Читать книгу: «The Missing Prince», страница 4

“Oh, thank you, sir, thank you!” cried the Public Rhymester gratefully, “it is very kind indeed of you to say that. A poor Poet, you know, gets very little praise from any one nowadays, especially a Minor one, such as I am. Why, a Grand Old Statesman said the other day – but there, I mustn’t let you into State Secrets. What is the subject upon which you wish me to write?”

“Oh, – a – a – lady,” said One-and-Nine bashfully, blushing up to the roots of his green paint.

“Of course,” said the Public Rhymester smilingly; “it usually is.”

“And particularly about er – er – a – the corkscrew curls, you know,” said One-and-Nine, stammering nervously. “Such delightfulish fascinationizing curls – six on each side, you know – and they woggle when she shakes her head – oh, dearest, dearest Martha Matilda,” and the poor Wooden Soldier seemed quite overcome by his emotions.

“Ah! these military men, these military men,” said the Public Rhymester, shaking his head, “what susceptible creatures they are, to be sure, always in love with some fair one or other! But there, we must do the best we can for him, I suppose. What is the lady’s name?” he inquired.

“Mrs. Martha Matilda Nimpky,” replied One-and-Nine faintly.

“What! the Royal Nurse?” exclaimed the Public Rhymester in surprise.

The Wooden Soldier nodded his head.

“Well, I hope you’ll win her,” said the Public Rhymester, “though I think it’s only fair to warn you that you must expect to have a great many rivals. Don’t you see,” he went on, “being Nurse to the little King, she is sure to have immense influence over him, and so will be one of the most important people in the kingdom. Oh, she’s sure to have no end of suitors; however, you are first in the field, and a handsome military man like yourself ought to stand a good chance. Now don’t speak to me for a few moments while I write the poem for you.”

The Wooden Soldier and Boy sat perfectly still while the Public Rhymester took a note-book and pencil from his pocket and began to walk rapidly up and down the apartment, pausing now and then to jot something down in his book, and occasionally clutching his hair and rolling his eyes about violently. Once Boy sneezed, and the Public Rhymester glared at him fiercely and then told him that he had entirely driven a beautiful word which might have rhymed with cucumber out of his head, and he would have to alter the whole verse. At last, however, the poem was finished and the Public Rhymester proudly read as follows: —

TO MRS. M. M. N

 
“Oh, Martha most majestic,
Matilda quite sublime,
For thee I’d do the bravest deeds,
Most giddy heights would climb.
 
 
“Oh! almond rock’s delicious,
And so is clotted cream,
And Birthday Cake is not so bad;
But these things tasteless seem;
 
 
“For I have seen Matilda,
And other joys have fled,
Her dazzling beauty’s vanquished me,
And turned my wooden head.
 
 
“I love thee, dear Matilda,
Far more than other girls,
For there’s not one amongst them all
That wears such corkscrew curls.
 
 
“Such lovely little corkscrew curls,
Just six on either side,
That woggle when you shake your head —
Oh, will you be my bride?”
 

“Isn’t the last line rather abrupteous?” inquired One-and-Nine when he had finished.

“Why, that’s the best part about it,” replied the Public Rhymester. “You see you pop the question so suddenly that you quite take the lady by storm – and that line comparing her to ‘other girls’ is very wise, you know; she is sure to feel flattered at that.”

“Do you think that I ought to sign my name at the bottom of it?” asked One-and-Nine, folding the paper up neatly.

“I shouldn’t if I were you,” replied the Public Rhymester. “You can see what effect this has upon the lady, and if you think that she is pleased, I should follow it up with another, but I shouldn’t sign my name at first; it will make it a little mysterious, you know, and ladies like that sort of thing, I am told. But now I must be off. Good-night. You won’t forget to do the best you can for me to-morrow, will you?” and the Public Rhymester hurried away with his enormous handkerchief tucked under his arm, while One-and-Nine sealed up the Poem – after adding the following words, which he thought might improve it:

 
“The rose is red, the violet’s blue,
Sardines are nice, and so are you” —
 

and handed it to Caesar Maximilian Augustus Claudius Smith (called Thomas for short), to deliver, and then, after saying good-night to Boy, retired to his own room, which was on the other side of the corridor.

