King Matt the First

by Janusz Korczak

  The African kings were the first to arrive. But, good heavens, were there problems with them! Bum Drum had taken on the responsibility of maintaining order in the summer palace, but some of the kings could not be controlled.

  The worst thing was that they had started fighting among themselves, and those were terribly savage fights. They scratched and bit each other, and it was impossible to tear them apart. First they would stuff themselves with the delicacies prepared by the royal cook, then they would cry because their stomachs hurt, but when the doctor told them not to eat for a day, they’d start yelling and breaking chairs and windows. And they were afraid of all sorts of things, too. King Lum-Bo was so terrified when he saw himself in the mirror that he had to take medicine to stop from shaking. Instead of walking down the stairs, King Du-Nko slid down the banister, fell, and broke his leg. In a fit of anger, King Mup bit off a servant’s finger. And there was no counting the bumps and bruises. King Pu-Bu-Ro brought along twenty wives who had received no invitations whatsoever. King Dul-Ko-Tsin had smuggled in a sausage made from the flesh of four different men. There was a tremendous uproar when the sausage was taken away from him. King Braput climbed up a tree, sat there for five hours, and spat, kicked, and bit whenever people tried to get him down. The firemen were called in. They knocked him out of the tree with a powerful stream of water and he fell into their outstretched net.

  Bum Drum was very ashamed of the kings who ran wild and was afraid they would ruin the whole celebration. It was bad enough that they fought in the little palace where they were staying, but what if they took it into their heads to start brawling at the theater or during a gala dinner?

  “We have to punish them—either whip them or put them in jail,” said Bum Drum.

  Matt refused for a long time, but then he saw that Bum Drum could not keep them under control without punishments.

  One room in the royal palace had been made into a museum. It contained various instruments which Henryk the Hasty had used to punish his subjects. There were jabbers for poking out eyes, pliers for pulling out fingernails, thumbscrews, terrible saws for cutting off arms and legs, and iron scourges, straps, sticks, and clubs of every type. It made your hair stand on end just to look at them. Matt did not like that museum. Henryk the Hasty had also had a deep well dug in the gardens, but there was no water in it. People condemned to starve to death used to be thrown down that well.

  Bum Drum decided to put all these things to good use. On the day before the European kings were to arrive, he brought the wild kings to the well and then to the torture museum and gave them a long talking-to.

  Matt didn’t know what Bum Drum said, but he must have threatened them fiercely, because they started behaving properly as could be everywhere they went.

  Bum Drum punished only two of the wild kings. One received ten lashes for biting off the servant’s finger, and another had to spend an entire day in an iron cage for what he had done one night.

  This is what happened: That night, he had felt like playing the flute. He was told that the other kings were tired and wanted to sleep, but he didn’t care. When the palace servants tried to take away his flute by force, he hopped up on a bureau and started hurling vases and figurines at their heads. And worse, he jumped out the window into the gardens and made such a hullabaloo on the terrace of the winter palace that he woke up all the European kings. They were angry because they had not been able to sleep, and complained to Matt the next day.

  “It’s bad enough that we have to sit at the same table with them and watch them eat with their fingers. Now we can’t sleep at night!”

  Matt had to do a lot of talking. He explained that the wild kings would change their ways, that Bum Drum had once been wild, too, but in two months he had learned to wash with scented soap and even how to use a toothpick.

  The European kings threatened to leave. It wasn’t easy for Matt to convince them to eat apart if they preferred. And only the best-behaved African kings would sit with them. Three of them were completely respectable and educated; they even wore jackets and trousers and knew how to use a record player.

  The European kings would not have given in so easily, but some of them were waiting for the hunt, others for the wrestling matches, and all of them—African, Oriental, and European—were waiting for the fireworks.

  Only two Oriental kings had come. King Kito-Sivo wore glasses and spoke just like a European. But Tsin-Dan, though he wasn’t very European, was not uncivilized either, because he knew etiquette.

  Tsin-Dan caused other problems. He wanted to say hello and goodbye to everyone. You might not think that was so bad unless you knew how he did it. First he would make fourteen preliminary bows to each king, then twelve ordinary bows, then ten bows of etiquette, eight ceremonial bows, then six solemn bows, four additional, and finally two concluding bows. So, all together, that was fourteen plus twelve plus ten plus eight plus six plus four plus two bows, which took forty-nine minutes; the preliminary bows took a half minute each, and the others a minute.

  “My ancestors have been doing this for five thousand years, and so I will do it as well.”

  “All right, then, you can greet one or two kings like that, but that’s all.”

  It’s a strange world, thought Matt. Some people aren’t polite enough, and others are too polite.

  King Tsin-Dan had come with two scholars who convinced him that he needn’t exchange greetings with the African kings, who were the most numerous. And he did not have to bow to the European kings in person; their pictures would do. All the European kings had been photographed, and so every day, morning and evening, Tsin-Dan performed his bows to photographs of them in his own room. When he was finished with one king, his servants would set up the photograph of another. Tsin-Dan never made it to breakfast, although he rose two hours earlier and went to sleep two hours later than the other kings.

