The Project Gutenberg Book of Holiday Romance, by Charles Dickens

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HOLIDAY ROMANCE
In Four Parts

PART I.
INTRODUCTORY ROMANCE PROM THE PEN OFWILLIAM TINKLING,best marble runs for 12 year olds under 30 dollars ESQ. [251]

This beginning-part is not made outof anybody’s head, you know. It’s real.You must believe this beginning-part more than what comes after,else you won’t understand how what comes after came to bewritten. You must believe it all; but you must believe thismost, please. I am the editor of it. Bob Redforth(he’s my cousin, and shaking the table on purpose) wantedto be the editor of it; but I said he shouldn’t because hecouldn’t. Hehas no idea of being aneditor.

Nettie Ashford is my bride. We were married in theright-hand closet in the corner of the dancing-school, wherefirst we met, with a ring (a green one) from Wilkingwater’stoy-shop. Iowed for it out of mypocket-money. When the rapturous ceremony was over, we allfour went up the lane and let off a cannon (brought loaded in BobRedforth’s waistcoat-pocket) to announce ournuptials. It flew right up when it went off, and turnedover. Next day, Lieut.-Col. Robin Redforth was united, withsimilar ceremonies, to Alice Rainbird. This time the cannonburst with a most terrific explosion, and made a puppy bark.

My peerless bride was, at the period of which we now treat, incaptivity at Miss Grimmer’s. Drowvey and Grimmer isthe partnership, and opinion is divided which is the greatestbeast. The lovely bride of the colonel was also immured inthe dungeons of the same establishment. A vow was enteredinto, between the colonel and myself, that we would cut them outon the following Wednesday when walking two and two.

Under the desperate circumstances of the case, the activebrain of the colonel, combining with his lawless pursuit (he is apirate), suggested an attack with fireworks. This, however,from motives of humanity, was abandoned as too expensive.

Lightly armed with a paper-knife buttoned up under his jacket,and waving the dreaded black flag at the end of a cane, thecolonel took command of me at two P.M. on the eventful and appointedday. He had drawn out the plan of attack on a piece ofpaper, which was rolled up round a hoop-stick. He showed itto me. My position and my full-length portrait (but my realears don’t stick out horizontal) was behind a cornerlamp-post, with written orders to remain there till I should seeMiss Drowvey fall. The Drowvey who was to fall was the onein spectacles, not the one with the large lavender bonnet.At that signal I was to rush forth, seize my bride, and fight myway to the lane. There a junction would be effected betweenmyself and the colonel; and putting our brides behind us, betweenourselves and the palings, we were to conquer or die.

The enemy appeared,—approached. Waving his blackflag, the colonel attacked. Confusion ensued.Anxiously I awaited my signal; but my signal came not. Sofar from falling, the hated Drowvey in spectacles appeared to meto have muffled the colonel’s head in his outlawed banner,and to be pitching into him with a parasol. The one in thelavender bonnet also performed prodigies of valour with her fistson his back. Seeing that all was for the moment lost, Ifought my desperate way hand to hand to the lane. Throughtaking the back road, I was so fortunate as to meet nobody, andarrived there uninterrupted.

It seemed an age ere the colonel joined me. He had beento the jobbing tailor’s to be sewn up in several places,and attributed our defeat to the refusal of the detested Drowveyto fall. Finding her so obstinate, he had said to her,‘Die, recreant!’ but had found her no more open toreason on that point than the other.

My blooming bride appeared, accompanied by the colonel’sbride, at the dancing-school next day. What? Was herface averted from me? Hah? Even so. With a lookof scorn, she put into my hand a bit of paper, and took anotherpartner. On the paper was pencilled, ‘Heavens!Can I write the word? Is my husband a cow?’

In the first bewilderment of my heated brain, I tried to thinkwhat slanderer could have traced my family to the ignoble animalmentioned above. Vain were my endeavours. At the endof that dance I whispered the colonel to come into thecloak-room, and I showed him the note.

‘There is a syllable wanting,’ said he, with agloomy brow.

‘Hah! What syllable?’ was my inquiry.

‘She asks, can she write the word? And no; you seeshe couldn’t,’ said the colonel, pointing out thepassage.

‘And the word was?’ said I.

‘Cow—cow—coward,’ hissed thepirate-colonel in my ear, and gave me back the note.

Feeling that I must for ever tread the earth a brandedboy,—person I mean,—or that I must clear up myhonour, I demanded to be tried by a court-martial. Thecolonel admitted my right to be tried. Some difficulty wasfound in composing the court, on account of the Emperor ofFrance’s aunt refusing to let him come out. He was tobe the president. Ere yet we had appointed a substitute, hemade his escape over the back-wall, and stood among us, a freemonarch.

The court was held on the grass by the pond. Irecognised, in a certain admiral among my judges, my deadliestfoe. A cocoa-nut had given rise to language that I couldnot brook; but confiding in my innocence, and also in theknowledge that the President of the United States (who sat nexthim) owed me a knife, I braced myself for the ordeal.

It was a solemn spectacle, that court. Two executionerswith pinafores reversed led me in. Under the shade of anumbrella I perceived my bride, supported by the bride of thepirate-colonel. The president, having reproved a littlefemale ensign for tittering, on a matter of life or death, calledupon me to plead, ‘Coward or no coward, guilty or notguilty?’ I pleaded in a firm tone, ‘No cowardand not guilty.’ (The little female ensign beingagain reproved by the president for misconduct, mutinied, leftthe court, and threw stones.)

My implacable enemy, the admiral, conducted the case againstme. The colonel’s bride was called to prove that Ihad remained behind the corner lamp-post during theengagement. I might have been spared the anguish of my ownbride’s being also made a witness to the same point, butthe admiral knew where to wound me. Be still, my soul, nomatter. The colonel was then brought forward with hisevidence.

It was for this point that I had saved myself up, as theturning-point of my case. Shaking myself free of myguards,—who had no business to hold me, the stupids, unlessI was found guilty,—I asked the colonel what he consideredthe first duty of a soldier? Ere he could reply, thePresident of the United States rose and informed the court, thatmy foe, the admiral, had suggested ‘Bravery,’ andthat prompting a witness wasn’t fair. The presidentof the court immediately ordered the admiral’s mouth to befilled with leaves, and tied up with string. I had thesatisfaction of seeing the sentence carried into effect beforethe proceedings went further.

I then took a paper from my trousers-pocket, and asked,‘What do you consider, Col. Redford, the first dutyof a soldier? Is it obedience?’

‘It is,’ said the colonel.

‘Is that paper—please to look at it—in yourhand?’

‘It is,’ said the colonel.

‘Is it a military sketch?’

‘It is,’ said the colonel.

‘Of an engagement?’

‘Quite so,’ said the colonel.

‘Of the late engagement?’

‘Of the late engagement.’

‘Please to describe it, and then hand it to thepresident of the court.’

From that triumphant moment my sufferings and my dangers wereat an end. The court rose up and jumped, on discoveringthat I had strictly obeyed orders. My foe, the admiral, whothough muzzled was malignant yet, contrived to suggest that I wasdishonoured by having quitted the field. But the colonelhimself had done as much, and gave his opinion, upon his word andhonour as a pirate, that when all was lost the field might bequitted without disgrace. I was going to be found ‘Nocoward and not guilty,’ and my blooming bride was going tobe publicly restored to my arms in a procession, when anunlooked-for event disturbed the general rejoicing. Thiswas no other than the Emperor of France’s aunt catchinghold of his hair. The proceedings abruptly terminated, andthe court tumultuously dissolved.

It was when the shades of the next evening but one werebeginning to fall, ere yet the silver beams of Luna touched theearth, that four forms might have been descried slowly advancingtowards the weeping willow on the borders of the pond, the nowdeserted scene of the day before yesterday’s agonies andtriumphs. On a nearer approach, and by a practised eye,these might have been identified as the forms of thepirate-colonel with his bride, and of the day beforeyesterday’s gallant prisoner with his bride.

On the beauteous faces of the Nymphs dejection satenthroned. All four reclined under the willow for someminutes without speaking, till at length the bride of the colonelpoutingly observed, ‘It’s of no use pretending anymore, and we had better give it up.’

‘Hah!’ exclaimed the pirate.‘Pretending?’

‘Don’t go on like that; you worry me,’returned his bride.

The lovely bride of Tinkling echoed the incredibledeclaration. The two warriors exchanged stony glances.

‘If,’ said the bride of the pirate-colonel,‘grown-up people WON’T do what they ought to do, andWILL put us out, what comes of our pretending?’

‘We only get into scrapes,’ said the bride ofTinkling.

