouble, the only point to be decided at the trial was whether he\nhad done it intentionally or not, and the Lord Mayor addressed him\naccordingly, asking him if he had anything to say upon the subject. The\ndoctor happened to be thinking of something else at the moment and,\nmoreover, had his head turned in another direction, watching a fly on\nthe window of the hall, so that he did not hear the question. The Lord\nMayor waited about a quarter of an hour for an answer, and receiving\nnone, he called, in an annoyed tone, for the witnesses for the\nprosecution.\n\n[Illustration: THE VERY SPARROWS GREW THIN]\n\n'The principal witness for the prosecution was a Sicilian char-woman,\nwhose evidence was translated by one of the many aldermen present to\nassist in case of need. It appeared that in her young days she had made\nthe acquaintance of a young and handsome Sicilian waiter, a distant\ncousin, and a native of the village in which she was born. So friendly\ndid they become in time that he had confided to her many of the secrets\nof his life, and, amongst others, one that had weighed very heavily upon\nhis mind. Some time previously, when employed at a well-known\nrefreshment hall, on the coast of Lombardy, he had waited upon a\ndistinguished young gentleman of considerable means, and had overheard\nhim whisper to a chance acquaintance, seated at the next table, that a\nfriend of his, a tall dark man, had met a young lady at a whist-party,\nwhose greatest friend had an aunt, formerly engaged to a well-meaning\ncurate, who averred that his brother knew for certain that IT WAS DONE\nQUITE INTENTIONALLY BY ---- Here the waiter was called away to another\nclient, and did not hear the rest of the sentence.\n\n'Now the Sicilian char-woman, on hearing this from her good friend, was\nmuch puzzled, and not knowing to whom the words might refer, made a\nmental note of it at the time. On reading of the arrest of the doctor,\nhowever, and of what he was accused, she concluded that there must be\nsome connection between him and the man mentioned by the brother of the\nwell-meaning curate formerly engaged to the aunt of the greatest friend\nof the young lady who was met at the whist party by the tall dark friend\nof the young gentleman of considerable means who, as you know, was\nwaited upon by the Sicilian waiter at the well-known refreshment hall in\nLombardy, so she had hastened from Sicily to tell her tale. At the\nconclusion of her evidence a murmur of admiration was heard all over the\ncourt, and the Lord Mayor was so charmed with her and the really\npleasant way in which she had told her tale, that he lightly threw a\nhalf-crown to her across the hall, which she very neatly caught. She\nthen sat down, amidst the cheers of the crowd.\n\n'The principal witness for the defence was a young journeyman tailor,\nwho stated that on cleaning out the pockets of an old coat which had\nbeen left at his house for repairs by a dark gentleman of mysterious\nappearance, he had discovered an old envelope upon which he could just\ntrace the figures 56--6.30 A.M. The coat was never called for, and the\ntailor pondered over the envelope, but could make nothing of it. He\nshowed it to every policeman of his acquaintance, but not one could\nunravel the mystery, and, as a last resource, he procured an\nintroduction to the principal policeman in the British Museum Library.\nThis great man examined the envelope very carefully, but with no result,\nand the only advice he could give him was to call at every house\nnumbered 56 at 6.30 in the morning and see what would happen.\n\n'The tailor followed this advice diligently for some time and met with\nmany rebuffs, as he had nothing to say on the door being opened to him.\nAt length one morning he came to an empty house numbered 56, the steps\nof which were littered with straw. Gazing hopelessly at this for some\ntime, he noticed that three pieces pointed distinctly in one direction\nto the corner of the street, and you may well imagine his surprise when,\non following the direction indicated by the straw, he came across this\npostcard.'\n\nPtolemy Jenkinson here handed this torn postcard to the company.\n\n[Illustration: POSTCARD]\n\nPtolemy again proceeded with his story:--\n\n'Now the tailor, more puzzled than ever, took the card home, and, after\nweeks of deep thinking, decided that the card must have been completed\nthus.'\n\nPtolemy here handed the remaining portion of card, with the tailor's\nsuggested completion, to the company.\n\n'You may guess the surprise of every one present when the tailor\nproduced the completed card. The Lord Mayor gazed at it in astonishment.\nHe turned it over and over, and suddenly noticing that there was a\nforeign stamp on the other side, he became more excited than ever, and\nasked if he might tear it off, as his son had rather a good collection.\nThis the tailor readily allowed him to do, and this put the Lord Mayor\nin a good temper for the rest of the afternoon, and gave a more cheerful\naspect to the case altogether.\n\n[Illustration: POSTCARD]\n\n'After the tailor's evidence, which, of course, proved that the doctor\nhad not intended to bring about the harm of which he had been the\nunfortunate cause, there was nothing for the Lord Mayor to do but to\nacquit the prisoner, which he did, much to everybody's relief.\n\n'The Lord Mayor then retired, after ordering a new suit of clothes from\nthe journeyman tailor, and inviting the Sicilian charwoman and the other\nwitnesses to progressive whist and to be introduced to his family.\n\n'So, Gentlemen,' said Ptolemy in conclusion, 'my uncle and myself are\nquite free at last, and entirely at your service.'\n\nSuch a valuable offer could not very well be refused, so, after\nexplaining the object of the expedition to their new friends, the whole\nforce moved joyfully on.\n\n[Illustration: tailpiece]\n\n * * * * *\n\n[Illustration: THE RESPECTABLE GENTLEMAN\nAND THE BOY SCOUT]\n\n[Illustration: headpiece]\n\n\n\n\nTHE RESPECTABLE GENTLEMAN AND THE BOY SCOUT\n\n\nIn due time the gallant army arrived at the little town of Killgruel, a\nvery respectable place indeed, at which they spent the pleasantest of\nweek-ends, entertained at 'At Homes,' soirees, and receptions, to any\nnumber of which every member of the expedition was invited during their\nbrief stay. Bill and the King were the guests of the very respectable\nand Right Honourable Hesketh Fitzgreynib, the Mayor of Killgruel, who\nentertained them with the extremest gentility imaginable. So respectable\nand genteel was their host, that it had been said of him that never had\nhe been known to don the same suit twice, having at the very least a new\none every day; nor had he ever been seen to remove his lavender gloves\neven at meal times. It was also reported that, not content with bowing\nmost politely to every one he met in the street, he behaved in a like\ngenteel manner to all the pillar-boxes and lamp-posts that he passed\nupon his way, and that he always walked sideways down the street with\nhis back to the wall, in order that he should not be compelled to turn\nit upon the passers-by. Whether these reports are true or not, it is\ncertain that he was the most gentlemanly gentleman in all Killgruel, a\ntown which could boast more elegant and refined people than any other\ntown in the whole world.\n\nHe was indeed the pride of Killgruel, and so respected by his\nfellow-townsmen, who valued him greatly for his exceptional\ngentlemanliness, that he was not allowed to soil his hands by so much as\na stroke of work, but only to be respectable from morning to night. An\nintelligent boy scout was employed to look after him, and even to think\nfor him, with orders never on any account to leave him, so that in time\nthis respectable gentleman became very respectable indeed, and relying\nfor almost everything on the intelligence and affection of the boy\nscout, who now performed for him even his duties as Mayor of Killgruel,\nthe good man was enabled to devote his whole thoughts to the\ncultivation of his respectability.\n\nHis good wife, the Lady Lilian Leankettle, who was extravagantly devoted\nto her husband, shone in the same brilliant manner, and was quoted as a\nmodel of gentility by all the good wives of the little community, while\nBildith, their charming and handsome daughter, gave every promise of\ninheriting their interesting ways.\n\nBut delightful as all this was to the band of warriors, on Monday\nmorning they were compelled to resume their journey. It was, however, so\nearly when they were ready to start that the gates of the town were not\nunlocked, so the Honourable Hesketh, with whom, as Mayor of Killgruel,\nthe keys were always left at night, allowed the scout to take the keys\nand let the wanderers out. After a charmingly polite farewell from the\nRight Honourable Hesketh and others of their entertainers who had\ngathered by the town hall to see them off, the gallant band marched down\nthe high street towards the only gate of the town, headed by the\nintelligent boy scout. From the first the King showed symptoms of being\nrather unmanageable, and Bill had great difficulty in getting him past\nthe shops, which were now all taking down their shutters, and when they\narrived at the sweet-stuff shop there was nothing for it but to go in\nand buy him some cocoanut ice.\n\nAt length they managed to get clear of the gates, which were then\nclosed with a bang behind them, and the last they saw of the intelligent\nboy scout was with the great town keys held firmly between his teeth, in\norder that he might hold with one hand the top of the wall to which he\nhad hastily climbed, while with the other he waved a fond good-bye to\nthe departing wanderers.\n\nWith a great gurgling cry, which all took to be one of grief at their\ndeparture, the affectionate lad suddenly disappeared and the brave\nfellows resumed their march.\n\nTheir road now took them across the mountains at the foot of which\nnestled the little town of Killgruel. Towards evening the noble fellows\nwere crossing the highest peaks of the range, weary, and looking forward\nto their supper and a good night's rest, both of which they proposed to\ntake in the woods on the other side of the mountains. Every one now\nbegan to notice that the old King seemed worried about something or\nother, and the further they marched the more fidgety he became, until at\nlast, when they had nearly descended to the woods on the other side, the\nold aggravator called his general to him and said:--'Bill, did you\nhappen to notice in the window of the principal sweet-stuff shop in the\nKillgruel high street, three fine fat sticks of liquorice leaning\nagainst the bottle containing the pear drops? Well, I can't get them out\nof my mind.' Bill tried to persuade him to forget them, and talked of\nmany other things, in order to distract him from such thoughts.\nPresently he appeared to grow easier, and as he did not for some time\nagain refer to the liquorice sticks, Bill was pleased to think that he\nhad been successful in directing the old boy's thoughts into another\nchannel. However, as they were unpacking their things in the woods at\nwhich they had now arrived and were lighting fires, preparatory to\ncooking their suppers, the truly exasperating creature again called Bill\nto him. 'Bill,' said he, with the most miserable face in the world,\n'it's no good. I can't forget 'em, try as I will. I don't want any of\nthat nasty porridge I know they are about to prepare for supper. I must\nhave some of those liquorice sticks.'\n\nHiding his annoyance as much as he could, Bill tried to convince him how\nnice porridge really is and how good for him, but the discontented old\nman, who no doubt had been very much spoilt as a boy, would hear nothing\nof it. 'I don't want to be done good to,' cried he, 'and if I don't have\nthose liquorice sticks to-night before I go to bed I know I shall get\nthe fidgets and not be able to sleep a wink.'\n\nBill now pointed out the difficulty of obtaining the liquorice, the\ndistance being so great that it would be impossible to have it brought\nto the camp before midnight at the very earliest.\n\nThe King, however, was obdurate, and Bill was now compelled, much\nagainst his will, to summon the whole army together and call for a\nvolunteer to fetch the liquorice, but not one, not even the pluckful\nChad, would venture to return alone to Killgruel along the dreary\nmountain road in the gathering night. Bill then suggested that two or\nthree should return together and keep each other company, but it was of\nno avail. At last, the only way out of the difficulty that occurred to\nBill was for half the army to return for the liquorice, and the other\nhalf to remain in the woods; but here yet another difficulty arose, for\nno one would stay in the woods with the army weakened to that extent.\n\n[Illustration: BOWING POLITELY TO THE PILLAR BOXES]\n\nAt length Bill returned to the whimpering old potentate and once more\nendeavoured to dissuade him from his selfish purpose, but the more Bill\ntalked, the more obstinate the old King became, and had it not been for\nthe severe training Bill had had as a minder, he must assuredly have\nlost control of his temper.\n\n[Illustration: THE CHURCH STEEPLE HAD BEEN REMOVED]\n\n'I must have that liquorice,' whined the old grizzler, 'and if there is\nno other way of obtaining it the whole army must pack up sticks and\nreturn to Killgruel.'\n\nMany were the growls of discontent uttered by the poor fellows when Bill\ngave the necessary orders to pack up again and prepare to return over\nthe mountains. Only by dint of the kindest words did he restrain a\nmutiny, encouraging them at the same time to humour the old baby and put\nup with his strange ways until he was restored to his throne, when, no\ndoubt, he would make it up to them in many ways.\n\nIn a little time the brave fellows were all on the march again, but the\nday was breaking by the time they arrived once more before the walls of\nKillgruel, all utterly tired, grumpy, and footsore. Bill strode up to\nthe gates of the town, which, of course, at that time of the morning\nwere still closed, and pulled the bell vigorously. He waited some time,\nand as there was no reply, he pulled the bell again, and then, after\nanother interval, he rang it with all his force, but with no result\nwhatever. He could now, however, hear a great muttering on the other\nside of the wall and considerable running to and fro, so he determined\nto wait patiently. At length the little wicket in the gate was opened\nand one of the Killgruellers looked out, and, recognising Bill and his\ncomrades, hastily shut the wicket again after promising to fetch the\nMayor.\n\nBill now waited a very long time before the wicket opened again, and in\nthe meantime his poor comrades, nearly overcome with their fatigue and\ntheir hunger, had set up their camp before the walls and prepared their\nbreakfast, after eating which not one of them was able to keep his eyes\nopen a moment longer, and all fell fast asleep before their fires. Even\nthe old King dozed off and snored peacefully in his tent, forgetting,\nfor the first time in twenty-four hours, the sticks of liquorice, upon\nthe enjoyment of which he had so much set his heart.\n\n[Illustration: STANDING ALONE UPON THE WALLS]\n\nBill alone of the whole force remained awake, and waited and waited, and\nas he stood before the gates of the little town, the noise within grew\nlouder and louder until there was a terrific hub-bub within the walls.\nAt last the wicket opened and the face of the respectable Mayor appeared\nin the little opening, but so altered that at first Bill hardly\nrecognised his good host of the day before, so upset and disturbed did\nhe seem.\n\nThe poor man then in the most nervous manner explained that no one in\nthe town had seen anything of the boy scout nor of the town keys since\nhe had let the army out of the gate the previous morning, and until they\nfound them it was, of course, impossible to let any one in. However, the\ngood fellow (who certainly seemed rather helpless without his faithful\nattendant), besought Bill to wait patiently, as they had not yet given\nup hope of being able to open the gate. The wicket was again hurriedly\nclosed, and Bill, sitting down by the gate, prepared to wait as\npatiently as he could. So tired, however, was the noble lad, that in\nspite of all his endeavours to remain awake he soon fell fast asleep.\nLong and deeply did he slumber, when he was awakened by a most terrible\nand deafening noise within the town, which had been growing greater and\ngreater during his repose.\n\nFortunately all in the camp, on account of their great fatigue, were so\ndeep in sleep that the great uproar was unable to awaken them, but Bill\nat once stood up and scaled the walls to ascertain if possible the cause\nof the awful din.\n\nThe hub-bub was truly deafening, and from his position on the walls Bill\ncould see all over the little town, which was in a shocking state of\nconfusion. The contents of every house were turned into the streets,\nand the distracted inhabitants everywhere hunting amongst the furniture\nand taking it to pieces in their search for the lost keys. Beds were cut\nopen and discharged their feathers in great clouds that floated about\nthe town; the church steeple had been removed and shaken, and the inside\nwell scoured; many of the good people were descending chimneys attached\nto lines; pavements were lifted, cellars ransacked, the Town Hall taken\nto little pieces, old houses pulled down, pillar-boxes cleared out, and\nlamp-posts blown through by the perplexed and almost frantic\nKillgruellers in their efforts to find the lost keys. All the milk, the\nwine, the water, the lemonade and the gravy were being strained through\nbutterfly nets or lawn tennis rackets, and, after melting it down, all\nthe butter, dripping and lard was treated in the same way. The treacle\ntanks and great reservoirs of linseed tea were thoroughly dragged, but\nwith no result whatever.\n\nA great procession of the townsmen nearly filled the high street which\nled from the gate to the further end of the town. One by one they\napproached the gates and tried every key they possessed. All kinds of\nkeys, latch keys, watch keys, cupboard keys, box keys were tried, but\nnot one could be found that would open the lock. To make matters even\nmore unbearable, the respectable Mayor, to whom, of course, every one\nlooked for direction and advice in their trouble, was of no earthly use\nwhatever without his scout, upon whom he had so accustomed himself to\nrely, that he was perfectly helpless without him. His respectability,\nexert it as much as he would, made no difference of any kind upon the\nsituation, except, perhaps, to place the poor man in everybody's way.\n\n[Illustration: DANGLING BY HIS LEGS]\n\nBill returned to the King who, with the whole camp, was now wide awake,\nand wondering what on earth was taking place in the town. Bill at once\nhastened to explain the state of things, in the hope that the old man\nwould at last give up all idea of the liquorice; but in this he was\nmuch mistaken, for, instead of replying to Bill, the grumpy old provoker\nturned sulky and would not say a word, so that there was nothing for the\npoor lad to do but to wait with what patience he could assume.\n\nThe day declined, with no lessening of the terrific din within the town,\nand the gates remained obstinately closed. As evening approached, little\nclouds of smoke, with now and again a spurt of flame, could be seen\nrising from the other side of the walls. Presently a single Killgrueller\nwas observed upon the walls, from which he nimbly leapt to the ground on\nthe outer side, and made off round the base of the mountains, in an\nopposite direction to the camp. Now another appeared and disappeared in\nthe same way; then another and another, and yet another, and then\nfamilies of two, three, and four. At last whole crowds came scrambling\nover the walls, and vanished in the same direction, all carrying as many\nof their belongings as they could conveniently bring along with them.\n\nThis went on until all the inhabitants, with the exception of the Mayor,\nhad left the now blazing town, when he was seen standing alone upon the\nwalls. Like the captain of a sinking ship, the noble fellow had waited\nuntil all had found safety before he sought it for himself. Bill\nhastened to assist him in his descent, and no sooner had the poor man\nreached the ground than Bill led him gently before the King and all the\nofficers of the little army, who were assembled together watching\nthe flames, and besought him to give them some explanation of these\ntruly unaccountable proceedings of the Killgruellers.\n\n[Illustration: The Respectable Gentleman]\n\n'Alas! and alack-a-day!' sighed the unfortunate gentleman, 'allow me\nfirst of all to put four questions to you. Firstly, What is the good of\na locked lock without a key?'