CHAPTER XI
HIS MAJESTY AT THE SEASIDE
I sent Mrs. Putchy and General Mary Jane down to the house, which Ihad engaged on the "Lees" at Folkestone, the day before we were to go,in order to see that everything was ready for us.
"The only thing that is wrong is the kitchen chimney, and that smokes,sir," said Mrs. Putchy, in answer to my inquiry on the night of ourarrival. "I think that we had better have the sweep in the morning,sir."
"Very well, Mrs. Putchy, I'm sure you know best," I replied, andthought no more of the matter.
Early in the morning, however, I was awakened by screams and criesproceeding from the lower part of the house.
"Help! help! Burglars! Fire and police! Thieves!" screamed a voice,and hastily dressing myself, I rushed out into the passage, and wasconfronted by the Rhymester, who had evidently just jumped out of bed,and who, though it was broad daylight, bore a lighted candle in onehand, and a pair of fire tongs in the other.
His teeth were chattering with fright, and his knees were knockingtogether from the same cause.
"What's the matter," I asked in alarm.
"Oh! oh! there are burglars in the house," he cried excitedly, "andthe others have gone down to them; I'm sure they'll be killed--I toldthem not to go, but they would. Let's go and hide under a bedsomewhere. Oh! oh, what will become of us?"
"Don't be such a coward," I cried, hurrying down stairs, while thepoor little Rhymester, afraid to be left alone upstairs, tremblinglyfollowed.
Sure enough there was a sound of struggling going on, and voicesraised in loud dispute.
"Oh, that story won't do for me," I heard the Doctor-in-Law exclaim.
"But I tell yez, sor," chimed in another strange voice, "I waz onlygoing to----"
"Never mind what you were going to do, give up the sack," said theDoctor-in-Law.
Then there were sounds of struggling, and amidst the confusion a voicesaying:
"Hold him down! Sit on him! That's right! Now for the sack."
And, bursting the door open, a curious sight met my eyes. A poor sweeplay flat upon the floor, with the Wallypug sitting upon him, andOne-and-Nine keeping guard; while the Doctor-in-Law and A. Fish, Esq.,examined his bag of soot in the corner. The poor little Rhymestersummoned up sufficient courage to peep in at the doorway, and stoodthere making a piteous picture, with his white face and tremblinglimbs.
"Whatever is the matter," I inquired as soon as I entered.
"We've caught him!" exclaimed his Majesty, complacently wriggling histoes about.
"But what's he been doing," I asked.
"WE'VE CAUGHT HIM!"]
"Av ye plaze, sor," groaned the man, panting beneath the Wallypug'sweight, "I have been doing nothing at all, at all. I waz justa-finishin' me warrak of swapin' the chimneys, wen one ov the ouldgintleman came up an' poked me in the nose with a sthick, and theother ould gintleman knocked me over and sthole me bag, while thesoger hild me down till the other gintleman sat on me--it's among alot of murtherin' thaves I've got entoirely, savin' yer presince,sor."
"The man is a burglar," declared the Doctor-in-Law emphatically. "Ihappened to hear a very suspicious noise down here, and calling to theothers, rushed down just in time to catch this man making off with abag of things. I think he was trying to escape up the chimney, for hishead was half-way up when we entered, and this bag, which evidentlycontains plunder of some kind, is covered with soot too."
"Why, the man is a sweep, and was sweeping the chimney," I cried,pointing to his brushes and sticks; and after a lot of explanationsthe man was told to get up and his Majesty, followed by the others,retired to his bedroom, evidently greatly disappointed that it was nota real burglar that they had been combating.
The sweep, who was a very good-natured Irishman, took it in very goodpart, and the present of half-a-crown sent him away quite reconciledto his assailants.
The Rhymester afterwards made a great boast that he had not taken anypart in the melee.
"Of course I knew all along that he wasn't a burglar," he declared,"and that's the reason why I wouldn't interfere."
"You managed to do a good deal of screaming though, I noticed,"remarked the Doctor-in-Law grumpily.
"Ah! that was only for fun," asserted the Rhymester.