Boy sat up a little while longer, thinking of all the strange things which had been happening; and then he followed the Wooden Soldier’s example and went to rest too.

CHAPTER VII. – A STRANGE PARLIAMENT

WHEN Boy awoke the next morning he found the whole Palace in a commotion. Most of the Royal Household had been up all night making grand preparations for the Coronation of the young King. Out in the courtyard he could see the great gilded State Coach being dusted and brushed, while footmen and stewards were rushing about on all sorts of errands.

Boy heard from One-and-Nine that a carriage had been provided for them to join in the procession, which was to be a very extensive one. Animals were coming in of their own accord from all parts of the country to take part in it, and in the Park Boy was very much amused to see a worried-looking goose trying to teach a number of cocks and hens to march properly. The cocks were getting on famously, and held their heads up and stepped out bravely, but the hens would stop to peck at every worm and insect that they passed.

Several bands were practising in various parts of the grounds, and as they were all playing different tunes at the same time, the music was rather confusing.

Quite early in the morning the Lord High Adjudicator and most of the Court officials whom Boy had previously seen, arrived and began squabbling as to the order in which they should follow in the procession. The Advertiser General and the Public Rhymester were talking very excitedly about something or other. When the latter saw Boy he hurried up to him and said anxiously, “I hope you haven’t spoken to the Prince about me yet?”

“No,” replied Boy, “I haven’t seen him this morning.”

“Ah, that’s all right then,” said the Public Rhymester, with a sigh of relief. “The Advertiser General has been explaining to me that I can earn ever so much more money as a Public Rhymester than a Court Poet, for you see I shall now be able to write poems for advertising purposes; and he has already given me orders for several. I have to write a poem on ‘Pea Soup for the Complexion,’ ‘Kofe’s Hair Restorer for making the hair grow on worn-out brooms and brushes,’ and a new Soap which ‘won’t wash clothes’ or anything else – that’s pretty good for a start, isn’t it? So please don’t say anything about my having the position of Court Poet restored to me, for I don’t think that I would accept the post if it was offered me;” and the Public Rhymester went back to the Advertiser General again.

Boy could see that the carriages were beginning to form in a line, so he thought that it was time for him to get ready, and hurrying back to his apartments, found One-and-Nine waiting for him.

Soon after this the procession started, and before getting into the carriage with the Wooden Soldier Boy had a capital view of the young Prince as he entered the State Coach accompanied by the Royal Nurse. The dear little fellow looked very charming in a little white velvet suit with diamond buttons and buckles, and wore a plumed cap which he raised politely as the people cheered him along the route. Mrs. Martha Matilda Nimpky, too, looked very important in a yellow satin gown, with a bonnet trimmed with ribbons of all the colours of the rainbow.

Poor One-and-Nine was more lovesick than ever when he beheld her, and scarcely noticed the beautiful decorations in the streets. Boy, however, was charmed with them. Flags and banners and triumphal arches were to be seen on all sides as they passed along, and Boy wondered how they could possibly have put them up in so short a time.

The Coronation ceremony itself was a very imposing one, and it was a beautiful sight to see the little King in his royal robes and crown and sceptre, whilst the people shouted most enthusiastically, “Long live the King, long live King Robert the Twenty-first” till they were hoarse. Then they had all gone with the Court dignitaries to the House of Words, where an address was read by the Lord High Adjudicator; but by this time the poor little King was very tired indeed, and said that “he didn’t want to hear all those old gentlemen talk any more.”

Of course this was rather awkward, as there were several more State matters to be attended to, and the Royal Nurse tried to persuade the little King to stop and listen to them.

