The Missing Prince

Oh, will you be my bride?”

“Isn’t the last line rather abrupteous?” inquired One-and-Nine when he had finished.

“Why, that’s the best part about it,” replied the Public Rhymester. “You see you pop the question so suddenly that you quite take the lady by storm – and that line comparing her to ‘other girls’ is very wise, you know; she is sure to feel flattered at that.”

“Do you think that I ought to sign my name at the bottom of it?” asked One-and-Nine, folding the paper up neatly.

“I shouldn’t if I were you,” replied the Public Rhymester. “You can see what effect this has upon the lady, and if you think that she is pleased, I should follow it up with another, but I shouldn’t sign my name at first; it will make it a little mysterious, you know, and ladies like that sort of thing, I am told. But now I must be off. Good-night. You won’t forget to do the best you can for me to-morrow, will you?” and the Public Rhymester hurried away with his enormous handkerchief tucked under his arm, while One-and-Nine sealed up the Poem – after adding the following words, which he thought might improve it:

“The rose is red, the violet’s blue,
Sardines are nice, and so are you” —

and handed it to Caesar Maximilian Augustus Claudius Smith (called Thomas for short), to deliver, and then, after saying good-night to Boy, retired to his own room, which was on the other side of the corridor.

Boy sat up a little while longer, thinking of all the strange things which had been happening; and then he followed the Wooden Soldier’s example and went to rest too.

CHAPTER VII. – A STRANGE PARLIAMENT

WHEN Boy awoke the next morning he found the whole Palace in a commotion. Most of the Royal Household had been up all night making grand preparations for the Coronation of the young King. Out in the courtyard he could see the great gilded State Coach being dusted and brushed, while footmen and stewards were rushing about on all sorts of errands.

Boy heard from One-and-Nine that a carriage had been provided for them to join in the procession, which was to be a very extensive one. Animals were coming in of their own accord from all parts of the country to take part in it, and in the Park Boy was very much amused to see a worried-looking goose trying to teach a number of cocks and hens to march properly. The cocks were getting on famously, and held their heads up and stepped out bravely, but the hens would stop to peck at every worm and insect that they passed.

Several bands were practising in various parts of the grounds, and as they were all playing different tunes at the same time, the music was rather confusing.

Quite early in the morning the Lord High Adjudicator and most of the Court officials whom Boy had previously seen, arrived and began squabbling as to the order in which they should follow in the procession. The Advertiser General and the Public Rhymester were talking very excitedly about something or other. When the latter saw Boy he hurried up to him and said anxiously, “I hope you haven’t spoken to the Prince about me yet?”

“No,” replied Boy, “I haven’t seen him this morning.”

“Ah, that’s all right then,” said the Public Rhymester, with a sigh of relief. “The Advertiser General has been explaining to me that I can earn ever so much more money as a Public Rhymester than a Court Poet, for you see I shall now be able to write poems for advertising purposes; and he has already given me orders for several. I have to write a poem on ‘Pea Soup for the Complexion,’ ‘Kofe’s Hair Restorer for making the hair grow on worn-out brooms and brushes,’ and a new Soap which ‘won’t wash clothes’ or anything else – that’s pretty good for a start, isn’t it? So please don’t say anything about my having the position of Court Poet restored to me, for I don’t think that I would accept the post if it was offered me;” and the Public Rhymester went back to the Advertiser General again.

Boy could see that the carriages were beginning to form in a line, so he thought that it was time for him to get ready, and hurrying back to his apartments, found One-and-Nine waiting for him.

Soon after this the procession started, and before getting into the carriage with the Wooden Soldier Boy had a capital view of the young Prince as he entered the State Coach accompanied by the Royal Nurse. The dear little fellow looked very charming in a little white velvet suit with diamond buttons and buckles, and wore a plumed cap which he raised politely as the people cheered him along the route. Mrs. Martha Matilda Nimpky, too, looked very important in a yellow satin gown, with a bonnet trimmed with ribbons of all the colours of the rainbow.

Poor One-and-Nine was more lovesick than ever when he beheld her, and scarcely noticed the beautiful decorations in the streets. Boy, however, was charmed with them. Flags and banners and triumphal arches were to be seen on all sides as they passed along, and Boy wondered how they could possibly have put them up in so short a time.