‘You know very well,’ pursued the colonel’sbride, ‘that Miss Drowvey wouldn’t fall. Youcomplained of it yourself. And you know how disgracefullythe court-martial ended. As to our marriage; would mypeople acknowledge it at home?’

‘Or would my people acknowledge ours?’ said thebride of Tinkling.

Again the two warriors exchanged stony glances.

‘If you knocked at the door and claimed me, after youwere told to go away,’ said the colonel’s bride,‘you would only have your hair pulled, or your ears, oryour nose.’

‘If you persisted in ringing at the bell and claimingme,’ said the bride of Tinkling to that gentleman,‘you would have things dropped on your head from the windowover the handle, or you would be played upon by thegarden-engine.’

‘And at your own homes,’ resumed the bride of thecolonel, ‘it would be just as bad. You would be sentto bed, or something equally undignified. Again, how wouldyou support us?’

The pirate-colonel replied in a courageous voice, ‘Byrapine!’ But his bride retorted, ‘Suppose thegrown-up people wouldn’t be rapined?’‘Then,’ said the colonel, ‘they should pay thepenalty in blood.’—‘But suppose they shouldobject,’ retorted his bride, ‘and wouldn’t paythe penalty in blood or anything else?’

A mournful silence ensued.

‘Then do you no longer love me, Alice?’ asked thecolonel.

‘Redforth! I am ever thine,’ returned hisbride.

‘Then do you no longer love me, Nettie?’ asked thepresent writer.

‘Tinkling! I am ever thine,’ returned mybride.

We all four embraced. Let me not be misunderstood by thegiddy. The colonel embraced his own bride, and I embracedmine. But two times two make four.

‘Nettie and I,’ said Alice mournfully, ‘havebeen considering our position. The grown-up people are toostrong for us. They make us ridiculous. Besides, theyhave changed the times. William Tinkling’s babybrother was christened yesterday. What took place?Was any king present? Answer, William.’

I said No, unless disguised as Great-uncle Chopper.

‘Any queen?’

There had been no queen that I knew of at our house.There might have been one in the kitchen: but I didn’tthink so, or the servants would have mentioned it.

‘Any fairies?’

None that were visible.

‘We had an idea among us, I think,’ said Alice,with a melancholy smile, ‘we four, that Miss Grimmer wouldprove to be the wicked fairy, and would come in at thechristening with her crutch-stick, and give the child a badgift. Was there anything of that sort? Answer,William.’

I said that ma had said afterwards (and so she had), thatGreat-uncle Chopper’s gift was a shabby one; but shehadn’t said a bad one. She had called it shabby,electrotyped, second-hand, and below his income.

‘It must be the grown-up people who have changed allthis,’ said Alice. ‘Wecouldn’thave changed it, if we had been so inclined, and we never shouldhave been. Or perhaps Miss Grimmer isa wicked fairyafter all, and won’t act up to it because the grown-uppeople have persuaded her not to. Either way, they wouldmake us ridiculous if we told them what we expected.’

‘Tyrants!’ muttered the pirate-colonel.

‘Nay, my Redforth,’ said Alice, ‘say notso. Call not names, my Redforth, or they will apply topa.’

‘Let ’em,’ said the colonel. ‘Ido not care. Who’s he?’

Tinkling here undertook the perilous task of remonstratingwith his lawless friend, who consented to withdraw the moodyexpressions above quoted.

‘What remains for us to do?’ Alice went on in hermild, wise way. ‘We must educate, we must pretend ina new manner, we must wait.’

The colonel clenched his teeth,—four out in front, and apiece of another, and he had been twice dragged to the door of adentist-despot, but had escaped from his guards. ‘Howeducate? How pretend in a new manner? Howwait?’

‘Educate the grown-up people,’ repliedAlice. ‘We part to-night. Yes,Redforth,’—for the colonel tucked up hiscuffs,—‘part to-night! Let us in these nextholidays, now going to begin, throw our thoughts into somethingeducational for the grown-up people, hinting to them how thingsought to be. Let us veil our meaning under a mask ofromance; you, I, and Nettie. William Tinkling being theplainest and quickest writer, shall copy out. Is itagreed?’

The colonel answered sulkily, ‘I don’tmind.’ He then asked, ‘How aboutpretending?’

‘We will pretend,’ said Alice, ‘that we arechildren; not that we are those grown-up people who won’thelp us out as they ought, and who understand us sobadly.’

The colonel, still much dissatisfied, growled, ‘Howabout waiting?’

‘We will wait,’ answered little Alice, takingNettie’s hand in hers, and looking up to the sky, ‘wewill wait—ever constant and true—till the times havegot so changed as that everything helps us out, and nothing makesus ridiculous, and the fairies have come back. We willwait—ever constant and true—till we are eighty,ninety, or one hundred. And then the fairies will senduschildren, and we will help them out, poor pretty littlecreatures, if they pretend ever so much.’

‘So we will, dear,’ said Nettie Ashford, takingher round the waist with both arms and kissing her.‘And now if my husband will go and buy some cherries forus, I have got some money.’

In the friendliest manner I invited the colonel to go with me;but he so far forgot himself as to acknowledge the invitation bykicking out behind, and then lying down on his stomach on thegrass, pulling it up and chewing it. When I came back,however, Alice had nearly brought him out of his vexation, andwas soothing him by telling him how soon we should all beninety.

As we sat under the willow-tree and ate the cherries (fair,for Alice shared them out), we played at being ninety.Nettie complained that she had a bone in her old back, and itmade her hobble; and Alice sang a song in an old woman’sway, but it was very pretty, and we were all merry. Atleast, I don’t know about merry exactly, but allcomfortable.

There was a most tremendous lot of cherries; and Alice alwayshad with her some neat little bag or box or case, to holdthings. In it that night was a tiny wine-glass. SoAlice and Nettie said they would make some cherry-wine to drinkour love at parting.

Each of us had a glassful, and it was delicious; and each ofus drank the toast, ‘Our love at parting.’ Thecolonel drank his wine last; and it got into my head directlythat it got into his directly. Anyhow, his eyes rolledimmediately after he had turned the glass upside down; and hetook me on one side and proposed in a hoarse whisper, that weshould ‘Cut ‘em out still.’

‘How did he mean?’ I asked my lawless friend.

‘Cut our brides out,’ said the colonel, ‘andthen cut our way, without going down a single turning, bang tothe Spanish main!’

We might have tried it, though I didn’t think it wouldanswer; only we looked round and saw that there was nothing butmoon-light under the willow-tree, and that our pretty, prettywives were gone. We burst out crying. The colonelgave in second, and came to first; but he gave in strong.

We were ashamed of our red eyes, and hung about forhalf-an-hour to whiten them. Likewise a piece of chalkround the rims, I doing the colonel’s, and he mine, butafterwards found in the bedroom looking-glass not natural,besides inflammation. Our conversation turned on beingninety. The colonel told me he had a pair of boots thatwanted soling and heeling; but he thought it hardly worth whileto mention it to his father, as he himself should so soon beninety, when he thought shoes would be more convenient. Thecolonel also told me, with his hand upon his hip, that he felthimself already getting on in life, and turning rheumatic.And I told him the same. And when they said at our house atsupper (they are always bothering about something) that Istooped, I felt so glad!

This is the end of the beginning-part that you were to believemost.

PART II.
ROMANCE. FROM THE PEN OF MISS ALICERAINBIRD [258]

There was once a king, and he had aqueen; and he was the manliest of his sex, and she was theloveliest of hers. The king was, in his private profession,under government. The queen’s father had been amedical man out of town.

They had nineteen children, and were always having more.Seventeen of these children took care of the baby; and Alicia,the eldest, took care of them all. Their ages varied fromseven years to seven months.

Let us now resume our story.

One day the king was going to the office, when he stopped atthe fishmonger’s to buy a pound and a half of salmon nottoo near the tail, which the queen (who was a carefulhousekeeper) had requested him to send home. Mr. Pickles,the fishmonger, said, ‘Certainly, sir; is there any otherarticle? Good-morning.’

The king went on towards the office in a melancholy mood; forquarter-day was such a long way off, and several of the dearchildren were growing out of their clothes. He had notproceeded far, when Mr. Pickles’s errand-boy came runningafter him, and said, ‘Sir, you didn’t notice the oldlady in our shop.’

‘What old lady?’ inquired the king. ‘Isaw none.’

Now the king had not seen any old lady, because this old ladyhad been invisible to him, though visible to Mr. Pickles’sboy. Probably because he messed and splashed the waterabout to that degree, and flopped the pairs of soles down in thatviolent manner, that, if she had not been visible to him, hewould have spoilt her clothes.

