The Missing Prince
Page 9
CHAPTER IX.--THE ELECTION.
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OY was awakened very early the next morning by Caesar MaximilianAugustus Claudius Smith (called Thomas for short), who remarked with ahaughty air while setting the breakfast things,--
"I don't suppose you will have me to wait upon you to-morrow morning,sir."
"Why not?" inquired Boy.
"I shall very likely have been made King by that time," remarked thefootman with his nose in the air. "You can still stay at the Palace,though, if you like."
"Really!" exclaimed Boy. "Have you been elected then?" he asked,forgetting that the Election did not take place till two o'clock in theafternoon.
"Not yet," admitted the footman, "but I'm pretty sure to be, because ofmy name, you know."
"Smith?" inquired Boy.
"No, the others," said the footman impatiently. "Caesar was a king, I'veheard, and so was Augustus, so was Maximilian, and so was Claudius, Ibelieve."
"No, they were all emperors," corrected Boy. "Caesar, Augustus, andClaudius, were emperors of Rome, and Maximilian was Emperor of Germany.We heard all about them in our History class last term."
"Are you sure, sir?" asked the footman mournfully.
"Yes, quite!" replied Boy decidedly.
"Dear me," cried the poor man, "I'm afraid that I don't stand quite asmuch chance as I thought I did. What a pity! I've ordered my crown andthings too," he continued. "Never mind! perhaps I may be electedafter all. I suppose, sir, if I offered to vote for you, you wouldn'tvote for me, would you?"
"I don't see how that would be of much use," exclaimed Boy.
"Well, every vote helps, you know," said Caesar Maximilian AugustusClaudius Smith (called Thomas for short). "Shall I go and get thepolling papers?"
Boy thought that it couldn't possibly do much harm, so just to pleasehim he told the footman that he might go and get them; and when hereturned a few minutes later they were both solemnly filled up and takenback to the Ballot Box. Then Boy finished his breakfast and started fora walk.
The streets were filled with excited groups of people discussing theirown prospects of being elected King, and the walls were covered withposters of all shapes and sizes begging for votes. One enterprising manwas offering _a thousand pounds_ to every one who would vote for him.
"Why, however can he pay them all?" exclaimed Boy to a person in thestreet.
"Oh! people are never expected to keep the promises made at elections,"explained the man. "Now I don't promise anything at all, but you onlyjust vote for me and see what _I'll_ do for you if I'm made King."
"I can't," said Boy. "I've already voted."
"Oh, bother!" cried the man, "you're no good to me, then," and hehurried on to the next person and began to beg for his vote.
Boy was soon surrounded by people bothering him to vote for them and wasquite glad to escape down a by-street where there was scarcely any oneto be seen, and where his attention was attracted by a curious-lookingsign affixed to a house worded like this--
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"What a funny sign!" thought Boy. "I wonder what it means?" and he wasstill wondering when a Butcher's Bill passed. He was a very tall boyand carried a butcher's tray on his shoulder. Of course, he waswhistling--all butcher boys do--but he stopped when he saw Boy and cameup to where he was standing.
"Can you tell me what that means, please?" asked Boy, pointing to thesign.
"Can't you read?" asked the Butcher's Bill.
"Not Greek," replied Boy. "That is Greek, isn't it?" he asked; for itlooked to him very much like an inscription that he had once seen carvedover a big building in London, and which his Uncle had told him wasGreek.
"Greek! your grandmother!" exclaimed the Butcher's Bill rudely. "It'sUpside Downish."
"What's that?" asked Boy.
"I'll tell you if you promise me your vote," said the Butcher's Bill.
"I'm very sorry," replied Boy, "but I've already given it."
"Then stand on your head and find out for yourself," cried the rudeButcher's Bill, shouldering his tray and walking off again whistlingloudly.
"I wonder what he means?" thought Boy, staring at the letters; he couldmake nothing of them, though, and was just going to walk away when hesaw the Advertiser General looking out of one of the windows above thesignboard.
"Come in," he called. "I want to speak to you very particularly."
Boy pushed the door open and found some steps inside which led up to alarge studio, in which he found the Advertiser General and the PublicRhymester.
They both rushed at him as soon as he entered the door and each seizedone of his arms.
"Please promise me your vote," they both exclaimed in one breath.
"Oh dear!" cried Boy, "I'm quite tired of telling everybody I havealready voted."
The Advertiser General and the Public Rhymester both looked greatlydisappointed, and each let go of his arm and went back to his work.
"What are you doing, please?" inquired Boy.
"Can't you see?" replied the Advertiser General snappishly. "We'remaking advertisements. Have you finished that Poem for Watzematta Teayet?" he asked of the Public Rhymester.
"Very nearly," he replied with some confusion, hastily screwing up somepaper which he held in his hands into a ball.
"What's that?" demanded the Advertiser General; "let me see."
The Public Rhymester handed him the ball of paper, which the AdvertiserGeneral carefully smoothed out.
"Did any one ever see such rubbish?" he exclaimed after he had read it."Why, you've mixed yourself up so with the tea that one can't tell whichis which. Just read this," and he handed Boy the crumpled pieces ofpaper, on which were written the following words:=
`Delicious Watzematta is a very soothing tea,
`And when you're voting for a King, oh, please remember me.
`It's cheaper far than other sorts; it's flavour's full and free--
`And that I'd make a charming King, I'm sure you'll all agree.=
`"One cup of Watzematta will equal any three
`Of other kinds; it is so nice--and so am I, you see.
`There never was another King so good as I will be.
`Pour boiling water on it (the tea I mean, not me)."=
"Well, it certainly is rather mixed," said Boy when he had finishedreading this curious advertisement.