\n\nThey were all forced to admit that it was of no use whatever.\n\n'Secondly, What is the good of a gate with a useless lock that won't\nunlock?'\n\nNo earthly use, all again admitted.\n\n'Thirdly, What is the use of a town if you can't get into it?'\n\nOf course, they all agreed there was only one answer to that.\n\n'And now, fourthly and lastly,' said the Mayor, 'What do you do with all\nuseless things?'\n\n'Destroy them,' Bill promptly rejoined.\n\n'Exactly,' said the Right Honourable Hesketh, 'and that is what we have\ndone with our now useless town, and all the inhabitants are hastening to\nbuild another town on the further side of the mountain, the gates of\nwhich shall always be nailed open in order that such a dreadful calamity\nmay not occur again.'\n\nBill somehow could not help thinking that there might have been another\nway out of the difficulty, but he did not like to say so. The old King\nat last realised that the Killgruel liquorice was not for him, so he\noffered no serious objections when Bill, early next morning, gave the\nnecessary orders to pack up and prepare for the march, which they now\nresumed. The respectable gentleman preferred to remain with them rather\nthan again face the unfortunate Killgruellers.\n\nThey had not advanced very far upon their road, when Bill, who generally\nwalked a little in advance of his troop, heard a strange clanking noise\nthat appeared to proceed from a tall tree at the wayside. Wondering what\nodd bird possessed such an unmusical song, he allowed his gaze to wander\nthoughtfully among the leaves when, suddenly, what should he behold but\nthe form of the vanished scout, dangling by his legs from a branch, and\nevery time the tree was gently stirred by the breeze, there came forth\nupon the air this weird sound.\n\nBill hastened to cut him down, but, to his unspeakable surprise, the\nunhappy young stripling cried, 'Don't, don't! the keys! the keys!' He\nthen explained that when bidding farewell to them the other morning from\nthe walls of Killgruel, in his excitement he had suddenly fallen back\nand swallowed the keys which, at the time, he had been holding between\nhis teeth. Bill now recalled the strange cry that the poor lad had\nuttered as they left Killgruel on that occasion. However, in spite of\nhis reluctance to be right side up again until he had recovered the\nkeys, Bill insisted on fetching him down, and, in the severe struggle\nthat ensued, the keys fell out of the boy's throat.\n\nWhen at length the army came upon the scene, nothing could exceed the\njoy of the respectable Mayor at beholding his good attendant, whom he\nhad despaired of ever seeing again. He easily persuaded the willing\nyoung creature to remain with him, and share the fortunes of the King of\nTroy, and thus, with this very welcome addition to their forces, the\ngallant band marched on.\n\n[Illustration: tailpiece]\n\n[Illustration: vignette]\n\n * * * * *\n\n[Illustration: THE SICILIAN CHAR-WOMAN]\n\n[Illustration: headpiece]\n\n\n\n\nTHE SICILIAN CHAR-WOMAN\n\n\nSome weeks after leaving Killgruel, the noble little band entered a\ngreat forest, in the middle of which they overtook a stately char-woman;\nand no sooner did the Doctor behold her than he left the ranks, and\ngoing up to her, shook her kindly by the hand. He then introduced her to\nthe King as the Sicilian Char-woman, and very chatty and pleasant she\nproved to be, and as she was travelling in the same direction, she\ngraciously entertained them with the story of her life:--\n\n'You may indeed find it more than difficult to believe me when I aver\nthat I am the daughter of an Arabian Prince, and that in my early years\nI was considered not merely the most intelligent, but also the most\nbeautiful and fascinating creature in my father's dominion. As\ncompanions in my early childhood I had sixteen elder sisters, all of\nwhom were blessed with singularly affectionate natures, and were\ngenerally declared to be only less beautiful and intelligent than\nmyself. No care or expense was spared in our education and in fitting us\nfor the truly exalted position it was hoped that we should occupy, as\nthe daughters of a distinguished Arabian Prince. With this good end in\nview, the services were secured of the best of music-masters,\ndancing-masters, and instructors in the many graceful accomplishments\nthat were becoming to our rank; yet, alas! with all that one could\nreasonably ask for, with every whim and wish gratified almost before it\nwas expressed, with the most indulgent of parents, whose sole joy was to\nfill our lives with happiness, a settled melancholy by degrees possessed\nmy soul and rendered me unfit to share the youthful pleasures of my\nsisters. It was not that I was in any way unmindful of all the kindness\nshown to me in countless ways, but that a craving, always with me since\nmy earliest days, to see the wonderful world I had so often heard\ndescribed in glowing terms, grew with me as time went by, and, weary of\nthe idle life I led, I longed to use and develop in wider fields the\ngreat intelligence I had been gifted with.\n\n'At first, as was to be expected, my parents would not hear of my\nleaving them, but seeing that I grew sadder and more discontented day by\nday, they at length reluctantly gave their consent, for, after all, what\ngreater wish had they than for my happiness.\n\n'After many consultations with the wisest men in my father's court, it\nwas decided that I should take a course of instruction at the Royal\nCharing College of Sicily, and, on the fateful day, I took leave of my\nsorrowing parents and sisters, and, in charge of the Grand Vizier, left\nfor Sicily.\n\n'With such good introductions as my father was easily able to command, I\nhad no difficulty in gaining an entry to the College, in which I very\nsoon learnt to distinguish myself. No lack of enthusiasm and industry\ndid I bring to my tasks, and a native ability far above the average soon\nfound opportunities for development, so that in the course of time I was\ndischarged, a fully certified and perfected char-woman.\n\n'Since those early days my skill, my virtues, and my affections have\nbeen devoted to the welfare of many families, some of whom were\nundoubtedly good, some indifferent, while some again were undoubtedly\nbad. But without any question the worst household of all was that of the\nPettigrew Leanmuffins, when first I devoted myself to the wellbeing of\nits members. Afterwards, however, as you shall hear, their trials,\ntogether with my disinterested conduct, wrought a reformation in their\nnatures as astounding as it was welcome to all who knew them.\n\n'Mr. Pettigrew Leanmuffins himself, a man of some attainments, though\nill-tempered and close to a degree bordering on meanness, had little\nenough to do with me, hardly ever, indeed, disguising his efforts to\nignore my very existence; but no words at my command could describe the\nungenerous nature of Mrs. Leanmuffins, who not only refused to concede\nany little favours to me, such as gracefully offering to entertain my\nworthy friend the waiter and his respectable family, but even denied,\nwith much asperity, my right to enjoy an afternoon nap on the\ndrawing-room lounge.\n\n'Of no value, in her prejudiced eyes, were the hardly-earned diplomas\nthat had been awarded me during my five years' course at the College,\nand though richly illuminated with gold, amethysts and pearls, and\nframed in gorgeously brocaded velvet, she would not hear of my\ncertificates for charing being displayed on the walls of the music-room\nbeside her daughters' certificates for musical proficiency. With such\npoor examples as their parents constantly before them, it is not to be\nwondered at that the three daughters, Grillette, Pandalaura, and Blen\nshould discover to one, who would have been their good friend, natures\nso mean that there seemed little promise of their ever possessing more\ngenerous dispositions. Rather, the wonder is that they were not really\nworse than they were, and beyond the chance of any reformation.\n\n[Illustration: I TOOK LEAVE OF MY SORROWING FATHER]\n\n'Each valued her own paltry and merely ornamental accomplishments at a\nfar higher rate than my own well proved and certified skill in the\nserious art of charing, and in their own rude way they never missed an\nopportunity of reminding me of their fancied superiority.\n\n'During these early years of trial no other consolation had I than the\nsociety of the youngest of the Leanmuffin brood--Basil Herbert, one who\nas yet had not developed the mean disposition of his parents and\nsisters. For hours together, when the other Leanmuffins were away at\nsome jaunt or frolic mayhap, would I, perhaps smarting under some recent\nindignity, pour forth my troubles into his not unwilling ears. Though\nbut two years of age at the most, he seemed to understand, and I felt\nthat in his own quiet way he gave me his sympathy. I therefore resolved\nin my young heart that he, at least, should not be spoilt, and to save\nhim from falling to the depths of the other Leanmuffins was now my one\nhope in life.\n\n[Illustration: HARDLY DISGUISING HIS EFFORTS TO IGNORE ME]\n\n'How often would I, in dumb show, act kind deeds before him in little\nscenes and plays that I had composed for the purpose, using the kitchen\nutensils to personify my various characters, thus accustoming his\ngrowing mind to kind thoughts, until in time he gave promise of becoming\nas virtuous as he was handsome.\n\n'He endeared himself to all by his amiable ways, though none suspected\nto whose loving and untiring care they were due, and friends, nay, even\nstrangers from distant lands travelled to see him, and marvelled at his\ndecorous and kindly behaviour, which charmed as well as astonished all\nbeholders.\n\n'His virtues, however, strong as they were, did not render him immune to\nthe weaknesses to which young children are liable, and in his fifth year\nhe developed a chilblain of the most painful description. Every remedy\nwas tried, dried turnip seed, applications of roasted capers, poultices\nof wild figs and nard, fomentations of honey and turbot's roe, and many\nother recipes for the curing of chilblains, recommended by anxious\nfriends. Nevertheless the blain grew chillier and chillier until at last\nthey were compelled to send for a physician.\n\n'The physician, after spending a whole afternoon examining the foot,\neventually took the most serious view of the case imaginable, and\nhastily wrote out the following prescription, promising to call again in\na few days:--\n\n[Illustration: Basil Herbert develops a chilblain]\n\n 1 Pint New Gruel.\n 1 gr. Tincture of Green Acorns.\n 1/2 gr. Hypo.\n 1/16 gr. Castor Sugar.\n 3 Clove Kernels.\n 1/2 lb. Coffee Essence.\n 3/4 lb. Sugar of Zinc.\n 2 gr. Bisulphite of Lead.\n 1 Pint Spirits of Sulphur.\n 5 gr. Bicarbonate of Saltpetre.\n 1 oz. Table Salt.\n\n'Three drops to be mixed in a quart of lukewarm water and gently rubbed\ninto the roots of the blain every five minutes, day and night, until its\ndisappearance, which, if all went well, should take place in about six\nmonths' time.\n\n'I was sent out at once, without a \"please\" or \"will you kindly\" of\ncourse, to the nearest chemist to have the prescription made up. But,\nalas! he was unable to do it, as he had only three of the necessary\ningredients in stock,--the bicarbonate of saltpetre, the table salt, and\nthe hypo. I now went in turn to every chemist in the town, only to find\nthat not one of them could supply me with _all_ the necessary\ningredients. One perhaps had the tincture of green acorns and the hypo,\nwhile another had all but the coffee essence and the clove kernels. Some\nagain only had the spirits of sulphur and the sugar of zinc, and so on.\nNow, in my despair, I resolved to buy each separate ingredient at a\ndifferent store and mix the prescription myself, but, alas! I was no\nnearer obtaining it, as no one could supply me with the clove kernels.\nDetermined to succeed, I visited in succession every town in Sicily, but\nnot a single clove kernel could I find from one end of the island to the\nother.\n\n'As I stood on the sea-shore at the edge of the island wondering what\nnext I should do to complete the prescription, my thoughts flew across\nthe sea to my home in Arabia, and I decided to return there at once in\nthe hope of learning from my parents where I should be most likely to\nfind the kernels.\n\n'With the other ingredients securely sewn into the lining of my skirt, I\nembarked for Arabia, and in due course arrived at my father's palace.\n\n'When my good parents recognised me, which they did only after some\nminutes of close scrutiny, for it was at least twenty-five years since I\nhad left home, they extended to me the kindliest welcome, and by their\naffectionate conduct dispelled any restraint I might have felt after so\nlong an absence. In the meanwhile each of my sixteen sisters had married\na Sultan or Prince at the very least, and they were now reigning in\ntruly regal splendour in different parts of the world, and my parents,\nbeing alone in their old age, begged of me to come and live with them\nand gladden their declining years. This, however, I soon convinced them\nI could not do, and besought their help and advice in my quest. The\nPrince, my father, manifested the greatest desire to assist me, and took\na fatherly interest in my fortunes. He caused the palace to be ransacked\nfrom top to bottom, but with no success,--there was not a single clove\nkernel to be found in the place.\n\n[Illustration: THEY WERE COMPELLED TO SEND FOR A PHYSICIAN]\n\n'After an affectionate parting with my father and mother, I visited\nevery one of my married sisters in turn, each of whom introduced me to\nher husband and friends with considerable pride, for you must know that\nalready my fame as a char-woman of great ability had reached even to the\nmost distant parts. One and all were equally felicitous in their\nexpressions of delight at seeing me, and equally pressing in their\ninvitations to me to take up my abode with them. Yet none were able to\nhelp me in the quest I had so much at heart.\n\n'At last I returned to Sicily without the clove kernels, and, too\nashamed to appear before the Leanmuffins without the completed\nprescription, I wandered about the island in despair, resting at night\nin the caves of the mountains, satisfying the cravings of my hunger on\nthe hard dry leaves of the cactus.\n\n'I now bethought me of my good friend the waiter and the willingness he\nhad consistently evinced to help me when in trouble, and once more I\nembarked, this time for the shores of Lombardy, at which place I knew he\nhad a comfortable situation. With very little difficulty I found the\nrefreshment establishment at which he worked, and, as I anticipated, he\nwas extremely pleased to meet me again, and manifested the liveliest joy\nat the prospect of being of some help to me. Together we studied the\nmenu of the day very thoroughly, but could find no mention whatever of\nclove kernels, and then, idly looking through some menus of recent date,\nhandsomely bound together for future reference, we discovered that clove\nkernels had been served as recently as the day before. It would be\nuseless to attempt to describe the despair that took possession of me\nwhen I discovered that I had only missed them by one day. The waiter\nexcitedly rushed down to the kitchen to see if any had been left over,\nbut, alas! there was not a single clove kernel to be found in the larder\nor anywhere else. On leaving the refreshment rooms I shed the bitterest\ntears that had ever fallen from my usually joyful eyes, and on the rocks\nby the sea gave way to a mood of the greatest despondency.\n\n'More ashamed than ever to return to the Leanmuffins, I made several\ninquiries for any one requiring the services of an amicable, virtuous,\nand, at the same time, experienced char-woman, determined to find work\nin Lombardy if any were to be had.\n\n'Not receiving satisfactory replies to my inquiries, my good waiter,\ntrue to his kind nature, introduced me to one of his most regular\ncustomers, the Marquis of Lombardy, who had been looking out for some\nyears for a capable char-woman to superintend the management of his\ndomestic affairs. Meeting with the approval of the Marquis, I thus\nsecured a comfortable home, and resolved to forget that I had ever lived\nin Sicily.\n\n'Now it happened that the Marquis, being a regular diner at the\nrestaurant, had partaken of clove kernels on the last occasion they were\nserved, and three or four must have fallen from his spoon into his\nwaistcoat pocket at the time, for I overheard his valet repeat to the\nhousemaid that he had found them therein when brushing his master's\nclothes, and that he had presented them to one of the boatmen's\nchildren. Learning the name of the child, not a moment did I lose in\nhunting for him high and low, and eventually discovered him playing idly\non the sands with what, I was convinced, were the kernels I so much\ncoveted. At last, thought I, they are within my reach, and running\njoyfully up to the light-hearted lad discovered, alas! that he was only\nplaying with brass buttons.\n\n'After the first shock of my new disappointment had passed away, I\nquestioned the lad as to how he had disposed of the clove kernels, and\nhe told me that his father, who considered them excellent bait, had\ntaken them from him and given him three brass buttons in exchange.\n\n'On asking him where his father was at the present moment, he pointed\nwith his sunburnt hand to the horizon, and looking in the direction\nindicated, I perceived a little fishing-smack, miles away. Without the\nloss of a single second, I hired a boat, and, with a boatman to assist,\nrowed in pursuit, and after a chase of three or four hours drew up, in\nan exhausted condition, alongside the smack. I now in piteous tones\nbegged the clove kernels of the weather-beaten mariner, but he only\nlaughed loudly and bitterly in reply, and, on my inquiring the reason of\nhis cruel mirth, told me in faltering accents that he had only just\nhauled in his lines to discover that the fish had gone off with the bait\nand hook as well. Thus doomed to disappointment, I spent the rest of the\nday in a state of mind bordering on madness.\n\n[Illustration: THE IMPROVEMENT WAS MAINTAINED]\n\n'It was a little time after this that, one evening, I was sitting over\nthe kitchen fire. The cook had just served up an excellent dish of fish,\nand my mind was still turning to Sicily in spite of my endeavours to\nforget that there was such a place, and wondering if ever I should see\nBasil Herbert again. Suddenly there was a most terrible disturbance\noverhead in the dining-room, a noise as of plates being thrown from one\nend of the room to the other, and presently wild shrieks and groans of\npain. I ran lightly upstairs, always ready to be of use in emergencies\nof any kind, and opened the dining-room door just in time to see the\nMarquis raving most pitifully. It transpired that the very identical\nfish that had swallowed the hook and the clove kernels had been caught\nand served up to the Marquis's table, and he, poor man, had just\nswallowed the hook. Taking in the situation at a glance, I soon saw the\nprobability that the three clove kernels, or one or two of them, were in\nthe body of the fish, and walking boldly into the room I grasped the\nfish by the tail, and took to my heels.\n\n[Illustration: DISCOVERED A CLOVE KERNEL]\n\n'For miles I ran, out of the town and into the country without stopping,\nuntil, quite exhausted and out of breath, I sat down beneath a rock to\nrest. I now examined the fish which I still held in my hand, and found\nonly two of the kernels in its body, the Marquis having probably\nswallowed the third.\n\n'However, although not the complete number required by the prescription,\nthey were better than no clove kernels at all, so after resting awhile I\nresolved to return once more to Sicily.\n\n'After some vicissitudes I arrived at last at the home of the\nLeanmuffins to find them all in despair. Basil Herbert's condition had\nnot improved, and the physician had ceased his visits and gone in search\nof me. I soon mixed the stuff, which brought some little relief to the\nunhappy young patient--but not enough, as the lotion was not\nsufficiently strong without the third clove kernel.\n\n'We persevered, however, and the improvement was just maintained. At\nlast one evening when all the members of the family were gathered round\nthe sufferer's bed endeavouring to distract him by every manner of\nentertainment conceivable and by cheerful songs, glees, and the telling\nof interesting stories, there came a low knock at the door and somebody\ninquiring for me. Who should it be but my faithful friend the waiter,\nwho, on sweeping the floor of the Lombardic refreshment room, had\ndiscovered a little clove kernel in the corner, and, mad with delight at\nbeing able to assist me, had hastened from Lombardy to bring me the\ntreasure. Small though it was, it was enough to give the requisite\nstrength to the lotion, and in due course the young patient completely\nrecovered.