by C. S. Lewis
Arrived before the solid house, he was shown into a salon furnished in the solid splendour and comfort which the old soldier affected. Presently the owner entered: let us observe Field Marshal Frederic Jones Quicksteppe as he is in his 51st year. A tall man of thin once athletic frame, with a flowing brindled beard: a countenance whose noble brow betrayed profound wisdom, while the roguish twinkle in the eyes told that in his laxer moments he might be what is vulgarly termed ‘a gay old spark’.
‘By dear Big! This is an unexpected pleasure.’
‘Good morning. Ah, Quicksteppe what have you been doing abroad?’
‘Resting: you seem perturbed.’
‘Ah it is this new Clique is bothering me. As you know there [are] many people in it of whom I disaprove. Especially that parrot – Green.’
‘Oh: I am sorrey of that.’
‘Of course I said to the boys – I mean to the Majesties – that they ought to sign a formal objection to the bird: naturally I don’t really mean that they should go so far, but then they don’t take any notice.’
‘My dear Big,’ cried Quicksteppe, ‘you’ve made a fool of yourself.’
‘My Lord!!’
‘Yes. What if they happen to take you at your word?’
‘Ah, indeed there such fellows I never know what they may do!’
‘Well, get back to the palace at once & see them. When does the meeting start?’
‘At 11.’
‘Just time.’
‘Good-morning.’
The frog dashed back to his carriage & made what speed he might back to the palace. Here needless to say he did not find them, because they were at the Regency with Puddiphat.
CHAPTER III
* * * * * * *
When we left them, the two kings had entered the Inner of the Regency, and soon found Viscount Puddiphat, still breaking his fast; this remarkable owl deserves some attention. He was the gayest of all gay Boxonian society, and was reputed to know more about matters sartorial than anyone else alive. He was the proprietor of a large number of eminently successful music-halls called the Alhambras. In appearance he was plump, immaculate, and self-satisfied.
‘Good morning your Majesties!’ cried the owl. ‘I hear you are having your new Clique meeting to day.’
‘I believe so,’ said Bunny with a prodigious yawn, ‘but by Jove we’ll make things hum.’
‘Why? Have Your Majesties any scheme on?’
‘Scheme!’ reiterated the rajah. ‘Rather! We are going to formally object to Polonius Green; at least that is what we are thinking of and we came to ask your advice.’
Puddiphat rose & lit a cigar. ‘Yes: by all means do so. The bird annoys me by the way he wears his clothes. And as well it will make things move.’
SIR. CHAS. ARABUDDA, THEODORE, MR REGINALD VANT, SIR GOOSE, H.M. THE RAJAH, GENERAL QUICKSTEPPE AND VISCOUNT PUDDIPHAT IN THE LOBBY OF THE HOUSE.
Thanking their friend for his council the two boys decided that, as it was now late, they would go at once to the Clique-meeting. With this intention they directed their steps towards the House of Parliament. Having arrived at the stately pile they entered and came into the robing room, which opened off the Clique-chamber. Here they took of coats & waistcoats preparatory to clothing their bodies in the official emblems of their kingship. Having got this far, Benjamin produced a bottle of Zauber which they both sipped reflectively. Meanwhile Big arrived in the Clique-room outside, and while awaiting his fellow-members heard the kings he desired to warn talking inside the robing-room: here he was in a nice dilemma for no one except the monarchs (according to a venerable custom) was allowed into that apartment.
‘Ah, upon my word!’ cried the frog beginning to pace up & down the room, ‘Its too bad. If I can’t get at them before the meeting they’re sure to create a scandal over this wretched parrot.’
The other members now began to arrive. First came Oliver Vant, brother to Reginald Vant the Pig. This worthy was a melancholy stockbroker, who, although he had an excellent knowlledge of his own business, was in outer life what vulgar people call a cod. He at once walked up to the already distracted Little-Master, who was still pacing up & down.
‘My dear Lord Big, how can I express my delight at seeing that you have adopted Professor Brockenhardt’s method of indoor exercise!’
‘I beg your pardon Mr Vant!?’
‘No not at all, Little Master! True I was the first to adopt this system, but I do not accuse you of plaguerism. In point of fact –’
‘My Vant!! Either you are mentally deranged or you have come here for the very purpose of insulting me!’
Fortunately the argument was stopped by the arrival en masse of the other members, Colonel Fortescue, Sir Bradshaw, and Polonius Green.