"Oh! I can't settle down to anything till this Election is over,"complained the Public Rhymester. "How are you getting on?" he asked,walking over to where the Advertiser General was painting an enormousposter. "Why, you are as bad as I am," he cried. "Look at that!" andhe pointed to a part of the poster on which the Advertiser General hadpainted the words:=
``"Use Bluntpoint's Needles. To be had of all
```respectable kings."
"Good gracious, I meant drapers, of course," cried the AdvertiserGeneral, throwing down his brush. "Well, it's evidently no use trying towork till after the Election; we are all far too excited."
"I was going to ask you," said Boy, "what those words outside this housemeant."
"Oh!" said the Advertiser General, "that is a very ingeniousadvertisement of mine. You see the words are simply turned upside down,so you have to stand on your head to read them properly. It's acapital idea. You see the great thing in advertising is to impress theadvertisement on the public mind, and if one has to stand on his headthe whole of the time he is reading it through, he is not likely toforget it in a hurry, is he?
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This was the first advertisement ever written in that way," and theAdvertiser General brought from a portfolio a large card bearing thesewords:
"What _is_ all this nonsense about the Portmanteau?" exclaimed Boy. "I'malways hearing something or other about it. Whose was it?"
"Ah! it may seem nonsense to you, but I assure you it was a very seriousmatter for us at the time," said the Advertiser General, while thePublic Rhymester nodded his head emphatically.
"You see the King of Limesia and our late sovereign Ki
ng Robert theTwentieth were very great friends, and the King of Limesia came to Zumon a visit. Oh, it was a grand time, I can tell you. The streets weredecorated, and there were speeches and processions, and he was presentedwith the freedom of the city in a casket made of solid gingerbreadgilded over so that it looked like real gold, and which he could eatwhen he got tired of looking at."
"I think that's a very good idea," interrupted Boy. "I have often readof people being presented with addresses and things in gold caskets,and I always wondered whatever use they could possibly be to themafterwards."
"Well," continued the Advertiser General, "things went on swimmingly fora few days till suddenly the King of Limesia's Portmanteau disappearedvery mysteriously. No one had the slightest idea when, where, orhow. You would never believe the commotion it caused. Both Kings werefurious. King Robert declared that it _must_ and _should_ be found, andhad an organised search made in every house in Zum. Not one was passedwithout having every room ransacked. The King of Limesia declared thathe would not remain a single day longer, and went off in a huff, andaltogether there was such a set out as you never saw." #
"What was there in the Portmanteau?" asked Boy.
"Why, all the King's clean collars, a new toothbrush, a receipt formaking toffee and lots of things. Well, I had to prepare a specialPoster to be stuck about the town, and by a splendid piece of goodfortune I thought of this system of advertising. It was great successand caused an enormous sensation. Just fancy seeing the streets fullof people all standing on their heads at the same time reading theadvertisement.
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The King was delighted and made sure that we should soon find thePortmanteau. We never did, though, to this day," said the AdvertiserGeneral mournfully, "and the King of Limesia and our late King nevermade up the quarrel about it."
"Well," said Boy, "I think it was rather silly to make all that fussabout an old Portm----"
But before he could finish the sentence cries of "Haste to the poll,"
"Haste to the poll" were heard in the street, and on looking out of thewindow they saw people rushing frantically towards the House of Words.Hastily snatching up their caps the Advertiser General and the PublicRhymester rushed down the stairs and out into the road, and were soonlost to sight in the crowd. Boy followed as quickly as he could, forhe wanted to hear who had been elected King. He could not get near theHouse of Words because of the crowd, but he could see by a clock in thestreet that it was nearly two, so the suspense would soon be over.
"Do you think that I stand any chance, sir?" inquired amelancholy-looking person standing near Boy.
"I'm sure I don't know," replied he.
"Because if I do I don't know however I shall be able to afford a crownand sceptre. Are they very expensive, do you know?"
"Why, I should think they would be provided for you if you were electedKing, wouldn't they?" asked Boy.
"I'm sure I don't know. I wish I hadn't gone in for it at all," repliedthe man; "I'm a shoemaker by trade, and my wife she said to me, 'What afine thing it would be if you were elected King!' so I voted for myself.I am rather sorry I did so now, because I don't know anything aboutreigning, and I'm afraid I sha'n't make a very good King if I amelected."
Before Boy could reply there was a great shout, and two o'clock struckfrom the clock tower above the House of Words.
"Now we shall soon know," said Boy; and sure enough in a few momentsthe Lord High Adjudicator came to the top of the steps, and with a verywhite face announced that everybody had the same number of votes, sothat they were _all_ elected Kings; and it turned out afterwards thateverybody but Boy and Caesar Maximilian Augustus Claudius Smith (calledThomas for short) had voted for themselves, and as those two had votedfor each other it came to the same thing.
It was very comical to see the airs the people at once began to givethemselves when they realised what had happened, and even the poorShoemaker King stared in a haughty way at Boy, and did not deign even tosay good-day as he hurried home to tell his wife the news.
Boy was heartily amused, and the more so when he heard the veryButcher's Bill that he had seen in the morning say to another Bill ofabout the same age as himself,--
"Look here, Your Majesty, if I have any more of Your Majesty's cheekI shall have to punch Your Majesty's royal nose, and if Your Majestywishes to fight, come on."
To which the other boy, who had previously been a Grocer's Bill,replied,--
"Your Majesty may be a King, but you are no gentleman, and I would notbemean myself by condescending to fight with Your Majesty;" and with ascornful look the late Grocer's Bill passed on.
"Well, I expect there will be a pretty muddle presently if all thesepeople are to be Kings," thought Boy, quite forgetting that he was aKing himself under these circumstances; and it was not until he hadtried to buy a penny bun, and had been told by the baker's wife that"His Majesty had given up business," that he realised how very awkwardit might become.
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