The Missing Prince

The guests were principally dolls dressed in the most varied of costumes, from silks, brocades and satins, to black paint; some fastidious-looking young gentlemen with fair curled hair, and dressed in pale blue knitted suits, were leaning against the wall in affected attitudes, and a whole group of Dutch dolls were gathered around a military-looking person in a cocked hat lolling luxuriously on an ottoman at one end of the room. There was a Toy Band at the other end, which looked very imposing, but which Boy found out was only for show, the Musicians only pretending to perform, while the music was really supplied by a musical box hidden away at the back. A number of dolls were dancing a polka when Boy and One-and-Nine entered, so they sat down on a rout-seat near the door and watched them.

A supercilious-looking doll in evening dress sat next to Boy, fanning herself fussily.

“Very mixed lot of people here,” she began, without the slightest introduction. “I should not have come if I had known what to expect. Are you a friend of Mr. Waxxe-Doll’s?” she asked.

“No, I’ve never met him before,” replied Boy.

“Ah! vulgar person, very – plenty of money, though – likes to be thought grand. Of course he isn’t a Waxxe-Doll at all. His wife was a Waxxe and he took her name – it looks very well joined to his with a hyphen, you know. Mrs. Waxxe-Doll is of French descent, and gives herself airs in consequence. They’ve hired this Castle for the season at enormous expense, but bless you, they are nobodies! See that vulgar-looking old lady in the corner – with a pipe in her mouth – they call her Ancient Aunt Sarah; but she’s nothing of the sort. Everybody knows her; she’s just ‘Old Aunt Sally, three-shies-a-penny,’ so it’s no use their trying to disguise the fact. Look at those two,” she went on, as two dolls in very straight narrow dresses danced past, “what guys! But there, what can you expect? They came out of the ark, I believe.”

And Boy could see that they really did look like the figures out of Noah’s Ark.

The music stopped just then, and most of the dolls went out into the grounds to get cool; and Boy, who did not at all care for the spiteful little person who had been letting him into all the Waxxe-Doll’s family secrets, thought that he would follow their example.

One-and-Nine had wandered off by himself, so Boy had no one to talk to.

He found the grounds brilliantly illuminated with little wax vestas stuck in the sand, and the toy trees and rustic bridges looked quite pretty in the light. Three or four Gentlemen dolls were playing a kind of game by the pond, and asked Boy to join them. He found that it was called “Stock Brokers,” and he soon learned how to play it.

Each had a large sheet of blue paper which was called a “Stock,” and which when torn in half became a “Share.” These pieces of paper were thrown into the air, and the game consisted in blowing under these pieces of paper, or “raising the wind,” as it was called, in order to keep them floating: the one who kept his “Share” or “Stock” from falling longest won the game. Boy quite enjoyed playing it until one of his “Shares” fell to the ground, and then he was “broke,” as they called it, and so he lost the game.

A crowd of dolls hurrying back to the Castle next attracted his attention, and, following them inside, he heard it announced that Sergeant One-and-Nine was about to recite. Boy was very glad to hear this, and managed to push forward to where One-and-Nine was standing.

The Master of Ceremonies was bustling about trying to find every one a seat; and at last, when the room was quite quiet, One-and-Nine began the following poem, which had been composed by himself: —

THE MUS RIDICULOUS AND THE FELIS DOMESTICA

“A Cat amidst the Burdock leaves
Sat all disconsolate,
And sadsomely did wop and wole
And role against her fate.

“‘Ah! hollow, hollow,’ wole the Cat,
‘Is all Societee,
And falshish shamiosity
In all around I see.’

“‘Oh! why,’ I crew in sympathy,
‘Lamentuate like that?
Pray tell me all your sorrowness’;
And down I flumply sat.

“The Cat did then all sobbishly
Her woesome tale repeat.
‘This world is full of mockishness,
And also of deceit.

“‘For why? This mom at dawnitude
A mouse I did espy;
‘Twas running whirligigishly
Beneath my very eye.

‘And feeling somewhat breakfastish
I straightway gave a spring,
And landed right upon the back
Of that activeous thing.

“‘To my surprise it did not squeak,
And neither did it squeal;
And as ‘twas rather littleish,
I ate it at one meal.

“‘I much regret my hastiness,
For soon, to my dismay,
‘Twas acting most unmouseishly,
In an eccentric way.

“‘’Twas what they term a clockwork mouse,
And governed by a spring;
Its works behaved revolvingly,
And hurt like anything.

“‘Oh! tell me, is life livable
When things go on like that?
When clockwork mice and feathered shams
Impose upon a Cat?’

“I could not answer her, and so
I softly snoke away;
I felt that ‘twould be synicish
To wish that Cat ‘Good-day.’”

All the company applauded vigorously at the conclusion of the recitation; and whilst the clapping was still going on a black india-rubber doll rushed in with a very scared face and cried out, “The tide is coming in!” and there was immediately a great commotion throughout the room.

The company rushed helter-skelter to the gate, where they could see that the tide had indeed risen so high as to cut off all communication with the shore. Mr. Waxxe-Doll was stamping about in fury.

“See what comes of all this tomfoolery! Parties, indeed! and hiring Sand Castles for a lot of scatterbrains to make idiots of themselves in! Wait till I get safely home again on my shelf, and you don’t catch me giving any more parties, I can tell you.”

The remainder of the dolls were rushing madly about, wringing their hands and crying that they should all be drowned. One-and-Nine seemed to be the only person able to suggest anything.

“Here is a plank,” he said, pointing to one which had been left on the sand; “we had better all get on to it, and the tide will carry us back to the shore.”

The proposal was hailed with delight by the rest, and they all scrambled on to the plank and waited events. The elaborately dressed dolls in silk and satin held up their dainty skirts so that they should not get wet; whilst the Dutch dolls sat in a row on the edge of the plank with their legs dangling over the side.

Ancient Aunt Sarah threw conventionality to the winds, and lighted up her pipe, at which Mrs. Waxxe-Doll was so shocked that in her agitation she dropped her fan over the side of the plank.

Boy very politely jumped down to fetch it for her, and as he was stepping back a huge wave came rolling up and carried off the plank with all the dolls on it, wetting Boy through to the skin and leaving him standing alone on the wet sand. As the plank with its cargo of screaming dolls floated away, One-and-Nine shouted out, “I will meet you again at Zum,” just as they disappeared behind a rock standing out of the sea.

CHAPTER III. – PROFESSOR CRAB