Fortescue was an army man, who also kept some music halls. Bradshaw was an able barrister and competent politician. Polonius Green as we know was a small ship owner. There also entered the usher, a lugubrious tortoise. The 2 kings now appeared looking very uncomfortable in robes & crowns. Before them the usher bore the double crown of Boxen, in addition to their individual circlets. Benjamin spoilt everything by entering with his set at a racy angle: at a look, however, from the Little-Master he restored it to a horizontal position. As the party seated themselves round the table, Big made frantic but useless efforts to whisper in the Rajah’s ear. Finding this unfeasable he at last addressed the Clique.
‘Your Majesties, and Gentlemen: the business of the Clique to day is Mr Green’s motion, the purport of which he has not thought fit to reveal. I request him to speak.’
The bird rose. ‘Yer Majesties, Little Master and Gents.’ (At this juncture Big said to their majesties in an aside ‘Ah, he’s poor, poor!’) ‘The motion I purpose is that there should be a Chessman in this Clique.’ (Big who abominated the Chessmen as aliens gave a start.) ‘Considering the number of Chessmen in the country and the positions they hold, it is only fair that they should sit in the Clique. The advantages fer this are too obvious to pint out, so I’ll say no more.’
Big rose. ‘Your Majesties, and Gentlemen’ (with much stress on the last word – at this point Polonius broke in ‘Gents, Gents, m’lord, much shorter.’ – ‘Keep the bird quiet usher!’ roared Big in fury. ‘In answer to Mr Green’s proposal I say that Chessmen are aliens, nothing more: if indeed they hold high positions, they should not.’
SOUTH DOLFIN-LAND AND THE TRACITIES.
Polonius broke in. ‘M’lord, ye’d do better not to say much about aliens. Because, yer one yerself, not fergetting you come from the dependant island of Piscia, which is only a colony, all said & done.’
For a whole minute the frog stood paralysed with an ungovernable fury. Then taking from his pocket a handkerchief, he flipped the bird in the face, saying as he did so, ‘Meet me on the Bumregis road with what weapons you like at 3 to morrow morning.’
CHAPTER IV
* * * * * * *
For nearly 3 minutes intense silence hung over the Clique. The Rajah & Bunny gave a faint giggle, Mr Vant mournfully shook his head at Green, Bradshaw coughed, and Lord Big stood still in his rage: the only person who appeared absolutely at his ease was Polonius Green, who presently broke the silence by saying, ‘3 in the morning My Lord, is an hour when all sober and respectable citizens have retired. If you are still gadding about at that time, that’s no reason fer expec’ing others to join you in vulgar brawls.’
RUINS OF THE FIRST UNITED BOXONIAN PARLIAMENT HOUSE IN PISCIA.
This disgraceful speech left every other member of the Clique absolutely astounded: the Little-Master had by this time however sufficiently collected his faculties to reply in these words:
‘Your Majesties, and Gentlemen, Mr Green has accused me of being an alien as a native of Piscia. I could defend myself from this charge, – were I so inclined –, on the gound that I was born in Mouseland, and educated at Danphabel School, never even seeing Piscia untill my twentyeth year. But, Gentlemen, I will not call this up in my defence, becau
se it is the greatest regret of my life that I was not born in my native land, a land of Ruins of the first united Boxonian Parliament House in Piscia which its sons are justly proud as their fatherland. Those of you who know ancient history will remember that the Empire of Piscia was civilized and powerful under its emperor Pau-Amma, 200 years before the Pongeeins invaded Animalland and reduced it to their crude order. In more modern times Piscia is still as brilliant as in the old days. Was she not honoured by being the seat of the first united Parliament of Boxen? And why, do you think was it chosen to be such? Doubtless our feathered friend would tell us, “Because it was part of neither country & therefore favoured neither.” But no, a thousand times no. It was because it was part of both countries & therefore favoured both equally. This island gave birth to Little-Master White, a frog, perhaps the greatest Little Master ever seen by Boxen. Does Mr Green, knowing as he ought to the greatness of Piscia, call me an alien? I do not remonstrate on account of the insult offered to me, but on account of the dirt thrown by a bird on the hitherto clean escutcheon of one of Boxen’s most important states.