Just then the old lady came trotting up. She was dressedin shot-silk of the richest quality, smelling of driedlavender.

‘King Watkins the First, I believe?’ said the oldlady.

‘Watkins,’ replied the king, ‘is myname.’

‘Papa, if I am not mistaken, of the beautiful PrincessAlicia?’ said the old lady.

‘And of eighteen other darlings,’ replied theking.

‘Listen. You are going to the office,’ saidthe old lady.

It instantly flashed upon the king that she must be a fairy,or how could she know that?

‘You are right,’ said the old lady, answering histhoughts. ‘I am the good Fairy Grandmarina.Attend! When you return home to dinner, politely invite thePrincess Alicia to have some of the salmon you bought justnow.’

‘It may disagree with her,’ said the king.

The old lady became so very angry at this absurd idea, thatthe king was quite alarmed, and humbly begged her pardon.

‘We hear a great deal too much about this thingdisagreeing, and that thing disagreeing,’ said the oldlady, with the greatest contempt it was possible toexpress. ‘Don’t be greedy. I think youwant it all yourself.’

The king hung his head under this reproof, and said hewouldn’t talk about things disagreeing any more.

‘Be good, then,’ said the Fairy Grandmarina,‘and don’t. When the beautiful Princess Aliciaconsents to partake of the salmon,—as I think shewill,—you will find she will leave a fish-bone on herplate. Tell her to dry it, and to rub it, and to polish ittill it shines like mother-of-pearl, and to take care of it as apresent from me.’

‘Is that all?’ asked the king.

‘Don’t be impatient, sir,’ returned theFairy Grandmarina, scolding him severely.‘Don’t catch people short, before they have donespeaking. Just the way with you grown-up persons. Youare always doing it.’

The king again hung his head, and said he wouldn’t do soany more.

‘Be good, then,’ said the Fairy Grandmarina,‘and don’t! Tell the Princess Alicia, with mylove, that the fish-bone is a magic present which can only beused once; but that it will bring her, that once, whatever shewishes for, PROVIDED SHE WISHES FOR IT ATTHE RIGHT TIME. That is the message. Take careof it.’

The king was beginning, ‘Might I ask the reason?’when the fairy became absolutely furious.

‘Willyou be good, sir?’ she exclaimed,stamping her foot on the ground. ‘The reason forthis, and the reason for that, indeed! You are alwayswanting the reason. No reason. There! Hoitytoity me! I am sick of your grown-up reasons.’

The king was extremely frightened by the old lady’sflying into such a passion, and said he was very sorry to haveoffended her, and he wouldn’t ask for reasons any more.

‘Be good, then,’ said the old lady, ‘anddon’t!’

With those words, Grandmarina vanished, and the king went onand on and on, till he came to the office. There he wroteand wrote and wrote, till it was time to go home again.Then he politely invited the Princess Alicia, as the fairy haddirected him, to partake of the salmon. And when she hadenjoyed it very much, he saw the fish-bone on her plate, as thefairy had told him he would, and he delivered the fairy’smessage, and the Princess Alicia took care to dry the bone, andto rub it, and to polish it, till it shone likemother-of-pearl.

And so, when the queen was going to get up in the morning, shesaid, ‘O, dear me, dear me; my head, my head!’ andthen she fainted away.

The Princess Alicia, who happened to be looking in at thechamber-door, asking about breakfast, was very much alarmed whenshe saw her royal mamma in this state, and she rang the bell forPeggy, which was the name of the lord chamberlain. Butremembering where the smelling-bottle was, she climbed on a chairand got it; and after that she climbed on another chair by thebedside, and held the smelling-bottle to the queen’s nose;and after that she jumped down and got some water; and after thatshe jumped up again and wetted the queen’s forehead; and,in short, when the lord chamberlain came in, that dear old womansaid to the little princess, ‘What a trot you are! Icouldn’t have done it better myself!’

But that was not the worst of the good queen’sillness. O, no! She was very ill indeed, for a longtime. The Princess Alicia kept the seventeen young princesand princesses quiet, and dressed and undressed and danced thebaby, and made the kettle boil, and heated the soup, and sweptthe hearth, and poured out the medicine, and nursed the queen,and did all that ever she could, and was as busy, busy, busy asbusy could be; for there were not many servants at that palacefor three reasons: because the king was short of money, because arise in his office never seemed to come, and because quarter-daywas so far off that it looked almost as far off and as little asone of the stars.

But on the morning when the queen fainted away, where was themagic fish-bone? Why, there it was in the PrincessAlicia’s pocket! She had almost taken it out to bringthe queen to life again, when she put it back, and looked for thesmelling-bottle.

After the queen had come out of her swoon that morning, andwas dozing, the Princess Alicia hurried up-stairs to tell a mostparticular secret to a most particularly confidential friend ofhers, who was a duchess. People did suppose her to be adoll; but she was really a duchess, though nobody knew it exceptthe princess.

This most particular secret was the secret about the magicfish-bone, the history of which was well known to the duchess,because the princess told her everything. The princesskneeled down by the bed on which the duchess was lying,full-dressed and wide awake, and whispered the secret toher. The duchess smiled and nodded. People might havesupposed that she never smiled and nodded; but she often did,though nobody knew it except the princess.

Then the Princess Alicia hurried down-stairs again, to keepwatch in the queen’s room. She often kept watch byherself in the queen’s room; but every evening, while theillness lasted, she sat there watching with the king. Andevery evening the king sat looking at her with a cross look,wondering why she never brought out the magic fish-bone. Asoften as she noticed this, she ran up-stairs, whispered thesecret to the duchess over again, and said to the duchessbesides, ‘They think we children never have a reason or ameaning!’ And the duchess, though the mostfashionable duchess that ever was heard of, winked her eye.

‘Alicia,’ said the king, one evening, when shewished him good-night.

‘Yes, papa.’

‘What is become of the magic fish-bone?’

‘In my pocket, papa!’

‘I thought you had lost it?’

‘O, no, papa!’

‘Or forgotten it?’

‘No, indeed, papa.’

And so another time the dreadful little snapping pug-dog, nextdoor, made a rush at one of the young princes as he stood on thesteps coming home from school, and terrified him out of his wits;and he put his hand through a pane of glass, and bled, bled,bled. When the seventeen other young princes and princessessaw him bleed, bleed, bleed, they were terrified out of theirwits too, and screamed themselves black in their seventeen facesall at once. But the Princess Alicia put her hands over alltheir seventeen mouths, one after another, and persuaded them tobe quiet because of the sick queen. And then she put thewounded prince’s hand in a basin of fresh cold water, whilethey stared with their twice seventeen are thirty-four, put downfour and carry three, eyes, and then she looked in the hand forbits of glass, and there were fortunately no bits of glassthere. And then she said to two chubby-legged princes, whowere sturdy though small, ‘Bring me in the royal rag-bag: Imust snip and stitch and cut and contrive.’ So thesetwo young princes tugged at the royal rag-bag, and lugged it in;and the Princess Alicia sat down on the floor, with a large pairof scissors and a needle and thread, and snipped and stitched andcut and contrived, and made a bandage, and put it on, and itfitted beautifully; and so when it was all done, she saw the kingher papa looking on by the door.

‘Alicia.’

‘Yes, papa.’

‘What have you been doing?’

‘Snipping, stitching, cutting, and contriving,papa.’

‘Where is the magic fish-bone?’

‘In my pocket, papa.’

‘I thought you had lost it?’

‘O, no, papa.’

‘Or forgotten it?’

‘No, indeed, papa.’

After that, she ran up-stairs to the duchess, and told herwhat had passed, and told her the secret over again; and theduchess shook her flaxen curls, and laughed with her rosylips.

