The Missing Prince

The M.D. stopped to speak to his Lumbago, and Boy could see the page-boy, taller than ever, hurrying down the street with a basket on his arm containing some medicine-bottles.

“That boy grows very quickly,” said Boy to One-and-Nine while they were waiting for the M.D.

“Doctors’ Bills always do,” said One-and-Nine unconcernedly; “that’s how the Doctors live, you know.”’

“What do you mean?” exclaimed Boy.

“Why, when a Doctor’s Bill grows too long, his patients pay him to get a shorter one – that’s how it is that M.D.‘s change their boys with such frequentness.”

“What a lot of things I am learning to-day, to be sure,” thought Boy as the M.D. came back to them.

“Most interesting case,” he declared, evidently referring to the old gentleman whom he had just left. “The Lumbago is turning to Haberdashery in the left leg.” Then seeing that Boy looked very puzzled he added, “That’s the scientific name for ‘Pins and Needles,’ you know.”

“Oh!” said Boy. “Have you very many patients?” he asked.

“Oh yes,” said the M.D., smiling happily; “this is a most delightfully unhealthy spot. Good gracious,” he continued, “there’s that boy fighting again.” And the M.D. strode forward to where a small crowd was gathered round the Doctor’s Bill and another boy, who were fighting desperately. The M.D. rushed between them, and giving his boy a sharp box on the ears, asked him “what he meant by fighting with a common Grocer’s Bill.”

“It’s most unseemly,” he went on, “for you to be continually quarrelling with Tradesmen’s Bills: remember you have a position to keep up, and if you must fight, never let me catch you doing so again with any one less than a Lawyer’s Bill at least.”

“Please, sir,” blubbered the Doctor’s Bill, “there isn’t a Lawyer’s Bill my size in the kingdom; the shortest one is twice as long as I am.”

“Very well, then, don’t fight at all,” said the M.D. severely, and the Doctor’s Bill walked away sniffing and sobbing with the basket on his arm, while the Grocer’s Bill stood a little way off making grimaces at him.

“These Bills are a great nuisance,” said the M.D., “and are continually quarrelling; but I must leave you now, for I have to visit the Lord High Fiddle-de-dee, who is suffering with Gout. Good-day,” and he hurried up the stone steps of a handsome building on the opposite side of the street.

CHAPTER V. – THE COUNCILLORS OF ZUM

WHY, here he comes” exclaimed the M.D., as a very tall, aristocratic-looking gentleman opened the door and walked hurriedly down the steps.

“My dear sir, this is really too bad; you mustn’t think of going out, ill as you are,” he said.

“Oh, nonsense, my dear M.D.” said the Lord High Fiddle-de-dee. “State matters of the utmost importance demand my immediate attendance at the House of Words, and I must go whether I am well or not. Who are these persons with you?” he continued, staring rather hard at Boy and One-and-Nine.

“Oh! I really don’t know their names,” replied the M.D. “I think they are respectable persons, though.”

“Have they a vote?” inquired the Lord High Fiddle-de-dee anxiously.

“Yes, I think so,” said the M.D., referring to his watch. “They have been in the Town over an hour.”

“Oh, that’s all right, then,” said the Lord High Fiddle-de-dee; “every one who has lived here for more than an hour is entitled to a vote. Bring them along; they may be useful. What’s your name?” he continued, turning to Boy.

“My name is Cyril, but I am usually called Boy,” was the reply.

“And yours?” asked the Lord High Fiddle-de-dee of the Wooden Soldier.

“One-and-Nine, Your Honour,” replied he, saluting respectfully.

“Rubbish, I didn’t ask your price,” said the Lord High Fiddle-de-dee impatiently. “I want to know your name.”

“One-and-Nine, Your Honour,” repeated the Wooden Soldier.

The Lord High Fiddle-de-dee stared at him for a moment, and then turned to M.D. and said, “Is this man a little – and he tapped his forehead inquiringly.

“Yes; softening of the grain,” replied the M.D., nodding.

“Ah, I thought so,” remarked the Lord High Fiddle-de-dee. “Never mind, bring him along; even lunatics can vote here, you know,” and linking his arm in that of the M.D. they proceeded down the street, followed by Boy and One-and-Nine.

“He is a person of great dignitude, evidently,” whispered the Wooden Soldier, who was apparently greatly impressed by the Lord High Fiddle-de-dee’s aristocratic bearing. “And although he is rather abrupteous in his manner, I think I admirationise him, don’t you?”

“Yes. He seems to be a very nice gentleman,” agreed Boy. “I wonder what we shall see and hear at the House of Words? Oh! I suppose this is it,” he continued, as they turned a corner, and an imposing-looking building surrounded by an excited crowd of people came in sight.

The Lord High Fiddle-de-dee seemed to be a very well-known personage, and the crowd respectfully divided and allowed them to pass through to the entrance of the building, where an attendant opened the door and showed them along a corrider to another door marked Committee Room, which the Lord High Fiddle-de-dee opened and they all passed in.

A number of grandly dressed individuals were walking about, or chatting in little groups as they entered.

“Oh! here comes the Lord High Fiddle-de-dee,” cried some one directly they were inside the door. “Any news?” he inquired anxiously.

The Lord High Fiddle-de-dee shook his head sadly.

“Well, we are all here now, so we had better proceed to business; take your seats, please, gentlemen,” said a very important-looking gentleman in a red gown and wig, seated at the head of a long table on which were pens and paper arranged neatly before each chair.

“Members of the Committee will please take their seats in the following order of precedence,” drawled a melancholy voice from a desk at the further end of the room, where a worried-looking little old man, in a very rusty black gown, and who wore enormous green goggles, sat with a large book open before him, and a quill pen stuck behind his ear: —

“The King’s Exaggerator,” he called out;

“The Lord High Fiddle-de-dee;

“The First Lord of the Cash Box;

“The Advertiser General;

“The Minister of Experiments;

“The Public Persecutor;

“The Busybody Extraordinary;

“The Gentleman of the Glove Box;

“The First Groom of the Boot Brushes;

“The Kitchen Poker in Waiting; and

“His Insignificance the Court Poet.

“Other persons to sit-where they can.”

As each one of these names was called out one of the gentlemen sat down, so that Boy was able to tell exactly who they were; and as all the seats at the table were now occupied, the M.D., One-and-Nine, and Boy found seats against the wall near the Clerk who had called out the names.