\n\n'After their severe trials the Leanmuffins were completely transformed;\nfrom being ignoble, mean, and unkind, they became generous in the\nextreme. Their joy knew no bounds, and henceforth they made me quite one\nof their family, and my friend the waiter and his good people were asked\nto dine with us every Sunday that they were in Sicily.\n\n[Illustration: vignette]\n\n * * * * *\n\n[Illustration: THE INTERVAL]\n\n[Illustration: headpiece]\n\n\n\n\n'THE INTERVAL'\n\n\nWhen the Sicilian Char-woman had finished the narration of her truly\nwonderful experiences, and while the army were yet applauding her, the\nKing stepped down from his chair, and taking the good woman by the hand,\nexplained to her the object of their great expedition. 'And now,' said\nthe astute old monarch in conclusion, 'powerful as we undoubtedly are,\nand as you can see for yourself that we are, we have yet one weakness,\nand that weakness is, that we cannot boast of a single char-woman of any\ndescription within our ranks. It has occurred to us, in listening to\nyour story, that if you are able, as I have no doubt you will be, to\nobtain a good character from your last place, that we shall be delighted\nto engage you as an assistant to the amiable Boadicea in her attendance\nupon my person.'\n\n'Fiddlesticks,' snapped the abrupt woman, 'look after your person\nindeed! Look after it yourself,' and the strange creature walked off.\nUnwilling to lose such a treasure, the King called after her, and\nexplained that if he had offended her it was quite unintentionally, and\noffered her any post she would like to fill, of course providing that it\nhad not already been filled, in his army.\n\n'Now you are talking reasonably,' replied the quickly mollified\ncreature. 'Well, as you are so very kind, I don't mind being the\nflag-bearer.'\n\n'But I am really afraid we have no flag,' objected the King.\n\n'Oh, we'll soon settle that little difficulty,' replied the woman. And\nshe at once removed her apron and snatching from the astonished Scout\nthe staff he usually carried with him, she tied the apron thereto by its\ntwo strings and waved it proudly in the air three or four times, at each\ntime jumping as high as she could.\n\nEvery one cheered in their delight at the readiness of the good woman,\nand congratulated each other cordially on this interesting addition to\ntheir forces.\n\nThe King now stood up in his chair, and after quieting the general\nexcitement by ringing his bell, he thus addressed his troops:--\n\n'My dear old boys and girls, although, no doubt, I appear to you a very\nfine man indeed, with a good appetite and fairly well covered for my\ntime of life, I am not quite the man I should be. You must know that in\nmy early babyhood I was a victim to the wicked carelessness of the royal\ncook. One morning this thoughtless creature left an unboiled parsnip on\nthe garden path (had it been boiled and soft, my fate had been different\nperhaps) while chatting with a friend at the tradesmen's entrance. As\nill luck would have it, I was at the time playing on the palace roof, to\nwhich I had climbed through the nursery chimney, and, childlike, was\ngazing curiously at a strange bird flying overhead, when I overbalanced\nand fell from the roof right on to the parsnip on the garden path,\nwhich, as you will guess, hurt me very severely indeed.'\n\nThe King here exhibited to his audience a dent on his head in the form\nof a parsnip.\n\n'On hearing of this my father, of course, was highly indignant, and\nordered the cook to be beheaded instantly, or, at all events, as soon as\nshe had finished cooking the dinner.\n\n'The dinner, however, was so excellent that my father, in his enjoyment\nof it, forgot all about my mishap, and the cook went unpunished.\nNevertheless the shock to my system was so great that, feeling it even\nto this day, as I have said, I am not the man I should be. A trifle\nirritable now and again; or more sulky and disagreeable than I care to\nadmit; or at times even harsh, morose, surly, snappish, rattish, and\nshort-tempered, all little failings you have no doubt noticed, and which\nnow, knowing my early misfortune, you will more readily excuse.\n\n[Illustration: I FELL ON TO THE PARSNIP]\n\n'Well,' continued the King, 'you will at least understand that a little\nrest is good for me now and again, so that, as we have already travelled\nhalf the distance to my kingdom, I intend to give you all a whole\nholiday to-morrow, and on the day following, which happens to be my\nbirthday, I will celebrate the great occasion with a grand review, after\nwhich we shall once more resume our long journey.'\n\nThis welcome announcement was received with the greatest enthusiasm by\nthe brave fellows, and loud cheers echoed again and again through the\nforest, and a great feast was at once prepared.\n\n[Illustration: THEY ALL ONCE MORE STARTED]\n\n[Illustration: ON THEIR ADVENTUROUS JOURNEY]\n\nSeated in a circle on the grass beneath the trees, the good souls\nenjoyed to the full the simple fare before them, and then, after once\nmore cheering the old monarch, retired to their tents to sleep, and to\ndream of the morrow in store for them.\n\nNext morning, with the exception of the old King, who intended to rest\nand remain in bed all day, every one was up betimes. After a hearty\nmeal, Bill explained to them all the dangers of the great forest, and\nthe necessity of returning to camp at dusk. Then, taking care not to\ndisturb the King, they all left the camp, different parties taking\ndifferent directions, seeking amusement wherever they could find it.\n\nBill took care of his charges, who had the greatest sport in the\nworld,--tree-climbing, nutting, chasing butterflies, fishing in the\npools, playing at Wild Indians, Hunt-the-Stag, Robbers and Thieves, Poor\nJenny is a-weeping, Red Rover, and every really sensible game that there\nis to play, while Boadicea spent the time very happily in making\nbeautiful bunches of wild flowers.\n\nChad, however, was a bit of a nuisance, crying all the morning because\nhe was not allowed to eat toadstools; so to keep him out of mischief,\nBill tied him to the highest branch of a very tall tree, and there left\nhim to have his cry out.\n\nThe Long Man took Ptolemy Jenkinson in hand, and taught him how to\nbird-nest, at the same time adding to his own valuable collection of\neggs. The Ancient Mariner made a swing for the Absent-minded Indian, and\nwondered, while he was swinging him to and fro, whether he enjoyed it or\nnot, for the thoughtful creature's face still gave no sign at all of\nwhat was taking place in his mind, supposing he had one. The Doctor\nspent the day upside down, with his feet supported against the trunk of\na tree and his nose on the ground, while he studied the habits of the\nstag-beetle. The Boy Scout practised scouting by continually losing his\npatron and then finding him again, while the Respectable Gentleman\nhimself kept his respectability in hand by behaving most politely to all\nthe trees of the forest,--raising his hat to the silver-birches, leaving\nhis card on the ash-trees, introducing a hornbeam to a blackthorn,\napologising to the thistles for treading on their lower leaves,\nand, in fact, behaving like the perfect gentleman he was, and having a\nreally enjoyable day.\n\n[Illustration: And left him to have his cry out]\n\nThe Triplets played hide-and-seek, and the Sicilian Char-woman set to\nand dusted and scrubbed down a good number of the forest trees, and\nspent the rest of the day in endeavouring to clear up the last year's\nleaves that everywhere littered the grass.\n\nIt was quite late in the evening when all returned to camp, quite tired\nout, and after supper each crept quietly to bed without awakening the\nKing, and soon the whole camp was fast asleep.\n\n[Illustration: THE WHOLE CAMP WAS FAST ASLEEP]\n\nIn the morning every one awoke in the best of spirits, and brimful of\nthe many things they had to tell of the happy time they had spent the\nday before. The old monarch seemed much refreshed for his long rest, and\nbefore sitting down to breakfast every one in turn went up to him and\nshook the happy old boy by the hand, wishing him many happy returns,\nafter which they all sat down and enjoyed a substantial breakfast.\nBefore the repast was quite finished, and while the King was looking the\nother way, Bill walked round the ring formed by the army as they sat\nupon the grass, and collected birthday presents for the old monarch.\nEvery one was delighted to give something to His Majesty to show how\nmuch they appreciated his greatness, and when the old chap received the\nmany gifts, all done up in one brown paper parcel, he was so overcome\nthat he could hardly stammer forth his thanks. And this is what he\nfound in the parcel when, with trembling hands, he had succeeded in\nopening it:--\n\n From Bill, A bone-handled, two-bladed\n pocket-knife, a little rusted,\n but with only one blade\n missing.\n From Noah, Some string.\n From Ratchett, 8 brace buttons (very bright).\n From the Twins {Quentin, Wooden top of peg-top.\n {Hannibal, Iron peg of same.\n From Randall, Ferrule of umbrella.\n From Nero, More string.\n From Biddulph, Dial of old watch (not cracked\n very much).\n From Knut, Glass marble (beautifully\n coloured).\n From Chad, 2 pear drops (old, but in good\n condition).\n From the other children\n collectively, Twenty last year's horse\n chestnuts on string (very\n hard).\n From the Ancient Mariner, Piece of wood skilfully cut\n into the form of a pebble.\n From the Absent-Minded\n Indian, Nothing.\n From the Triplets, 3 bunches of violets.\n From the Respectable Gentleman, His visiting-card.\n From the Boy Scout, One of the Killgruel town-keys\n he had swallowed.\n From the Sicilian Char-woman, Small piece of soap.\n From the Long Man, Wren's egg.\n From Boadicea, A hat full of ripe blackberries.\n From the Doctor, Half of cough lozenge.\n From Ptolemy Jenkinson, A last year's ticket for a box.\n\nEvery one clamoured for a speech, but the old fellow was so affected by\nall this unexpected kindness, that he would not trust himself to open\nhis mouth, so with tears of gratitude pouring from his eyes, he retired\nto his chair. These interesting proceedings thus coming to an end, he\nwas wheeled into the forest by Boadicea until they came to the open\nspace where the review was to take place.\n\nHaving dried his eyes and smartened himself up, with Boadicea standing\nsedately at his side holding the presents, the King now solemnly awaited\nthe appearance of the troops. Soon there was a great noise in the\ndirection of the camp, and then they could be heard approaching.\n\nFirst came the nine brave sons of Crispin and Chloe, proudly marching\nthree by three, and as they passed the King each gallantly saluted him.\nNow followed the stately Char-woman with the flag held aloft, and when\nshe came opposite His Majesty she jumped magnificently three times into\nthe air. She was followed by more of Bill's charges, and then, with\ngreat dignity, Bill, the King's general, marched past the Royal Old Boy\nand saluted him grandly.\n\nAnother detachment of Bill's charges followed the general, then the\nAncient Mariner approached, and, after placing the Absent-minded Indian\non the ground, he, with much dignity, saluted the King by touching his\nforelock, sailor fashion, and after a few steps of the hornpipe, once\nmore resumed his burden and moved on. The Ancient Mariner was followed\nby the Long Man who winked knowingly at the King as he passed by.\nPtolemy Jenkinson came next, then the Doctor, who, not knowing quite\nwhat was expected of him, proceeded to feel the King's pulse, but was\nquickly hustled off by the Scout, who now approached.\n\nThe Respectable Gentleman followed the Boy Scout, and raised his hat in\na very gentlemanly manner to the King as he passed him and politely\nhanded him one of his cards, upon which he had scribbled a few good\nwishes to the old monarch.\n\nNow, one by one, the Triplets passed in front of the delighted King,\nbefore whom each of the sweet creatures performed the most graceful\ncurtsy, and the procession then terminated with another detachment of\nBill's charges.\n\nThe King was more than satisfied, and they all once more started on\ntheir adventurous journey.\n\n[Illustration: tailpiece]\n\n[Illustration: vignette]\n\n * * * * *\n\n[Illustration: THE REAL SOLDIER]\n\n[Illustration: headpiece]\n\n\n\n\nTHE REAL SOLDIER\n\n\nAfter travelling some days, they came across a real soldier seated at\nthe side of the road, and Bill at once persuaded the King to invite so\nvaluable a man to join their expedition. The King therefore left his\nchariot and approached him, and asked the noble-looking fellow if he\nwould care to make one of their party, and, if so, whether he had a good\ncharacter from his last general, and the old warrior replied:--\n\n'Allow me, my good sirs, to recite to you one of my most noteworthy\nachievements, one of which, peradventure, you may not have read in the\nnumerous books filled with accounts of my exploits. I shall thus remove\nany trace of doubt that may linger in your minds as to my great courage\nand astute generalship.'\n\nAll expressing their eagerness to hear the story, the wordful old\nwarrior proceeded:--\n\n'As near as I can remember, it was in the early fifties when, a mere\ndrummer-boy, with the bloom of early boyhood still gracing my brave\nyoung cheek, I marched with the gallant 53rd or, as you may possibly\nknow them, the King's Own Royal Roebucks, to the relief of the Isle of\nWight. This island, at the time I mention, was blockaded by that\nnotorious filibuster, Reginald Bendbrisket, a rogue who, possessed of\nthe greatest audacity and cunning, had earned for himself an unenviable\nreputation, from Margate to Samoa, by the terrible extent of his\ndepredations.\n\n'You will all doubtless remember how, disappointed in his endeavours to\nusurp the throne of Pitcairn Island, he had impudently resolved to make\na sudden raid upon the Isle of Wight; and thus to feed his own\ninsatiable greed and, at the same time, appease the disappointed rage of\nhis desperate followers, he would have plunged the peaceful little\nisland into abject misery. What tempted him thereto none can guess with\nany certainty, unless indeed it were the many false reports, spread\nabroad by the unscrupulous, of the gold, silver, and diamonds to be\nfound there; of the extensive quarries, rich in the finest hearthstone;\nand of the natural paraffin springs, that could provide the world with\nthe purest oil; and many other reports, alike false and discreditable to\ntheir inventor and to those who repeated them to the credulous stranger.\n\n'Had the rogue been successful in his latest raid, his small band of\nfollowers (mayhap increased to a powerful army by the hordes of\ndiscontented periwinkle-gatherers, prawners, and lobster-potterers that\nearn a scanty living on our shores) would, without doubt, have had at\ntheir mercy the Isle of Sheppey and the numerous other Islets that\nornament our coasts. And then, from these a sudden and successful\ndescent on Ludgate Hill would have rendered him master of the whole of\nLondon. Now I am going to tell you how the courage and forethought of a\nsimple drummer-boy frustrated all his schemes, and brought to his knees\none of the most unscrupulous enemies that has ever invaded our shores.\n\n'To come back to the beginning of my story, we had a comfortable journey\ndown, the tedium of which had been greatly relieved by delightful\nconversation and intellectual chatting, each in his turn considerably\nastounding the others by the amount of intelligence he displayed. These\npursuits were again varied by interesting recitations, and such\nparlour-games as could be conveniently played in a railway carriage. We\narrived in the afternoon at a snug little hamlet on the coast opposite\nthe island, whence we embarked in a fleet of disused barges and\ndredgers. We reached our destination, after a fairly calm voyage,\nwithout having excited the curiosity of the invaders, only one of whose\nvessels we passed, and all on board it were so engrossed with the\ncaptain, who was violently sea-sick, that we passed unobserved.\n\n'We were 2,352 strong, including the gallant 53rd, of which I was a\nmember, a battery of artillery, a camel corps, two squadrons of the\nsmartest cavalry that ever chased a rabbit across the Hackney Marshes,\nand a battalion of infantry, so well trained that there was not one of\nthe rank and file who could not play quite delightfully on the piano;\nwhile the officers were unexcelled at conjuring tricks, with which they\nused to amuse the soldiers seated round the camp-fires of an evening. We\nwere ably generalled by that best of all officers, Sir Francis Melville\nGlowmutton, whose fame in after years very nearly earned for him the\nhonour of being mentioned in a popular Encyclopaedia.\n\n'We were met on the beach by a procession of the inhabitants, headed by\nthe president of the island, all of whom were delighted to see us, and\nextended to us the most hospitable of welcomes. Without waiting for\nformal introductions, they fraternised in the most friendly spirit with\nthe troops who, in turn, were charmed with their reception and, being\nquite beyond themselves with gratification, adorned their conversation\nwith the most graceful compliments to the inhabitants and grateful\ntributes to their kindness.\n\n'The blockade had lasted barely eight weeks, so that, as yet, the\ninhabitants of the island were not aware of it, and when they learnt\nfrom the soldiers the real state of affairs, they rejoiced beyond\nmeasure, and redoubled their congratulations to the army and to each\nother, and the president seized the very first opportunity publicly to\nthank the general for his thoughtfulness in coming to relieve them.\n\n'For quite a long time the handshaking went on, and every one was so\namiably excited that the president, anxious that so much good feeling\nshould not be thrown away, invited every one to spend the evening with\nhim at his presidency on the Needles.\n\n'And such a bright and happy evening it was too! Every one in the best\nof spirits, and entering blithely into all the games! \"Oranges and\nLemons,\" \"Nuts and May,\" and \"Poor Jenny is a-weeping,\" had never,\nwithin the memory of any one present, been played with greater zest,\nand, what was more wonderful, never had the rather trying game of \"Hunt\nthe Slipper\" provoked less ill-temper since it was first introduced into\nthis country at the Norman Conquest.\n\n[Illustration: THE REAL SOLDIER]\n\n'The joy of the frolicsome ones was only equalled by that of the older\ninhabitants and the elderly officers, who, seated on chairs placed for\nthem round the wails of the hall, fairly shook with laughter and\nmerriment, until the tears rolled down their handsome old cheeks.\n\n'At last, with flushed and happy faces, all sat down to a splendid cold\nsupper provided by the President, but it was some little time before the\nfeast could proceed, as every one was so well-behaved that there was\nquite a turmoil of passing things to one another. At last, however,\nevery one was served, and the supper proceeded with the greatest mirth\non all sides.\n\n'After a while the president stood up to make a speech, and had only got\nas far as, \"Ladies and Gentlemen, it is not that we----\" when, to\neverybody's consternation, there was a loud knock at the door and,\nwithout waiting to be asked, in stalked the notorious Reginald himself.\n\n'Having approached the table, he slowly withdrew his gaze from the\nrefreshments (to which it had wandered on his entry), and, drawing\nhimself to his greatest height, demanded of the president the instant\nsurrender of the island to him as his rightful property, averring that\nit had been left to him by an aunt, whose favourite he had been. Then,\nputting his hand to his bosom, he drew thence an old roll of parchment\nwhich, indeed, proved to be the Will of one Martha Grub. This he handed\nto the president, who read aloud therefrom the following clause, which\nhad been underlined:--\n\n 'And I do bequeath unto my good sister's son, the shapely Reginald\n Bendbrisket, inasmuch as he has shown some kindness unto my black\n cat, now dead alas! twenty jars of the good plum preserve I did make\n last fall as well as five yards of the good garden hose wherewith I\n did heretowhile water my cabbages in the droughty seasons, the rest\n to be cut up and divided equally amongst my other nephews and nieces\n to be used by them as they may see fit whatsoever.