FROM "_The London Messenger_."
CORONATION FESTIVITIES OF THE BLUE MOUNTAINS.
(_From our Special Correspondent_.)
PLAZAC, _October_ 14, 1907.
As I sat down to a poorly-equipped luncheon-table on board theAustro-Orient liner _Franz Joseph_, I mourned in my heart (and I may sayincidentally in other portions of my internal economy) the comfort andgastronomic luxury of the King and Emperor Hotel at Trieste. A briefcomparison between the menus of to-day's lunch and yesterday's willafford to the reader a striking object-lesson:_Trieste_. _Steamer_.Eggs a la cocotte. Scrambled eggs on toast.Stewed chicken, with paprika. Cold chicken.Devilled slices of Westphalian Cold ham.ham (boiled in wine).Tunny fish, pickled. Bismarck herrings.Rice, burst in cream. Stewed apples.Guava jelly. Swiss cheese.Consequence: Yesterday I was well and happy, and looked forward to a goodnight's sleep, which came off. To-day I am dull and heavy, alsorestless, and I am convinced that at sleeping-time my liver will have itall its own way.
The journey to Ragusa, and thence to Plazac, is writ large with a pigmentof misery on at least one human heart. Let a silence fall upon it! Insuch wise only can Justice and Mercy join hands.
Plazac is a miserable place. There is not a decent hotel in it. It wasperhaps on this account that the new King, Rupert, had erected for thealleged convenience of his guests of the Press a series of largetemporary hotels, such as were in evidence at the St. Louis Exposition.Here each guest was given a room to himself, somewhat after the nature ofthe cribs in a Rowton house. From my first night in it I am able tospeak from experience of the sufferings of a prisoner of the third class.I am, however, bound to say that the dining and reception rooms were,though uncomfortably plain, adequate for temporary use. Happily we shallnot have to endure many more meals here, as to-morrow we all dine withthe King in the State House; and as the cuisine is under the control ofthat _cordon bleu_, Gaston de Faux Pas, who so long controlled thegastronomic (we might almost say Gastonomic) destinies of the Rois desDiamants in the Place Vendome, we may, I think, look forward to not goingto bed hungry. Indeed, the anticipations formed from a survey of ourmeagre sleeping accommodation were not realized at dinnertime to-night.To our intense astonishment, an excellent dinner was served, though, tobe sure, the cold dishes predominated (a thing I always find bad forone's liver). Just as we were finishing, the King (nominated) cameamongst us in quite an informal way, and, having bidden us a heartywelcome, asked that we should drink a glass of wine together. This wedid in an excellent (if rather sweet) glass of Cliquot '93. King Rupert(nominated) then asked us to resume our seats. He walked between thetables, now and again recognizing some journalistic friend whom he hadmet early in life in his days of adventure. The men spoken to seemedvastly pleased--with themselves probably. Pretty bad form of them, Icall it! For myself, I was glad I had not previously met him in the samecasual way, as it saved me from what I should have felt ahumiliation--the being patronized in that public way by a prospectiveKing who had not (in a Court sense) been born. The writer, who is byprofession a barrister-at-law, is satisfied at being himself a countygentleman and heir to an historic estate in the ancient county of Salop,which can boast a larger population than the Land of the Blue Mountains.
EDITORIAL NOTE.--We must ask our readers to pardon the report inyesterday's paper sent from Plazac. The writer was not on our regularstaff, but asked to be allowed to write the report, as he was a kinsmanof King Rupert of the Blue Mountains, and would therefore be in aposition to obtain special information and facilities of description"from inside," as he puts it. On reading the paper, we cabled hisrecall; we cabled also, in case he did not obey, to have his ejectmenteffected forthwith.
We have also cabled Mr. Mordred Booth, the well-known correspondent, whowas, to our knowledge, in Plazac for his own purposes, to send us full(and proper) details. We take it our readers will prefer a graphicaccount of the ceremony to a farrago of cheap menus, comments on his ownliver, and a belittling of an Englishman of such noble character andachievements that a rising nation has chosen him for their King, and onewhom our own nation loves to honour. We shall not, of course, mentionour abortive correspondent's name, unless compelled thereto by any futureutterance of his.