Uncle Joe's Stories

When news of what had been done reached Chinks, the soul of the Lord Chamberlain was greatly exercised thereat. He did not for a moment imagine that Binks or his daughters had been guilty of the crime imputed to them by their royal master; but in the acts of the latter he discerned a steady determination to possess himself of the wealth of his richest subjects, and to reign more absolutely and despotically than his predecessors.

How to escape the fate of Binks was a problem by no means easy of solution. He was blessed with three daughters, Asphalia, Bettina, and Paraphernalia, so much alike that they could not be known apart, and so beautiful that nobody could see them without immediately becoming devoted to them. In these damsels Chinks placed his hopes, and could not but believe that the king, however hardly he had dealt with his Prime Minister, would not be insensible to the charms of his Lord Chamberlain's daughters. Still, he received with some fear and trembling the notice which Famcram shortly sent him, that he would visit him at his country house in the following week.

As the selection of a ball had not turned out well in the case of Binks, the Chinks family resolved upon another sort of entertainment, and at vast expense hired a celebrated conjuror to perform before the sovereign and his court.

The preparations were great – the company numerous – the weather all that could be desired, and the monarch, with his attendant courtiers, arrived in due time at the house, and was ushered into the spacious hall, where everything had been arranged for his reception. The three daughters of the house, dressed exactly alike, were there to receive him; but not a flower was to be seen about any of them, so that the fatal error of the Prime Minister's children might be avoided. They were dressed simply, and reverently knelt before the king as they raised their voices to sing (in tones as true as they were sweet) an ode which their father had himself composed in honour of his sovereign's visit.

Scarcely, however, had they finished the first verse, when the little tyrant roared out at the top of his voice —

"They sing out of tune! they sing out of tune! A royal ear is never deceived! He has made them do it because he knows I cannot bear a false note. Seize him, guards! away with him and his shabbily-dressed girls!"

Chinks stepped forward to explain matters in his most courtly fashion, when the king brought down his sceptre upon his head with such a "thwack," that you might have heard it at the other end of the hall, and, though his wig, which was particularly large, partially saved him, he dropped senseless upon the floor, whilst his daughters broke into shrieks of despair which were really out of tune, and were painful indeed to hear.

Famcram stopped his ears, and howled loudly for his guard, and before many minutes had passed, the Lord Chamberlain and his daughters were on their way to the same dungeons whither Binks and his girls had preceded them, and the king was occupied in selecting everything in the house which appeared to be most costly and beautiful, and directing that it should be forthwith sent to his palace.

Thus within a few days were two out of the three great functionaries of the kingdom dismissed, disgraced, and left in great peril of their lives, whilst the king had added considerably to his wealth, and had got rid of two people whom he had either suspected or pretended to suspect of being likely to be troublesome.

These events made a profound impression upon the mind of Pigspud, and all the more so when notice came from the king that he should pay him a visit in the following week. The Lord Chief Justice was a wily and astute man. Although his life had not been reputable, the peccadilloes of great lawyers in that country were so usual as to be regarded by the public with a lenient eye, and, late in life, his appearance had become so eminently respectable, that a stranger would certainly have taken him for a dean rather than for a judge, for a deep divine rather than for a learned lawyer.

He had but one daughter. Tall, majestic of stature (for she was nearly four feet high), and with dark hair and eyes so bright that they seemed to look right through you, Ophelia Pigspud was a most remarkable woman. She was well read; so well read that people said she could have passed an examination with credit in almost any subject she had been pleased to try. Reading, in fact, was no effort to her, and her powers of memory were extraordinarily great. It was even said that she knew more of law than many lawyers of the day, whilst no one could deny her skill in modern languages, and her astonishing proficiency in general literature.

As the venerable Chief Justice gazed upon his child, who was indeed the pride of his heart, he could not but feel uneasy at the prospect of her being sent to join the families of Binks and Chinks in the dungeons of the royal palace.

"Never," he exclaimed, "shall such a fate befall my peerless Ophelia!"

And having given utterance to this exalted sentiment, he thought for three days and three nights how to carry it out, and utterly failed to discover anything at all likely to succeed. Then he bethought himself of consulting the young lady herself, of whose opinion he thought so highly that it is curious he had not done so before.

She smiled calmly when he laid the case before her, reminding her at the same time that there wanted but three more days to the time fixed by the king for his visit.

"Be not alarmed, my beloved father," said she, "but be assured that the blood of a true Pigspud will not be untrue to itself in the coming trial. Besides, the education which your kind care has provided for me, has taught me means of escape from even worse dangers than those which can proceed from our tyrannical sovereign. Doubt not that it will turn out well."

With such reassuring words did the daughter of the Chief Justice restore courage to the heart of her parent, and he began to look forward with less fear to the banquet at which it had been arranged that he should entertain his royal master. It was to be served in the large banqueting hall of his town house, and great preparations were set on foot for several days before that appointed for the festive gathering. But instead of busying herself about the matter, Ophelia treated it as if it was one wholly indifferent to her, and refused to be troubled about it in any way whatever. It was in vain that the domestics, who were accustomed to take all orders from her, besought her to give various directions upon different questions which arose. She declined altogether; deputing everything to Mrs. Brushemup, the housekeeper; and telling old Winelees, the butler, not to come near her on pain of instant dismissal.