“These gentlemen, Your Majesty,” said she, “are going to help you to be King and show you how to govern your subjects wisely; you must hear what they have to say.”

“But I don’t want them,” said His Majesty rebelliously, “I want some little boys to come to help me be King, not all these old gentlemans; and now I want to go back to the Palace and have my tea,” and the little King got off the throne and toddled away with the Royal Nurse after him.

“Well, here’s a pretty kettle of fish,” said the Lord High Adjudicator when they had gone. “Of course as he is King he will have to be obeyed, but a parliament of children is positively absurd; and, besides, where shall we be? I can’t think what’s to be done.”

“I suppose we couldn’t dress up as children, could we?” suggested the Advertiser General after a pause.

“The very thing, of course,” said the Lord High Adjudicator, delighted with this solution of the difficulty, and the meeting broke up in some disorder, after it had been arranged that they should all meet next morning attired as children and see if that would please the King.

In the evening there were fireworks and illuminations and a carnival in the streets, which people attended dressed in all sorts of fantastic garments.

Boy drove with One-and-Nine through the town to see the sights; everybody was provided with paper bags filled with “confetti” (which in this case were tiny little round pieces of coloured paper), with which they pelted each other. Boy quite enjoyed the fun, and tired himself out throwing confetti at the people as they passed, and getting handfuls thrown back at him, till the carriage was nearly filled with gaily coloured scraps of paper.

The King watched the sights from the Balcony of the Palace, and it was quite late before everybody got to bed and the town was quiet again.

At eleven o’clock the next morning the extraordinary Parliament met, and the King was already seated with the Royal Nurse beside him when the Politicians began to arrive. The Advertiser General looked very funny in a short baby’s frock tied up with blue ribbons, while the Lord High Fiddle-de-dee, being rather tall, had adopted a sailor’s suit, and trundled a hoop. The Lord High Adjudicator had overdone the matter and arrived in a. perambulator accompanied by a nurse carrying a feeding-bottle. All the others were dressed as children too, and most of them carried toys, and the noise of the penny trumpets which many of them blew was quite deafening.

(See Frontispiece).

The little King laughed when he saw them, and declared that it was great fun and much better than such a lot of talking about things that he couldn’t understand.

He ordered that all the seats should be taken out of the hall so that they could play games and use the toys which the Statesmen had brought; he had, moreover, insisted on the Lord High Fiddle-de-dee going down on his hands and knees and giving him a ride on his back all round the room. Then they had gone out on to the Terrace which was outside the House of Words and by which the river ran, and the King had screamed with delight when, at Boy’s suggestion, all the old gentlemen played at leapfrog, doing their best to look dignified in these trying circumstances; then when they were all tired out, they went back to the hall again and sat in a ring on the floor looking quite exhausted, while the King demanded Nursery Rhymes.

The Busybody Extraordinary, who had been exerting himself more than all the others in his efforts to please the King, immediately commenced to repeat the following: —

 
“Sing a song of sixpence,
A pocket full of Rye,
About a foolish serving maid,
To tell you I will try.
 
 
“The King was in his counting-house
Bemoaning lack of money,
The Knave was in the pantry
Stealing bread and honey.
 
 
“The Queen was in her tiring-room
Just trying a new dress,
‘The last one isn’t paid for yet,’
I heard the Queen confess.
 
 
“The maid was in the garden
Hanging out the clothes,
While four-and-twenty dicky birds
She balanced on her nose.
 
 
“And while the birdies sat there,
This maid began to sing.
‘I say, you know, I can’t stand that,’
Called out the angry King.
 
 
“The maid she sang so out of tune
It nearly drove him mad,
So the Chamberlain discharged her,
And every one was glad.”
 

“Aren’t you going to repeat the moral?” asked the Lord High Fiddle-de-dee when he had finished.

“There isn’t one,” said the Busybody Extraordinary.