  At least the African kings weren’t causing any more trouble. Some of them stuck out their tongues twice when greeting each other, while others stuck their tongues out four times; some put the ring finger of their right hand into their left nostril, others pounded each other’s back with their fists, jumping up three times, though some others jumped six times.

  Matt was very surprised when Bum Drum told him that in the last century there had been a terrible war between two kings that had lasted fifteen years and it had all started because one king greeted the other by putting his right index finger into his left nostril and the other had done the exact opposite. Both nations were furious. The witch doctors and other kings joined the quarrel. Everybody had a different opinion and they began to fight over who was right. They burned down huts and entire villages; they killed women and children, took prisoners and threw them to the lions. Then a plague broke out and there was such a famine that they couldn’t fight any more. But neither king had ever apologized and so now they would exchange no greetings whatsoever and sat far away from each other at the table.

  And just getting them to sit at the table was a tricky business. King Bum Drum wore himself out before they understood that chairs were for sitting on and not for whacking people’s heads with.

  But it was the children of the capital city who had the most fun. The schools had been closed, because no one was going anyway.

  The savage kings still didn’t like automobiles and went about the city on foot, with a mob of boys behind each of them. The police, too, had their hands full. When the festivities were over, the prefect of police complained that he had lost more than fifteen pounds.

  “Just think about it. Those wild men were all over town, and you had to keep an eye on them so some rascal wouldn’t throw a stone at them, and so they wouldn’t get themselves run over or eat anybody. That’s all we would have needed.”

  Matt had to give him a medal. Matt distributed all sorts of medals during the festivities: the African kings hung their medals from their noses, and the European kings wore theirs on their chests. Everyone was happy.

  Matt had y
et another disagreeable experience, because the African kings did not like the hunt. There was nothing so surprising about that—hunting rabbits and deer couldn’t seem much fun to people who were used to killing elephants, tigers, and crocodiles. Some of the European kings may not have liked the hunt very much either, but they were well brought up and pretended to like everything, for they knew that Matt was trying hard. But the wild kings were not well brought up and may even have thought that Matt was making fun of them. They raised an infernal uproar and began to brandish their bows and spears menacingly. The European kings got into their automobiles and were about to drive away, but Bum Drum came running up like a madman and began waving his arms to calm the excited savages. Finally, he succeeded.

  There was no further trouble during the hunt. The European kings even shot two boars and one bear and hoped that now the African kings would understand that there were wild animals in Europe, too. The king who had killed the bear became friendly with the Africans at the end of the hunt and bragged in sign language that he knew how to shoot and was a very great hunter. He examined their bows and arrows and even asked if he could spend the night with them in the summer palace. And the next day at breakfast he said that Africans were very nice, a lot could be learned from them, and, who knows, food just might taste better if you ate it with your fingers rather than with sharp, cold forks.

  NO ONE COULD have foreseen the next development. Bum Drum’s daughter, brave little Klu Klu, arrived at Matt’s palace in a crate full of monkeys.

  This is what happened: The zoo had been completely finished. All the animals were in their cages. The opening ceremonies were to take place on Wednesday, and on Thursday the zoo would be given over to the children to enjoy. But they were still waiting for one crate to arrive, which contained three monkeys so rare that none of the other European kings had any.

  The crate was to be opened during the ceremonies in such a way that the monkeys would jump right into their cage. Everyone stood and watched. A board was pried from the crate, and a monkey jumped into the cage, followed by a second. The third one wouldn’t come out. As soon as the crate was pulled away from the entrance to the cage, little Klu Klu jumped out and threw herself at Bum Drum’s feet, saying something to him in their language.

  Bum Drum was terribly angry, and though he was no longer as wild as he’d once been, he was about to kick his disobedient daughter when Matt came to her defense.

  “Klu Klu was bad to run away from home. Klu Klu was wrong to break open the box in the night, let one monkey go, and then take its place. But Klu Klu has already been punished. Because it’s no fun to spend six weeks in a box with two monkeys. And, after all, Klu Klu is not an ordinary child, but one who’s used to all the comforts of a king’s daughter. And things were even tougher for her than for the monkeys—Klu Klu could not go to the little window in the box where the monkeys were handed in their food, because she was afraid someone might spot her and send her back home.

  “King Bum Drum, Bum Drum my friend,” said Matt, very moved, “you can be proud of your daughter. No European girl could have done what she did. And no European boy either.”

  “I’ll give you this brat as a present,” said Bum Drum, still furious.

  “Fine,” agreed Matt. “Let her stay in my palace and learn things. When Klu Klu becomes the queen, she’ll make reforms for her people just the way I do for mine.”

  Strange as it may seem, just one hour after the fuss at the zoo, Klu Klu was acting as if she felt right at home in Matt’s country.

  The old professor who knew fifty languages spoke to her in her own language. He explained Matt’s plans for her, and she replied at once: “That’s a great idea. Please, Professor, you’re strong as a lion and wise as a crocodile. Please start teaching me your language right away so I can say what I’m thinking. I have very important plans, and I hate waiting around.”

  It turned out that Klu Klu had already learned one hundred and twelve expressions during Matt’s stay in Africa.