‘Gentlemen, if I have wandered somewhat from the actual subject of this debate, I crave your pardon, only pleading as my excuse the human weakness of not being able to sit by and calmly submit to the dastardly insults this member was heaping on me, on my countrymen, & worst of all on Piscia herself. To return to this same member’s motion that Chessmen should sit in the Clique: – Mr Green speaks of the high positions held by this homeless nation of restless vagabonds. I grant you, Mr Green, that Chessmen do hold important offices, but you will grant me that they have been elected to the same by the country. This same country is so used to seeing these aliens in places that should be their own that they fail to realise the monstrous wrong and injustices of it all: so they vote for Chessmen blithely, but not credit to the aliens themselves. Let us sift the matter to the bottom! Who are these Chess? They are a nation without a country, a people without a king, a mighty force without a standing army. Yes! Without a country yet every country in the world is theirs. They live in this land, they do not pay our taxes but they are protected by our laws. They collect money, and give nothing in return. Oh!, have they not enough unmerited privileges, that you would add this one thing more.’
A storm of furious applause shook the Clique Room as the old frog sat down. All eyes naturally turned to the parrot to see what affect the speech had had upon him: he sat with ruffled feathers in one corner glaring at his opponent. No sentiment of the grandeur of the defence influenced him, no shame for his behaviour. Only annoyance at the failure of his motion.
At this juncture Benjamin rose & said, ‘Whereas, we the kings of Boxen, do hereby lodge a formal objection against Polonius Green Esquire, he is no longer a member of the Clique.’
CHAPTER V
* * * * * * *
To the Little Master, as we have seen, Chessmen were an abomination, as a class. But he was sensible enough not to condemn individual Chess whom he really liked. And none did he like better than Samuel Macgoullah, a knight. This worthy was not a member of Boxonian city society, but he was before everything a gentlemen. Although he dressed in a pea-jacket, although he spoke with a strong Murry accent, although he went to the pit in theatres & took a gladstone-bag full of oranges, although he captained his own little schooner the Bosphorous, Macgoullah was a gentleman. True, some snobs did not recognize the fact because when he became rich and an M.P. he still lived as he always had done. On the evening after the meeting of the new Clique, he would have been found sitting in the Inner of the Schooner Inn (a homely & comfortable hostelry in the docks) with 2 friends.
MEETING OF FRIENDS IN ‘THE SCHOONER.’
One of these was Mr Green, and the other needs some comment. He was a bear clad in the uniform of a naval chief steward, or as he liked to call it ‘purser’. He was short and inclined to corpulence, good-humoured, and self-satisfied: in fact he was Jas. Bar Purser of H.M. gunboat Thrush. One cannot say more!
Green was talking to both loudly. ‘This d – d toad, & these two fellows ye call kings have had the impudence to turn me out of their Clique.’
‘Never mind, Polonius,’ said Macgoullah consolingly, ‘its no great loss.’
Bar had been one of the many who had tried 3 months ago to get a place in the new Clique, but without success: consequently he had no sympathy with the bird.
‘’Pon my word Green,’ he cried, ‘your hard to please. You’ve been in the Clique for 3 months, & I havn’t had a day! But I’m not making a song about it.’
‘Three months, you little scugy! And only had one meeting.’
‘Ah well,’ put in Macgoullah, ‘the only thing to do is to try & get another Clique formed.’
‘Billocks!! I want personal revenge on the toad & his 2 young friends –’
‘No!’ shouted the Chessknight, ‘Not a word against their majesties, they’ve always been good friends to me.’
‘Lot of use their friendship to you is to me, you sloppy mule! But I’ll go for the toad!’
‘A duel?’ said Bar.
‘A duel,’ said the bird with scorn, ‘what d’ye take me fer? No, some little scheme: think of something.’
Bar was silent for some seconds & then cried ‘I have it,’ & burst into laughter.
‘What is it?’
But Bar only rocked to & from with aching sides & streaming eyes.
‘What is it?’ reiterated his friends. At last when Bar was able to explain his plan all 3 began a hearty guffaw at the scheme. It was as follows: to buy (at the Little-Master’s expence) 500 golf balls, with which they would (by the connivance of the palace servants) stuff his matress: if the plan was not sanguinary enough to suit Green, he at any rate kept that view to himself.
At this moment a servant entered and handed envelopes to Bar and Macgoullah: tearing his open the latter found the following missive: –
It is not everyone who is invited to a royal ball so our worthy Macgoullah was pleased. Bar’s was the same & they both announced the fact.