\n\n 'At their demise the said pieces shall be delivered up to the said\n Reginald, who will once more unite the fragments and pass the\n completed hose on to his heirs for ever.\n\n 'For his goodness in undertaking thus to carry out my wishes I do\n also bequeath unto the before-mentioned Reginald the Island of Wight\n situate at the south coast of England.\n\n'On reading this the president turned very pale and every one trembled,\nnever having dreamt of the strength of the invader's position. But being\na bit of a lawyer, the president very soon rallied and replied to the\nfilibuster, in as courtly a manner as he could assume, that he was bound\nto admit that his aunt Martha had, without doubt, left the island to\nhim, and that he would be the last man to dispute the fact--here the\nrogue, vainly imagining that he was about to realise his greatest hopes,\ncould not conceal his satisfaction, and helped himself to a\nsandwich--\"But hold!\" cried the president in a terrible voice, \"I do\ndispute that it was hers to leave.\"\n\n[Illustration: 'BUT HOLD!' CRIED THE PRESIDENT]\n\n[Illustration: Reginald completely lost his temper]\n\n'At this the irascible Reginald completely lost his temper and hurled\nthe sandwich with such fury to the ground that it broke one of the\ngorgeous tiles that ornamented the floor. \"Have you,\" said he, \"the\naudacity to doubt the word of my aunt Martha? Have you the face to stand\nthere and dispute the will of that excellent woman, written when dying\nof a broken heart at the death of her black cat, and whose only solace\nwas the company of her dutiful nephew? Then your fate be upon your\nown head.\" And he strode out of the hall gnashing and grinding his teeth\nin the most terrible manner, only stopping to pick up the sandwich which\nhe had thrown down in his outburst of passion.\n\n[Illustration: 'YOUR FATE BE UPON YOUR OWN HEAD']\n\n'When the door had slammed to with terrific force behind him there was a\ngreat silence in the hall, and we all looked at one another with scared\nfaces. Soon every one arose from the table, and silently left the\nbanqueting-hall to prepare for the fight which we now knew would come on\nthe morrow.\n\n'Try as I would, I could not sleep for thinking of the battle in store\nfor us. I counted more sheep than would have fed our army for six\nmonths, but with no result. I then tried elephants, and after that\ncamels and zebras, and finally, hoping that their odd shapes might bring\nme repose, I tried ant bears, but all in vain. At last, in despair, I\nrose from my hard couch, donned my uniform, and snatching up a cracknel,\nstrode out of my tent.\n\n'Murmuring \"Brittle Pantechnicons\" (which, by the way, was our password)\nto the sentry, I strolled idly down to the sea. It was a beautiful and\nperfectly still night, with not a ripple to disturb the surface of the\nsea, upon which, here and there, would glow a little shimmer of light as\nthe phosphorescent turbot rose to its prey. In the distance, and away to\nthe right, could be seen the camp-fires of the enemy, and the\nreflections in the pools left by the tide. Ever and anon sounds of\nmerriment could be heard as the invaders, heedless of the morrow, spent\nthe night in revelry. To the left, and further back, could be seen the\ntents of our forces, not a sound arising therefrom except the low\nmonotonous breathing of the soldiers (who were so well drilled that even\nin their sleep they breathed in time), or maybe the \"Who goes there?\" of\nthe sentry would sound in the darkness, as he mistook a moth for a spy,\nor the drone of the beach bee for the war-whoop of the enemy.\n\n'At the water's edge, dark against the starry sky, I found a solitary\nbathing-machine, beneath which I crept, and here at length my weariness\nquite overcame me and I slept. How long I remained thus I cannot tell,\nbut I was awakened by heavy footsteps on the floor of the machine over\nmy head. My curiosity was intense, but resisting the temptation to rush\nout and satisfy it, I wisely resolved to remain in my present position\nas long as possible.\n\n[Illustration: FLOUNDERING ABOUT IN THE SEA]\n\n'Presently the mysterious tenant of the machine opened its seaward door\nand stood revealed in the light of the moon, which had arisen during my\nsleep, as the terrible Reginald Bendbrisket himself, clothed in a deep\nblack bathing-suit. I crouched down, not daring to move a muscle, and\nwas presently relieved to see him, after standing for some time on the\nsteps of the machine, amble carefully over the stones to the edge of the\nsea, into which he plunged.\n\n'Now it was that an idea suddenly occurred to me, and I instantly crept\nfrom my place of concealment, and stealing up to the landward door of\nthe machine nailed it fast with the hammer and nails I always carried\nwith me to mend my drum, which was not infrequently broken beneath my\nenthusiastic blows. Having secured the front door, I now crept in at\nthe back and, doffing my own clothes, soon donned those of the\nunconscious filibuster, who was still floundering about in the sea.\nHaving effected this change, I crept back to my former position under\nthe machine, and had barely made myself comfortable there when I saw the\nrogue returning.\n\n'After scrambling painfully over the stony beach he mounted the steps\nand entered the machine, and the slam of the door as it closed upon him\nwas the signal for me to rush out and secure this as I had already\nsecured the front door. Having done this, I waited no longer, but made\noff with all possible speed in the direction of the enemy's camp, which\nI had nearly reached, when I heard a most terrible banging from the\ninterior of the now distant bathing-machine. Losing no time, I entered\nthe camp, and, being easily mistaken for their captain, passed on\nunchallenged.\n\n'Arriving in time at the centre of the camp, I found all the men\ngathered together, having forsaken their revels, evidently in\nexpectation of the return of their leader.\n\n[Illustration: IN EXPECTATION OF THEIR LEADER]\n\n'Standing before the villainous crew, I assumed, as nearly as I could,\nthe mien and rough harsh voice of their filibustering captain, and\nordered them to embark at once and to leave the island, as it had been\nreinforced during the night by such a mass of thundering artillery as\nwould be impossible to withstand, and that they were even now fast\napproaching along the beach from the other end of the island where they\nhad landed. The men, on hearing this appeared quite incredulous and\ntheir growls of disbelief grew louder and louder and threatened a\nterrible mutiny. Having at length gained a hearing, I invited them all\nto that part of the camp by which I had entered, to hear for themselves\nthe approach of the distant hosts. Leading them all, still grumbling and\ngrowling, a little way beyond the camp, I commanded them all to be\nabsolutely quiet, and then, in the silence which ensued, could be heard\nfar away in the direction of the bathing-machine a most terrific and\ncontinuous banging, together with the sound of muffled shouting.\n\n'The men were aghast, and in the moonlight their swarthy faces could be\nseen to change to a ghastly white. Then, with an unearthly yell, they\nall turned and fled in a wild panic to the boats. They tumbled over and\nover each other in their anxiety to get away, and many got wet to the\nskin in their endeavour to reach the boats. At last, to my great joy, I\nsaw the last of them pull off and reach the ships, which now put on all\nsail and vanished away for ever.\n\n'I now returned to the bathing-machine, from which still came a terrible\ndin, though not quite so violent as it had been at first.\n\n'Taking hold of the rope that was fastened to it, I began to drag the\nmachine in the direction of our camp, the banging meanwhile gradually\nsubsiding, until at last only an occasional bang proclaimed the machine\nto be inhabited. As before, I passed the sentry by murmuring \"Brittle\nPantechnicons\" and drew the machine up in front of the General's tent.\n\n'The General, having finished an early breakfast, was just setting out\nto take a stroll before settling down to plan out the battle, and seeing\nme, whom he at first took to be Reginald Bendbrisket, the good man\nreceived quite a severe shock. However, I soon undeceived him, and after\nrelating my adventures I unfastened the door of the bathing-machine,\nand disclosed therein the form of the filibuster on bended knees,\nimploring our mercy.\n\n'Every one was delighted at such a speedy end to the campaign, for my\npart in which I was duly honoured. Reginald Bendbrisket, after a mild\npunishment, reformed and became a very respectable gentleman, the\npresident kindly using his influence to secure for him a lucrative\nposition in a well-known Insurance Office.\n\n'And thus, my good Sirs, it is, that the Isle of Wight still remains one\nof our many valued possessions.'\n\n'The very man for me,' thought the King of Troy, when he had finished\nhis story, and before proceeding with their journey, he promoted the\nmartial creature to the high position of second General-in-chief of the\narmy.\n\n[Illustration: tailpiece]\n\n[Illustration: vignette]\n\n * * * * *\n\n[Illustration: THE WILD MAN]\n\n[Illustration: headpiece]\n\n\n\n\nTHE WILD MAN\n\n\nOne day the army were overtaken by a singularly wild-looking man who\nproved, however, to be at the same time quite an amiable creature, and\nexpressed a great desire to seek some employment with the gallant\nfellows. The King was pleased to enlist the nice and sociable person,\nand was more than repaid for his confidence in him by his charming ways.\nOn one occasion, when the King was rather tired and worried, the Wild\nMan, in order to distract the dear old fellow, told the following\nstory:--\n\n'Good Sirs, though wild enough indeed, yet may I claim to be an unspoilt\nchild of nature, whose finest instincts have, unchecked, found their\ntrue development. Thus, communing with nature from my cradle and living\non terms of the closest intimacy with her wildest creatures, I can\nappreciate their humble wants, their hopes and fears, and have acquired\nthe truly marvellous power of conversing with these simple-minded\ndenizens of the wilderness.\n\n'My home was a rocky cave hard by the sea-shore, in which I lived in\nsimple happiness with my good wife, now dead, alas! this many a long\nyear ago, and our five brown children, who long since have grown to men\nand gone out into the world to seek their fortunes. Harmless indeed were\nour joys, and our trials we bore with that great fortitude which was not\nthe least of the blessings we derived from our simple mode of life.\n\n'To proceed with my tale, on one dismal evening late in autumn, I left\nmy cave, with the hungry cries of my children still in my ears,--for,\nindeed, the poor things had had no sup or bite the whole day through.\nWondering what I could do that they might not go supperless to bed, I\nstrolled along the sands by the sea in the hope of finding some odd\nlimpet or whelk which, together with a few dried dandelion leaves, might\nmake a simple stew. Alas! no vestige of a single crustacean could I\nfind, so I sat me down upon the sands, determined not to return until\nthe children had fallen asleep on the dry ferns and grass heaped up for\nthem at the back of the cave, as their cries were more torment to me\nthan my own emptiness.\n\n'The sun had long ago set, and the autumnal twilight, reflected in the\npools of still water left by the far receded tide, was gradually fading\nfrom the sky, when I fancied I could hear a low heart-rending moan from\noff the desolate waste of sand before me. Again and again it sounded,\nand at last realising that it might be uttered by some creature in\ndistress, I stood up and, as far as the fading light would permit,\nscanned the sands in every direction.\n\n'Nothing, however, could I see, and as the moan still continued at\nintervals and became, in fact, more and more painful and beseeching, I\nwandered about, a prey to the liveliest anxiety, endeavouring to\ndiscover whence it proceeded.\n\n'At length I perceived on the sand, at a little distance before me, a\nsmall dark motionless object, and at that instant a harrowing sound,\narising therefrom on the evening air, left me in no doubt as to the\norigin of the moans I had already heard. Creeping as quietly as possible\non my hands and knees quite close to it, I found it to be a lovely blue\npoint oyster, and bringing my head to a level with the shell, I asked\ncoaxingly, and in as soft a voice as I could command, what ailed it.\n\n[Illustration: Harmless indeed were our joys]\n\n'\"Alas!\" said the oyster, \"a little while ago I possessed a child as\nsweet as ever chortled to its gasping mother, but snatched from me\nas it has been by the cruellest of whelks, it may even now lie helpless\nin the grasp of the ravenous brute, as it ruthlessly sups off its\ndelicate limbs. No such grief have I had since that old native, my\nworthy husband, was slain, and was laid in state, his hoary head\nsupported by a slice of lemon, beside a piece of brown bread-and-butter.\"\n\n[Illustration: I PLEADED MY CASE]\n\n'Deeply affected by her grief, I begged her to reveal the name of the\nlittle one and to indicate the direction taken by the marauding whelk.\n\"Bertram is its name,\" said the widowed blue point, and I could hear\nthe tears falling within the shell as, with her beard, she pointed out\nthe path followed by the rogue.\n\n'I had not proceeded far in the direction indicated when I overtook a\nwhelk, whose face was quite distorted by a savage look, and whose growls\ndrowned the feeble cries of a tender blue pointlet whom he dragged along\nby the beard.\n\n'\"Now what is all this about?\" said I to the sullen fellow. \"Why should\nyou, who are maybe blessed with young of your own, rob a poor widowed\noyster of her only consolation since the death of her husband? A heart\nof rock would have melted at the cries of your victim, but you,\nungenerous, can have no heart at all, and entirely drag the name of\nwhelk through the mud.\" I could distinctly hear the ruffian lashing his\ntail within his shell as he replied: \"It's all very well for you, old\nboy, but all that kind of nonsense you're talking don't come in here. If\nit were a question of saving your own life I'll bet you wouldn't give\nmuch ear to the whimperings of a sentimental blue point. Know then, old\nstick, that it isn't for the love of children that I am dragging this\nlittle brat along, but he's just going to be the supper of an old crab,\nwho caught me this afternoon and only let me go on the condition that I\nfound him something a little more toothsome and tender than I am.\"\n\n'The cries of the infant were cruel to hear when it learnt the fate in\nstore for it, and filled my heart with pity for the frail youngster.\n\"Now come,\" said I to the whelk, \"just wait a little while and consider,\nwould it not always be a sad thing for you to reflect upon that you had\nbeen the cause of this frail young thing's death?\" \"Gammon!\" answered\nthe leather-hearted whelk, and proceeded on its journey. \"Stay yet\nawhile,\" cried I, \"and I will run and talk it over with the crab and see\nif his hard shell may hide a kinder heart than yours.\" \"Well, look\nalive, old sentiments,\" replied the whelk; \"it's a bit chilly waiting\nabout out of the water when the tide's low. You'll see the old rascal\nover there by the sea.\"\n\n'I hastened with what speed I might in the direction pointed out by the\nwhelk, and presently came upon the old crab. Before I had time to greet\nhim he accosted me with \"Well, old kneebones, what's the trouble?\" \"No\ntrouble of mine I do assure you,\" I replied as I seated myself by his\nside, taking care at the same time to keep well out of reach of his two\npincer claws, that wobbled about wickedly in my direction; thus in some\ntrepidation I continued the conversation. \"The trouble is that of an\ninnocent blue pointlet, now alas! in the toils of a perfect bully of a\nwhelk, a worthless rough who is thus victimising the innocent to save\nhimself from ending his paltry existence in your inside. Now my good\nfellow, I am perfectly certain that you are not going to allow this,\nindeed you are not the sort to sacrifice another's life to satisfy your\nown greed. Let me press you, just for once, to go supperless to bed, and\nthus assuage the anguish of a most affectionate mother.\"\n\n'Much to my mortification and surprise, my conciliatory speech was met\nby roars of laughter from the flippant old crab. Peal upon peal\ndisturbed the still evening air, and when the last clash of the hideous\nuproar had died away among the distant hills, the unfeeling brute, now\nin a state of collapse from loss of breath, gasped out:--\"What, me give\nup the only chance of saving myself from that scoundrel of a lobster who\nonly let me go on my promising to secure him something for supper a\nlittle less hard than myself! Well,\" continued the crab, \"that's a good\n'un, that is. My good chap you must be quite out of your senses. Why,\nnot only will I hand over the baby oyster to the lobster, but I intend\nalso to have my supper off that tough old idiot of a whelk, who reckons\nhe's going to get off scot-free, and old mother blue point, too, if I\ncan find her,\" and then, as an afterthought, \"and you, old marrow-bones,\nwouldn't make half a bad tit-bit if I could get hold of you,\" and he\nmade a horrid dash at me as he spoke. However, I easily evaded him, and\nfrom a safer distance argued the matter out with him in the following\nway:--\n\n'\"Allow me, my dear crustacean, to put the matter to you in this light.\nNow, first of all, clear your mind of all unnecessary bias. Suppose,\"\nsaid I, \"that you were to change places with the young oyster, suppose,\nwe'll say, that you had the near prospect of being devoured by the\ngreedy lobster. How would you feel, I say, if your neighbour not only\nrefused to exert himself in any way to extricate you from your\npredicament, but also gloried in being the main cause of the disaster\nthat threatened you?\"\n\n[Illustration: AND KILLED IT ON THE SPOT]\n\n'The wily scoundrel merely replied, \"Ask me another,\" and with his left\neye-stalk bent towards the ground, insolently winked at me with the\nother. Despairing of penetrating his tough shell with kindly\nsuggestions, I temporised with him, and succeeded in persuading him to\ndesist from his evil intentions until I had talked it over with the\nlobster. Out of sheer perversity the crab directed me wrongly, but in\ngood time, after some wandering here and there, I discovered the\nlobster.\n\n'I pleaded my case to him as eloquently as I had already done to the\nothers,--nay, even more eloquently, being, no doubt, a little more used\nto it by now, but yet with no apparent good result. The wary creature\npretended ignorance. \"To which crab do you refer?\" said he, in a\nquestioning tone; \"I have so much business with crustaceans in one way\nand another that you would be surprised to learn how confused I become\nin my dealings with them.\" To the best of my ability I described the\nappearance of the old crab, and aided my description with a slight\nsketch on the sand made with the point of my umbrella. He gazed at this\nwith much interest and murmured to himself \"considerable artistic\ntalent,\" and then aloud, \"Oh yes, yes, I remember him quite well;\nindeed, he was here only recently about a little matter of supper. Well,\nwell, I'm afraid I cannot be of any help to you here. You see, it's like\nthis. Earlier in the day, I came to a little arrangement (quite a little\nbusiness affair, by the way) with an old lady conger eel I have known\nfor many years, and it happened in this way. We were having a little\ndispute as to who should sup off the other, and without going into\ndetails, the upshot of it all was that the eel managed to tie herself in\na knot round my throat, and so, you see, was mistress of the situation.\nI need not tell you that I did not lose my presence of mind--indeed, I\nnever do--and I politely asked her if she had ever tasted crab, and\neffectually persuaded her that they were much better eating than\nlobster, and undertook to procure her a beauty (thinking all the time,\nof course, of our mutual friend), on the understanding that I should go\nquite free. It's very sad and all that sort of thing, no doubt, about\nthe little oyster--sweet little chuck--indeed, I am more sorry than I\nappear to be about it, but really what can one do?\" And the lobster\nshrugged his bristling shoulders. \"Speaking to you,\" he continued, \"as\none man of the world to another, business is business after all, you\nknow. And if we don't fulfil our obligations, where do we stand? Of\ncourse, I don't say but what a little chat with the conger might make it\nall right, and there's no harm in trying--she's a nice eel. I feel sure\nyou would like her, at least I felt I should, when I invited her to be\nmy supper--and if nothing comes of the meeting, well, we shall none of\nus be any worse off than we are at the present moment. If at any other\ntime I can be of use to you, I do hope that you will not hesitate to\ncome round and ask. Good day.