Boxen: Childhood Chronicles Before Narnia

‘The Alhambras!’

‘Yes. Of course Big doesn’t like that.’

They strolled into the house & found the others preparing to go to the inn for breakfast.

‘Boys,’ said the Frog indicating the kings’ flannels, ‘you’re not going in those things?’

‘Yes,’ said Bunny in a hurt voice.

Big sighed: & they started for the inn. All except Quicksteppe who said he was unwell. As soon as they were gone he hastened into a hat, & started down the beach, at a really remarkable rate for so old a gentleman. The Bosphorus was sailing this morning with Macgoullah on board! And he must get Macgoullah!

Alas, his toilet had taken too long. When he reached the jetty the Bosphorus was a good mile out! A lean swift rowboat for hire, manned by three Chessmen came along side. The leader spoke: –

‘Does your Excellency wish a boat?’

Quicksteppe clutched at the straw.

‘Yes,’ he cried jumping in, ‘5 sovereigns if you catch up that schooner!’

‘Yes Excellency.’

In an incredibly short space of time the lean craft was shooting through the water with the general in the stern sheets. But it soon became painfully obvious that the persuers were loosing ground. A fine fresh breeze had caught the vessels sails & under her sturdy master’s fine manipulation was fast dissapearing over the sky line.

III

Any sailor who has been to Murry knows the Murryman’s rest. This servicable inn stands on the Royal Wharf & is a spacious building whose architecture presents a hetrogenious appearance as fresh wings have been built on from time to time through the 2 last centuries. On a certain morning about three days after Quicksteppes abortive attempt to catch the Bosphorus, Polonius Green sat in its cosy Inner.

He was seated on a high-backed oaken bench, beside a Foreigner. The latter was a clean shaven man with flowing red hair.

‘Well,’ the captain was saying, ‘what is the do?’

‘The “do” is,’ said the other coldly, ‘that you have made a fool of yourself.’

The bird bristled.

‘What do you mean, Sir?’

‘Just this. You have told Goose that our leader was bribing.’

‘Yes. But –’

‘Well? –’

‘Our Leader declared that he would not give me a place in the new Clique. So I naturally –’

‘Yes. Because you can set no bounds to your insatiable ambition you overthrow the whole party?’

‘I do!’ said the angry bird.

‘Animal-lander! Sparrow!’

‘Prussian!’

‘How was it you fell out with our leader?’

‘Mind your own business.’ With that, the bird, with ruffled feathers, paid his bill & went out. The Prussian gazed after him with angry eyes, & sank back on his bench.

‘D––n the bird!!’ he muttered. At that moment the doors of the Inner were thrown open & another customer entered. He was a short, fairly stout bear. His fur was of a rich hock-brown color, & well oiled on the top of his round head. His expression was humurous, self satisfied, & intelligent. A cigarette was grasped between his tightly pursed lips. He was clad in a steward’s uniform and his cap bore the legend, ‘H.M.S. THRUSH’. The Prussian looked up.

‘’morning Mr Bar.’

‘Delighted to see you my dear Glohenman.’

‘Where have you sprung from?’

‘Oh the Thrush is at the Lord Wharf.’

‘Never! And captain Murry on board?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘And Hogge, the mate?’

‘Ist officer,’ corrected R.N. [Bar, of the Royal Navy], ‘but how is business?’

The foreigner looked round. They were alone.

‘Clique business?’

‘Yes.’

Then the two drew close together & for a long time sat in close confabulation. The Bear seemed to give instructions, & the other now & then made notes in a large pocket book. Occasionally he offered suggestions: suddenly, after about a quarter of an hour, to one of these suggestions the steward rose, & said loudly ‘No we will never do that. And don’t get beyond yourself either, my friend.’ Then he went out banging the door.

Left alone the Prussian took another glass & reflected that these cursed Boxonians were all fools.

IV

The manager’s room of the offices of Pig & Bradley Shipowner & Carriers Ltd in D Street Murry, betrayed by its appurtenances the tastes & character of its owner. One wall was almost entirely filled up by three huge windows which brilliantly illumined the apartment. The floor was covered by a well worn oilcloth of the conventional light brown. To the right & left stood huge glass-fronted bookcases filled with all volumes necessary to a shipowner, arranged according to authors. On the fuorth wall hung a large map. In the middle of the room was a large double table for the partners. Only Mr Reginald Vant (the Pig) was at this time present. He was a pig of some 40 summers, shrewd, hard working & unaffected. His face at present betrayed no emotion but interest in the papers before him. He was clad in one of those respectibally plain stuff suits so dear to the businessman. Suddenly he was enterrupted by a clerk who said that Mr Green wished to see him, if he was not busy.

‘Admit him,’ said the Pig, pushing aside his work.

A minute later the parrot entered, looking annoyed for he had come straight from the Murryman’s Rest. The Shipowner bade Green sit & gave him a pipe of Montserrat

which the latter sucked while they talked.

‘My dear Mr Green, what can I do for you?’

‘Only give me a little information Sir.’