This was really about the only remarkable incident which occurredduring our holiday at Folkestone, which passed very pleasantly andvery quietly. We went for a sea bathe nearly every day, and hisMajesty would insist upon wearing his crown in the water on everyoccasion.
"No one will know that I am a king if I don't," he declared; and I ambound to admit that his Majesty did not look very regal in his bathingcostume, particularly when he was dripping with water and his longstraight hair hung half over his face, and even when he wore hiscrown he was continually catching bits of seaweed in it, which gavehim a singularly untidy appearance for a king.
HIS MAJESTY DID NOT LOOK VERY REGAL]
A. Fish, Esq., with the assistance of a lifebuoy, nearly learned toswim while we were down there; but the Doctor-in-Law thought thathiring bathing machines was a foolish waste of money, and contentedhimself with taking off his shoes and stockings and paddling, which hecould do without having to pay. One day, however, he was knockedcompletely over by an incoming wave, and got wet to the skin.
We could never persuade the Rhymester either, to go out further thanjust to his knees; but I rather fancy that that was because he wasafraid of wetting his bathing costume, of which he was particularlyproud, and which was decorated with smart little bows of ribbonwherever they could be conveniently put.
Fear may have had something to do with it though, for I noticed thathe always clung very tightly to the rope, and never by any chance wentbeyond its length.
The switchback railway was a source of infinite amusement, and a greatdeal of time was spent on it. Boating was not much indulged in, as itmade one or two of the party, particularly A. Fish, Esq., very ill;but we all enjoyed the beautiful drives in the neighbourhood. Therewas an excellent Punch and Judy show in the town too, which sofascinated his Majesty that we could scarcely tear him away wheneverhe joined the admiring crowd which daily surrounded it.
The fickle One-and-Nine, while we were here, fell in love with a waxfigure exhibited in a hair-dresser's window in Sandgate Road. Itrepresented a beautiful lady with her hair dressed in the latestfashion, and the wooden soldier was greatly infatuated. He spenthours gazing through the window, watching the lady slowly revolve byclockwork; and he became frightfully jealous of the hair-dresser, whomhe caught one morning rearranging the drapery around the lady'sshoulders.
Eventually, with the assistance of the Rhymester, he composed thefollowing piece of poetry--which he stuck, by means of six gelatinesweets, on to the hair-dresser's window with the writing inside, inorder that the lady might see it.
TO THE BEAUTIFUL LADY IN THE HAIRDRESSER'S WINDOW.
I love you, oh! I love you, And I beg you to be mine; I'm a gallant wooden soldier, And my name is 1/9.
If you will only marry me, 'Twill be the greatest fun To puzzle folks by telling them, That we're both 2/1.
'Twill be the truth, for man and wife Are one, I beg to state, This fact's as clear as 4/4, Or 2/6 make 8.
They tell me, dear, you have no feet; But what is that to me? 2 feet be 4/2 behind On animals you see.
That you have none, is 0 to me, Dear 1/4 your sake, No trifles such as these shall e'er My true affections shake.
I bought some penny tarts for you, But I am much distrest To tell you by mistake I sat On 1/8 the rest.
One-and-Nine was quite happy in finding that the paper had disappearedfrom the shop window when he passed by a little later, and declaredthat it must mean that the lady had accepted him and his poetry.
I think the funniest incident of all though, in connection with ourvisit to Folkestone, was when his Majesty and the others went intoCarlo Maestran
i's for some ices.
They had never tasted any before, and were very much surprised to findthem so cold. I shall never forget the expression on the Wallypug'sface when, having rather greedily taken a very large mouthful, hecould not swallow it, or dispose of it in any way. A. Fish, Esq.,declared that it gave him a violent toothache; while the Doctor-in-Lawcalled for the waiter, and insisted upon him taking it away.
"IT'S NOT PROPERLY COOKED"]
"It's not properly cooked," he declared angrily. "It's cold."
"Cook, sare, no, sare, it is not cook," agreed the waiter.
"Very well, then, take it away and bring us some that is. Have itwarmed up; do something with it. It's disgraceful bringing us stufflike that."
And no argument or persuasion would convince the little man that theices were as they should be.