by Phil Edwards
‘Someday,' said the Chicken Cutlet at last, with a deep sigh, 'I shall be a Chicken again.'
These words were followed by a very long silence, broken only by an occasional exclamation of 'Hjckrrh!' from the Gryphon, and the constant heavy sobbing of the Chicken Cutlet. Snooki was very nearly getting up and saying, 'Thank you, sir, for your interesting story,' but she could not help thinking there MUST be more to come, so she sat still and said nothing.
'When we were little,' the Chicken Cutlet went on at last, more calmly, though still sobbing a little now and then, 'we went to school in the pasture. The master was an old Chicken—we used to call him Breaded—'
'Why did you call him Breaded?' Snooki asked.
'We called him Breaded because he was already covered in crumbs,' said the Chicken Cutlet angrily: 'really you are very dull!'
'You ought to be ashamed of yourself for asking such a simple question,' added the Gryphon; and then they both sat silent and looked at poor Snooki, who felt ready to sink into the earth. At last the Gryphon said to the Chicken Cutlet, 'Drive on, old fellow! Don't be all day about it!' and he went on in these words:
'Yes, we went to school in the pasture, though you mayn't believe it—'
'I never said I didn't!' interrupted Snooki.
'You did,' said the Chicken Cutlet.
'Hold your tongue!' added the Gryphon, before Snooki could speak again. The Chicken Cutlet went on.
'We had the best of educations—in fact, we went to school every day—'
'I'VE been to a day-school, too,' said Snooki; 'you needn't be so proud as all that.'
'With extras?' asked the Chicken Cutlet a little anxiously.
'Yes,' said Snooki, 'we learned French and music.'
'And washing?' said the Chicken Cutlet.
'Certainly not!' said Snooki indignantly.
'Ah! then yours wasn't a really good school,' said the Chicken Cutlet in a tone of great relief. 'Now at OURS they had at the end of the bill, "French, music, AND WASHING—extra."'
'You couldn't have wanted it much,' said Snooki; 'living in a pasture.'
'I couldn't afford to learn it.' said the Chicken Cutlet with a sigh. 'I only took the regular course.'
'What was that?' inquired Snooki.
'Reeling and Writhing, of course, to begin with,' the Chicken Cutlet replied; 'and then the different branches of Arithmetic—Ambition, Distraction, Uglification, and Derision.'
'I never heard of "Uglification,"' Snooki ventured to say. 'What is it?'
The Gryphon lifted up both its paws in surprise. 'What! Never heard of uglifying!' it exclaimed. 'You know what to beautify is, I suppose?'
'Yes,' said Snooki doubtfully: 'it means to make anything prettier.'
'Well, then,' the Gryphon went on, 'if you don't know what to uglify is, you ARE a simpleton.'
Snooki did not feel encouraged to ask any more questions about it, so she turned to the Chicken Cutlet, and said 'What else had you to learn?'
'Well, there was Mystery,' the Chicken Cutlet replied, counting off the subjects where his wings had once been, '—Mystery, ancient and modern, with Pasturography: then Drawling—the Drawling-master was an old turkey, that used to come once a week: HE taught us Drawling, Stretching, and Fainting in Coils.'
'What was THAT like?' said Snooki.
'Well, I can't show it you myself,' the Chicken Cutlet said: 'I'm too stiff. And the Gryphon never learnt it.'
'Hadn't time,' said the Gryphon: 'I went to the Classics master, though. He was an old liar, HE was. Or a lion, I can’t remember.'
'I never went to him,' the Chicken Cutlet said with a sigh: 'he taught Laughing and Grief, they used to say.'
'So he did, so he did,' said the Gryphon, sighing in his turn; and both creatures hid their faces.
'And how many hours a day did you do lessons?' said Snooki, in a hurry to change the subject.
'Ten hours the first day,' said the Chicken Cutlet: 'nine the next, and so on.'
'What a curious plan!' exclaimed Snooki.
'That's the reason they're called lessons,' the Gryphon remarked: 'because they lessen from day to day.'