\"\n\n'I now left him to search for the conger, whom I found dozing in a pool\nnear the sea. I took her out and placed her gently on the sand, and she\ngradually opened her eyes and fastened them on me. I once more expounded\nthe reasons why, in my opinion, this cruel arrangement should not be\npersisted in. I quite astonished myself by my own eloquence, which grew\nmore impassioned as I proceeded, and noticed that the old conger seemed\ndeeply impressed. As I came to the most affecting parts of my argument\nthe expression in her eyes grew really tender, and at the mention of\nthe little blue point a tear gathered in each eye and slowly coursed\ndown her shiny form. At the conclusion of my appeal the conger drew in a\ndeep breath and replied:--\"Well, I never! Now that is what I really do\ncall good and kind. Oh pray come and sit down beside me on the sand and\ntell me all about it--now do, and tell me what first put it into your\nhead--it is so very nice to come across a little real sentiment in these\nmatter-of-fact times.\" Without waiting for me to proceed she rattled\non:--\"Upon my word, you really must have the kindest heart in the\nworld--but are you quite sure you are comfy? Why not come round the\nother side; you'll be out of the wind there, and we can talk it over\nwithout anything to interfere with us. I quite agree with you in\neverything you have said, and I must say that I know of nothing more\ndelightful than to find one's own thoughts expressed so much more\nclearly than one could do it oneself. Do you know, I am quite delighted\nto have met you, and hope that this is the commencement of one of those\nlasting friendships....\"\n\n[Illustration: WE COOKED ONE GREAT STEAK]\n\n'Thus she gabbled on, and thinking to myself, here, at last, is a\nkind-hearted soul, I asked her to promise to take the baby oyster back\nto its sorrowing mother, when she received it from the lobster. \"What an\nextremely kind thought,\" she replied; \"I assure you there is nothing in\nthe whole world I would love to do so much as to take the little thing\nback to its Ma.\" Glancing dreamily at the sky the old eel\ncontinued:--\"Dear little mite! I can see it even now, in my mind's eye,\nas it skips to its mother; she, dear soul, the while shedding pearls of\ndelight,--a memory to carry to your grave. But I expect you must be\ngoing now--no doubt you are as busy as the rest of us--are they all well\nat home?--good-bye,\" and she prepared to return to the sea. \"But, my\ndear woman,\" I protested, \"I have not yet received your promise to see\nthe little oyster home.\" \"Now,\" said the eel, \"pray don't spoil the\npleasant evening we have had--but never mind--don't look so\nserious--come round some evening with the wife and children--don't say\nyou won't.\" \"But, Madam,\" I answered, \"I am waiting for your promise to\nsee the little one home.\" \"My dear Sir,\" she replied at last, growing\nrather red in the face, \"I can give you nothing of the kind, and must\nreally refer you to the whale who captured me a little while ago, and\nonly released me because I promised to procure him a lobster, which I\npersuaded him would be much more digestible and less bilious than I\nshould prove to be as a meal.\"\n\n'I now went in search of the whale, whom I discovered disporting himself\nin the sea a very little way from the shore. Taking my shoes and\nstockings off, I waded as near to him as I dared, and to conciliate him\nright off I wore as benignant an expression as I could assume and thus\naddressed him: \"Of one thing I am convinced,\" said I, \"and it is that\nyou are the last person in all the world who would willingly give pain\nto anything,--least of all to a baby oyster.\" \"Quite so, quite so,\"\nsnorted the whale, \"and what is more I never have and, upon my soul, I\nnever _will_.\" \"Bravo, good resolution,\" cried I, and then in moving\nterms I explained the situation and urged him to take the blue pointlet\nback to its mother on receiving it from the conger eel. \"What is this\nyou say,\" roared the whale; \"do you mean to tell me that in exchange for\nher own fat self that villainous conger-eel now offers me a baby oyster\ninstead of the promised lobster? Is it for this gross insult that I\nallowed her to resume her wretched existence? Well, I'm thundered!\" and\nthe enraged monster leapt seventy feet into the air. \"Where is she?\"\nroared he, and made off in the direction of the conger.\n\n'But the old girl was one too many for the whale this time, and having\nheard his remarks on her conduct, off she darted after the lobster,\nsaying to herself that as the whole arrangement had fallen through, she\nmight just as well sup off the lobster,--besides, the claws would stew\nup quite well for the children's dinner to-morrow. The lobster in his\nturn, seeing the conger approach, at once understood that the affair was\nall off and left his little cave by the back door as conger entered by\nthe front, and made for the place where he knew he would find the crab,\narguing to himself thus:--\"At any rate, the crab will make an excellent\nsupper to which I have every right; for after all, as I have before\nremarked, business is business, and he will certainly be unable to\nfulfil his obligations.\" The saucy crab, however, saw him coming along\nwith his mouth wide open ready to gobble him up, and shouted tauntingly\nto him:--\"Keep your bristles on, old prawn\" and ran off after the whelk.\n\"Nothing really matters,\" thought he, \"and as I feel a bit peckish I may\nas well eat up friend whelk and the blue pointlet 'll come in for a\nlight breakfast in the morning.\" The cowardly whelk, reading the crab's\nevil intention in his eyes offered him the baby oyster. \"Thanks, old\nflint,\" said the crab, \"I'll have you first and the youngster another\ntime,\" and he pounced on the whelk and ate him right up. But as he was\ncrawling off in great comfort the old lobster overtook him and in no\ntime polished him off. The lobster, now too contented to move quickly,\nwas slowly returning to the water when up came the conger-eel who,\nwithout any delay, proceeded to strangle him and then to gobble him up.\nAfter her feast, the old girl, in her turn, felt drowsy. \"I think,\" said\nshe, \"I now deserve a nap,\" and she lay down in a pool and went fast\nasleep. Presently the whale came along, having been hunting for the\nconger all over the place. As soon as he caught sight of her he roared\nin his wrath, \"Is this what you call keeping your bargain?\" and with one\ngulp he bolted her,--head, fins, tail and all.\n\n'Then, having accomplished his revenge, and at the same time satisfied\nhis appetite, his contentment was complete and he rolled over on his\nside in the shallow water, and fell into a deep sleep.\n\n'Now, thought I, is this not providential? Is there not here not merely\nthe evening meal I left my cave to seek, but many meals for my good wife\nand children,--enough in fact to ward off hunger throughout the winter\nthat is now fast approaching. Taking up a great rock I hurled it with\nall my force at the head of the whale and killed it on the spot. I now\nproceeded to cut up the great creature and carry it, piece by piece, to\nmy cave, and that very night, when it was all safely stowed, we cooked\none great steak for supper, waking the children in order that they might\nshare the meal, and the remainder my good wife preserved in brine. Thus\nin comfort we lived the winter through.\n\n'The little oyster found its way back to its mother, and so grateful\nwere they both for my endeavours to help them, that they took up their\nabode with us. Bertram grew to a fine chubby blue point. \"Just like his\nfather,\" said the proud mother, and nothing reached our hearts so nearly\nas his playful, charming ways.'\n\n[Illustration: tailpiece]\n\n[Illustration: vignette]\n\n * * * * *\n\n[Illustration: THE MUSICIAN]\n\n[Illustration: headpiece]\n\n\n\n\nTHE MUSICIAN\n\n\nSometimes now the old King showed signs of weariness, and Bill bethought\nhim that a little music occasionally might soothe his nerves. So in the\nvery next town they came to he engaged the only musician in the place,\nand very willing he was too to come along.\n\nHe played very wonderful music on his old concertina, often assisted\nwith his voice, and one evening, after a very beautiful performance, the\ntalented creature related the following story to his enchanted\nhearers:--\n\n'Right glad have I been, good fellows all, to join you in this your\nnoble enterprise to right our stout old brother of Troy here, and in\ngood time I trust that my great deeds shall prove my sincerity. But, in\nthe meantime, as supper hour draws on apace, and the frizzling cutlets\ndo scent the evening air, a little story should not be amiss to distract\nyour anxious minds, and thus to check the impatience of your appetite.\n\n'Know then, my jovial birds, my cunning blades, that I am the eldest son\nof that Prince of Polynesia who united the scattered kingdoms of this\nunwieldy archipelago into one vast empire, over which he ruled with\neven-handed justice and some common-sense until his death. Ah! lads, if\nall had their rights I should at the present moment be seated on the\nsoft cushions of my father's throne, and maybe more able to be of help\nto you than I am now; but you must take the will for the deed.\n\n'My word! what a plump and healthy child was I, and withal as jolly and\nas hearty as the day was long. Moreover, was not I the pride of the\nempire and the envy of all the other kings and princes who had ever seen\nor heard of me? Alas! who could have foretold that I was thus early in\nlife destined to have a real good taste of the troubles of this weary\nworld, and, though surrounded by every care and attention and the object\nof the greatest affection that ever bubbled in the human heart, shortly\nto become the victim of the meanest spite.\n\n'But to proceed with the yarn--neither care nor expense was spared in my\nupbringing, to which possibly more thought was devoted than even to the\neducation of our very well-educated and trustworthy friend, the buxom\nSicilian char-woman. At all events, the most certificated nurses\nprocurable were continually being engaged, but apparently only to be\ndismissed again, for, almost perfect as most of them were, I can assure\nyou that, in the course of a very little time they were certain, of\ncourse, to reveal (as was only natural) some slight weakness, and I ask\nyou, good comrades all, which of us is without 'em? This overcarefulness\non the part of my good parents was to be the cause of the disaster that\nwas soon entirely to change the trend of my life.\n\n'It came about in this way. One of the discharged nurses, indignant at\nwhat, with some show of reason, she considered an injustice to herself\n(she had been dismissed for curling my hair only a little to the right\ninstead of quite to the right), resolved to revenge herself on her late\nmaster and mistress, in such a manner as should be most likely to leave\nthem wretched for the remainder of their lives. Knowing the\noverextravagance of their affection for me, she cruelly determined to\nstrike them in this, their weakest spot. One dark night, after cleverly\nevading the ever-wakeful guards, she crept into my father's palace.\nStealing up the main staircase without attracting observation, she\narrived at the now empty throne-room, which she stealthily traversed,\nkeeping all the while close to the wall. She then passed through the\nlittle door at the left of the grand throne and found herself in the\nbilliard-room. She had not, however, taken two steps therein when a\nfearful panic seized her, for what should she behold but the stout form\nof my rare old dad the emperor leaning over the table, apparently in the\nact of making a brilliant stroke. A few seconds' consideration, however,\nserved to convince the vengeful creature that he was fast asleep.\nGnashing her teeth at the old gentleman, she hurried across the room and\nentered the library, in which my good mother was seated, reading. But so\nabsorbed was the good lady in her book that she took no notice whatever\nof the agile intruder, as she entered by one door and swiftly left by\nthe other. She now successively passed through the state ball-room, the\nmusic-room, the third best drawing-room, the second best ball-room, and\nthe state bed-room, and mounting the back stairs, came to the suite of\nrooms occupied by the nurses, and eventually reached the nurses'\ndining-hall, into which my nursery led, without having excited any one's\nobservation.\n\n'Opening my door very quietly, she peeped in. All was dark inside except\nfor the glimmer of a night-light which shone on the frilling of my\ncradle and on the form of the nurse then in office, who had fallen\nasleep over her supper of stewed apples. Creeping in quietly, the\nevil-minded woman lifted my sleeping form from the cradle, so gently\nthat she did not awaken me, and, holding me closely to her, once more\nsuccessfully passed through all the apartments she had already\ntraversed, without arousing any suspicion, and at length found herself\nagain in the open air.\n\n'Without losing a moment, she now made off to the woods, and after\nwandering in these for some time, she met an old witch with whom, no\ndoubt, she had an appointment. Seated on the grass, the two women\nhaggled and haggled, and at last the treacherous nurse sold me to the\nwitch for three cocoanuts, and then went on her way and out of my life\nfor ever.\n\n'Now it happened that the old witch lived in the hollow trunk of a tree\nwith her foster son, a tiny gnome named Orpheus, as quaint a little\nobject as ever I set eyes on, who played incessantly and most\nbeautifully on an old concertina, the very one, in fact, which I now\ncarry with me. The little fellow had been found some years before by the\nold witch wandering near the ruins of an old temple in the very middle\nof the wood. To whom he belonged, and whence he had come, no one\nknew,--not even he himself, perhaps. However, the old girl adopted him,\nand now nothing could exceed the motherly affection with which she\nregarded this dry and shrivelled-up little chap,--unless, indeed, it was\nthe ardour with which the grateful gnome returned it. In fact, I learned\nsome time afterwards that the old witch had purchased me solely that I\nmight be a companion for this rum little person.\n\n[Illustration: SHE NOW MADE OFF TO THE WOODS]\n\n'The old girl, weird as was her general appearance, did all she could to\nmake me comfortable,--in fact far more than an ordinary witch would have\ndreamt of doing,--and in recognition of her well-intentioned attitude\ntowards myself, I encouraged the spark of friendliness I began to feel\nfor her. But for her darling son, as soon as I grew accustomed to his\nquaint appearance, and realised his kindness of heart and friendly\ndisposition towards myself, I conceived a great affection. He would\nclimb to the topmost branches of our tree, to practise his exercises\nevery morning, in order that I should not be worried with melancholy\nrepetitions, and, when perfected in some melody, who shall describe the\nunaffected joy with which he would come down and play it for my delight?\nHow often in the moonlight (I lying on the grass at his side) would he\nplay over and over again to me some melancholy air, while our\nfoster-mother, mayhap, would be sweeping the dead leaves from our abode,\nand preparing it for our night's repose.\n\n[Illustration: HE WOULD CLIMB TO THE TOPMOST BRANCHES]\n\n'Not I alone was gratified and enchanted by his dulcet tones, for all\nthe creatures of the woodland drew near and listened as night gradually\ncovered the sky, and he played through his evening pieces.\n\n[Illustration: And played it for my delight]\n\n'Elephants hovered around in the shadows of the trees, and sighed great\nslobbering sighs. Bullfinches, sparrows, eagles, flamingoes, wild geese,\npeacocks, turkeys, cranes, pelicans, and every manner of bird, thronged\nthe branches of the trees, and, with their heads and beaks sunk almost\ninto their feathers, opened and closed their eyes in their\nrapturous surprise. The lions and tigers sprawled about, wishing, in\npure shame at their habitual monstrous cruelties, that they had been\nvegetarians from the very beginning: such power had the music of\nOrpheus. Even the mad-headed monkeys and apes, sitting in rows amongst\nthe trees, thought, Good heavens! what fools they were! and, blushing at\ntheir childish tricks, wondered if it yet were possible to reform and\ntake a serious view of life. The old snake, quite overcome and\nenthralled by the delicious strains, opened wide his jaws, and allowed\nthe little missel-thrush to nestle therein, and, thus protected from the\nnight-air, to listen to the music in comfort. However, no lasting\nreformation was ever effected in their untamed natures, for no sooner\nhad the music ceased than each scurried away, once again to resume his\ndepredations and savage ways.\n\n'It happened one evening that the gnome surpassed himself by his\nrendering of some enchanting melodies, and every one was quite\nenthralled and rendered almost helpless. The birds sank their heads and\nbeaks lower and lower into their feathers, as the music proceeded, until\nthey were no longer visible. The lions and tigers rolled on their backs\nin the grass, in an agony of despair at their own unreformable lives:\nthe elephants turned quite white, and trembled so violently that they\ncould hardly support their own huge bulks and leant against one another\nto prevent themselves coming down with a crash; such a great lump had\nrisen in the throat of the giraffe as quite distorted his otherwise\ngraceful neck; while the monkeys gibbered and blubbered tearfully to\nthemselves, and the old rascal of a snake slipped right off into a\ntrance.\n\n'At last the music ceased, and the little musician left me while he went\nin to hang up his musical instrument in safety. Meanwhile, in spite of\nthe state to which they had been elevated, the absurd creatures had all\nscurried off, as usual, with no other thought in their savage minds than\nto get each his own supper at any cost. The old snake, however, did not\nrecover as quickly as the others, and when at length he awakened from\nhis trance, he could see that all the others had vanished, and that I\nwas lying on the grass, quite unprotected, the gnome not having, as yet,\nreturned to my side. \"Ha, ha!\" said he to himself, his savage nature\nhaving returned in all its force, \"what a slice of luck! By gum! I never\nsee such a beauty. Won't the youngsters be just delighted!\" He rapidly\nslithered in my direction and, quickly tying the end of his long form\nsecurely round me, slithered away again, carrying me through the long\ngrass at a bewildering speed.\n\n'After travelling in this rough fashion for some time, we at length came\nto a clearing in the heart of the wood, in which stood all that remained\nof the ancient temple, and amongst its fallen columns and walls,\novergrown as they were with wild flowers and tall grasses, the old snake\nhad made his home, where he lived in comfort with his wife and a large\nbrood of pranksome snakelets.\n\n'We were greeted by the youngsters with every mark of joy and surprise.\n\"How good of you, Henry,\" cried the mother, \"and what a really fine\nspecimen! Shall we have him to-night, or keep him for next Tuesday, my\nbirthday you know, dear?\" After a little talk it was decided that I\nshould be held over until the next Tuesday, and in the meantime I was\nplaced in the larder, and given plenty of odd scraps to eat, no doubt to\nkeep me plump and in good condition.\n\n'Tuesday came round in due course and, in order to celebrate the day in\na manner suitable to the greatness of the occasion, the old snake\ninvited all his neighbours. When I was brought out of the larder, on a\nlarge dish, roars of delight rose to the sky from the throats of the\nassembled guests, all seated round on the fallen stones of the ruined\ntemple.\n\n'The old lion was there, smacking his lips in anticipation of a nice\ncut, and the tiger's mouth was visibly watering at the prospect of such\na feast: while, as for the little snakelets, they kept up quite a\nclamour in their impatience to get at me. The monkeys, of course,\ncontributed their share to the general uproar, though they seemed more\ninclined to fasten their eyes on the filberts and almonds with which I\nwas garnished. The eagles took the whole thing very seriously and,\nflapping their great wings, screeched to the sky in their eagerness to\nbegin; and all the other guests, the giraffes, the zebras, the hippos,\nthe storks, the flamingoes, the wild cats, the pelicans, the wild geese,\nthe peacocks, the turkeys, and every thinkable animal contributing to\nthe general noise, there was such an awful din that the snake could only\nobtain silence by using the thin end of his long body as a flail on the\ndrum-like sides of the elephant. He then made a few remarks on the\nimportance of the occasion, and referred to his wife in quite a graceful\nway, for a snake; and, continuing, asked one of the guests to volunteer\nto carve. The stork, having a very convenient beak for the purpose,\nstood up and offered his services, which were gratefully accepted.