Green was annoyed.
CHAPTER VI
* * * * * * *
Great was the preparation of Bar and Macgoullah when the eventful evening arrived. Bar had hired a handsome to be ready for them both outside the ‘Schooner’ where they had arranged to meet.
As they drew near the palace, Regency Street became a mass of moving lights dancing to the music of horses’ hoofs and the powerful purr of motors: and it was not without difficulty that the hireling Jehu navigated them to the portals of Regency St Palace. Stepping out they were conducted by suave domestics to the cloak room, which, as is usually the case on these occasions, was crowded with knots of whispering guests fiddling with their gloves. There of course is Puddiphat immaculately clad; there is Reginald Pig the Shipowner dressed in solid and plain evening dress; there is Quicksteppe looking finer than ever as the electric light catches his glossy curling locks; there is Colonel Chutney, formerly head of the war office, but now removed to give place to Fortescue who is also present. After some time of nervous fumbling and brushing, Pig, the most couragious person present, led a sort of forlorn hope to the salon where their Majesties were recieving their guests and where stout domestics dispensed tea etc. The two kings were throwing all their histrionic powers into an imitation of enjoyment, and behind them stood the Little-Master looking rather worried. The boys kept up a continual flow of conversation: –
‘Good evening, My dear Pig! How are the ships? Ah, Viscount Puddiphat, very glad you came.’
‘Good evening Your Majesties. Ah my dear Little-Master I see you’ve been having busy times in the Clique.’
‘Yes,’ said Big drily.
The Duchess of Penzly came up, a heavy woman whom they all abominated.
‘Good evening Duchess. Hasn’t Miss Penzly – oh! Influenza? I am very sorrey to hear that.’ The Duchess passed on to Big. ‘Ah, Lord Big, this is a pleasure. How delighted I was to hear you had had some excitement in politi
cs, it does liven things up so, doesn’t it?’
‘It certainly does,’ responded the frog brusquely, and engaged a dance.
Little Bar now came up. The boys turned to him.
‘Good evening Mr Bar. Hot, isn’t it? It has been all day. Good evening Miss Eglington, I don’t think you’ve met Mr Bar. Allow me – Miss Eglington – Mr Bar: Mr Bar – the hon. Miss Eglington.’ Bar moved off dutifully to engage a dance, which he did.
‘Have you seen “The Three Looneys”?’ inquired Bar.
‘Yes. What did you think of it?’
‘Excellent. Of course the caricature of their Majesties and the Little-Master was rather obvious.’
‘Oh yes, but I don’t think they will take any offence.’
‘Not their Majesties but Lord Big may.’
The music now struck up the opening bars of the first waltz, and the actual dancing began. A detailed description of that famous evening would be tedious, so let it suffice to say that it was a great success, in spite of the fact that Big’s every partner mentioned the recent political rupture. True, one lady, gazing at the frog’s somewhat out of date costume, observed, ‘I wish I had known it was fancy dress, Little-Master: you quite remind one of the dear old times!’
At 3, all the guests having departed, our 3 friends were able to retire to their bedrooms. Lord Big, thoroughly tired lost no time in undressing and throwing himself on his bed.
What was that? Surely it hardly seemed as softly carressing as usual! And why was it so springy under him: it seemed to be entirely made of hard round balls! Perhaps it was only fancy, so he gallantly lay there for ten minutes. Then he could stand it no longer. The pain, – no other word was adequate – the pain was too intolerable. Wiping his brow he gazed at the couch of torment. Drawing a heavy sigh he began to pace the room. In the dead of night the time went slowly, and he decided he couldn’t walk about till dawn. He bent over the matress & examined it: he could not conceive what was the matter, so, with really wonderful fortitude, he decided to make another attempt. But in three minutes he leapt from the bed. He would not stand it, he told himself, he would open the matress, & diagnose the cause of the trouble. Drawing a pocket-knife he made a large slit in the envelope & shook it. A second later he regreted the rash act for a deluge of golf-balls sprang out, bouncing from floor to walls and thence to the Little-Master’s person: ball after ball rushed on its headlong course of glancing. Accidently placing his foot on one, it shot from under him & through his mirror. At that moment, Benjamin entered, attracted by the unusual noise, to behold the little master ankle deep in balls and dodging a regular whirlwind of the same.