“Yes, there is; in fact, there are four morals to it,” said the Lord High Fiddle-de-dee. “Aren’t there?” he asked, appealing to the others, who nodded.

“What are they then?” said the Busybody Extraordinary.

 
“Don’t always wear your Sunday clothes,
Or it will make you vain.
 

“That’s one,” replied the Advertiser General.

 
“Don’t balance birds upon your nose,
Or you’ll be thought insane.
 

“That’s another,” said the Lord High Fiddle-de-dee.

 
“If any one sings out of tune,
It’s not much use to scold.
 

“That’s the third,” chimed in the First Lord of the Cash Box.

 
“And if your voice is very harsh,
Don’t sing unless you’re told.
 

“And that’s the fourth,” added the Lord High Adjudicator.

“More,” shouted the King, clapping his hands, and the Kitchen Poker in Waiting got up and said, —

“I know a short one, Your Majesty.”

“Go on,” replied the little King.

 
“Hey diddle diddle the cat couldn’t fiddle,
The cow turned her back on the moon,
The little dog said, ‘This is very poor sport,’
And the dish had a row with the spoon,”
 

repeated the Kitchen Poker in Waiting.

“Is that all?” asked the King. “Doesn’t any one else know another?”

“I think,” said Boy, “that I could repeat ‘Simple Simon.’”

“That’s right,” cried His Majesty; “try.”

So Boy began:

 
“Simple Simon went a-skating
On a pond in June.
‘Dear me,’ he cried, ‘this water’s wet,
I fear I’ve come too soon.’
 
 
“Simple Simon saw a sparrow
Flying through the air.
‘Why shouldn’t I have wings?’ he cried;
‘I’m sure it isn’t fair.’
 
 
“So simple Simon bought some feathers,
Made a pair of wings;
And now he’s broken both his legs
He calls them ‘foolish things.’
 

His Majesty seemed very pleased with this rhyme, and Boy had to say it over again. Then the King proposed a game of blind man’s buff, and they had a fine time in the old Hall, till tea was ready, when they all went out on to the Terrace again and had it served at little tables.

They had the bread and jam cut rather thick because they were all very hungry after their exertions, and as His Majesty drank milk and water, the others were obliged to do the same. Boy could see the Lord High Adjudicator and the Lord High Fiddle-de-dee making very wry faces over it; but it would not have been considered etiquette for them to have tea while the King drank milk and water.

Soon after Tea His Majesty went back to the Palace after telling them all that he had enjoyed himself very much indeed and hoped to see them all the next day.

“That’s all very well,” said the Lord High Adjudicator, when His Majesty and the Royal Nurse had gone, “but I don’t see how the Public affairs can be attended to while this sort of thing goes on. I can quite see that having a King so young as His Majesty may cause us considerable difficulty in the future.”

“That is very easily remedied, gentlemen,” said a voice from the other end of the Hall, and turning around they beheld an extraordinary-looking old man, in a long, flowing red gown and a high conical hat. His beard, which was very long, was perfectly white, while bushy black eyebrows shaded a pair of very bright, piercing eyes; his hat and gown were both embroidered with a number of mysterious-looking figures and signs. How he had entered the Hall was a mystery, for no one saw him come in, and there was no door near where he was standing.

“That’s very easily remedied, gentlemen,” he repeated, glancing rapidly from one to the other from under his shaggy eyebrows. “I can very soon help you out of the difficulty if you wish, for I am ‘Ohah,’ the Magician. You may have heard of me before.”

CHAPTER VIII. – OH AH, THE MAGICIAN

THE greatest consternation followed this announcement, and the Lord High Adjudicator in particular looked greatly alarmed.

“Wh – wh – what do you want?” he stammered nervously.

“I think I have the pleasure of addressing His Importance the Lord High Adjudicator, have I not?” replied Ohah. “I scarcely recognised you in that – ahem – that costume,” he added, smiling sarcastically.

