by G. E. Farrow
CHAPTER II
THE NEXT DAY'S ADVENTURES
When I entered the breakfast room the next morning I found that theWallypug and the Doctor-in-Law had been up for some time, and wereboth gazing out of the window with the greatest of interest.
"I hope your Majesty slept well," I remarked to the Wallypug as Iapproached them.
"Very well indeed, thank you," he replied smilingly. "TheDoctor-in-Law and myself have just been saying that we are sure tohave an enjoyable visit here. We have been greatly interested in theman-machines going past. We have never seen anything like thembefore."
"The man-machines!" I exclaimed, puzzled to know whatever he couldmean.
"Yes, the men with wheels instead of legs, you know."
"Oh, you mean the bicyclists," I replied, laughing. "Have you reallynever seen any before?"
"No, indeed," replied his Majesty. "Are they born with wheels on, ordo they grow afterwards?"
I laughed, and fortunately just then the youngster opposite, whoalways rides to school on his bicycle, came out of doors wheeling hismachine, and I was able to explain to the Wallypug the principle uponwhich they worked.
"Dear me; the Doctor-in-Law told me that the machinery was part of theman, but now I see that it is separate. And he charged me sixpence forthe information too," he complained, looking reproachfully at theDoctor-in-Law.
"Charged you sixpence!" I cried.
"Yes," replied the poor Wallypug. "He offered to tell me all aboutthem for sixpence, and as I was really very curious to know I gave itto him, and then he informed me that they were a peculiar race ofpeople who came from Coventry, and who were all born with wheelsinstead of legs."
"Take your old sixpence then, if you are going to make all that fussabout it," said the Doctor-in-Law, crossly, throwing the coin down onthe table and walking out of the room in a huff. "I'm sure I did readsomewhere that they came from Coventry," he added, popping his head inat the door and then slamming it violently after him.
The boy opposite was still riding up and down the road, and I made upmy mind that although I had never spoken to him before, I would askhim to let the Wallypug examine his bicycle more closely.
"With pleasure," he replied, raising his hat politely to the Wallypug,when I had explained who he was; "and if his Majesty would like to tryit he is quite welcome to do so."
The Doctor-in-Law's curiosity had so far overcome his ill-humour that,when he saw us talking to the boy, he came forward and offered to helpthe Wallypug to mount.
"I really don't think he had better," I said, "he might damage themachine."
"Oh no, he won't hurt it, I'm sure," said the boy generously; and sowith our united assistance the Wallypug got on to the bicycle, andafter a few preliminary wobblings started off in fine style. Fasterand faster he went, clinging desperately to the handle-bars, till we,who were running beside him, could no longer keep pace with him.
THE START]
"I can't stop," we heard him shout; and a moment later he chargedstraight at a large stone and half a brick which lay in the middle ofthe roadway.
Poor Wallypug! The sudden impact threw him right over the handle-bars,and he landed in a huddled heap on his hands and knees in the gutter.The machine flew in half, and the front portion careered madly awayby itself till stopped by the kerb.
We hurried up to his Majesty to discover if he was much hurt, but,with the exception of a few scratches on his hands and knees and athorough shaking, he seemed to have come off pretty well.
THE FINISH]
"I suppose we can't stick it together again?" he inquired, gazingruefully at the broken bicycle, and I was obliged to tell him thatthere was not much chance of our doing so. The boy to whom it belongedbravely made the best of the matter, especially when I told him thatthe next half-holiday he had I would take him to Holborn to chooseanother one in its place.
And when I discovered that he had a half-holiday that very afternoon,it was arranged that General Mary Jane should order a carriage at thelivery stable, and that we should all drive to the city afterluncheon.
The Wallypug, after a good wash and a hearty breakfast, went to hisroom to lie down for an hour or two to recover from the effects of hisaccident, and I was just answering my morning letters when there was aknock at the study door, and the Rhymester entered.
HIPPETY-HOPPETY-PLOP]
"I sat up most of the night writing poetry," he remarked, "and I havejust brought you one or two specimens. The first one is called 'TheOde of a Toad.' Perhaps I had better read it to you. My writing israther peculiar," and he began as follows:
THE ODE OF A TOAD.
There was once an old toad who lived under a tree, Hippety hop--Flippety flop, And his head was as bald as bald could be, He was deaf as a post and could hardly see, But a giddy and frivolous toad was he, With his hippety-hoppety-plop.