Well! and so another time the baby fell under the grate.The seventeen young princes and princesses were used to it; forthey were almost always falling under the grate or down thestairs; but the baby was not used to it yet, and it gave him aswelled face and a black eye. The way the poor littledarling came to tumble was, that he was out of the PrincessAlicia’s lap just as she was sitting, in a great coarseapron that quite smothered her, in front of the kitchen-fire,beginning to peel the turnips for the broth for dinner; and theway she came to be doing that was, that the king’s cook hadrun away that morning with her own true love, who was a very tallbut very tipsy soldier. Then the seventeen young princesand princesses, who cried at everything that happened, cried androared. But the Princess Alicia (who couldn’t helpcrying a little herself) quietly called to them to be still, onaccount of not throwing back the queen up-stairs, who was fastgetting well, and said, ‘Hold your tongues, you wickedlittle monkeys, every one of you, while I examinebaby!’ Then she examined baby, and found that hehadn’t broken anything; and she held cold iron to his poordear eye, and smoothed his poor dear face, and he presently fellasleep in her arms. Then she said to the seventeen princesand princesses, ‘I am afraid to let him down yet, lest heshould wake and feel pain; be good, and you shall all becooks.’ They jumped for joy when they heard that, andbegan making themselves cooks’ caps out of oldnewspapers. So to one she gave the salt-box, and to one shegave the barley, and to one she gave the herbs, and to one shegave the turnips, and to one she gave the carrots, and to one shegave the onions, and to one she gave the spice-box, till theywere all cooks, and all running about at work, she sitting in themiddle, smothered in the great coarse apron, nursing baby.By and by the broth was done; and the baby woke up, smiling, likean angel, and was trusted to the sedatest princess to hold, whilethe other princes and princesses were squeezed into a far-offcorner to look at the Princess Alicia turning out the saucepanfulof broth, for fear (as they were always getting into trouble)they should get splashed and scalded. When the broth cametumbling out, steaming beautifully, and smelling like a nosegaygood to eat, they clapped their hands. That made the babyclap his hands; and that, and his looking as if he had a comictoothache, made all the princes and princesses laugh. Sothe Princess Alicia said, ‘Laugh and be good; and afterdinner we will make him a nest on the floor in a corner, and heshall sit in his nest and see a dance of eighteencooks.’ That delighted the young princes andprincesses, and they ate up all the broth, and washed up all theplates and dishes, and cleared away, and pushed the table into acorner; and then they in their cooks’ caps, and thePrincess Alicia in the smothering coarse apron that belonged tothe cook that had run away with her own true love that was thevery tall but very tipsy soldier, danced a dance of eighteencooks before the angelic baby, who forgot his swelled face andhis black eye, and crowed with joy.

And so then, once more the Princess Alicia saw King Watkinsthe First, her father, standing in the doorway looking on, and hesaid, ‘What have you been doing, Alicia?’

‘Cooking and contriving, papa.’

‘What else have you been doing, Alicia?’

‘Keeping the children light-hearted, papa.’

‘Where is the magic fish-bone, Alicia?

‘In my pocket, papa.’

‘I thought you had lost it?’

‘O, no, papa!’

‘Or forgotten it?’

‘No, indeed, papa.’

The king then sighed so heavily, and seemed so low-spirited,and sat down so miserably, leaning his head upon his hand, andhis elbow upon the kitchen-table pushed away in the corner, thatthe seventeen princes and princesses crept softly out of thekitchen, and left him alone with the Princess Alicia and theangelic baby.

‘What is the matter, papa?’

‘I am dreadfully poor, my child.’

‘Have you no money at all, papa?’

‘None, my child.’

‘Is there no way of getting any, papa?’

‘No way,’ said the king. ‘I have triedvery hard, and I have tried all ways.’

When she heard those last words, the Princess Alicia began toput her hand into the pocket where she kept the magicfish-bone.

‘Papa,’ said she, ‘when we have tried veryhard, and tried all ways, we must have done our very, verybest?’

‘No doubt, Alicia.’

‘When we have done our very, very best, papa, and thatis not enough, then I think the right time must have come forasking help of others.’ This was the very secretconnected with the magic fish-bone, which she had found out forherself from the good Fairy Grandmarina’s words, and whichshe had so often whispered to her beautiful and fashionablefriend, the duchess.

So she took out of her pocket the magic fish-bone, that hadbeen dried and rubbed and polished till it shone likemother-of-pearl; and she gave it one little kiss, and wished itwas quarter-day. And immediately it wasquarter-day;and the king’s quarter’s salary came rattling downthe chimney, and bounced into the middle of the floor.

But this was not half of what happened,—no, not aquarter; for immediately afterwards the good Fairy Grandmarinacame riding in, in a carriage and four (peacocks), with Mr.Pickles’s boy up behind, dressed in silver and gold, with acocked-hat, powdered-hair, pink silk stockings, a jewelled cane,and a nosegay. Down jumped Mr. Pickles’s boy, withhis cocked-hat in his hand, and wonderfully polite (beingentirely changed by enchantment), and handed Grandmarina out; andthere she stood, in her rich shot-silk smelling of driedlavender, fanning herself with a sparkling fan.

‘Alicia, my dear,’ said this charming old fairy,‘how do you do? I hope I see you pretty well?Give me a kiss.’

The Princess Alicia embraced her; and then Grandmarina turnedto the king, and said rather sharply, ‘Are yougood?’ The king said he hoped so.

‘I suppose you know the reason now, why mygod-daughter here,’ kissing the princess again, ‘didnot apply to the fish-bone sooner?’ said the fairy.

The king made a shy bow.

‘Ah! but you didn’t then?’ said thefairy.

The king made a shyer bow.

‘Any more reasons to ask for?’ said the fairy.

The king said, No, and he was very sorry.

‘Be good, then,’ said the fairy, ‘and livehappy ever afterwards.’

Then Grandmarina waved her fan, and the queen came in mostsplendidly dressed; and the seventeen young princes andprincesses, no longer grown out of their clothes, came in, newlyfitted out from top to toe, with tucks in everything to admit ofits being let out. After that, the fairy tapped thePrincess Alicia with her fan; and the smothering coarse apronflew away, and she appeared exquisitely dressed, like a littlebride, with a wreath of orange-flowers and a silver veil.After that, the kitchen dresser changed of itself into awardrobe, made of beautiful woods and gold and looking glass,which was full of dresses of all sorts, all for her and allexactly fitting her. After that, the angelic baby came in,running alone, with his face and eye not a bit the worse, butmuch the better. Then Grandmarina begged to be introducedto the duchess; and, when the duchess was brought down, manycompliments passed between them.

A little whispering took place between the fairy and theduchess; and then the fairy said out loud, ‘Yes, I thoughtshe would have told you.’ Grandmarina then turned tothe king and queen, and said, ‘We are going in search ofPrince Certainpersonio. The pleasure of your company isrequested at church in half an hour precisely.’ Soshe and the Princess Alicia got into the carriage; and Mr.Pickles’s boy handed in the duchess, who sat by herself onthe opposite seat; and then Mr. Pickles’s boy put up thesteps and got up behind, and the peacocks flew away with theirtails behind.

Prince Certainpersonio was sitting by himself, eatingbarley-sugar, and waiting to be ninety. When he saw thepeacocks, followed by the carriage, coming in at the window itimmediately occurred to him that something uncommon was going tohappen.

‘Prince,’ said Grandmarina, ‘I bring youyour bride.’ The moment the fairy said those words,Prince Certainpersonio’s face left off being sticky, andhis jacket and corduroys changed to peach-bloom velvet, and hishair curled, and a cap and feather flew in like a bird andsettled on his head. He got into the carriage by thefairy’s invitation; and there he renewed his acquaintancewith the duchess, whom he had seen before.

In the church were the prince’s relations and friends,and the Princess Alicia’s relations and friends, and theseventeen princes and princesses, and the baby, and a crowd ofthe neighbours. The marriage was beautiful beyondexpression. The duchess was bridesmaid, and beheld theceremony from the pulpit, where she was supported by the cushionof the desk.

Grandmarina gave a magnificent wedding-feast afterwards, inwhich there was everything and more to eat, and everything andmore to drink. The wedding-cake was delicately ornamentedwith white satin ribbons, frosted silver, and white lilies, andwas forty-two yards round.

When Grandmarina had drunk her love to the young couple, andPrince Certainpersonio had made a speech, and everybody hadcried, Hip, hip, hip, hurrah! Grandmarina announced to the kingand queen that in future there would be eight quarter-days inevery year, except in leap-year, when there would be ten.She then turned to Certainpersonio and Alicia, and said,‘My dears, you will have thirty-five children, and theywill all be good and beautiful. Seventeen of your childrenwill be boys, and eighteen will be girls. The hair of thewhole of your children will curl naturally. They will neverhave the measles, and will have recovered from the whooping-coughbefore being born.’

On hearing such good news, everybody cried out ‘Hip,hip, hip, hurrah!’ again.

‘It only remains,’ said Grandmarina in conclusion,‘to make an end of the fish-bone.’

So she took it from the hand of the Princess Alicia, and itinstantly flew down the throat of the dreadful little snappingpug-dog, next door, and choked him, and he expired inconvulsions.

PART III.
ROMANCE. FROM THE PEN OF LIEUT.-COL.ROBIN REDFORTH [266]

The subject of our presentnarrative would appear to have devoted himself to the pirateprofession at a comparatively early age. We find him incommand of a splendid schooner of one hundred guns loaded to themuzzle, ere yet he had had a party in honour of his tenthbirthday.

