The Chronicles of Narnia Complete 7-Book Collection with Bonus Book

by C. S. Lewis

  ‘Hullo, Big!’ he exclaimed, ‘What ever are you doing?’

  CHAPTER VII

  * * * * * * *

  Polonius Green! Ah! Perhaps the reader has wondered concerning the manner of this bird’s life. With whom did he concert? who were his friends? where was his residence? He mixed gladly with anyone he could: he was despised by the greater part of society, as ‘novus homo’. Yet many of the best people attended his breakfasts & suppers. Who were they? – People like Puddiphat who could get on with anyone: distinct from this class was the admiring crowd who toadied to his wealth.

  On the morning after the royal ball, he was giving a select breakfast party at his town residence of Shelling House: the guests were Reginald Pig, Puddiphat, Bar, & Macgoullah. Pig came because he & Green were both shipowners and had common topics of interest in business matters. Puddiphat came because Green’s cellar was good. He never disguised the fact to his host, and the parrot himself was in too much awe of the viscount to resent it: the owl with almost brutal frankness censured or commended Green’s costume and conversation: in fine he took Green in hand and ruled him with a rod of iron, which the latter brooked with a meekness really remarkable in one usually so peppery. The other 2 of course came as old friends. Green was in great form.

  ‘Jolly glad you all came,’ he said. ‘Do you see they’ve chucked me from their Clique?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Pig, ‘but now-a-days no one is in the Clique.’

  ‘In fact,’ said the owl, ‘I should not wonder if in two or three months none of the best people would go into the Clique.’

  ‘Then,’ replied Polonius, ‘take it fer granted I’ll keep out.’

  Green,’ said the viscount severely, ‘you are not one of the best people, and do not affect to give up the idea of a Cliqueship!!’

  ‘Sorry ’phat: I only meant it was more trouble than it was worth.’

  ‘Anyway,’ said Macgoullah, ‘things are so changeable now that the Clique is not the same for a fortnight together.’

  ‘By the way,’ said Bar (who since his unsuccessful attempt to enter the Clique had lost all interest in politics), ‘I wonder how Big slept last night.’

  ‘What’s that wheeze?’ inquired Pig. It was just being related, when a servant entered and handed Pig a large letter. It was from the Frater Senior of the Tracity Chessary (the senior Chessary of the world) & ran thus: –

  ‘Ah,’ thought Pig. ‘Now we know why our parrot was so keen on the Chess seats in the Clique.’

  Aloud he said, ‘Gentlemen, read this.’

  The letter was passed round, and as each guest mastered its contents, he turned his eyes on the parrot, who sat in alarm, knowing well what the missive was. Like one man they rose & strode silently from the room. Puddiphat was last to go, & Green spoke to him.

  ‘Er, Puddles, old bird, what are they all going fer?’

  The owl turned round and gave Polonius one long steady look, then turned & went, shutting the door after him.

  Metaphorically too he shut the door.

  CHAPTER VIII

  * * * * * * *

  The two Vant brothers, were known by all Calcutta. The eldest, Oliver Vant, had been brought up in great ease by his parents and was an excellent stockbroker. His brother Reginald, the Pig, had gone to sea as a boy and finally had become Shipowner in partnership with Bradley. Their business relations had soon been supplement by a firm private friendship, and so the three lived together at Murry in Ferdis Hall, and at Calcutta in Mnason House.

  After leaving Shelling House, Reginald went to his office to find a note from Bradley saying that the latter had taken a half-day off: stepping into a handsome he gave the order to drive to Mnason House. In 15 minutes he drew up before the door and entered. In the study he found Bradley ensconced in an armchair before the fire.

  ‘Hullo Reggie, you look annoyed.’

  ‘Annoyed! A terrible thing has happened.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Green!!’

  ‘“Green has happened”? What do you mean?’

  ‘He has – but this letter will explain all,’ said Pig producing the missive from the Frater Senior of the Tracity. Bradley read it.