And he gambolled and danced on the village green, Hippety hop--Flippety flop, In a way that had never before been seen, Tho' he wasn't so young as once he had been, And the people all wondered whate'er he could mean, With his hippety-hoppety-plop.
But the old chap kept bobbing about just the same, Hippety hop--Flippety flop, Till everyone thought he _must_ make himself lame, And not a soul ever could find out his aim, In keeping up such a ridiculous game, As his hippety-hoppety-plop.
Some said he was mad, tho' as mild as a dove, Hippety hop--Flippety flop, And as the result of a push or a shove, Was a little bit cracked in the storey above, _But I fancy myself the old boy was in love_, With his hippety-hoppety-plop.
"There! What do you think of it?" he asked when he had finished.
"Well, candidly, I'm afraid not very much," I replied; "and what onearth do you call it an ode for?"
"Why, you see, ode went so well with the word toad. I was going tocall it 'Ode to a Toad,' but it isn't _to_ a toad at all, though it'sabout a toad. Ah! by the bye, I might call it 'A Toad's Ode,' mightn'tI? I think that sounds very jolly." He altered the title in pencil.
"I LOVE BUT THEE"]
"I have another which I think you will say is very touching." Andafter getting his handkerchief out in case he should be moved totears, he began:
THE BALLADE OF A BUN.
Don't talk to me of "Sally Lunn," Or toasted tea-cake nice and hot, I do not care for either one A single solitary jot; My heart is fixed and changeth not, In all the world--whate'er I see, And rich or poor--whate'er my lot-- Oh! penny bun, I love but thee.
For thy dear sake all cakes I shun Smeared o'er with jam. No apricot Or greengage tart my heart hath won; Their sweetness doth but cloy and clot. What marmalade in fancy pot Or cream meringue, though fair it be, Thine image e'er can mar or blot? Oh! penny bun, I love but thee.
I vowed to cherish thee, or none (Such love thy simple charms begot), When first I saw thee, precious one; And now to some sweet lonely spot, Some shady dell or mossy grot, Come let us hasten, you and me, And I will eat you like a shot; Oh! penny bun, I love but thee.
_Envoy._
Small boys or girls that homeward trot From school in time for early tea, This moral ne'er must be forgot: "Love penny buns, and they'll love thee."
"Isn't it affecting?" he inquired, wiping his eyes when he hadfinished.
"Well, perhaps I didn't quite appreciate the pathos of it as I mighthave done," I answered, trying hard not to laugh. "You see I waspaying so much attention to the scansion. I find that you have alteredthe refrain in the Envoy. Surely that's not correct, is it?"
"Oh, you are a great deal too particular," remarked the Rhymestercrossly. "Why, I should think from the Doctor-in-Law's description ofa critic that you must be one."
"What did he say a critic was?" I asked.
"Why, he said a critic was a person who f
ound fault with another, fornot doing what he was unable to do himself. And he charged mefourpence three-farthings for the information, and as I only hadfourpence halfpenny I have to pay him the odd farthing when I sellsome of my poems. Can you tell me how I can set to work about it?"
"Well, I hardly know," I replied, "unless you send them to the editorsof the various magazines. They may take them, but you must not bedisappointed if some of them are rejected. You see they cannotpossibly print everything that is sent to them."
There were several magazines in the study, and I suggested that theRhymester should make a list of the addresses of the various editors,and he was busy about that till luncheon time.
At half-past two the carriage came to the door, and goodness onlyknows what General Mary Jane must have told the livery stable peopleabout the Wallypug, for, evidently anxious to send an equipage worthyof royalty, they had painted an enormous monogram in gold on the sidesof the carriage, while the coachman was resplendent in blue plush andgold lace, with silk stockings and a powdered wig.
"EQUIPAGEOUS GRANDIOSITY"]
The Wallypug was delighted when he saw this elaborate turn-out, andso were the others, for I overheard One-and-Nine murmuring somethingabout "equipageous grandiosity," as he climbed up to the seat besidethe coachman. When the Wallypug, the Doctor-in-Law, A. Fish, Esq.,and the Rhymester, were seated, there was no room left for the boyand myself, so we followed behind in a modest dog-cart, which washurriedly procured from the livery stable. Many were the wonderingglances bestowed upon the carriage, with its somewhat remarkableburden, as we drove along through Kensington to the Gardens. Andeverywhere our appearance was hailed with enthusiasm, people beingevidently under the impression that the Wallypug was one of the royalguests invited to the Jubilee festivities. Who could he be? That wasdecidedly the question which everyone was asking, and I could notquite determine who was causing the greater sensation, the Wallypug orA. Fish, Esq. These two individuals, however, comported themselveswith the calmest dignity, only the Doctor-in-Law seemed flurried bythe attention which they attracted, and smiled and bowed right andleft, whether the people took any notice of him or not.