This was quite a new idea to Snooki, and she thought it over a little before she made her next remark. 'Then the eleventh day must have been a holiday?'
'Of course it was,' said the Chicken Cutlet.
'And how did you manage on the twelfth?' Snooki went on eagerly.
'That's enough about lessons,' the Gryphon interrupted in a very decided tone: 'tell her something about the games now.'
CHAPTER X. The Lobster Quadrille
The Chicken Cutlet sighed deeply. He looked at Snooki, and tried to speak, but for a minute or two sobs choked his voice.
'Same as if he had a bone in his throat,' said the Gryphon: and it set to work shaking him and punching him in the back. At last the Chicken Cutlet recovered his voice, and, with tears running down his cheeks, he went on again:—
'You may not have lived much in a pasture—' ('I haven't,' said Snooki)—'and perhaps you were never even introduced to a lobster—' (Snooki began to say 'I would never eat a lobster because it’s alive when you kill it—' but checked herself hastily, and said 'No, never') '—so you can have no idea what a delightful thing a Lobster Quadrille is!'
'No, indeed,' said Snooki.
‘The Breaded Chicken Cutlet took us little cutlets to the seashore,’ the Chicken Cutlet moaned, ‘so that lobsters might be cut instead of us.’
'What sort of a dance is it?' asked Snooki.
'Why,' said the Gryphon, 'you first form into a line along the sea-shore—'
'Two lines!' cried the Chicken Cutlet. 'Seals, turtles, salmon, and so on; then, when you've cleared all the jelly-fish out of the way—'
'THAT generally takes some time,' interrupted the Gryphon.
'—you advance twice—'
'Each with a lobster as a partner!' cried the Gryphon.
'Of course,' the Chicken Cutlet said: 'advance twice, set to partners—'
'—change lobsters, and retire in same order,' continued the Gryphon.
'Then, you know,' the Chicken Cutlet went on, 'you throw the—'
'The lobsters!' shouted the Gryphon, with a bound into the air.
'—as far out to sea as you can—'
'Swim after them!' screamed the Gryphon.
‘Fist-pump in the sea!' cried the Chicken Cutlet, capering wildly about.
'Change lobsters again!' yelled the Gryphon at the top of its voice.
'Back to land again, and that's all the first figure,' said the Chicken Cutlet, suddenly dropping his voice; and the two creatures, who had been jumping about like mad things all this time, sat down again very sadly and quietly, and looked at Snooki.
'It must be a very pretty dance,' said Snooki timidly.
'Would you like to see a little of it?' said the Chicken Cutlet.
'Very much indeed,' said Snooki.
'Come, let's try the first figure!' said the Chicken Cutlet to the Gryphon. 'We can do without lobsters, you know. Which shall sing?'
'Oh, YOU sing,' said the Gryphon. 'I've forgotten the words.'
So they began solemnly grinding round and round Snooki, every now and then treading on her toes when they passed too close, and waving their forepaws to mark the time, while the Chicken Cutlet sang this, very slowly and sadly:—
'"Will you walk a little faster?" said a whiting to a snail.
"There's a porpoise close behind us, and he's treading on my tail.
See how eagerly the lobsters and the chicken cutlets all advance!
They are waiting on the shingle—will you come and join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance?
"You can really have no notion how delightful it will be
When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to sea!"
But the snail replied "T
oo far, too far!" and gave a look askance—
Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance.
Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance.
Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join the dance.
'"What matters it how far we go?" his scaly friend replied.
"There is another shore, you know, upon the other side.
The further off from England the nearer is to France—
Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance.
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance?"'
'Thank you, it's a very interesting dance to watch,' said Snooki, feeling very glad that it was over at last: 'and I do so like that curious song about the whiting!'
'Oh, as to the whiting,' said the Chicken Cutlet, 'they—you've seen them, of course?'
'Yes,' said Snooki, 'I've often seen them at dinn—' she checked herself hastily.
'I don't know where Dinn may be,' said the Chicken Cutlet, 'but if you've seen them so often, of course you know what they're like.'