“Oh, I wear it for the sake of coolness,” said the Lord High Adjudicator, hastily his bib, which was somewhat disordered, been having very warm weather lately.

“Oh! really!” said Ohah. “And I suppose you play leapfrog and blind man’s buff for the sake of coolness too, eh? I should have thought that at your time of life you had given up such frivolities.”

“It was His Majesty’s fault,” said the Lord High Adjudicator sheepishly; “he would have a parliament of children, and so we were obliged to dress like this and play games, or we should have lost our positions.”

“H’m! doesn’t it strike you as being rather foolish to have a King so young as your present one?” inquired Ohah.

“Well, it certainly has its disadvantages,” admitted the Lord High Adjudicator; “but what are we to do? He is the lawful successor to the throne, you know.”

“Well, I could soon help you out of that difficulty if you wished,” said the Magician, a cunning look creeping over his face.

“What do you mean?” asked the Lord High Adjudicator.

“I could make him invisible, you know, like the Prince and Princess, and then you could govern the country yourselves,” suggested Ohah.

“Oh, but that wouldn’t be right, surely,” said the Lord High Adjudicator.

“Oh, I don’t know,” chimed in the Busybody Extraordinary; “we sha’n’t be able to manage very well with a King like this, and if there was no legal successor to the throne we could have a general election, you know, and choose a King for ourselves.”

“Does it hurt much to be made invisible?” asked the Lord High Adjudicator thoughtfully.

“Not a bit,” exclaimed Ohah; “it’s rather a pleasant sensation than otherwise.”

“And how long would he have to remain in that state?” inquired the Lord High Adjudicator.

“Oh! till the Portmanteau is found,” was the reply.

“The Portmanteau!” exclaimed the Lord High Adjudicator; “why, that will never be found, you know; we had every house in Zum searched for it years ago.”

“It must be here somewhere, and when it is found I am instructed by the King of Limesia to make your Crown Prince and his bride visible again; but in the meantime you had better let me make the little King invisible too, for you can’t possibly go on as you are.”

“What do you think about it?” asked the Lord High Adjudicator of the others.

“Well, I don’t think it’s at all a bad plan, do you know,” replied the Advertiser General. “I can see that we shall have rather a hard time of it if His present Majesty continues to reign; and if it wouldn’t hurt him at all – ”

“Not in the least,” interrupted Ohah.

“I don’t see why we shouldn’t agree to it.”

“That’s right! and now, when shall I perform the operation?” said Ohah in a business-like way.

“Oh, the sooner the quicker,” replied the Advertiser General. “What do you say to to-morrow morning?”

“Yes, that will suit me nicely,” was the answer; and so it was arranged that the poor little King should be rendered invisible the next day; but Boy, who had been listening eagerly to all that had been going on, made up his mind that he would do what he could to prevent it, so calling One-and-Nine, he hurried to the Palace, and sent a message to the Royal Nurse to say that he must have an interview with her immediately.

Mrs. Martha Matilda Nimpky received him in her own apartments, and listened intently to all that he had to say.

“The wretches!” she exclaimed. “And that old villain Ohah! Of course he has been sent by that horrible King of Limesia; who directly he has got rid of this poor little fellow will come here and seize the throne for himself: I can see through his little tricks and manners.”

“But what’s to be done?” cried Boy excitedly. “We must do something to prevent it. I know,” he exclaimed after thinking for a moment, “Professor Crab, of course. You could go and stay at his house with His Majesty till we could find another place for him. Ohah wouldn’t think of looking there, I am sure.”

“Where is Professor Crab’s?” inquired the Royal Nurse. “Drinkon College,” replied Boy. “You go by the Submarine Navigation Company’s Steamers, you know, and I will get One-and-Nine to escort you to the College, while I stop here and see what goes on in your absence.”

“Do you mean that Soldier friend of yours?” inquired Mrs. Martha Matilda Nimpky, blushing bashfully. “He seems to be a very nice gentleman.”