As we approached Hyde-Park corner attention was diverted from theWallypug's carriage by the fact that _another_ royal equipage hadentered the Park gates; and as the Princess passed us, an amusedglance and a whispered conversation with the other occupant of thecarriage showed that the Wallypug's extraordinary party had notescaped Her Royal Highness's attention.
After going once round the Park we went out at the Marble Arch andalong Oxford Street to Holborn, our progress through the crowdedstreets everywhere attracting the most excited interest. And whenwe stopped before one of the large bicycle _depots_ in Holborn thecrowd around the carriage was so large that the policeman had quite adifficulty in preventing a block in the traffic. Our business was soontransacted, and, having secured an excellent machine for the boy inplace of the one which his Majesty had damaged in the morning, wedrove back to Kensington without further adventure.
The Wallypug's curiosity, however, was so awakened by what he had seenthat, as soon as we had been refreshed by a cup of afternoon tea, hesuggested that we should go out for a walk; accordingly the wholeparty proceeded to Kensington Gardens, followed by a curious andsomewhat derisive crowd of small boys, who would insist upon advisingthe Wallypug to "get his hair cut." Now, I happened to know, from whatGirlie had told me about her adventures in Why, that the Wallypug,though a kind of king, had to do as his people directed and not as heliked, and that when he had presented a petition in Parliament to beallowed to have his hair cut, they had divided upon the subject, andso he had only been allowed to have _half_ of it cut, and as the longhalf had by this time grown very long indeed, he certainly did lookrather remarkable; that was no excuse though for the street boys'rudeness, and his Majesty very wisely took no notice of them. A. Fish,Esq., came in for the greatest amount of attention, and when a fewdrops of rain began to fall, and he put up an umbrella for fear thathe should get wet, the crowd became so excited that the Doctor-in-Lawwisely suggested that a return should be made. His Majesty, however,was bent upon sight-seeing, and so the party separated, theDoctor-in-Law, A. Fish, Esq., and One-and-Nine going home, while therest of us continued our walk. When we reached the Gardens, theWallypug was greatly interested in seeing the palace where the Queenwas born, and said that he should certainly petition his Parliament toallow him to have soldiers walk up and down before the gates of hispalace, like those which he saw here. He admired greatly PrincessLouise's statue of the Queen, which stands in front of the palace,and said he couldn't imagine where-ever they could have got all thewhite sugar from to make it with, and I think that he was inclined todisbelieve me when I told him that it was not made of sugar at all,but of white marble; for he said that if that were the case hecouldn't think why they wanted to put such high railings around it, asno one would wish to carry away a marble statue of that size, whereas,if it were sugar, as he suggested, why, of course, the railings werethere to prevent the children from climbing up and breaking off littlepieces to eat.
FOR FEAR HE SHOULD GET WET]
The Round Pond and the little model ships interested His Majesty mostof all though, I fancy, and he spent quite a long time admiring them,until, while assisting a small boy to get his ship ashore, he had themisfortune to slip into the water himself, and had to be fished outwith the assistance of a boathook.
His Majesty certainly did not look either dignified or regal as hestood on the bank saturated with water, and his royal robes clingingabout him in the most woe-begone manner--and as the crowd had greatlyincreased, I was very glad to get the poor Wallypug into a cab anddrive home.
HIS MAJESTY HAS AN ACCIDENT]
On our way there, the Rhymester, being very much afraid of getting hisclothes wet, sat in the furthest corner of the cab and amused himselfby writing a verse on the subject of his Majesty's misfortune, whichread somehow like this:
"King George I've heard is King of Greece, But since this luckless slipping, The Wallypug I do declare Should be the King of _Dripping_."
I think his Majesty thought it rather unkind of the Rhymester to makefun of him in this way, but before he had time to think much aboutthe matter, we had arrived at our destination, and to my greatsurprise I could see a vast crowd collected at the doors of thebuilding in which my flat is situated.