  ‘D – n the bird,’ he said slowly, ‘What do you purpose to do?’

  ‘I don’t know. Of course he has obviously been bribed with this privilege, but one cannot prove it.’

  RUPTURE BETWEEN VISC. PUDDIPHAT & MR. GREEN, AT SHELLING HOUSE

  ‘One can have a try. Our trade with the Tracities is quite a large fraction of our total.’

  ‘Yes. I gave everyone his letter to read, and they’ll all cut him after this.’

  ‘What a fool you are, Reggie! Who cares whether they cut him or not, when we’ve lost the Tracities?’

  ‘He does.’

  ‘Rot. And if he does, that doesn’t give us the Tracities.’

  ‘No-o. We ought to speak to someone in authority about it.’

  ‘Yes: it could do no harm, anyhow. The Little-Master might do.’

  ‘No, no. General Quicksteppe is a far more capable man!’

  ‘Yes, but he holds no office now.’

  ‘Well, he could get Big to carry out his plans.’

  ‘Perhaps, Reggie, but the frog is one who always thinks his own plans best.’

  ‘Well shall I speak to him in person?’

  The other was silent for a moment.

  ‘But what do you suppose any of them could do?’

  ‘I don’t know: but they might do some good & they could do no harm.’

  ‘Very well then, Reggie. When can you see the frog?’

  ‘I tell you what. Their Majesties told me last night that he and they were going to see “The 3 Looneys” at Oxenham’s. Let’s go to night & I can speak to him in his box.’

  ‘Very well. And, we’ll see the play at the same time.’

  ‘Yes. I’ll bring Olly.’

  At this moment the elder Vant arrived from his office. Oliver Vant had often been called a gloomy misanthrope but this was unjust. He was an excellent man in his own business, and in private life kindly though pompous.

  ‘Good evening Reginald,’ said Oliver, ‘you are early at home.’

  ‘Yes, Olly. Bradley & I are going to Oxenham’s to night, will you come?’

  It was the custom of the 3 to play whist every evening, and Oliver prefered it to a musical-comedy.

  ‘Reginald, we will play whist.’

  ‘Oh no Olly.’

  ‘Reginald!! However I will come.’

  So after an early dinner, they entered their car, and drove to the theatre.

  CHAPTER IX

  * * * * * * *

  On this Friday evening Oxenham’s theatre was crowded with spectators of every rank, anxious to see ‘The three Looneys’. This play was written round 3 characters, a hare, a negro, and a toad, all more or less obvious charactures of Benjamin, the Rajah and the Little-Master. It could never have been produced in any country where the king was not so good-humoured and careless as ‘the boys’: some fear was felt by Mr Putney (the manager) as to how the Little-Master would view it. In any case he was coming and one could but hope for the best; in the meantime he had an excellent house. There sat Quicksteppe in his box, prepared to thoroughly enjoy himself, as, indeed, he usually was. There in the opposite box was Goose, the eminent barrister, gazing round the house. There in another was our friend the viscount, as immaculate as ever, & sharing the box with him was Colonel Chutney. In the dress-circle sat the two Vants and Bradley: not far from them was Fortescue, head of the war-office. There in the stalls was Bar, and his fellow officers off his gunboat. In the pit sat Green, in that humble part because having lost his social standing, he saw no reason to throw away money by going elsewhere. Also in the pit we would have found honest Macgoullah, well fortified by a gladstone-bag of oranges. The orchestra presently appeared and began the overture, and shortly after its commencement the door of the royal box opened and the Little-Master, Hawki and Benjamin entered, gr
eeted by loud cheers from all parts of the house.

  ‘Ah,’ said Bunny sitting down, ‘thats a good house.’

  ‘Aye rather;’ said the frog, ‘if the play is proportionally good it’ll be all right.’

  By this time the overture had come to a noisy end, and the curtain rose upon the first act.