\n\n'I was now placed on the grass directly in front of the carver, who was\nabout to skewer me with his long and sharp beak, when there came to our\nears from far away amongst the trees that surrounded us on every side,\nthe sweet harmonies of that lovely song \"The Pond where Herbert\nDrownded,\" played with the greatest sympathy on the concertina. At once\nthe stork turned its head in the direction whence the sound proceeded,\nand as it gradually drew nearer and nearer I became more and more\nconvinced that such music could only be produced by my friend and\nfoster-brother.\n\n'All the creatures in varying degrees were affected; the snake and his\nwife coiled themselves on the grass and gasped in rapture; the stork and\nall the birds closed their eyes, and their heads sank lower and lower\ninto their fluffy bodies, until like balls of feathers they rolled over\nand lay trembling in the grass.\n\n[Illustration: SWEEPING THE DEAD LEAVES]\n\n'The lion and tiger were so overcome that they leant their old heads on\ntheir paws and sobbed aloud, while the monkeys grew fidgety and quite\nself-conscious at first, and then abandoned themselves to the melancholy\naroused by the music.\n\n'The gnome, whom I afterwards learnt had been wandering about the wood\nplaying mournful airs on his concertina ever since he had missed me, now\ndrew near, and finishing \"The Pond where Herbert Drownded\" proceeded\nwith \"Poor Molly Dawson\" and other tunes of an equally affecting\nnature. On seeing that all were sufficiently bowled over, he struck up\nwith \"Oh, Jack, he was a Bright Spark,\" and so lively and brisk was the\nmeasure that up they all jumped and danced and danced with the greatest\nspirit.\n\n'The strangest figure of all was cut by the old snake who pirouetted on\nthe end of his tail at the greatest speed, in which weird performance he\nwas soon joined by his wife. The eagle extended his wings and waltzed\nwith the elephant; the lion and tiger spun round, holding each other by\nthe paw, so quickly that it was almost impossible to see them; the old\nturtle rolled over on the back of its shell and span like a teetotum,\nwith the silly monkeys linking hands and in one wide ring skipping\naround it; in fact, all got up and jumped and lumped and sprawled about\nin the most ridiculous fashion until they were quite out of breath.\nNevertheless, Orpheus would not let them rest, but marched off playing\nthe most exciting music, and all the infatuated creatures, quite\nforgetful of their banquet, followed him through the wood. Strange\nenough, in all conscience, was this, but how much stranger by far was it\nwhen the very stones of the ruin leapt up, and rolling over and over,\nalso followed in this odd procession as it tramped and crashed through\nthe trees.\n\n'From where I was seated on the dish I could hear the sounds of the\nmusic gradually fading away, as the musician led the noisy crew further\nand further off; the crash of the falling branches and the crackle of\nthe breaking underwood died down in the distance and I knew that I was\nsaved.\n\n[Illustration: WITH NO OTHER WEALTH THAN MY CONCERTINA]\n\n'The little gnome led the bewitched creatures such a dance through the\nwood that one by one they fell down in a state of collapse, and when the\nlast was quite overcome, the faithful fellow returned to the temple and\ncarried me home.\n\n'Never again did they leave me alone for a single second until I was\nable to take care of myself, and I spent the years of my boyhood in\ngreat happiness with these two simple and kindly souls. Brother Orpheus\ntook no end of pains in teaching me to play the concertina and, eager\nto learn, I soon became proficient. But, dear lads, clever as you know\nme to be, never could I even approach the skill of my good and patient\nmaster.\n\n'In the course of time the old witch had to die, and the grief of her\nlittle foster son was so great at his loss that, try as I would, I could\nnot in any way lighten it. One day soon after I missed the little man,\nand he never returned again. All that he left behind him for me to\nremember him by was his old concertina.\n\n'I waited by the tree for many a long day, still thinking that he would\nreturn, until I was compelled at last to abandon all hope of ever seeing\nhim again. I wandered out into the world with no other wealth than my\nconcertina, but how often since have I had to bless the memory of my\nlittle friend who thus endowed me with the means of subsistence, and, at\nthe same time, with a protection against all manner of evil.'\n\n[Illustration: tailpiece]\n\n * * * * *\n\n[Illustration: THE LOST GROCER]\n\n[Illustration: headpiece]\n\n\n\n\nTHE LOST GROCER\n\n\nFor many and many a weary mile the persevering little band had now\ntrudged on without meeting with any adventure worth relating, and every\none was longing for the end of their travels, when one lovely evening\nthey came across a good-natured-looking policeman, fast asleep on a\nstile by the roadside. The tramp, tramp of the army awakened him, and\nwith a gentle smile he got off his perch and walked alongside the King.\nCharmed with his easy manner, the King jokingly asked him of what he had\nbeen dreaming that he smiled so pleasantly. 'Oh, of old times and old\nfriends,' the policeman replied, and then as he walked along he thus\nrelated the strangest of experiences:--\n\n'Many years ago it was my happy lot to be the principal policeman of\nthe pleasant little town of Troutpeg, situated, as you know, on the\nbanks of the river Peg, just where it flows into the estuary of the\nDrip, that here broadens into that well-known land-locked harbour of the\nsame name, and thus finally finds its way to the sea. Nestling amongst\nits stone-capped hills, the happy place seemed designed by a kind nature\nas a retreat for all who were blithe and amiable, and such indeed it\nproved to be, for no more kindly and genial souls than the Troutpegsters\ncould be found. Their simplicity was delightful, though perhaps such as\nto incline them all the more readily to believe in the wild legends of\nthe country-side. Many were the strange stories told by the shepherds,\nwho tended their flocks on the hills at night, of wild rites, and\nuncouth dances performed by ghostly beings, in the light of the moon,\namidst the ancient circles of Druid stones. Little else, however, was\nthere to disturb the peaceful thoughts of the Troutpegsters.\n\n'The prosperity of the township was so great, and the comfort of each of\nits inhabitants so well assured that for many years no wickedness of any\nkind had shown its head, and the life of a policeman in this happy and\nsecluded town was one long summer holiday. To be sure, a little skirmish\nhere and there amongst the lads might make it wise gently to exert my\nauthority, or a little quarrel amongst the girls call forth a slight\nrebuke, but otherwise my life was one of unbroken peace.\n\n'My dearest friend was the tea-grocer, a man of sad and dreamy ways and\nquite devoid of guile, who returned my affection with all the ardour of\na singularly loving nature. He shared his every joy with me, and when\nhis holidays came round no greater recreation could he find than in my\nsociety. Walking by my side as I strolled along my beat, he would\nconfide to me his simple hopes and fears, and in his troubles seek my\nreadily extended sympathy. Such simplicity and inoffensive mien had he\nas brought to him a rich harvest of respect and love, together with the\ncustom of his fellow-townsmen.\n\n'In time his little store became quite an evening resort for those older\ntownsmen who, no longer able to race about the green when work was done,\nwould perhaps look in to purchase half a pound of coffee or tea, or\nsugar or salt for the good wife, and stay chatting with the amiable\ngrocer. Then maybe one would look in to buy an ounce of tobacco, or the\nexcellent snuff for which the grocer was far famed, and so on and so on\nuntil the shop was full. Seated around on the tea-chests, coffee bins,\ntobacco boxes and snuff tins, many a pleasant evening have we spent,\nenlivened by good-natured arguments and discussions on every conceivable\nsubject.\n\n'One sultry summer's afternoon, as I was standing thinking in the\ncobbled high-street, the quiet of the still warm day disturbed only by\nthe gentle breathing of the shopmen as they dozed amongst their wares,\nor the distant bleating of the sheep as they browsed in and out the\nrocks and Druid stones capping the surrounding hills, the comforting\nremembrance came to me of many a refreshing cup of tea partaken with the\ngrocer in the snug little parlour behind his shop. With hardly a thought\nof what I was about, I allowed my idle steps gently to stray towards the\nhomely store of my friend. Entering therein, and finding that he was\naway from home, I sat me down upon the little chair, so thoughtfully\nprovided for weary customers, and with my head supported by the counter,\nresumed my broken train of thought until, completely overcome by a sense\nof drowsy comfort, I feel asleep.\n\n'I was suddenly awakened by the church clock striking eight, and found\nthat all the town was wrapped in slumber and that the grocer had not yet\nreturned. Wondering what on earth could keep him away so late, and\nhoping that no harm had overtaken him, I stiffly arose from my seat,\nstretched myself, and betook me to my home and bed.\n\n'On the following morning my first thought was for my friend, and on\nlearning that he had not returned during the night, I called in turn on\neach of his neighbours,--the doctor, the vicar, the solicitor, the\npostman, and the corn-chandler, and many another equally interested in\nhis movements. Not one, however, had seen him since the previous day,\nand all showed the liveliest concern and anxiety at his mysterious\nabsence.\n\n'Night followed day, and day again followed night, with no sign of the\nvanished grocer. Weeks now passed by, and grief took possession of the\nlittle town at the loss of one who was missed at every turn. Hoping that\neven yet he might return, we kept his shop still open for him, and the\nlittle birds, encouraged by the silence, flew in and out and nested in\nthe scales and amongst the stores, glutting their fluffy little bodies\nwith the sugar-plums, the currants, the herbs and spices that everywhere\nabounded. And even the swallows, so much entertainment did they find\ntherein, forgot, as the summer drew to its close, to fly away,\npreferring much to sleep the winter through in comfort.\n\n'But alas! months, and years and years and years rolled by, and the\ngrocer never returned, and in time little enough thought was given to\none who had, at one time, been held in such esteem by all. But we, the\nolder Troutpegsters, still thought at times of our vanished friend, and\nmany were the theories we suggested to account for his disappearance.\n\n'One held that he had been beguiled by gypsies, another that he had been\nstolen to be exhibited as a rare model of virtue in some distant clime,\nwhile others believed that the fairies, envious of our happiness in\npossessing such a friend, had taken him from our midst; but all agreed\nthat we should have guarded our treasure with greater care.\n\n'One never-to-be-forgotten evening the doctor, the solicitor, the\nvicar, the corn-chandler, and myself (some of us already stricken in\nyears) were seated, as was now our evening custom, upon the rustic\nbridge that carries the road across the river Peg. The fragrant smoke of\nour long pipes rising to the evening sky, our conversation, as was now\nso frequently the case, had drifted from politics, sport, fashions and\nthe latest police intelligence to lovingly-recalled memories of our\nlong-lost friend, and so sad did we become that lumps as large as egg\nplums rose to our throats, and our eyes brimmed over with tears.\n\n[Illustration: AFFECTED BY HIS STORY]\n\n'Drying our eyes we now smoked on in silent contemplation of the past;\nthe night gradually drew down, and the first star appeared in the\ncloudless sky when there came to us the sound of a distant footstep,\ncoming along the road towards the town, and presently a strange figure\nhove in sight,--an old, old man, with long tangled grey hair and shaggy\nbeard, clothed in the most pitiable rags, torn, and held together with\nstraw and odd pieces of string. He passed slowly across the bridge,\nleaning heavily on his staff, and limped with difficulty towards the\ntown, into which with one accord we followed him.\n\n[Illustration: PLUMP INTO THE RIVER WE WENT]\n\n'Down the cobbled high street he walked until he came to the shop of the\nvanished grocer into which he turned without any hesitation. Wondering\nwhat business could take him there, we all hastened to the door of the\nshop, and there, with the utmost astonishment, beheld the stranger\nremove his threadbare coat, and replace it with the grocer's moth-eaten\napron that had hung for so long from a peg on the door; then he\ncommenced dusting the shop and putting it straight. As I gazed, my\nastonishment gave place to the most incredulous amazement when I\ndetected in the old man a fancied likeness to the departed grocer. At\nlast, after closer scrutiny, I was convinced that it was indeed no other\nthan my friend actually returned after all these years, and as he at the\nsame time more easily recognised me, we fell into each other's arms, and\nwho shall describe the extravagance of our joy?\n\n'In a little while, when we had calmed down, we all retired to the\nlittle parlour behind the shop, and our good friend brewed us a cup of\ntea as of old, and after a little gentle persuasion related to us the\nfollowing strange story of his disappearance:--\n\n'\"On that memorable summer afternoon, many years ago, as I was weighing\nout the sugar into pound and half-pound packets (which, as you may\nremember, was my rule at that time of day to prepare for the evening\ntrade), a strange old gentleman, clothed in the deepest black from cap\nto slippers, yet withal possessed of the most snowy ringlets and beard,\nentered my shop and begged of me some food for his family, assuring me\nthat they were all slowly dying of starvation.\n\n'\"Affected by his story, I was making up for him a parcel containing\nlentils, raisins, dates, figs, sugar, and other goods which I thought\nmight be acceptable, when, to my astonishment, the ungrateful old rascal\nsnatched up a large tin of the finest snuff, which you will remember I\nused to sell in great quantities, and bolted with it out of the shop.\n\n'\"Without a moment's hesitation I divested myself of my apron, and\ndonning my coat, followed him at the greatest speed. Away he ran down\nthe high street towards the bridge, which he very soon crossed, and now\nalong the river bends he sped, with me close at his heels. For miles we\nran, even as far as the source of the river Peg, which we doubled and\ncame tearing down the other side. I now perceived that, in spite of his\nage, he ran almost quicker than I did. Presently into the river he\nplunged, I following close, and then he retraced his steps towards its\nsource. Once more plump into the river we went, and as I scrambled up\nthe opposite bank I noticed to my dismay that, while I grew more tired\nand out of breath as we ran, he became brisker and fresher. Discarding\nhis hat, cloak, and slippers, though still holding on to the snuff tin,\nhe now appeared in robes of dazzling white, which, with his hair and\nlong white beard, flowed behind him as he ran, and gradually increased\nthe distance between us.\n\n[Illustration: Followed him at the greatest speed]\n\n'\"Soon I could perceive that he was making for the hill above the town\nwhich, with no difficulty at all, he mounted long before I had reached\nits foot, and when at last I struggled to the top the old rogue was\nseated upon one of the Druid stones that here in one great circle crown\nthe hill, smiling, and hugging to himself the while the tin of snuff. On\nseeing me again, he soon jumped down, and I dodged him in and out\nof the stones for at least three hours by the church clock, and then\nweary and utterly dejected I sat me down on a stone in the centre of the\nring and wept bitterly. Directly beneath me I could see, through my\ntears, the lights of our little town shine out here and there from the\ngathering darkness, while over the hills, away to my left, the edge of\nthe full red moon began to show. As higher and higher it climbed the\nsky, one by one there leapt from the earth beneath each stone an aged\nDruid all clothed in white, with long waving grey locks and beard, and\ncrowned with garlands of oak leaves, holly, laurels, and mistletoe. When\nthe circle of Druids was quite complete the old rascal who had lured me\nfrom my shop, and who now appeared to be their chief, stepped towards\nme, now far too bewildered and astounded to resist, and solemnly placed\nupon my brow a wreath of wild violets. Then separately, each of the\nDruids came forward with some offering which he placed before me,\nafterwards returning to his place in the circle, so that presently there\ngrew upon the grass in front of me a great mound of vegetables, fruit,\nflowers, haunches of venison, fowls, hares, rabbits, and young lambs. At\nlength, every Druid having made his offering, their chief handed round\nthe tin of snuff from which each old fellow took a large pinch, and\nthen, linking hands, they danced wildly round me.\n\n[Illustration: THERE GREW IN FRONT OF ME A GREAT MOUND]\n\n'\"In utter silence, by the light of the moon, now high in the sky, these\nsolemn rites were performed, and still without a sound they whirled\nquicker and quicker around me, their feet hardly seeming to touch the\nground, and their long loose garments streaming after them as they flew.\n\n'\"Presently the distant chime of the church clock striking twelve\nreached me from the town below and I gradually fell into a trance, as\none by one the old Druids sank into the earth beneath the stones.\n\n'\"Every day since then until to-day have I passed in complete oblivion,\nand every night have I awakened to find myself seated on the stone in\nthe centre of the ring of Druids, with all the power of resistance taken\nfrom me, compelled to be the object of their weird rites.\n\n[Illustration: SNEEZING AND SNEEZING]\n\n'\"Last night, however, just as the church clock began to strike twelve,\nsuch a rush of memories flooded my brain, and such a longing to see my\nold home and friends took possession of me, that a terrible rage at the\ncruel tyranny of the Druids had gathered in my bosom before the clock\nhad finished striking the hour. When it was about to strike the last\nbeat, I arose from my seat in the centre of the circle and approaching\nthe wicked old chief, I snatched the snuff tin from his hands and\nclapped it, snuff and all, right down over his eyes. Strange to say the\ncontents of the tin had not diminished by so much as a single pinch, and\nsuch a fit of sneezing seized the old scoundrel that he rolled on the\ngrass in the greatest distress, quite unable to put the usual spell upon\nme. All the other Druids, with abject terror expressed on their faces,\nsank at once into the ground. The form of the head Druid, sneezing and\nsneezing and sneezing, gradually faded away before my eyes, and long\nafter he had completely disappeared the sneezing could still be heard.\nEventually this died away, and pulling my clothes together as best I\ncould (for by now they were all in rags), I made the best of my way\nhome.\"\n\n'Having finished his story the grocer now became very thoughtful, and we\nall sat round his little room smoking in silence until far into the\nnight, wondering at the strange events he had related. Next day, and for\na whole week, great festivities were held to celebrate his return, and\nthe Mayor very willingly resigned his office in favour of one who was\nheld in such esteem. Innumerable presentations were made to him and\naddresses read to him, yet, in spite of all the honours he received,\nnever did he forget his old friends. Nor was he too proud to serve in\nhis little shop, now enlivened by the songs of the birds he had not the\nheart to turn away. He spent the remainder of his useful life in the\nperformance of kind deeds and in well-deserved happiness.'