Her own rooms were in a wing of the house which stretched down to the banks of the river already mentioned, and from a private door she could get down upon the banks without coming in sight of the windows of the principal apartments.

But before I relate that which happened to the fair Ophelia at this eventful time, it is but right to inquire what had become of the unhappy families who had already felt the weight of the tyrant Famcram's displeasure. Binks, with his two, and Chinks, with his three daughters, had been cast into the dungeons of the Royal Palace, and the wife of Chinks having been added to the party, greatly increased the misery of all by her continual upbraidings of her husband and his friend as the cause of the misfortune which had befallen their two families, which were all the more hard to bear, because they were totally unreasonable and without foundation.

The dungeons were small, hot, and unsavoury, and the prisoners suffered greatly, especially as the food supplied to them was scanty in quantity and wretched in quality. The young ladies endeavoured to pass away the time in composing epitaphs upon their parents and themselves, which after all did but little towards raising their spirits, being, as such things not uncommonly are, of a somewhat melancholy character. Euphemia and Araminta, however, were so proud of one of their compositions, that it would be a pity that it should be lost to the world: —

"Here lies the minister, great Binks,
No more he for his country thinks;
No more he eats – no more he drinks —
But, conquered by misfortune, sinks."

The daughters of the Lord Chamberlain were scarcely equal to such a poetic effort as the above; but, determined not to be behindhand, presented their parent with the following stanza: —

"Look through these bars with eye of lynx,
And see the chamberlain, Lord Chinks!
He scarce can breathe, and feebly winks,
Quite done to death by prison stinks."

In this manner did the innocent maidens endeavour to lighten the hours of captivity which passed over their heads, and when, upon the second week of their imprisonment, they were moved into larger and more airy apartments, hope at once revived within their drooping bosoms. It must, however, be confessed, that in the midst of their distress both Binks and Chinks contemplated with silent but real satisfaction the probably speedy advent of Pigspud to join them in their prison, and share their sorrows. This event they both regarded as quite certain to occur, and without having any particular ill-feeling towards the Chief Justice, the three had been too long in the position of rivals to make either two sorry for any misfortune that befell the third, especially if it had previously fallen upon themselves.

Leaving these worthies to their expectations, we will now endeavour to discover what was passing at the abode of Pigspud. It was the evening but one before the projected banquet. The shades of evening were fast closing in around the city, and the mists of the river were beginning to rise like vapoury spirits from the water, when the private door of Ophelia's wing was stealthily and quietly opened, and a figure emerged, clothed from head to foot in a cloak of dark gray. Slowly but surely, as one who knew the road well, the figure passed along the low terrace-walk that led down to the bank of the river, and stood at the brink, silently for a few moments, and then began to murmur words in a low tone. A listener, however attentive, could scarcely have made out the meaning of that which Ophelia (for it was none other than the daughter of the house of Pigspud) was reciting, for the language in which she spoke was strange, and her tone somewhat indistinct; —

"Marley-quarley-pachel-farley,
Mansto macken furlesparley,
Mondo pondo sicho pinto,
Framsigalen hannotinto."

Such were the mystic words which issued from the lips of the maiden. Nor was it long before a response was given. A low murmuring sound proceeded from the river, and out of the rushes which fringed the bank there presently arose a form of strange and weird appearance. It was that of an old, a very old woman, with a red cloak wrapped around her, an umbrella in her hand, and a poke bonnet upon the top of her head. She was small, though not much below the ordinary height of a Pigmy; but the most remarkable thing about her was the extreme keenness of her eye, which seemed to pierce you through and through when she fixed it upon you. Slowly she rose from among the rushes, and scrambled, somehow or other, up the bank, until she stood opposite to the maiden who had summoned her. As soon as she had accomplished this feat, she struck her umbrella upon the ground, and remarked in a somewhat masculine tone of voice:

"What is it, Ophelia, and what do you fear,
That you've called your affectionate godmother here?
Has your 'Pa' been unkind? (since no 'Ma' you have got),
Or a lover appeared when you'd rather he'd not?
Are you ill, or unhappy, or is't for a freak
That your godmother's presence you suddenly seek?"

Ophelia listened with respectful attention whilst the old woman uttered these words, and then replied in a low, sweet voice: —

"Did I not deem the crisis grave
I had not called thee from thy wave:
And if in doing so I err,
Forgive me, gracious godmother!
My father knows thee not, great dame;
My mother told me, all the same,
Thou wast my godmother, and so
I love thee in my weal and woe.
O'ercome by cruel destiny,
Poor Binks and Chinks in dungeons lie,
And our bad king – a grievous sin —
Hath likewise put their daughters in.
Dear godmother! 'twere sad, you know,
My father should to prison go;
But sadder still (you'll hardly fail
To see) that I should go to gaol.
Yet is the time but two days hence
When Famcram comes; on some pretence
He'll surely send us both to pris'n,
And make our valuables hisn.
Dear Godmother! Pray leave thy wave
Thy loving god-daughter to save,
Or tell me how, by thy kind aid,
The tyrant's power I may evade!"

Whilst Ophelia was speaking, the old woman kept tapping her umbrella upon the ground in visible wrath, and a frown appearing upon her face, which was otherwise not particularly beautiful, did not greatly improve her personal appearance. As soon as the maiden ceased, she lost not a moment in making her reply: —

"I'm ready, my darling, to do your behest,