  The plot was roughly as follows: ‘Large’, the toad falls in love with an actress and on requiring admission to her house is refused it by the porter (‘Will’um’) unless he pays £500. After some discussion by the three, Large is left alone on the stage and attempts to climb up through the window & is repulsed. At the end of the act he gets the money by raffling the vacant office of censorship, which Will’um wins.

  When the curtain fell the Little-Master was furious.

  ‘Ah there’s a libel action in every line. I won’t stand it.’

  ‘Oh Big!!’ exclaimed Hawki, ‘its splendid. It characitures us just as much, but we don’t mind.’

  ‘No,’ echoed Bunny, ‘Its all right Big, you’re too easily offended.’

  ‘It may be very funny Benjamin but no playright should bring scorn and discredit on those who ought to be looked upon as the pillars of the state.’

  ‘But,’ rejoined the rabbit, ‘it doesn’t bring “scorn & discredit” on us. Anyway I’m going over to have a chat with Puddiphat: coming ’Jah?’

  The Rajah eagerly assented to this proposal and the two monarchs strolled across to the Viscount’s box.

  ‘Good evening Majesties’, cried the owl, ‘and how is our respected Little-Master receiving the play?’

  ‘Badly. He is rather annoyed.’

  ‘Really? Hullo,’ said Chutney glancing across at the royal box, ‘Old Reggie Vant is having a crack with him.’

  At this point the bustle in the orchestra seemed to betoken a second rise of the curtain and the kings returned to their own box to find Lord Big in a state of great consternation. So engrossed were they in his tale of what the pig had told him that they hardly observed the second act at all: this fortunately was not vital to the plot as it included merely Large’s adventures on the stage, which he takes up to be near his lover. The act ended in a burlesque three-cornered fight between the three looneys. Loud and vociferous applause shook Oxenham’s at the fall of the curtain on the second act and Miss Leroy as the actress, Peter Bhül as Large and Philias Dugge as Will’um were called before the curtain to the intense satisfaction of Alexander Putney.

  ‘Well,’ said the frog at the end of the act, ‘I don’t see whats to be done about that parrot. You put me in a nasty hole by lodging that objection, but now I’m glad you did. Vant, as you know, is furious about it & has appealed to me. Ah, really its hard to know what to do. The bribery is obvious but there is no proof.’

  ‘Call a Clique-meeting on the subject,’ sugested Hawki.

  Big was silent: he did not want to meet his Clique again. He did not yet feel sure how they would regard Green’s expulsion, for which he was considered directly responsible, and although it would have been very unjust to say that he was afraid of meeting his Clique he certainly regarded it as a disagreeable duty which might be put off indefinetly: in his heart of hearts he hoped that it would die a natural death before it met again, and a new one would take its place.

  In the pit Macgoullah, now full of joy and oranges, was praising the new play up to the skies, while Bar and his friends in the stalls pronounced it excellent. The curtain now rose on the third and last act, in which Large comes to the heroine’s door with his bribe for Will’um. The latter however, on becoming censor, has given over porterdom, & the new one knows nothing about the bargain. The heroine at last appears and each of the three Looneys propose to her in turn, in a series of beautiful duets, & all are refused. In the end she marries Will’um & the three go on as before. The finale to this third act was encored time after time, and even the lugubrious Oliver Vant admitted that he had enjoyed himself.

  But for the kings & the Little-Master the evening had not been very gay, for the latter was gloomy & upset by his disturbing news & the others were affected by his gloom. Green retired to Shelling House in good spirits, and as he ate his supper looked at the picture of himself on the opposite wall.

  ‘Ah,’ he thought, ‘they’ve cut me now, but I’m not done fer: of course it would have been pleasant in society, but this has its ’vantages. Now I can dress as I like, & not mind what Puddiphat says. Eh?’