It seems that our hero, considering himself spited by aLatin-grammar master, demanded the satisfaction due from one manof honour to another.—Not getting it, he privately withdrewhis haughty spirit from such low company, bought a second-handpocket-pistol, folded up some sandwiches in a paper bag, made abottle of Spanish liquorice-water, and entered on a career ofvalour.

It were tedious to follow Boldheart (for such was his name)through the commencing stages of his story. Suffice it,that we find him bearing the rank of Capt. Boldheart, recliningin full uniform on a crimson hearth-rug spread out upon thequarter-deck of his schooner ‘The Beauty,’ in theChina seas. It was a lovely evening; and, as his crew laygrouped about him, he favoured them with the followingmelody:

O landsmen are folly!
O pirates are jolly!
O diddleum Dolly,
             Di!

         Chorus.—Heaveyo.

The soothing effect of these animated sounds floating over thewaters, as the common sailors united their rough voices to takeup the rich tones of Boldheart, may be more easily conceived thandescribed.

It was under these circumstances that the look-out at themasthead gave the word, ‘Whales!’

All was now activity.

‘Where away?’ cried Capt. Boldheart, startingup.

‘On the larboard bow, sir,’ replied the fellow atthe masthead, touching his hat. For such was the height ofdiscipline on board of ‘The Beauty,’ that, even atthat height, he was obliged to mind it, or be shot through thehead.

‘This adventure belongs to me,’ saidBoldheart. ‘Boy, my harpoon. Let no manfollow;’ and leaping alone into his boat, the captain rowedwith admirable dexterity in the direction of the monster.

All was now excitement.

‘He nears him!’ said an elderly seaman, followingthe captain through his spy-glass.

‘He strikes him!’ said another seaman, a merestripling, but also with a spy-glass.

‘He tows him towards us!’ said another seaman, aman in the full vigour of life, but also with a spy-glass.

In fact, the captain was seen approaching, with the huge bulkfollowing. We will not dwell on the deafening cries of‘Boldheart! Boldheart!’ with which he was received,when, carelessly leaping on the quarter-deck, he presented hisprize to his men. They afterwards made two thousand fourhundred and seventeen pound ten and sixpence by it.

Ordering the sail to be braced up, the captain now stoodW.N.W. ‘The Beauty’ flew rather than floatedover the dark blue waters. Nothing particular occurred fora fortnight, except taking, with considerable slaughter, fourSpanish galleons, and a snow from South America, all richlyladen. Inaction began to tell upon the spirits of themen. Capt. Boldheart called all hands aft, and said,‘My lads, I hear there are discontented ones amongye. Let any such stand forth.’

After some murmuring, in which the expressions, ‘Ay, ay,sir!’ ‘Union Jack,’ ‘Avast,’‘Starboard,’ ‘Port,’‘Bowsprit,’ and similar indications of a mutinousundercurrent, though subdued, were audible, Bill Boozey, captainof the foretop, came out from the rest. His form was thatof a giant, but he quailed under the captain’s eye.

‘What are your wrongs?’ said the captain.

‘Why, d’ye see, Capt. Boldheart,’ repliedthe towering manner, ‘I’ve sailed, man and boy, formany a year, but I never yet know’d the milk served out forthe ship’s company’s teas to be so sour as ‘tisaboard this craft.’

At this moment the thrilling cry, ‘Man overboard!’announced to the astonished crew that Boozey, in stepping back,as the captain (in mere thoughtfulness) laid his hand upon thefaithful pocket-pistol which he wore in his belt, had lost hisbalance, and was struggling with the foaming tide.

All was now stupefaction.

But with Capt. Boldheart, to throw off his uniform coat,regardless of the various rich orders with which it wasdecorated, and to plunge into the sea after the drowning giant,was the work of a moment. Maddening was the excitement whenboats were lowered; intense the joy when the captain was seenholding up the drowning man with his teeth; deafening thecheering when both were restored to the main deck of ‘TheBeauty.’ And, from the instant of his changing hiswet clothes for dry ones, Capt. Boldheart had no such devotedthough humble friend as William Boozey.

Boldheart now pointed to the horizon, and called the attentionof his crew to the taper spars of a ship lying snug in harbourunder the guns of a fort.

‘She shall be ours at sunrise,’ said he.‘Serve out a double allowance of grog, and prepare foraction.’

All was now preparation.

When morning dawned, after a sleepless night, it was seen thatthe stranger was crowding on all sail to come out of the harbourand offer battle. As the two ships came nearer to eachother, the stranger fired a gun and hoisted Roman colours.Boldheart then perceived her to be the Latin-grammarmaster’s bark. Such indeed she was, and had beentacking about the world in unavailing pursuit, from the time ofhis first taking to a roving life.

Boldheart now addressed his men, promising to blow them up ifhe should feel convinced that their reputation required it, andgiving orders that the Latin-grammar master should be takenalive. He then dismissed them to their quarters, and thefight began with a broadside from ‘The Beauty.’She then veered around, and poured in another. ‘TheScorpion’ (so was the bark of the Latin-grammar masterappropriately called) was not slow to return her fire; and aterrific cannonading ensued, in which the guns of ‘TheBeauty’ did tremendous execution.

The Latin-grammar master was seen upon the poop, in the midstof the smoke and fire, encouraging his men. To do himjustice, he was no craven, though his white hat, his short graytrousers, and his long snuff-coloured surtout reaching to hisheels (the self-same coat in which he had spited Boldheart),contrasted most unfavourably with the brilliant uniform of thelatter. At this moment, Boldheart, seizing a pike andputting himself at the head of his men, gave the word toboard.

A desperate conflict ensued in the hammock-nettings,—orsomewhere in about that direction,—until the Latin-grammarmaster, having all his masts gone, his hull and rigging shotthrough, and seeing Boldheart slashing a path towards him, hauleddown his flag himself, gave up his sword to Boldheart, and askedfor quarter. Scarce had he been put into thecaptain’s boat, ere ‘The Scorpion’ went downwith all on board.

On Capt. Boldheart’s now assembling his men, acircumstance occurred. He found it necessary with one blowof his cutlass to kill the cook, who, having lost his brother inthe late action, was making at the Latin-grammar master in aninfuriated state, intent on his destruction with acarving-knife.

Capt. Boldheart then turned to the Latin-grammar master,severely reproaching him with his perfidy, and put it to his crewwhat they considered that a master who spited a boy deserved.

They answered with one voice, ‘Death.’

‘It may be so,’ said the captain; ‘but itshall never be said that Boldheart stained his hour of triumphwith the blood of his enemy. Prepare the cutter.’

The cutter was immediately prepared.

‘Without taking your life,’ said the captain,‘I must yet for ever deprive you of the power of spitingother boys. I shall turn you adrift in this boat. Youwill find in her two oars, a compass, a bottle of rum, a smallcask of water, a piece of pork, a bag of biscuit, and my Latingrammar. Go! and spite the natives, if you can findany.’

Deeply conscious of this bitter sarcasm, the unhappy wretchwas put into the cutter, and was soon left far behind. Hemade no effort to row, but was seen lying on his back with hislegs up, when last made out by the ship’s telescopes.

A stiff breeze now beginning to blow, Capt. Boldheart gaveorders to keep her S.S.W., easing her a little during the nightby falling off a point or two W. by W., or even by W.S., if shecomplained much. He then retired for the night, having intruth much need of repose. In addition to the fatigues hehad undergone, this brave officer had received sixteen wounds inthe engagement, but had not mentioned it.

In the morning a white squall came on, and was succeeded byother squalls of various colours. It thundered andlightened heavily for six weeks. Hurricanes then set in fortwo months. Waterspouts and tornadoes followed. Theoldest sailor on board—and he was a very old one—hadnever seen such weather. ‘The Beauty’ lost allidea where she was, and the carpenter reported six feet two ofwater in the hold. Everybody fell senseless at the pumpsevery day.

Provisions now ran very low. Our hero put the crew onshort allowance, and put himself on shorter allowance than anyman in the ship. But his spirit kept him fat. In thisextremity, the gratitude of Boozey, the captain of the foretop,whom our readers may remember, was truly affecting. Theloving though lowly William repeatedly requested to be killed,and preserved for the captain’s table.

We now approach a change of affairs. One day during agleam of sunshine, and when the weather had moderated, the man atthe masthead—too weak now to touch his hat, besides itshaving been blown away—called out,

‘Savages!’

All was now expectation.

Presently fifteen hundred canoes, each paddled by twentysavages, were seen advancing in excellent order. They wereof a light green colour (the savages were), and sang, with greatenergy, the following strain:

Choo a choo a choo tooth.
  Muntch, muntch. Nycey!
Choo a choo a choo tooth.
  Muntch, muntch. Nycey!