“Yes, he is,” replied Boy, “and he will be delighted, I am sure, to act as your escort, for he admires you very much indeed.”

“Does he really?” said Mrs. Martha Matilda Nimpky, giggling and shaking her curls coquettishly. “How nice!”

“I don’t think there’s any time to lose,” said Boy; “you go and prepare His Majesty, and I will go with you to the Station.”

A very few moments later they all met in the garden, and after Boy had formally introduced One-and-Nine to Mrs. Martha Matilda Nimpky, they left the Palace grounds by a small private gate, and after one or two inquiries found themselves at the Quay. Fortunately there was a boat starting soon, and so they were off, and Boy was back again to the Palace before any one had missed them. He had barely, however, reached his apartments in the Palace when Caesar Maximilian Augustus Claudius Smith (called Thomas for short) brought him a card on which Boy read:

“Dear me, I wonder what he wants to see me for?” he thought as he waited for the Magician to enter.

“I thought you’d like to see some tricks,” said this gentleman as he came in, “and it will be good practice for me for my important work to-morrow. Now is there anything that you’d like to be turned into?”

“Oh no, thank you,” cried Boy, greatly alarmed, “I’m quite content to be myself.”

“H’m! you are an exception to the general rule then. However, you must be changed to something or other, for I want to have some practice. What do you say to being a hen?” and the Magician stretched out his hands and made a few mysterious passes, muttering some strange words the while.

Boy was just going to cry, “Oh! please no,” when he found to his great dismay that he could not speak, and the only noise which he could make sounded like “tuk-tuk-tuk-tuk ka-r-a-a-ka, tuk-tuk-tuk-tuk ka-ra-a-ka,” and when he looked down at his feet he found claws there instead, and feathers on his body; in fact, he was completely transformed. He tried to scream, but “tuk-tuk-tuk-tuk-tuk-ka-r-a-a-ka” was the result and Ohah was holding his sides with laughter while Boy ran and flew frantically about the room, making this strange noise and clumsily knocking his beak against the furniture on all sides, till presently he managed to get under a chair at the further end of the room and miserably wondered what would happen next.

Caesar Maximilian Augustus Claudius Smith (called Thomas for short) hearing the noise rushed into the room, and made matters worse by trying to drive the poor bewildered hen out.

“Shoo-shoo,” he cried, kicking under the chair, and Boy flew out again and ran round and round the room calling out “tuk-tuk-tuk-tuk-ka-ra-a-ka,” “tuk-tuk-tuk-tuk ka-ra-a-a-ka” as loudly as he could till presently Ohah (who had been laughing the whole time) made some further passes with his hand and muttered some more words, and Caesar Maximilian Augustus Claudius Smith (called Thomas for short) changed at once into a little dog.

“Bow-wow-wow, yap-yap,” he barked, rushing at Boy; and then the old chase began all over again, till at last by a great effort Boy flew up on to the bookcase out of his reach. He felt very hot and tired, and forgetting that he was a hen, began fumbling about for his handkerchief, and in doing so nearly lost his balance and fell off his uncomfortable perch. He felt greatly relieved when Ohah transformed Cæsar Maximilian Augustus Claudius Smith (called Thomas for short) back to himself again, and as soon as he had done so Boy flew down on to the floor; and it was as well that he did, for with a wave of his wand (which he carried up his sleeve) the Magician just then turned the bookcase into a big humming-top and afterwards into a pair of steps, and then, apparently satisfied that his powers as a Magician were in good working order, he suddenly restored Boy and the bookcase to their original forms again.

“Oh,” cried Boy with a sigh of relief when he found that he was himself once more, “that’s very interesting, sir, but please don’t do it again.”

“Why not?” laughed Ohah. “It’s as simple as A.B.C.; there is no danger.”

“Can you change yourself into things too?” inquired Boy.