  CHAPTER X

  * * * * * * *

  For a long period after they went to see ‘The Three Looneys’ their Majesties led an uneventful and blameless life, and Lord Big left politics strictly alone. The pile of letters on his desk recieved each morning a more cursory glance, and those that urgently needed a reply recieved as short a one as possible: indeed for nearly a month he was seldom seen outside Regency St Palace. But the nation was keen on politics at this time and voices were heard to say everywhere ‘that one insolent parrot should not upset Boxonian shipping’. For the loss of trade with the Tracities was a grave one, and not to be put up with.

  Big was as honestly annoyed about this as anyone, but he knew that he could do nothing by himself, and, as we have seen, yet dreaded a Clique-meeting. This state of affairs could not go on for ever, and he realised this suddenly when he heard a tubthumping orator in a back street one day crying ‘We’ll have a meeting not only of the Clique but also of the Parliament, despite this lazy frog.’ He went home in high dudgeon, but next night, while at dinner with Quicksteppe, an indiscreet guest said in his hearing that ‘the Clique wouldn’t stand this much longer’.

  Their Majesties, of course were only too glad to escape what was to them an indescribable bore: the news of the anger of the country against Green and against the Chess was for them a topic of conversation and not a vital question to be grappled with.

  On a Saturday morning some five weeks after their visit to Oxenham’s, the three had finished their breakfast and were sitting in the palace smoking room. A servant announced that the Clique members were in the ante-room & wished to see their Majesties and the Little-Master.

  So the blow had fallen!

  ‘Come on boys,’ said Big, bracing his nerves for the ordeal. They entered a large reception room and required the guests to enter. The Clique members entered and bowed to the kings. Big noticed with relief that Green was not there, – they had recognized the objection formaly so nothing more could be said about it, the matter was closed.

  Fortescue, who appeared to be their leader, stood forth an said, ‘Your Majesties, and Little-Master, I crave pardon for interrupting you at this unusual [hour], but the matter on which I come will brook no procrastination –’

  ‘Then hurry up with it!!’ broke in the Little-Master whose nervousness rendered him irritable.

  ‘– Yes, Little-Master, with your kind attention. There having now been no meeting of the Clique for over a month –’

  ‘None was required,’ said Big.

  ‘But Little-Ma –’

  ‘If the Little-Master says so, so it is,’ said Oliver Vant in the tone of a judge pronouncing death sentence.

  ‘Hold your tongue, Vant,’ said Fortescue hotly. ‘You came here to agitate for a meeting & now you fly in our faces.’

  ‘Come, come, Gentlemen!’ said Big, ‘No brawling in the Presence!!’

  ‘To continue,’ said Fortescue wearily, ‘we the members of the Clique demand at once a meeting –’

  ‘No we don’t,’ said Oliver Vant dolefully.

  ‘But I thought –’

  ‘Ah me! So did I. But the Little-Master’s silent influence has turned me. He, as I know does not wish a meeting, and the dumb eloquence of his personality has –’

  ‘Very well, very well,’ said Fortescue hastily, ‘Well Your Majesties we (excepting Mr Vant) desire at once a meeting of the Clique on the question of Mr Green’s (Big began to fidget) alliance with the Tracities against our shipping world. Rê this I may say –’

  ‘– Nothing at
present,’ said the Rajah to everyone’s surprise. ‘In the meeting to morrow you may say anything.’ The rajah had not done so much ruling on his own for years, and when he looked at Bunny to see if he agreed, that worthy rabbit was too surprised to make any sign.

  Encouraged by this, Hawki went on ‘Unless you have anything more to demand the audience is closed.’

  ‘Hawki,’ whispered Big in his ear, ‘will you leave these things to me?’

  ‘One thing more,’ said Fortescue, ‘The vacancy created in the Clique by the expulsion (Big looked uncomfortable) of Mr Polonius Green must be replaced. The members have unanimously agreed to Mr Alexander Putney, and we beg Your Majesties’ consent.’

  ‘What?’ cried Big, ‘The manager of a theatre which produces plays written against its sovereigns? Do you purpose to confer upon this immoral man of histrionic gains the honour of a Cliqueship?’