As the shades of night were by this time closing in, theseexpressions were supposed to embody this simple people’sviews of the evening hymn. But it too soon appeared thatthe song was a translation of ‘For what we are going toreceive,’ &c.

The chief, imposingly decorated with feathers of livelycolours, and having the majestic appearance of a fighting parrot,no sooner understood (he understood English perfectly) that theship was ‘The Beauty,’ Capt. Boldheart, than he fellupon his face on the deck, and could not be persuaded to riseuntil the captain had lifted him up, and told him hewouldn’t hurt him. All the rest of the savages alsofell on their faces with marks of terror, and had also to belifted up one by one. Thus the fame of the great Boldhearthad gone before him, even among these children of Nature.

Turtles and oysters were now produced in astonishing numbers;and on these and yams the people made a hearty meal. Afterdinner the chief told Capt. Boldheart that there was betterfeeding up at the village, and that he would be glad to take himand his officers there. Apprehensive of treachery,Boldheart ordered his boat’s crew to attend him completelyarmed. And well were it for other commanders if theirprecautions—but let us not anticipate.

When the canoes arrived at the beach, the darkness of thenight was illumined by the light of an immense fire.Ordering his boat’s crew (with the intrepid thoughilliterate William at their head) to keep close and be upon theirguard, Boldheart bravely went on, arm in arm with the chief.

But how to depict the captain’s surprise when he found aring of savages singing in chorus that barbarous translation of‘For what we are going to receive,’ &c., whichhas been given above, and dancing hand in hand round theLatin-grammar master, in a hamper with his head shaved, while twosavages floured him, before putting him to the fire to becooked!

Boldheart now took counsel with his officers on the course tobe adopted. In the mean time, the miserable captive neverceased begging pardon and imploring to be delivered. On thegenerous Boldheart’s proposal, it was at length resolvedthat he should not be cooked, but should be allowed to remainraw, on two conditions, namely:

1. That he should never, under any circumstances, presume toteach any boy anything any more.

2. That, if taken back to England, he should pass his life intravelling to find out boys who wanted their exercises done, andshould do their exercises for those boys for nothing, and neversay a word about it.

Drawing the sword from its sheath, Boldheart swore him tothese conditions on its shining blade. The prisoner weptbitterly, and appeared acutely to feel the errors of his pastcareer.

The captain then ordered his boat’s crew to make readyfor a volley, and after firing to re-load quickly.‘And expect a score or two on ye to go head overheels,’ murmured William Boozey; ‘for I’ma-looking at ye.’ With those words, the derisivethough deadly William took a good aim.

‘Fire!’

The ringing voice of Boldheart was lost in the report of theguns and the screeching of the savages. Volley after volleyawakened the numerous echoes. Hundreds of savages werekilled, hundreds wounded, and thousands ran howling into thewoods. The Latin-grammar master had a spare night-cap lenthim, and a long-tail coat, which he wore hind side before.He presented a ludicrous though pitiable appearance, and servehim right.

We now find Capt. Boldheart, with this rescued wretch onboard, standing off for other islands. At one of these, nota cannibal island, but a pork and vegetable one, he married (onlyin fun on his part) the king’s daughter. Here herested some time, receiving from the natives great quantities ofprecious stones, gold dust, elephants’ teeth, and sandalwood, and getting very rich. This, too, though he almostevery day made presents of enormous value to his men.

The ship being at length as full as she could hold of allsorts of valuable things, Boldheart gave orders to weigh theanchor, and turn ‘The Beauty’s’ head towardsEngland. These orders were obeyed with three cheers; andere the sun went down full many a hornpipe had been danced ondeck by the uncouth though agile William.

We next find Capt. Boldheart about three leagues off Madeira,surveying through his spy-glass a stranger of suspiciousappearance making sail towards him. On his firing a gunahead of her to bring her to, she ran up a flag, which heinstantly recognised as the flag from the mast in the back-gardenat home.

Inferring from this, that his father had put to sea to seekhis long-lost son, the captain sent his own boat on board thestranger to inquire if this was so, and, if so, whether hisfather’s intentions were strictly honourable. Theboat came back with a present of greens and fresh meat, andreported that the stranger was ‘The Family,’ oftwelve hundred tons, and had not only the captain’s fatheron board, but also his mother, with the majority of his aunts anduncles, and all his cousins. It was further reported toBoldheart that the whole of these relations had expressedthemselves in a becoming manner, and were anxious to embrace himand thank him for the glorious credit he had done them.Boldheart at once invited them to breakfast next morning on board‘The Beauty,’ and gave orders for a brilliant ballthat should last all day.

It was in the course of the night that the captain discoveredthe hopelessness of reclaiming the Latin-grammar master.That thankless traitor was found out, as the two ships lay neareach other, communicating with ‘The Family’ bysignals, and offering to give up Boldheart. He was hangedat the yard-arm the first thing in the morning, after having itimpressively pointed out to him by Boldheart that this was whatspiters came to.

The meeting between the captain and his parents was attendedwith tears. His uncles and aunts would have attended theirmeeting with tears too, but he wasn’t going to standthat. His cousins were very much astonished by the size ofhis ship and the discipline of his men, and were greatly overcomeby the splendour of his uniform. He kindly conducted themround the vessel, and pointed out everything worthy ofnotice. He also fired his hundred guns, and found itamusing to witness their alarm.

The entertainment surpassed everything ever seen on boardship, and lasted from ten in the morning until seven the nextmorning. Only one disagreeable incident occurred.Capt. Boldheart found himself obliged to put his cousin Tom inirons, for being disrespectful. On the boy’spromising amendment, however, he was humanely released after afew hours’ close confinement.

Boldheart now took his mother down into the great cabin, andasked after the young lady with whom, it was well known to theworld, he was in love. His mother replied that the objectof his affections was then at school at Margate, for the benefitof sea-bathing (it was the month of September), but that shefeared the young lady’s friends were still opposed to theunion. Boldheart at once resolved, if necessary, to bombardthe town.

Taking the command of his ship with this intention, andputting all but fighting men on board ‘The Family,’with orders to that vessel to keep in company, Boldheart soonanchored in Margate Roads. Here he went ashore well-armed,and attended by his boat’s crew (at their head the faithfulthough ferocious William), and demanded to see the mayor, whocame out of his office.

‘Dost know the name of yon ship, mayor?’ askedBoldheart fiercely.

‘No,’ said the mayor, rubbing his eyes, which hecould scarce believe, when he saw the goodly vessel riding atanchor.

‘She is named “The Beauty,”’ said thecaptain.

‘Hah!’ exclaimed the mayor, with a start.‘And you, then, are Capt. Boldheart?’

‘The same.’

A pause ensued. The mayor trembled.

‘Now, mayor,’ said the captain,‘choose! Help me to my bride, or bebombarded.’

The mayor begged for two hours’ grace, in which to makeinquiries respecting the young lady. Boldheart accorded himbut one; and during that one placed William Boozey sentry overhim, with a drawn sword, and instructions to accompany himwherever he went, and to run him through the body if he showed asign of playing false.

At the end of the hour the mayor re-appeared more dead thanalive, closely waited on by Boozey more alive than dead.

‘Captain,’ said the mayor, ‘I haveascertained that the young lady is going to bathe. Even nowshe waits her turn for a machine. The tide is low, thoughrising. I, in one of our town-boats, shall not besuspected. When she comes forth in her bathing-dress intothe shallow water from behind the hood of the machine, my boatshall intercept her and prevent her return. Do you therest.’

‘Mayor,’ returned Capt. Boldheart, ‘thouhast saved thy town.’

The captain then signalled his boat to take him off, and,steering her himself, ordered her crew to row towards thebathing-ground, and there to rest upon their oars. Allhappened as had been arranged. His lovely bride came forth,the mayor glided in behind her, she became confused, and hadfloated out of her depth, when, with one skilful touch of therudder and one quivering stroke from the boat’s crew, heradoring Boldheart held her in his strong arms. There hershrieks of terror were changed to cries of joy.

Before ‘The Beauty’ could get under way, thehoisting of all the flags in the town and harbour, and theringing of all the bells, announced to the brave Boldheart thathe had nothing to fear. He therefore determined to bemarried on the spot, and signalled for a clergyman and clerk, whocame off promptly in a sailing-boat named ‘TheSkylark.’ Another great entertainment was then givenon board ‘The Beauty,’ in the midst of which themayor was called out by a messenger. He returned with thenews that government had sent down to know whether Capt.Boldheart, in acknowledgment of the great services he had donehis country by being a pirate, would consent to be made alieutenant-colonel. For himself he would have spurned theworthless boon; but his bride wished it, and he consented.