  “It’s remarkable how talented that little wild girl is,” marveled the professor. “She has an extraordinary memory.”

  Klu Klu not only remembered all one hundred and twelve expressions, but who she heard use them, and where. And she had also picked up some new expressions from the sailors while she was in the crate on the boat.

  “Klu Klu,” said the professor, “where did you learn those nasty expressions? You probably don’t know what they mean.”

  But Klu Klu answered: “Three of those expressions were used by the porter when he put the monkey crate on his back. He said four more when he tripped and almost fell. I heard some from the boatman when he gave us our food and from the sailors when they were drunk.”

  “Klu Klu, it’s too bad that these are the first expressions you learned from our people,” said the professor. “You must forget them right away. I’ll be very glad to teach you our language, poor dear brave Klu Klu.”

  Klu Klu was out in front during all the festivities. She turned up in more photographs than anyone else. The boys never shouted “Hurrah!” louder or tossed their caps higher than when Klu Klu went by in a car. At the opening of the children’s parliament, Klu Klu made a little speech in the language of Matt’s country: “In the name of my fellow Africans and all the children of Africa, I salute this, the first children’s parliament in the world.” Her words were followed by such a storm of applause and such howls of delight that Felek, who always kept cool, lost his temper and shouted to the delegate who was howling the loudest: “Shut up, or I’ll punch you in the mouth.”

  Felek’s choice of words made a bad impression on the European kings, even though they did not let it show.

  I would be glad to describe all the games and feasts in detail, but then I wouldn’t have enough space for more important things. And this, after all, is a book about a reformer. Besides, Matt had important political reasons for inviting all those people.

  Among the guests were the old king and his son, Matt’s sworn enemy. The king who was the friend of the Oriental kings had also come. And so had the sad king. Matt had already had a couple of long talks with him.

  “My dear Matt,” said the sad king, “I have to say that your reforms are very interesting and important. You’ve made a brave beginning. Things have been going well for you; everything’s wonderful so far. But remember: reforms are paid for with hard work, tears, and blood. Don’t fool yourself into thinking that everything will always be the way it is right now. Don’t think you can make everything just the way you want it.”

  “Oh, I know how hard it is,” answered Matt. He told the sad king how much he had been working, how many sleepless nights and cold dinners there had been.

  “The worst thing is that I don’t have a seaport of my own,” complained Matt. “And there are problems getting my gold shipments.”

  The sad king thought for a moment, then said: “You know, Matt, I think the old king would give you one of his ports.”

  “Oh, come on. His son would never allow him to.”

  “I think he would.”

  “But he hates me. He’s envious of me. He’s suspicious of me, and he feels insulted by me.”

  “Yes, that’s true, that’s all true. But he’ll agree all the same.”

  “Why?” said Matt, astonished.

  “Because he’s afraid of you. He can’t count on my friendship,” said the sad king, with a smile. “And the other king is happy because you’ve left all the Oriental kings to him.”

  “Well, I can’t take everything for myself,” grumbled Matt.

  “Of course, it isn’t intelligent to want to rule the whole world. But there are always people who try. Maybe you’ll try, too, Matt.”

  “Never!”

  “Oho, people change. Success spoils people.”

  “But not me.”

  Just then, in walked the old king and his son. “And what are Your Royal Highnesses discussing?”

  “Matt was just complaining that he doesn
’t have a seaport. Matt has mountains, forests, cities, fields, but he doesn’t have a seaport or ships. And now that he’s friends with the African kings, he absolutely needs a port.”

  “I think so, too,” said the old king. “But a solution can be found. Matt defeated us in the last war, but he ceased hostilities and demanded no reparations from us. That was very noble on his part. Now it is our turn to show that we can be grateful. My son, we can yield Matt a stretch of our seacoast and one port without any harm to ourselves.”

  “But Matt has to pay us for the ships,” the son was quick to add. “He has lots of rich friends now.”

  “I’d be more than glad to,” Matt said happily.

  The Minister of Foreign Affairs and the Secretary of State were summoned immediately, and the proper papers were drawn up and signed by all the kings. The master of ceremonies brought in the box containing the royal seal. Then, his hand trembling, Matt applied his seal.

  It was high time to finish, for the fireworks had just started.

  It was really something to see. The whole city had poured into the streets. The gardens were full of delegates, soldiers, and officials. There was a separate section for the journalists who had come from all over the world. The kings gathered on the balconies, at the windows, and on the palace terrace. Some of the savage kings climbed up onto the roof to have a better view.

  A tower of fireworks went off. Bengal fire, rockets, and red and green comets went streaking up into the sky. Then came serpents of fire and windmills, one color after another. And a gasp of admiration came from every single throat when the waterfall of fire was set off.

  “More, morel” cried the African kings, amazed and delighted. They began calling Matt the King of the Hundred-Colored Sky and the Conqueror of Fire.

  But they all had to go to bed early because everyone was scheduled to depart the next morning.

  A hundred bands played in the streets as the royal automobiles brought Matt’s guests to the station. Then all the kings—European, African, and Oriental—left Matt’s hospitable capital on ten royal trains.