The Coronation ceremony itself was a very imposing one, and it was a beautiful sight to see the little King in his royal robes and crown and sceptre, whilst the people shouted most enthusiastically, “Long live the King, long live King Robert the Twenty-first” till they were hoarse. Then they had all gone with the Court dignitaries to the House of Words, where an address was read by the Lord High Adjudicator; but by this time the poor little King was very tired indeed, and said that “he didn’t want to hear all those old gentlemen talk any more.”

Of course this was rather awkward, as there were several more State matters to be attended to, and the Royal Nurse tried to persuade the little King to stop and listen to them.

“These gentlemen, Your Majesty,” said she, “are going to help you to be King and show you how to govern your subjects wisely; you must hear what they have to say.”

“But I don’t want them,” said His Majesty rebelliously, “I want some little boys to come to help me be King, not all these old gentlemans; and now I want to go back to the Palace and have my tea,” and the little King got off the throne and toddled away with the Royal Nurse after him.

“Well, here’s a pretty kettle of fish,” said the Lord High Adjudicator when they had gone. “Of course as he is King he will have to be obeyed, but a parliament of children is positively absurd; and, besides, where shall we be? I can’t think what’s to be done.”

“I suppose we couldn’t dress up as children, could we?” suggested the Advertiser General after a pause.

“The very thing, of course,” said the Lord High Adjudicator, delighted with this solution of the difficulty, and the meeting broke up in some disorder, after it had been arranged that they should all meet next morning attired as children and see if that would please the King.

In the evening there were fireworks and illuminations and a carnival in the streets, which people attended dressed in all sorts of fantastic garments.

Boy drove with One-and-Nine through the town to see the sights; everybody was provided with paper bags filled with “confetti” (which in this case were tiny little round pieces of coloured paper), with which they pelted each other. Boy quite enjoyed the fun, and tired himself out throwing confetti at the people as they passed, and getting handfuls thrown back at him, till the carriage was nearly filled with gaily coloured scraps of paper.

The King watched the sights from the Balcony of the Palace, and it was quite late before everybody got to bed and the town was quiet again.

At eleven o’clock the next morning the extraordinary Parliament met, and the King was already seated with the Royal Nurse beside him when the Politicians began to arrive. The Advertiser General looked very funny in a short baby’s frock tied up with blue ribbons, while the Lord High Fiddle-de-dee, being rather tall, had adopted a sailor’s suit, and trundled a hoop. The Lord High Adjudicator had overdone the matter and arrived in a. perambulator accompanied by a nurse carrying a feeding-bottle. All the others were dressed as children too, and most of them carried toys, and the noise of the penny trumpets which many of them blew was quite deafening.

(See Frontispiece).

The little King laughed when he saw them, and declared that it was great fun and much better than such a lot of talking about things that he couldn’t understand.

He ordered that all the seats should be taken out of the hall so that they could play games and use the toys which the Statesmen had brought; he had, moreover, insisted on the Lord High Fiddle-de-dee going down on his hands and knees and giving him a ride on his back all round the room. Then they had gone out on to the Terrace which was outside the House of Words and by which the river ran, and the King had screamed with delight when, at Boy’s suggestion, all the old gentlemen played at leapfrog, doing their best to look dignified in these trying circumstances; then when they were all tired out, they went back to the hall again and sat in a ring on the floor looking quite exhausted, while the King demanded Nursery Rhymes.

The Busybody Extraordinary, who had been exerting himself more than all the others in his efforts to please the King, immediately commenced to repeat the following: —

“Sing a song of sixpence,
A pocket full of Rye,
About a foolish serving maid,
To tell you I will try.

“The King was in his counting-house
Bemoaning lack of money,
The Knave was in the pantry
Stealing bread and honey.

“The Queen was in her tiring-room
Just trying a new dress,
‘The last one isn’t paid for yet,’
I heard the Queen confess.

“The maid was in the garden
Hanging out the clothes,
While four-and-twenty dicky birds
She balanced on her nose.

“And while the birdies sat there,
This maid began to sing.
‘I say, you know, I can’t stand that,’
Called out the angry King.

“The maid she sang so out of tune
It nearly drove him mad,
So the Chamberlain discharged her,
And every one was glad.”

“Aren’t you going to repeat the moral?” asked the Lord High Fiddle-de-dee when he had finished.

“There isn’t one,” said the Busybody Extraordinary.