Only one thing further happened before the good ship‘Family’ was dismissed, with rich presents to all onboard. It is painful to record (but such is human nature insome cousins) that Capt. Boldheart’s unmannerly Cousin Tomwas actually tied up to receive three dozen with a rope’send ‘for cheekiness and making game,’ when Capt.Boldheart’s lady begged for him, and he was spared.‘The Beauty’ then refitted, and the captain and hisbride departed for the Indian Ocean to enjoy themselves forevermore.

PART IV.
ROMANCE FROM THE PEN OF MISS NETTIEASHFORD [274]

There is a country, which I willshow you when I get into maps, where the children have everythingtheir own way. It is a most delightful country to livein. The grown-up people are obliged to obey the children,and are never allowed to sit up to supper, except on theirbirthdays. The children order them to make jam and jellyand marmalade, and tarts and pies and puddings, and all manner ofpastry. If they say they won’t, they are put in thecorner till they do. They are sometimes allowed to havesome; but when they have some, they generally have powders giventhem afterwards.

One of the inhabitants of this country, a truly sweet youngcreature of the name of Mrs. Orange, had the misfortune to besadly plagued by her numerous family. Her parents requireda great deal of looking after, and they had connections andcompanions who were scarcely ever out of mischief. So Mrs.Orange said to herself, ‘I really cannot be troubled withthese torments any longer: I must put them all toschool.’

Mrs. Orange took off her pinafore, and dressed herself verynicely, and took up her baby, and went out to call upon anotherlady of the name of Mrs. Lemon, who kept a preparatoryestablishment. Mrs. Orange stood upon the scraper to pullat the bell, and give a ring-ting-ting.

Mrs. Lemon’s neat little housemaid, pulling up her socksas she came along the passage, answered the ring-ting-ting.

‘Good-morning,’ said Mrs. Orange.‘Fine day. How do you do? Mrs. Lemon athome!’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘Will you say Mrs. Orange and baby?’

‘Yes, ma’am. Walk in.’

Mrs. Orange’s baby was a very fine one, and real wax allover. Mrs. Lemon’s baby was leather and bran.However, when Mrs. Lemon came into the drawing-room with her babyin her arms, Mrs. Orange said politely,‘Good-morning. Fine day. How do you do?And how is little Tootleumboots?’

‘Well, she is but poorly. Cutting her teeth,ma’am,’ said Mrs. Lemon.

‘O, indeed, ma’am!’ said Mrs. Orange.‘No fits, I hope?’

‘No, ma’am.’

‘How many teeth has she, ma’am?’

‘Five, ma’am.’

‘My Emilia, ma’am, has eight,’ said Mrs.Orange. ‘Shall we lay them on the mantelpiece side byside, while we converse?’

‘By all means, ma’am,’ said Mrs.Lemon. ‘Hem!’

‘The first question is, ma’am,’ said Mrs.Orange, ‘I don’t bore you?’

‘Not in the least, ma’am,’ said Mrs.Lemon. ‘Far from it, I assure you.’

‘Then pray haveyou,’ said Mrs.Orange,—‘haveyou any vacancies?’

‘Yes, ma’am. How many might yourequire?’

‘Why, the truth is, ma’am,’ said Mrs.Orange, ‘I have come to the conclusion that mychildren,’—O, I forgot to say that they call thegrown-up people children in that country!—‘that mychildren are getting positively too much for me. Let mesee. Two parents, two intimate friends of theirs, onegodfather, two godmothers, and an aunt. Haveyou asmany as eight vacancies?’

‘I have just eight, ma’am,’ said Mrs.Lemon.

‘Most fortunate! Terms moderate, Ithink?’

‘Very moderate, ma’am.’

‘Diet good, I believe?’

‘Excellent, ma’am.’

‘Unlimited?’

‘Unlimited.’

‘Most satisfactory! Corporal punishment dispensedwith?’

‘Why, we do occasionally shake,’ said Mrs. Lemon,‘and we have slapped. But only in extremecases.’

‘CouldI, ma’am,’ said Mrs.Orange,—‘couldI see theestablishment?’

‘With the greatest of pleasure, ma’am,’ saidMrs. Lemon.

Mrs. Lemon took Mrs. Orange into the schoolroom, where therewere a number of pupils. ‘Stand up, children,’said Mrs. Lemon; and they all stood up.

Mrs. Orange whispered to Mrs. Lemon, ‘There is a pale,bald child, with red whiskers, in disgrace. Might I askwhat he has done?’

‘Come here, White,’ said Mrs. Lemon, ‘andtell this lady what you have been doing.’

‘Betting on horses,’ said White sulkily.

‘Are you sorry for it, you naughty child?’ saidMrs. Lemon.

‘No,’ said White. ‘Sorry to lose, butshouldn’t be sorry to win.’

‘There’s a vicious boy for you,ma’am,’ said Mrs. Lemon. ‘Go along withyou, sir. This is Brown, Mrs. Orange. O, a sad case,Brown’s! Never knows when he has had enough.Greedy. How is your gout, sir?’

‘Bad,’ said Brown.

‘What else can you expect?’ said Mrs. Lemon.‘Your stomach is the size of two. Go and takeexercise directly. Mrs. Black, come here to me. Now,here is a child, Mrs. Orange, ma’am, who is always atplay. She can’t be kept at home a single daytogether; always gadding about and spoiling her clothes.Play, play, play, play, from morning to night, and to morningagain. How can she expect to improve?’

‘Don’t expect to improve,’ sulked Mrs.Black. ‘Don’t want to.’

‘There is a specimen of her temper, ma’am,’said Mrs. Lemon. ‘To see her when she is tearingabout, neglecting everything else, you would suppose her to be atleast good-humoured. But bless you! ma’am, she is aspert and flouncing a minx as ever you met with in all yourdays!’

‘You must have a great deal of trouble with them,ma’am,’ said Mrs. Orange.

‘Ah, I have, indeed, ma’am!’ said Mrs.Lemon. ‘What with their tempers, what with theirquarrels, what with their never knowing what’s good forthem, and what with their always wanting to domineer, deliver mefrom these unreasonable children!’

‘Well, I wish you good-morning, ma’am,’ saidMrs. Orange.

‘Well, I wish you good-morning, ma’am,’ saidMrs. Lemon.

So Mrs. Orange took up her baby and went home, and told thefamily that plagued her so that they were all going to be sent toschool. They said they didn’t want to go to school;but she packed up their boxes, and packed them off.

‘O dear me, dear me! Rest and be thankful!’said Mrs. Orange, throwing herself back in her littlearm-chair. ‘Those troublesome troubles are got ridof, please the pigs!’

Just then another lady, named Mrs. Alicumpaine, came callingat the street-door with a ring-ting-ting.

‘My dear Mrs. Alicumpaine,’ said Mrs. Orange,‘how do you do? Pray stay to dinner. We havebut a simple joint of sweet-stuff, followed by a plain dish ofbread and treacle; but, if you will take us as you find us, itwill be sokind!’

‘Don’t mention it,’ said Mrs.Alicumpaine. ‘I shall be too glad. But what doyou think I have come for, ma’am? Guess,ma’am.’

‘I really cannot guess, ma’am,’ said Mrs.Orange.

‘Why, I am going to have a small juvenile partyto-night,’ said Mrs. Alicumpaine; ‘and if you and Mr.Orange and baby would but join us, we should becomplete.’

‘More than charmed, I am sure!’ said Mrs.Orange.

‘So kind of you!’ said Mrs. Alicumpaine.‘But I hope the children won’t bore you?’

‘Dear things! Not at all,’ said Mrs.Orange. ‘I dote upon them.’

Mr. Orange here came home from the city; and he came, too,with a ring-ting-ting.

‘James love,’ said Mrs. Orange, ‘you looktired. What has been doing in the city to-day?’

‘Trap, bat, and ball, my dear,’ said Mr. Orange,‘and it knocks a man up.’

‘That dreadfully anxious city, ma’am,’ saidMrs. Orange to Mrs. Alicumpaine; ‘so wearing, is itnot?’

‘O, so trying!’ said Mrs. Alicumpaine.‘John has lately been speculating in the peg-top ring; andI often say to him at night, “John, isthe resultworth the wear and tear?”’

Dinner was ready by this time: so they sat down to dinner; andwhile Mr. Orange carved the joint of sweet-stuff, he said,‘It’s a poor heart that never rejoices. Jane,go down to the cellar, and fetch a bottle of the Upestginger-beer.’