'I believe so,' Snooki replied thoughtfully. 'They have their tails in their mouths—and they're all over crumbs.'
'You're wrong about the crumbs,' said the Chicken Cutlet: 'crumbs would all wash off in the sea. But they HAVE their tails in their mouths; and the reason is—' here the Chicken Cutlet yawned and shut his eyes.—'Tell her about the reason and all that,' he said to the Gryphon.
'The reason is,' said the Gryphon, 'that they WOULD go with the lobsters to the dance. So they got thrown out to sea. So they had to fall a long way. So they got their tails fast in their mouths. So they couldn't get them out again. That's all.'
'Thank you,' said Snooki, 'it's very interesting. I never knew so much about a whiting before.'
'I can tell you more than that, if you like,' said the Gryphon. 'Do you know why it's called a whiting?'
'I never thought about it,' said Snooki. 'Why?'
'IT DOES THE BOOTS AND SHOES.' the Gryphon replied very solemnly.
Snooki was thoroughly puzzled. 'Does the boots and shoes!' she repeated in a wondering tone.
'Why, what are YOUR shoes done with?' said the Gryphon. 'I mean, what makes them so shiny?'
Snooki looked down at them, and considered a little before she gave her answer. 'They're done with blacking, I believe.'
'Boots and shoes under the sea,' the Gryphon went on in a deep voice, 'are done with a whiting. Now you know.'
'And what are they made of?' Snooki asked in a tone of great curiosity.
'Soles and eels, of course,' the Gryphon replied rather impatiently: 'any shrimp could have told you that.'
'If I'd been the whiting,' said Snooki, whose thoughts were still running on the song, 'I'd have said to the porpoise, "Keep back, please: we don't want YOU with us!"'
'They were obliged to have him with them,' the Chicken Cutlet said: 'no wise fish would go anywhere without a porpoise.'
'Wouldn't it really?' said Snooki in a tone of great surprise.
'Of course not,' said the Chicken Cutlet: 'why, if a fish came to ME, and told me he was going a journey, I should say "With what porpoise?"'
'Don't you mean "purpose"?' said Snooki.
'I mean what I say,' the Chicken Cutlet replied in an offended tone. And the Gryphon added 'Come, let's hear some of YOUR adventures.'
'I could tell you my adventures—beginning from this morning,' said Snooki a little timidly: 'but it's no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.'
'Explain all that,' said the Chicken Cutlet.
'No, no! The adventures first,' said the Gryphon in an impatient tone: 'explanations take such a dreadful time.'
So Snooki began telling them her adventures from the time when she first saw JWoww. She was a little nervous about it just at first, the two creatures got so close to her, one on each side, and opened their eyes and mouths so VERY wide, but she gained courage as she went on.
Her listeners were perfectly quiet till she got to the part about her repeating the Jersey Shore promotion to the Caterpillar, and the words all coming different, and then the Chicken Cutlet drew a long breath, and said 'That's very curious.'
'It's all about as curious as it can be,' said the Gryphon.
'It all came different!' the Chicken Cutlet repeated thoughtfully. 'I should like to hear her try and repeat something now. Tell her to begin.' He looked at the Gryphon as if he thought it had some kind of authority over Snooki.
'Stand up and repeat "'TIS THE VOICE OF THE SLUGGARD,"' said the Gryphon.
'How the creatures order one about, and make one repeat lessons!' thought Snooki; 'I might as well be at school at once.' However, she got up, and began to repeat it, but her head was so full of the Lobster Quadrille, that she hardly knew what she was saying, and the words came very queer indeed:—
''Tis the voice of the Lobster; I heard him declare,
"You have baked me too brown, I must sugar my hair."
As a duck with its eyelids, so he with his nose
Trims his belt and his buttons, and turns out his toes.'
'That's different from what I used to say when I was a child,' said the Gryphon.
'Well, I never heard it before,' said the Chicken Cutlet; 'but it sounds uncommon nonsense.'