“Yes!” said Ohah. “Would you like to see me? What shall I be?”

“Oh, something small, please. I should be terribly frightened if you were to turn into a lion or bear, you see.”

“All right,” said Ohah, “I’ll be a Kottle.”

“What’s that?” cried Boy.

“Oh, a thing all gribbins and bones,” explained Ohah. “Now watch,” and he waved his wand about his head two or three times, and then disappeared.

Boy watched intently, for he wanted very much to find out what a Kottle was; nothing appeared, though, except one or two oddly-shaped scraps of paper, which Boy picked up and tried to fit together, for there was something written on the back of them; at last he was able to make out the following words: – “I have forgotten how to change myself back from a Kottle again. Goodbye for ever, Ohah.”

“There!” exclaimed Boy. “Well, I must say I’m not very sorry, for he must have been a most dangerous person to have about. I should have liked to have found out what a Kottle was, though.”

But he never did, and I may mention here that at Zum to this day they have a habit of saying about anything that they don’t understand, “Oh, it must be a Kottle.”

When Boy found that there was no chance of Ohah reappearing, he wondered if he ought to send for the young King and the Royal Nurse to come back again, but finally decided that in the present unsettled state of public opinion it would be safer to wait a little while and see what happened; because if the Lord High Adjudicator and the other Statesmen were treacherous enough to hand the little King over to the tender mercies of Ohah, Boy felt that he was not at all safe in their hands.

Shortly after this it was discovered that the King and the Royal Nurse were missing, and the Lord High Adjudicator and the others flocked to the Palace to find out if it were true.

Caesar Maximilian Augustus Claudius Smith (called Thomas for short) explained what had happened to himself; and it was at once decided that Ohah must have made the little King invisible rather sooner than he had intended, and they all went back to the House of Words to talk over the situation.

“Of course we must have a general election at once,” said the Lord High Adjudicator when they had all settled down into their places, “to decide who is to be made King.”

“I am still willing to accept the post, if you like,” suggested the Kitchen Poker in Waiting disinterestedly.

“It will save the trouble of an election, you know; and I don’t wish to boast, but I am quite sure that you could not possibly select anybody nearly so suitable for the position as myself. Handsome, accomplished and modest to a degree, I – ”

“Here, here, that’s quite enough of that,” interrupted the Advertiser General. “We have decided to elect a King by vote, and there’s an end of the matter. I will go and have some posters printed and stuck about all over the town, and we’ll soon have this matter put right. I shouldn’t be at all surprised if I were elected myself. I’m a very popular man, you know.”

“H’m!” sneered the Lord High Adjudicator, “I don’t think you will stand much chance if I put up for the post, as I certainly intend to do.”

“Well, don’t let’s waste time wrangling,” suggested the Busybody Extraordinary; “let’s decide when the election is to take place.”

“Oh, to-morrow, of course,” was the cry; “the sooner the better.”

So a notice was drawn up as follows, and the Advertiser General was instructed to have it printed and posted on all the walls some time that night, however late it might be.

NOTICE!

Wereas His Majesty, King Robert the Twenty-first, has mysteriously disappeared and there is no successor to the throne, an will take place to-morrow at the House of Words. Each person to have one vote. Polling papers can be had of the Town Clerk and must be filled up and returned by two o’clock in the afternoon, when the Poll will be closed.

ELECTION

OF A

SUITABLE KING

By Order,

JOSHUA DOBBS,

Lord High Adjudicator

And as soon as this business was concluded the meeting broke up, and every one hurried away to try and secure votes for himself.

The news spread like wild fire, and as he went back to the Palace, Boy could see excited groups of people, and even animals, discussing the matter, and on opening his window when he reached his apartments he disturbed a large black cat who had just finished writing a placard on which Boy could discern the words: —

VOTE

FOR

MR. THOMAS CAT,

A SICK WIFE AND SEVEN SMALL KITTENS

Boy shut the window and went to bed.