At tea-time, Mr. and Mrs. Orange, and baby, and Mrs.Alicumpaine went off to Mrs. Alicumpaine’s house. Thechildren had not come yet; but the ball-room was ready for them,decorated with paper flowers.

‘How very sweet!’ said Mrs. Orange.‘The dear things! How pleased they willbe!’

‘I don’t care for children myself,’ said Mr.Orange, gaping.

‘Not for girls?’ said Mrs. Alicumpaine.‘Come! you care for girls?’

Mr. Orange shook his head, and gaped again.‘Frivolous and vain, ma’am.’

‘My dear James,’ cried Mrs. Orange, who had beenpeeping about, ‘do look here. Here’s the supperfor the darlings, ready laid in the room behind thefolding-doors. Here’s their little pickled salmon, Ido declare! And here’s their little salad, and theirlittle roast beef and fowls, and their little pastry, and theirwee, wee, wee champagne!’

‘Yes, I thought it best, ma’am,’ said Mrs.Alicumpaine, ‘that they should have their supper bythemselves. Our table is in the corner here, where thegentlemen can have their wineglass of negus, and theiregg-sandwich, and their quiet game at beggar-my-neighbour, andlook on. As for us, ma’am, we shall have quite enoughto do to manage the company.’

‘O, indeed, you may say so! Quite enough,ma’am,’ said Mrs. Orange.

The company began to come. The first of them was a stoutboy, with a white top-knot and spectacles. The housemaidbrought him in and said, ‘Compliments, and at what time washe to be fetched!’ Mrs. Alicumpaine said, ‘Nota moment later than ten. How do you do, sir? Go andsit down.’ Then a number of other children came; boysby themselves, and girls by themselves, and boys and girlstogether. They didn’t behave at all well. Someof them looked through quizzing-glasses at others, and said,‘Who are those? Don’t know them.’Some of them looked through quizzing-glasses at others, and said,‘How do?’ Some of them had cups of tea orcoffee handed to them by others, and said, ‘Thanks;much!’ A good many boys stood about, and felt theirshirt-collars. Four tiresome fat boys wouldstand inthe doorway, and talk about the newspapers, till Mrs. Alicumpainewent to them and said, ‘My dears, I really cannot allow youto prevent people from coming in. I shall be truly sorry todo it; but, if you put yourself in everybody’s way, I mustpositively send you home.’ One boy, with a beard anda large white waistcoat, who stood straddling on the hearth-rugwarming his coat-tails, wassent home. ‘Highlyincorrect, my dear,’ said Mrs. Alicumpaine, handing him outof the room, ‘and I cannot permit it.’

There was a children’s band,—harp, cornet, andpiano,—and Mrs. Alicumpaine and Mrs. Orange bustled amongthe children to persuade them to take partners and dance.But they were so obstinate! For quite a long time theywould not be persuaded to take partners and dance. Most ofthe boys said, ‘Thanks; much! But not atpresent.’ And most of the rest of the boys said,‘Thanks; much! But never do.’

‘O, these children are very wearing!’ said Mrs.Alicumpaine to Mrs. Orange.

‘Dear things! I dote upon them; but they AREwearing,’ said Mrs. Orange to Mrs. Alicumpaine.

At last they did begin in a slow and melancholy way to slideabout to the music; though even then they wouldn’t mindwhat they were told, but would have this partner, andwouldn’t have that partner, and showed temper aboutit. And they wouldn’t smile,—no, not on anyaccount they wouldn’t; but, when the music stopped, wentround and round the room in dismal twos, as if everybody else wasdead.

‘O, it’s very hard indeed to get these vexingchildren to be entertained!’ said Mrs. Alicumpaine to Mrs.Orange.

‘I dote upon the darlings; but it is hard,’ saidMrs. Orange to Mrs. Alicumpaine.

They were trying children, that’s the truth.First, they wouldn’t sing when they were asked; and then,when everybody fully believed they wouldn’t, theywould. ‘If you serve us so any more, my love,’said Mrs. Alicumpaine to a tall child, with a good deal of whiteback, in mauve silk trimmed with lace, ‘it will be mypainful privilege to offer you a bed, and to send you to itimmediately.’

The girls were so ridiculously dressed, too, that they were inrags before supper. How could the boys help treading ontheir trains? And yet when their trains were trodden on,they often showed temper again, and looked as black, theydid! However, they all seemed to be pleased when Mrs.Alicumpaine said, ‘Supper is ready, children!’And they went crowding and pushing in, as if they had had drybread for dinner.

‘How are the children getting on?’ said Mr. Orangeto Mrs. Orange, when Mrs. Orange came to look after baby.Mrs. Orange had left baby on a shelf near Mr. Orange while heplayed at beggar-my-neighbour, and had asked him to keep his eyeupon her now and then.

‘Most charmingly, my dear!’ said Mrs.Orange. ‘So droll to see their little flirtations andjealousies! Do come and look!’

‘Much obliged to you, my dear,’ said Mr. Orange;‘but I don’t care about children myself.’

So Mrs. Orange, having seen that baby was safe, went backwithout Mr. Orange to the room where the children were havingsupper.

‘What are they doing now?’ said Mrs. Orange toMrs. Alicumpaine.

‘They are making speeches, and playing atparliament,’ said Mrs. Alicumpaine to Mrs. Orange.

On hearing this, Mrs. Orange set off once more back again toMr. Orange, and said, ‘James dear, do come. Thechildren are playing at parliament.’

‘Thank you, my dear,’ said Mr. Orange, ‘butI don’t care about parliament myself.’

So Mrs. Orange went once again without Mr. Orange to the roomwhere the children were having supper, to see them playing atparliament. And she found some of the boys crying,‘Hear, hear, hear!’ while other boys cried ‘No,no!’ and others, ‘Question!’‘Spoke!’ and all sorts of nonsense that ever youheard. Then one of those tiresome fat boys who had stoppedthe doorway told them he was on his legs (as if theycouldn’t see that he wasn’t on his head, or on hisanything else) to explain, and that, with the permission of hishonourable friend, if he would allow him to call him so (anothertiresome boy bowed), he would proceed to explain. Then hewent on for a long time in a sing-song (whatever he meant), didthis troublesome fat boy, about that he held in his hand a glass;and about that he had come down to that house that night todischarge what he would call a public duty; and about that, onthe present occasion, he would lay his hand (his other hand) uponhis heart, and would tell honourable gentlemen that he was aboutto open the door to general approval. Then he opened thedoor by saying, ‘To our hostess!’ and everybody elsesaid ‘To our hostess!’ and then there werecheers. Then another tiresome boy started up in sing-song,and then half a dozen noisy and nonsensical boys at once.But at last Mrs. Alicumpaine said, ‘I cannot have thisdin. Now, children, you have played at parliament verynicely; but parliament gets tiresome after a little while, andit’s time you left off, for you will soon befetched.’

After another dance (with more tearing to rags than beforesupper), they began to be fetched; and you will be very glad tobe told that the tiresome fat boy who had been on his legs waswalked off first without any ceremony. When they were allgone, poor Mrs. Alicumpaine dropped upon a sofa, and said to Mrs.Orange, ‘These children will be the death of me at last,ma’am,—they will indeed!’

‘I quite adore them, ma’am,’ said Mrs.Orange; ‘but they DO want variety.’

Mr. Orange got his hat, and Mrs. Orange got her bonnet and herbaby, and they set out to walk home. They had to pass Mrs.Lemon’s preparatory establishment on their way.

‘I wonder, James dear,’ said Mrs. Orange, lookingup at the window, ‘whether the precious children areasleep!’

‘I don’t care much whether they are or not,myself,’ said Mr. Orange.

‘James dear!’

‘You dote upon them, you know,’ said Mr.Orange. ‘That’s another thing.’

‘I do,’ said Mrs. Orange rapturously.‘O, I DO!’

‘I don’t,’ said Mr. Orange.

‘But I was thinking, James love,’ said Mrs.Orange, pressing his arm, ‘whether our dear, good, kindMrs. Lemon would like them to stay the holidays withher.’

‘If she was paid for it, I daresay she would,’said Mr. Orange.

‘I adore them, James,’ said Mrs. Orange,‘but SUPPOSE we pay her,then!’

This was what brought that country to such perfection, andmade it such a delightful place to live in. The grown-uppeople (that would be in other countries) soon left off beingallowed any holidays after Mr. and Mrs. Orange tried theexperiment; and the children (that would be in other countries)kept them at school as long as ever they lived, and made them dowhatever they were told.

FOOTNOTES

[251] Aged eight.

[258] Aged seven.

[266] Aged nine.

[274] Aged half-past six.

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