Snooki said nothing; she had sat down with her face in her hands, wondering if anything would EVER happen in a natural way again.
'I should like to have it explained,' said the Chicken Cutlet.
'She can't explain it,' said the Gryphon hastily. 'Go on with the next verse.'
'But about his toes?' the Chicken Cutlet persisted. 'How COULD he turn them out with his nose, you know?'
'It's the first position in dancing.' Snooki said; but was dreadfully puzzled by the whole thing, and longed to change the subject.
'Go on with the next verse,' the Gryphon repeated impatiently: 'it begins "I passed by his garden."'
Snooki did not dare to disobey, though she felt sure it would all come wrong, and she went on in a trembling voice:—
'I passed by his garden, and marked, with one eye,
How the Owl and the Panther were sharing a pie—'
'What IS the use of repeating all that stuff,' the Chicken Cutlet interrupted, 'if you don't explain it as you go on? It's by far the most confusing thing I ever heard!'
'Yes, I think you'd better leave off,' said the Gryphon: and Snooki was only too glad to do so.
'Shall we try another figure of the Lobster Quadrille?' the Gryphon went on. 'Or would you like the Chicken Cutlet to sing you a song?'
'Oh, a song, please, if the Chicken Cutlet would be so kind,' Snooki replied, so eagerly that the Gryphon said, in a rather offended tone, 'Hm! No accounting for tastes! Sing her "Chicken Cutlet Night," will you, old fellow?'
The Chicken Cutlet sighed deeply, and began, in a voice sometimes choked with sobs, to sing this:—
‘Chicken Cutlets, tender and sweet,
waiting for all of us to eat,
gather round and dine tonight-
Chicken Cutlets sound just right!
Chicken Cutlets sound just right!
Chick-ennn Cut-lettts!
Chick-ennn Cut-lettts!
Chicken Cutlets, leave calamari behind,
And lobsters we shall not mind,
So cut the lets and our stomachs shall quicken,
For a sweet taste of cutletted Chicken.
Chick-ennn Cut-letts!
Chick-ennn Cut-letts!
Chick-ennn, Chick-enn, Cutlets!’
'Chorus again!' cried the Gryphon, and the Chicken Cutlet had just begun to repeat it, when a cry of 'The trial's beginning!' was heard in the distance.
'Come on!' cried the Gryphon, and, taking Snooki by the hand, it hurried off, without waiting for the end of the song.
'What tria
l is it?' Snooki panted as she ran; but the Gryphon only answered 'Come on!' and ran the faster, while more and more faintly came, carried on the breeze that followed them, the melancholy words:—
‘Chick-ennn Cut-letts!
Chick-ennn, Chick-enn, Cutlets!’
CHAPTER XI. Who Stole the Tarts? And Where Are the Grenades?
The King and Queen of Hearts were seated on their throne when they arrived, with a great crowd assembled about them—all sorts of little birds and beasts and juice heads, as well as the whole pack of cards: the Knave was standing before them, in chains, with a soldier on each side to guard him; and near the King Ronnie was JWoww, with a trumpet in one hand, and a scroll of parchment in the other. In the very middle of the court was a table, with a large dish of tarts upon it: they looked so good, that it made Snooki quite hungry to look at them—'I wish they'd get the trial done,' she thought, 'and hand round the liquid refreshments!' But there seemed to be no chance of this, so she began looking at everything about her, to pass away the time.
Snooki had never been in a court of justice before, but she had read about them in books, and she was quite pleased to find that she knew the name of nearly everything there. 'That's the judge,' she said to herself, 'because of his large head.'
The judge, by the way, was the King Ronnie; he did not look at all comfortable, and his large head was certainly not becoming.
'And that's the jury-box,' thought Snooki, 'and those twelve creatures,' (she was obliged to say 'creatures,' you see, because some of them were animals, and some were birds,) 'I suppose they are the jurors.' She said this last word two or three times over to herself, being rather proud of it: for she thought, and rightly too, that very few little guidettes of her age knew the meaning of it at all. However, 'jury-men' would have done just as well.