\n\n * * * * *\n\n[Illustration: THE MERCHANT'S WIFE AND THE MERCHANT]\n\n[Illustration: headpiece]\n\n\n\n\nTHE MERCHANT'S WIFE AND THE MERCHANT\n\n\n'Very, very good, indeed,' the King remarked when the policeman had\nfinished his story, and he was so pleased that he gave all the\nyoungsters a half-holiday, with strict injunctions to be back in time\nfor tea.\n\nAt tea-time they all came skipping back, bringing with them a little old\nman they had found, apparently lost, and moping about the common. He\ncarried in front of him a pedlar's tray, on which were exposed for sale\nmany little oddments, such as reels of cotton, needles, pins, ribbons,\nand even little toys, which he now hawked round amongst the assembled\ncompany. As many as were able bought some small thing or other out of\nkindness to the little merchant, and the good-natured old monarch\ninvited him to tea.\n\nWhile they were all enjoying this meal, they were disturbed by a great\nnoise, very much like the galloping of a horse, and suddenly, without\nany warning, right into their midst there leapt a very large woman, who\nimmediately seized upon the little merchant, and attempted to drag him\naway. Bill at once went to the assistance of the little fellow, and\nendeavoured to pacify his assailant. At length the irate creature calmed\ndown, and addressing the company in an aggrieved tone, said:--'It's all\nvery well for you people to stand up for this wicked man, but not one of\nyou knows the dance the little wretch has led me for the last fifteen\nyears.'\n\n'Of course,' the King answered, 'it is hardly to be expected that we\nshould know anything of either of you, considering that this is the very\nfirst time we have had the pleasure of meeting you. Perhaps you will be\nso kind as to enlighten us, and explain to us your strange conduct.'\n\nThe large woman now sat down upon the grass and said:--'Well, I suppose\nI had better do so. Give me a cup of tea, and I'll let you know all\nthere is to know.'\n\nA cup of tea was accordingly handed to her, from which she took a sip,\nand then proceeded thus:--\n\n'About fifteen years ago I was so unfortunate as to wed this poor\nspecimen of a man you see before you, and we had not set up house\ntogether very long before I could see that he wanted thoroughly looking\nafter, and, indeed, that he could hardly be allowed out by himself. Now\nthis was very awkward, as his business required that he should be out\nall day, so I proposed to accompany him on his rounds. Holding him\nsecurely fastened to the end of a long cord, I never let him out of my\nsight for more than a minute at a time, and so kept him from mischief.\nAfter a year or so, however, this grew rather tiresome for me, as I had\nto neglect my household duties in attending upon my husband, and, in the\nend, was compelled to let him out again alone.\n\n[Illustration: Bringing with them a little old man]\n\n'But you may be sure I did not do this until I had laid down certain\nfixed rules for his behaviour, which I made him promise to obey. Amongst\nthese, one was that he should start from home not a minute earlier and\nnot a minute later than eight o'clock in the morning; another was, that\nif he returned either a minute earlier or a minute later than eight\no'clock in the evening, he should go supperless to bed. And, would\nyou believe me, in spite of all my care, he would sometimes return\nearlier and, as I learnt afterwards, remain outside until the clock\nstruck eight, when he would creep in as though he had only just\nreturned?\n\n'But my great trouble only began a few weeks ago, when, one evening,\nhaving cooked his nightly turnip, I waited patiently for my good man's\nreturn. At length the clock struck eight, and, to my surprise, it was\nnot immediately followed by my husband's timid knock. One minute passed;\ntwo minutes passed; three minutes passed; four minutes passed; and, on\nthe fifth minute, there was a low knock at the door, and in crept the\nmiserable man, and cowered to his place. But, as you may suppose, there\nwas no turnip for him _that_ night, until he had given a satisfactory\nexplanation of his late return. The only excuse the frightened little\nruffian had to offer was, that he had dropped a needle on the road, and\nhad to return for it. So he went supperless to bed.\n\n'The next evening, having warmed up the old turnip, I again awaited his\nreturn. Eight o'clock struck, and, to my even greater surprise, it was\nnot followed by the merchant's knock, and this time it was six minutes\npast before he entered, and with no better excuse for his late arrival\nthan that he had dropped a reel of cotton on the road, and had to return\nfor it. \"Let this be a lesson to you, my man,\" said I, as I once more\nput away the turnip, which he had been regarding with longing eyes, and\nsent him to bed.\n\n'For the third time, on the following evening, I warmed up the turnip,\nfeeling convinced that after the severe lesson he had received, my\nmerchant would not again serve me such a trick. But eight o'clock\nstruck, and then one minute passed; then two, three, four, five, six,\nseven, eight, nine, and as the minute-hand pointed to the ten, he\ncrawled in on hands and knees, not daring to raise his eyes from the\nground. And then I told him what I thought of his conduct.\n\n[Illustration: MOPING ABOUT THE COMMON]\n\n'Without waiting to hear a word of explanation, I now locked him in a\ncupboard beneath the stairs, put the turnip away, and went to bed. In\nthe morning I let him out, but of course gave him no breakfast, and in\ndue time he took his tray of goods, and left the house without a word.\nHardly had he departed three minutes, when I hastily donned my bonnet\nand shawl, and followed him, determined to learn, if possible, what had\ndelayed him on the three previous evenings. Keeping at a safe distance,\nI followed him all over the town, but nothing unusual happened. He\ncalled at every house, displaying his wares to any one likely to buy;\nselling a ribbon here, perhaps some pins or needles there, but his\nconduct, on the whole, seemed harmless enough. At length the day passed\nby, and the merchant started homewards; but he had not moved many paces,\nwhen he came to a stop, and seemed to debate in his mind whether he\nshould return or not. Then, looking up and down the road, and seeing no\none watching him, he suddenly took to his heels, and ran as hard as he\ncould in the opposite direction. I lost no time in climbing over the\nwall, behind which I had been hiding, and quickly followed him. Out of\nthe town the villain ran as swiftly as he could go, and I followed as\nclose as possible, without being seen by him, and was only just in time\nto see the rogue climb into an old barrel that was standing, end up, in\na field near the roadway. \"Now,\" thought I, \"I've got you in a trap, my\nfine fellow,\" and I ran up to the barrel. I could hardly believe the\nevidence of my eyes when I found it to be quite empty. Amazed beyond\nmeasure, I at last turned my steps towards home.\n\n'On arriving home, I found that my husband had not returned, and it was\nfully twenty minutes past eight when at last he appeared, but I was so\nastonished that I could not say a word to the little rascal, and once\nmore he went supperless to bed.\n\n'For four more days I followed the little man without approaching a\nsolution to this riddle. Each day he would go about his business in the\nusual manner and, in the evening, he would run to the barrel, into which\nhe would speedily disappear. He came home later and later every night,\nuntil I could stand this state of things no longer; and, on the sixth\nday I determined never to return until I had satisfactorily cleared up\nthis mystery. This time, instead of following my merchant through the\ntown, I went direct to the barrel, and, hiding myself behind a bush near\nby, prepared to wait there all day and see what happened.\n\n'I had not made myself comfortable many minutes before I saw two old men\ncoming along the road from the town; so old were they indeed, that they\ncould only creep along by leaning one against the other. Right up to the\nbarrel they crawled, and then, to my surprise, they scrambled over its\nsides and disappeared. Presently two more just as old and decrepit came\nalong and disappeared in the same way. Now three more came, then two\nagain, and then only one, all as old and wretched as could be, and each\none crawled into the barrel and vanished. This went on for some time\nwhen, unable to restrain my curiosity and wondering why on earth the\nbarrel didn't become full, I hurriedly left my hiding-place and looked\ntherein, to find that it yet remained quite empty. I had barely time\nenough to regain my hiding-place when more and more old men came along\nthe road and disappeared into the barrel.\n\n'This went on all day, and when the evening drew near, I could see my\nlittle man approaching from the town. As I expected, he walked straight\nup to the barrel, and in a twinkling had vanished inside. Without giving\nmyself a moment to think, I once more left my hiding-place and climbed\ninto the mysterious old tub. It was certainly rather a tight fit, but I\nmanaged to get in somehow or other. Presently I was astonished and\nalarmed to find that the bottom of the barrel, which I had imagined to\nrest on the earth, began to give way and open like a trap-door, and I\nfelt myself sinking lower and lower, down a sort of well. The next\nthing, I found myself at the bottom of the well, and at the mouth of a\ntunnel so narrow and low that I could only go through it on my hands and\nknees. This, however, I proceeded to do, and found that it opened into a\ngreat chamber cut out of the solid rock.\n\n'Not daring to enter, I gazed into this strange place, which was lighted\nwith many candles all affixed to the rocky walls with their own tallow.\nOn the centre of the floor was piled a great heap of children's\ntoys,--tin trumpets, wooden horses, drums, hoops, skipping-ropes,\nrocking-horses, peg-tops, in fact, every conceivable toy that a sensible\nchild could wish for. Around this great heap, instead of children, sat\nall the poor miserable old men I had seen enter the barrel, and amongst\nthem I now perceived my husband, who certainly seemed no happier than\nthe rest. Securely hidden in the narrow passage from every one in the\nroom, I could now watch all that took place, in the greatest comfort.\n\n'Not a word was said by any of the decrepit creatures as they stared\nabsently at the toys in the middle of the room. Presently one whom I\ntook to be their host, as I had not seen him enter the barrel, took from\na peg on the wall, from which it had been suspended by a piece of\nstring, an old bent tin pipe and proceeded to play. At once the wrinkled\nfaces of the poor old fellows began to brighten up, and as the music\ngrew more lively, they rocked their withered frames to and fro to the\ntunes. Soon, one by one, they stood upon their feet, and seeming to lose\ntheir old age as the music every moment became more enchanting, they\nforgot their feebleness and danced gaily about the room.\n\n'Younger and younger they grew, until my husband appeared to be such a\ndapper and bright little man that I could not prevent myself from\nleaving my hiding-place and going up to him and clasping him round the\nwaist. Not a bit surprised did he seem to see me there, and as we\ndanced merrily up and down the room, to my great joy and astonishment, I\nfelt myself growing younger every moment, whilst the rest of the\ncompany, now all transformed to fine young men, danced in one circle\nround us, as handsome a couple as you would wish to see.\n\n[Illustration: KEPT HIM OUT OF MISCHIEF]\n\n'Still the magical music continued, and if anything grew more and more\nenchanting as we grew younger and younger, until we seemed to be\nfrolicsome boys and girls once more. At last we found ourselves to be a\ncrowd of little toddling children, and, my word! how we grabbed at the\ngreat heap of toys placed there for our amusement, and what a time we\nhad to be sure!\n\n[Illustration: GLORIOUS TARTS AND SWEETS]\n\n'Under the great heap of toys, we discovered the most glorious tarts,\npastries, cakes and sweets, and it didn't seem to matter how much you\nate of them, for you never lost your appetite for more. At last, alas!\nthe wonderful music quieted down, and by degrees we once more lost our\nchildhood, then our youth, and, when the music suddenly stopped, we all\nreturned to our old selves again, and fell flat on our faces quite tired\nout, while our host hung up his old tin pipe on its peg in the wall.\n\n'When we had all somewhat recovered, I fixed my eye upon my husband.\n\"Now,\" thought I, \"I've got you. This is how you waste your time, is it?\nAnd why you come home late for supper.\" The conscience-stricken\ncreature trembled before my gaze, and then made a rush for the door. All\nmade way for him, but I quickly followed through the tunnel and mounted\na ladder which led to the trap-door at the bottom of the barrel, out of\nwhich I climbed, but only in time to see the rascal disappear into the\ntown. I then made the best of my way home.\n\n[Illustration: IT DIDN'T MATTER HOW MUCH YOU ATE]\n\n'He had not returned when I arrived, so I waited three whole days and\nnights, prepared to make the unnatural man feel to the full my\nresentment at his shameful conduct. On the fourth day, as he had not\ncome home, I went back to the tub, and not seeing any sign of him, I\ngave a kick to the old thing and sent it rolling over and over on its\nside. Would you believe me, there was not the slightest trace of any\npassage or well ever having existed beneath it. Since then I have\nwandered all over the country in search of this ungrateful wretch.' And\nthe indignant woman, having finished her story, once more attempted to\ndrag the affrighted little merchant away. Bill again intervened, and\nafter a few very kind words, successfully persuaded her to allow her\nhusband to remain with them, at the same time inviting her to make one\nof their brave band.\n\nThis she only consented to do on condition that the policeman also never\nleft them, 'as you never know,' said she, 'what the little wretch will\nbe up to next.'\n\nThe policeman having no objection to fall in with her wishes, they all\nmarched on in peace.\n\n[Illustration: tailpiece]\n\n * * * * *\n\n[Illustration: THE CAMP-FOLLOWERS]\n\n[Illustration: headpiece]\n\n\n\n\nTHE CAMP-FOLLOWERS\n\n\nTime was now getting on, and the fidgety old King, weary of being\nconstantly on the move, became more and more impatient to reach his\njourney's end. For many days they had been crossing the great desert,\nand were fast approaching the further side when, one evening, the\naggravating old fellow decided that they should march on right through\nthe night. In vain did Bill point out to him how tired they all were;\nthe old King would not even listen to him, so, whether they liked it or\nnot, they had to jog on.\n\nWearily they trudged along, and towards morning they came upon a great\nstone sphinx, in the arms of which there nestled a company of little\nchildren, every one of whom was fast asleep. Presently, as the sun rose\nand shone under the lids of their eyes, they, one by one, awakened, and\nstared in mute astonishment at the dusty figures before them. Assuring\nthem that they had nothing to fear at their hands, Bill, with the King's\npermission, invited them all to breakfast. Seated in a great circle on\nthe sands, beneath the old sphinx, every one did his utmost to make the\nstrangers comfortable and to remove their natural shyness; and, in a\nlittle while, it was a very jovial party that sat demolishing the\nsubstantial breakfast prepared for them. Many songs were sung and\nstories told by Bill and his comrades, and presently one of the little\nfellows, who appeared to be the youngest of their new friends, stood up\nand related the following story:--\n\n'We are all brothers and sisters, and lived, until yesterday, with our\ngood parents upon a sandbank in the mouth of the river Blim which, as\nyou know, is one of the smaller tributaries of the river Nile. Our\nfather was a fisherman, and upon the only spot on the bank which\nremained invariably high and dry, the clever man had erected a shed\nwhich served us for home, and which, at least, protected us from the\nshowers of spray blown from the rough seas, and the chill winds that\nblew across the neighbouring marshes, as well as the cold rains that, in\nthe fall of the year, flooded the adjacent country for miles around. A\ndozen stout beams, that had been cast up by the waves, served, each with\none end deeply embedded in the wet sand, as a framework for our humble\nmansion. These were covered over with numerous skins of fish and pieces\nof old rag, all neatly stitched together by our industrious mother, or\npinned by fish-bones skilfully sharpened by grinding their ends between\ntwo stones. Our good dad's stock-in-trade consisted of one long piece of\nfrayed string, with a sharpened fishbone, bent in the form of a hook,\nfastened at one end, a small boat and a paddle, the former of which he\nhad skilfully fashioned out of an old basket that had been washed\nashore, and over which he had stretched more of the rags and fish-skins,\nof which we always possessed a goodly supply saved over from our meals.\n\n[Illustration: They came upon a great stone sphinx]\n\n'During the long winter months we were entirely cut off from our fellow\ncreatures by the floods and the terrible storms at sea, and were\ncompelled to subsist entirely upon our own resources; and thus we\nlearnt, after many a bitter trial, to make almost everything we required\nfrom the spoils brought home by our hard-working father. The flesh\nof the fish, of course, served us for meat, either fresh or pickled in\nbrine, and then dried in the sun. The roes, prepared in the same way,\nwere our only delicacies, and, by an indulgence in these, we used to\ncelebrate our many birthdays. Fish dripping we had in plenty, and the\nbones were dried and ground between two rocks, making the finest flour\nfor bread and pies. The tails and fins were always saved, and, after a\nsimple drying process, made excellent fuel, easily set alight with\nsparks kindled by knocking two stones sharply together. A fine black ash\nwas left from fires kindled in this way, which, mixed with a little\nsea-water, made one of the purest inks. The good dad always encouraged\nus to make notes on the smooth white skins of the young dab, bleached\nand dried in the sun, explaining how useful they would be to us in\nafter-life, and showed us how to cut pens from the larger bones of the\nfish. The only parts which the unselfish man reserved for himself were\nthe eyes which, when dried, were his only substitute for tobacco in that\nlone part of the world, and which he smoked in a pipe most beautifully\ncarved by himself, from the spine of an old cod.\n\n'The heads of the fish served the younger children for bricks, or even,\nafter a little trimming, for dolls, with which they amused themselves\nduring the long winter evenings. Many another device had we whereby we\nmade the most of our very small opportunities, but you will readily see\nhow dependent we were for everything upon the good fortune and\nresources of our father, without whom we should all very quickly have\nperished.\n\n'For many days and nights at a time our good dad would remain upon the\nsea, returning sometimes with a good supply of fish; at other times,\nalas! with only one or two little dabs, or even with nothing at all.\nYet, by dint of saving up for a rainy day, when we had more than enough\nfor our present needs, we managed to jog along fairly comfortably. One\nsad winter's evening, however, our good parent returned, having caught\nnothing but a very small dab and a very severe cold. Our anxious mother,\nin a state of alarm, lit a great fire and, after making him take a bowl\nof steaming fish gruel, with his feet at the same time in a bath of hot\nsea-water, she sent him to bed, and covered him up with as many fish\nskins as she could spare from the house. The next day he was decidedly\nworse, and our anxiety increased day by day as he showed no signs of\nimprovement. Very soon, with no one to replenish our larder, our stores\nbegan to run low, and starvation stared us in the face.\n\n'At last one morning the invalid called our eldest brother to him and\nsaid to him:--\"Son, our stores are all eaten up, and unless we obtain\nfood by to-morrow morning we shall all surely die, so take my boat and\nfishing-line and see what luck will attend you.\" With tears in his eyes,\nthe good-hearted boy left the house and very soon embarked.\n\n[Illustration: THE HEADS SERVED FOR DOLLS]\n\n'Having paddled some way out to sea, he threw his line, and fished and\nfished. After a little while he drew it in again to find, alas! that he\nhad caught nothing. For the second time he cast his line, and fished and\nfished and fished, but on again pulling in the line he found that he had\nno better luck. He now for the third time threw out his line, and fished\nand fished and fished and fished, yet no better fortune attended him;\nso, bitterly disappointed, he wound up the tackle and paddled home.\n\n'Sorrowfully the unhappy father heard of his eldest son's want of\nsuccess, and then sent for his second eldest son, and requested him to\nsee if fortune would be kinder to him than it had been to his brother.\nBut, alas! he returned likewise without even so much as a whitebait.\nThen, one after the other, he sent all his sons except myself, who am\nthe youngest of all, but not a little piece of luck awaited any of them.\nThe wretched man now called me to him and said:--\"Son, hitherto I have\nbeen reluctant to send one so young upon such an errand, but,\nalack-a-day! you are now our only hope; unless good fortune waits upon\nyou we shall all perish.\"\n\n[Illustration: YOU ARE NOW OUR ONLY HOPE]\n\n'After comforting him as much as I could, and assuring him that I would\ndo my best, I hastened down to the shore and embarked in the little\nboat. I paddled a good way out to sea until I came to a suitable\nfishing-ground, and then threw out my line. I fished and fished and\nfished and fished, and on drawing in my line found nothing on the hook\nexcept the bait, a wretched piece of dried fish skin, which looked very\ndraggled as it rose from the water. \"Better luck next time,\" thought I,\nas I threw my line for the second time, and fished and fished and fished\nand fished and fished. Yet, on pulling up the line, I found to my dismay\nthat instead of better luck I had even worse, if that were possible, for\nthe wretched bait had vanished from the hook. \"Once more,\" thought I, as\nI dropped my line overboard for the third time, \"and, fish or no fish, I\nmust give it up, even though we all die of starvation.\" So I fished and\nfished and fished and fished and fished with all my might, and when at\nlength I had hauled it in you may imagine my distress when I discovered\nthat not merely was there no fish upon the line, but that the hook\nitself had disappeared. With tears of rage and disappointment I now gave\nit up and prepared to return, but I had not gone very far when I\nthought, \"Shall I have just one more try even without hook or bait?\" And\nnot giving myself any time to think about it, I hurled my line out for\nthe fourth time and fished and fished and fished and fished and fished\nand fished and fished as hard as I could, when fancying that I felt a\nnibble, I hauled it in as quickly as possible and found an old\nsardine-tin which had become entangled in the line.\n\n'Hastily opening the tin, all I found therein was the head of an old\nsprat. \"Alas!\" said I to myself, \"is this, after all my troubles, the\nonly food I can take to my suffering father and hungering mother and\nbrothers and sisters; better it would have been had we never been\nborn!\" and the tears streamed down my face.\n\n'As I bent low over my miserable catch a great shadow passed across the\nboat and suddenly looking up, I beheld a beautiful albatross sailing in\nthe sky above me. No sooner did the graceful creature catch sight of the\nhead of the sprat than it swooped down upon the tin that contained it,\nsnatching it from my hands, and flew off with it as speedily as\npossible. Now it happened I had not let go my hold on the line, the\nother end of which was still fastened to the tin, so that in a very few\nminutes I felt myself lifted bodily up and whirled through the air and\nout to sea at a great speed. Dangling many feet beneath the great bird,\non and on I was carried over the tops of the waves, in the greatest\nanxiety lest the marauding fowl should take a lower flight, in which\ncase I should inevitably have been plunged into the sea and drowned.\n\n'How many miles we travelled thus it would be impossible for me to tell,\nbut at length my arms grew tired of holding on and supporting my weight,\nand I began to fear every moment that I should slip off into the sea,\nwhen I beheld a fishing-boat in the distance, right in our course.\nHoping that we should reach it before my strength gave out I anxiously\nwatched the vessel as we gradually drew near. At last I found myself\ndirectly over the boat, and shutting my eyes, I let go my hold on the\nline, and dropped down right on to a pile of fish in the middle of the\ndeck, sending them flying in all directions amongst the astonished\nfisherman.\n\n[Illustration: I FISHED AND FISHED AND FISHED]\n\n'My remarkable appearance amongst them had the most astonishing effect\nupon the fishermen. They one and all leapt into the sea, and\nnotwithstanding my endeavours to entice them back to the boat, and to\nexplain to them my sudden descent upon their vessel, the affrighted\ncreatures swam off to the distant shore, which, let us hope, they\nreached in safety.\n\n'Looking around me I now discovered, to my great joy, that the boat was\nfull of the finest fish, so, seizing the oars, I turned her head towards\nhome, where I arrived with my prize on the following morning, after a\nhard night's work, rowing the heavily-laden craft to shore.\n\n'The rejoicings were great, as you may well imagine, when my good\nparents and brothers and sisters beheld me again, for all had given me\nup for lost, our old boat having been washed ashore the previous\nevening. A great meal of fish was prepared as soon as possible, at which\nwe all ate heartily after so long a fast, and the old gentleman's\ncondition was greatly improved by the meal.\n\n'Long before the large supply of food had been consumed, the good living\nand comfort had restored our dad's health, and he was able to resume his\nfishing. Being now so much better equipped with the fine boat in which I\nhad returned, and with the splendid tackle we discovered therein, good\nluck always attended his fishing and we never wanted any more.\n\n'In the course of time it became necessary that their children should\nall leave them and seek their fortunes, and only yesterday morning, with\nmany tears, we bade adieu to our kind-hearted parents and started on our\njourney.'\n\nThe young strangers were now all thoroughly refreshed by their\nbreakfast, and learning the nature of the campaign upon which the King\nand his army were engaged, willingly offered their assistance as\ncamp-followers, or in any other way that they might be useful. The King\nvery gratefully accepted their services, and before resuming the march\nthe whole army went out of their way and visited the kindly fisherman.\nThe King was pleased to confer many honours on the old fellow, and,\nbefore leaving him, promised to look after his numerous family, and in\nthe future to provide for all their wants.\n\n[Illustration: tailpiece]\n\n[Illustration: vignette]\n\n * * * * *\n\n[Illustration: THE SIEGE OF TROY]\n\n[Illustration: headpiece]\n\n\n\n\nTHE SIEGE OF TROY\n\n\nEarly one fine morning, before the soldiers had arisen, the King, in a\nvery excited state, called his general to his bedside and, pointing\nthrough the opening of his tent, said:--\n\n'Bill, can you see, far away upon the horizon, that little point of\nlight?' And Bill, straining his eyes in the direction indicated, was\nindeed able to detect a little flash, as though the sun were shining\nupon a cucumber frame many miles away.\n\n'Well,' said the old man, 'that is the reflection of the sun upon the\ndome of my palace in Troy.'\n\nBill, delighted that at last they were nearing their journey's end, went\noff and awakened the camp with the glad news, and all came running out\nand gazed in the direction of Troy; and so heartened were the brave\nfellows at the sight that they gave three resounding cheers.\n\nTheir eagerness to be off was so great that there was no breakfast that\nmorning, and soon performing a hurried toilet, and speedily packing up\ntheir sticks, they were on the move once more. The King's excitement\nknew no bounds and, after distributing amongst his followers the\ncontents of his pocket, he insisted on climbing out of his chariot, and\ngiving each of his officers in turn a ride therein. Having travelled\nsome little way, the King suddenly called a halt, and held up his hand\nfor silence, and then, in the clear air, could be heard the bells of\nTroy! More excited than ever, the King now took off his crown, and\nremoving some of the jewels with the pen-knife which Bill had presented\nto him on his birthday, gave one to each of his chief officers.\n\nIn a little time the towers of Troy came into view, on the further edge\nof the great plain they were crossing, and the elated King, quite beside\nhimself with joy and expectation at this glorious sight, stood upon the\nseat of his chariot and danced, much to the alarm of Boadicea, who was\nwheeling him. He then sat down again, and, taking off his slippers, he\nthrew them, one by one, as high into the air as he could, and caught\nthem as they descended. As they came nearer and nearer to their goal the\nold fellow's spirits rose to such a pitch that something really had to\nbe done, so the musician was told-off to play soothing tunes to him, and\nin time the excitable creature calmed down, only, however, to break out\nagain when they halted that night before the walls of Troy. At last, to\nkeep him quiet once and for all, and out of everybody's way, they put\nhim to bed with a soothing-draught made up by the doctor.\n\nThe approach of the gallant fellows had been closely observed from the\nwatch-towers of the city, and, in consequence, they found the gates fast\nclosed when they halted before them. And, as nothing could be done that\nnight, they fixed up their camp and retired to rest.\n\nOn the following morning, Bill sent the merchant's wife as an\nambassadress into the city, to demand its instant surrender, and very\ngladly she undertook the task.\n\n[Illustration: Closely observed from the watch towers]\n\n'This is quite in my line,' said she, as she knocked for admittance at\nthe gate, through which she was admitted after a little delay. Bill\nwaited anxiously for her reappearance, hoping that the King of Persia\nwould be wise enough to give up the city without further trouble, but\nsuddenly a great roar resounded from the other side of the walls, and\nalmost immediately afterwards the ambassadress, with tufts of the\nPersian King's hair held between her clenched fingers, was thrown out of\nthe gates.\n\n'There's nothing for it now,' thought Bill, 'but to lay siege to the\nplace,' and he at once proceeded to walk round the city and examine the\nnature of the ground; after which he mustered his whole force before\nhim, and disposed them according to the accompanying plan:--\n\n[Illustration: PLAN OF SIEGE]\n\nIn this way Bill completely surrounded the city, allowing no provisions\nof any kind to enter, and prepared to wait until the inhabitants had\nexhausted all their stores, and could hold out no longer.\n\nThese were the instructions of General Bill to his army, to be\nfaithfully carried out during the siege:--\n\n 1. That the King was not to be allowed out of his tent on any\n account, in spite of his impatience.\n\n 2. That, with the exception of the general and the scout, no warrior\n was allowed, without his officers permission, to leave his post, day\n or night, during the siege, and if any one were discovered sleeping\n without one eye open, his allowance of sugar for porridge next\n morning was to be stopped.\n\n 3. That the scout was to be continually on the move.\n\n 4. That Boadicea was to prepare all the meals, and that at each meal\n time she was to take the food she had cooked to the soldiers (an\n extra large portion being always reserved for the King).\n\n 5. That every morning, with breakfast, she was to take to each his\n boots brightly polished, a bowl of hot water to wash in, and a comb,\n and that every evening she should bring them their slippers and\n their night-shirts.\n\nFor three years the siege went on, in quite a peaceful and, at times,\neven a pleasant way, with no sign at all of the Trojans feeling any\ndiscomfort; in fact, since the Merchant's Wife had been turned from the\ncity, not a sound had been heard from within the walls.\n\nNow it happened one morning, about this time, that the gates, to every\none's surprise, were thrown open, and a messenger, with a flag of truce,\ncame forth. The poor fellow looked hungry enough, indeed, yet the\nMerchant's Wife roughly seized upon the famished creature, much to his\nannoyance, and brought him to the general. Bill, hoping that he had come\nwith an offer from the King of Persia to surrender the city, joyfully\nhanded the young man a chair and a biscuit, and, before allowing him to\nspeak, insisted on his eating a bowl of hot porridge. When he had\nhungrily demolished the food, Bill kindly invited him to deliver his\nmessage, which, in a hesitating manner, he thus proceeded to do:--\n\n'The King of Persia sends greetings to his dear old friend, the King of\nTroy, and wishes to assure him that he bears no ill-will towards him. On\nthe contrary, his happiest moments are spent in recalling those far-off\ntimes when, as young children, they played the livelong day together, in\ngood-will and friendliness. He also begs him, for a few minutes, to\nallow his natural kindness to overcome his enmity, and send his old\nfriend, now faint with hunger, enough suet to make just a little pudding\nfor himself.'\n\nBill, a trifle disappointed, took the message to the King of Troy, who\nseemed very much affected on hearing it.\n\n[Illustration: THESE PARCELS WERE NOW LABELLED]\n\n'Give the old fellow a cracknel,' roared he, 'and tell him that if he\nsurrenders the city at once, he can have as nice a snack of dinner as he\ncould wish.'\n\nThe messenger returned to the city with the message and the cracknel,\nand Bill waited all through the day and night, but no word came from the\ncity.\n\nAfter breakfast next morning, when, as Bill thought, the King of Persia\nwould be feeling hungry, he called to him the nine stout sons of Crispin\nand Chloe and then summoned to him the Merchant's Wife and the Sicilian\nChar-woman, and between them they managed to wrap up each of the brave\nlads in brown paper, properly secured with strong string, making nine\nvery neat parcels. The general had previously instructed the brave\nfellows how to act at the right moment, and in the meantime to remain\nperfectly still. These parcels were now labelled severally lemon cheese\ncake, fairy cakes, rock cakes, Jumbles, raspberry noyeau, mince pies,\nPontefract cakes and peppermint cushions, and then all neatly piled upon\nthe King's wheeling-chair, which Bill had borrowed for the purpose.\n\nSolemnly preceded by Bill, the Merchant's Wife and the Char-woman (being\nthe two strongest people in the forces) now wheeled the chair up to the\ngates, in front of which they emptied its contents.\n\nThe hungry Trojans had observed their approach, from the walls above\nwhich could now be seen innumerable heads popping up and down, and no\nsooner did they see what the chair was supposed to contain than they\nclimbed down, and without any hesitation opened the gates. Bill then\nspoke to the Trojans in the following words:--\n\n'The King of Troy sends greetings to the King of Persia and hearing that\nhis stores are exhausted, and, although at war with him, not wishing\nthat he should suffer any serious discomfort, begs his acceptance of\nthese provisions.' Bill and the two ladies now retired with the empty\nwheeling-chair and took up their position before the walls once more.\n\nIn the meanwhile the parcels were taken into the city and presented to\nthe King of Persia who was then sitting, with the whole of his court,\nhungrily wondering what was going to happen next. The parcels were\nheaped up before him, and he could hardly conceal his delight and\neagerness to begin on the victuals at once. All his courtiers too seemed\nquite inclined to forget their manners and help themselves before they\nwere asked. The King now took up the largest parcel, labelled Pontefract\ncakes, which happened to contain Hannibal, when at a given signal each\none of the courageous young fellows broke from his confinement and at\nonce set on those around him. Hannibal and Noah seized the Persian King\nand bound him securely with some of the string from the parcels; each of\nthe other brave sons of Crispin bound some minister or courtier in the\nsame way, and the rest of the court fled from the palace in abject\nterror.\n\nThe nine lads now gave chase, and the panic which possessed the\naffrighted courtiers spread, in no time, through the city, and the whole\nof the inhabitants were soon fleeing before the infuriated fellows.\n\nPossessed with the idea that their pursuers were in much greater force\nthan they really were, the scared wretches made for the gates of the\ncity, out of which they ran as hard as they could. Bill, the General,\nwisely allowed them to pass through his lines, which they did in the\nmaddest terror, and then fled far away over the plain, as the besieging\nforces once more closed in around the city.\n\nSeeing that the gates still remained open, Bill now marshalled his\ngallant army, and in one grand procession led them into the city.\n\n[Illustration: AND PACKED HIM OFF TO PERSIA]\n\nIn front of all solemnly marched the General; then the Real Soldier;\nthen the Merchant's Wife; then the Sicilian Char-woman, proudly waving\nher flag; then followed a number of Bill's charges, the Ancient\nMariner, the Doctor, Camp-followers, the Musician playing triumphant\nmusic on his concertina, more Camp-followers, the Respectable Gentleman,\nthe Scout, the Wild Man, yet more Camp-followers, the Merchant, and,\nlast of all, preceded by the graceful Triplets, came the proud and glad\nold King himself, wheeled in great state by the faithful Boadicea, and\nguarded by the principal policeman of Troutpeg. The nine stout sons of\nCrispin, together with the remaining children, formed a guard of honour,\nextending from the city gates as far as the front door of the Palace,\ninto which the excited and Royal old creature entered at last amid the\ncheers of his gallant followers.\n\nHis first act was to release the King of Persia, and after accepting\nvery graciously his humble and sincere apologies for his unkindness, the\nclement old fellow gave him a good breakfast and packed him off to\nPersia. In a like kindly manner he treated the courtiers, after they had\nall suitably begged his pardon; and the inhabitants, who came trooping\nback as soon as they heard how graciously the rightful King was\nbehaving, one and all clamoured to shake the delighted old monarch by\nthe hand and pay their homage to him.\n\nThus, after all his trials and privations, this Royal and kindly\ncreature was restored to his throne. The crown was done up and\nbeautifully polished, and the old King once more crowned in great state.\nTo show his gratitude to his brave and faithful followers he appointed\nthem all (with the exception of the Triplets, who soon returned to\nBlowdripping) to places of honour in his court. Thus:--\n\n[Illustration: TROY BECAME THE HAPPIEST TOWN]\n\n BILL, Commander-in-chief of the Army.\n THE REAL SOLDIER, General under Bill.\n THE SCOUT, Officer of the Army.\n NINE SONS OF CRISPIN, Bodyguard to the King.\n THE CAMP-FOLLOWERS\n AND OTHERS, The Army.\n BOADICEA, Royal Housekeeper.\n ANCIENT MARINER, Admiral of the Fleet.\n SICILIAN CHAR-WOMAN, Head Char-woman to Royal Household.\n THE MERCHANT'S WIFE, Superintendent of the Prison.\n THE DOCTOR, Court Physician.\n PTOLEMY JENKINSON, King's Valet.\n RESPECTABLE GENTLEMAN, Master of Good Behaviour to the\n Royal Household.\n LONG MAN, Hall Porter at Royal Palace.\n MUSICIAN, Court Musician.\n WILD MAN, Park Keeper.\n POLICEMAN, Preserver of the Peace.\n\nWith such a gallant court and brave army around him the dear old man was\nsaved from further troubles in his State during the remainder of his\nlong and happy reign. In fact Troy became the very happiest town in the\nworld, and the old King's noble followers were so contented with their\nlot that they never again left the city of Troy.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THE END]\n\n[Illustration: vignette]\n\n * * * * *\n\nTranscriber's Notes\n\nIllustrations have been moved, when they interrupted paragraphs in the\noriginal. The list of illustrations has retained the page references in\nthe original book.\n\nThe only intentional changes to the text are the following corrections\nto typographical or printer's errors:\n\nPage 25 deleted hyphen in 'cocoa-nut' (the slabs of cocoanut ice)\n\nPage 149 added missing quotation mark at end of the paragraph (...my\ngreat courage and astute generalship.')\n\nPage 247: Missing closing single quote added (to make just a little\npudding for himself.')","title":"Bill the Minder","tradition":"folklore-oral-tradition","translated_text":null,"word_count":46802}