Freddy’s Cousin Weedly

by Walter R. Brooks

  In the meantime, the animals kept the Snedekers pretty busy around the farm. They called Aunt Effie’s attention to things that had to be done; and Aunt Effie sent Uncle Snedeker out to do them. Even Mrs. Webb thought of something to keep them busy. She persuaded a family of small moths to come in and fly around in Aunt Effie’s bedroom. Aunt Effie spent three days taking all the clothing and blankets outdoors and sweeping and beating and shaking them.

  Freddy had worked day and night on his play. By August 17th, ten days after the party, it was done, and the parts were given out to the different animals. Aunt Effie had told him that she would like very much to see it, but that she couldn’t promise to stay later than the 20th.

  “We’ll try to give it before that,” said Freddy, “but I wish we had a little more time. If we only had until the 25th—”

  Aunt Effie looked at him sharply. “You’re expecting the Beans on the 25th, aren’t you?” she asked.

  “Well, yes,” said Freddy, looking embarrassed.

  “You know very well we’re not going to wait for the Beans,” said Aunt Effie. “I dislike to mention it, because you animals have been very pleasant, but you must understand that I haven’t changed my mind about the teapot. I’m going to take it with me.”

  “Oh, no, you’re not,” Freddy said, but he said it to himself. Aloud he said: “Well, I’ll have to hurry our rehearsals along, then. And if you’ll stay, we’ll give it on the evening of the 20th.” So Aunt Effie said she would.

  If you had visited the Bean farm during the next three days, you wouldn’t have supposed that there was an animal on the place. But if you had walked around, through the barns, and past the pigpen, and up along the stone wall, you would every now and then have heard a mumbling sound. And if you had hunted to see where it came from, you would have found some animal securely tucked away in a quiet place, repeating his part under his breath. None of the parts were very long. The whole play was pretty short, for Freddy had very sensibly decided that a short play where everybody knows his part is much better than a long one, where the actors keep forgetting and having to start over again.

  It was a very distinguished audience that faced the curtain, made out of two old horse blankets, in the big barn the evening of August 20th. In the front row, on chairs brought from the house, sat the Snedekers, and besides them the sheriff, and Mr. Weezer, President of the Centerboro Bank, who was an old friend of Freddy’s. And behind and around them was a dense crowd of animals—cows and dogs and pigs and sheep and horses from neighboring farms, and wild animals from woods and fields,—raccoons and porcupines and rabbits and squirrels and woodchucks and even a few deer. Sniffy Wilson, the skunk, with his father and mother and three little sisters, was there, and every beam and rafter was crowded with birds. Even Old Whibley and his niece, Vera, were among those present.

  Promptly at eight o’clock, Freddy stepped out between the horse blankets. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “owing to the amount of work which it has taken to produce this play, it has been impossible to print programs. I will therefore announce that the scene of the play is the court of Queen Elizabeth. The time is somewhere between 1620 and 1940. The part of Queen Elizabeth will be taken by Mrs. Wiggins. The other actors will announce their own characters as they enter. Lights!”

  Immediately the electric light which hung over the heads of the audience went out, and two lights behind the curtain were switched on. Freddy disappeared, and Robert and Georgie came out and seizing the lower corners of the blankets in their teeth, pulled them down and dragged them to one side, disclosing Queen Elizabeth, seated on her throne, attended by two ladies-in-waiting, and surrounded by her courtiers.

  Mrs. Wiggins looked truly regal. Her throne was the back seat of the old phaeton which the animals had brought back with them from their famous trip to Florida. Around her neck was a wide paper ruff; she wore an ermine robe made out of an old sheet, and a small crown of gilt paper perched between her horns. Alice and Emma, the two ladies-in-waiting, sat on the front seat chatting gaily, but pausing occasionally to wipe away a tear. And around the phaeton crowded the other animals, dressed as courtiers in odds and ends of old clothing which Mr. and Mrs. Bean had discarded and which Freddy had saved to disguise himself with in his detective work.

  After a minute Little Weedly stepped forward. He had a gingham apron tied over his shoulders like a cloak and on his head was an old hat of Mrs. Bean’s with a long feather in it. He looked quite dashing.

  WEEDLY

  Sir Walter Raleigh is my name

  And I have come my bride to claim:

  The fair and beauteous Lady Alice,

  Who works here in your Majesty’s palace.

  THE QUEEN

  O have you, sir, indeed? And may

  I ask just how you get that way?

  If you were secretly engaged—

  WEEDLY

  We were, ma’am, please don’t be enraged.

  THE QUEEN

  Then you must take the consequences

  Of this most serious of offenses:

  A secret with the Queen unshared.

  I wonder, sir, that you have dared

  To come with such a bold request.

  —Unless perhaps you speak in jest?

  WEEDLY (firmly)

  The Lady Alice I shall wed.

  THE QUEEN (angrily)

  Guards, take him out! Chop off his head!

  “Guards, take him out!”

  Four rabbits wearing paper hats and carrying swords made out of laths marched in and surrounded Weedly. But Alice fluttered down from the front seat of the phaeton and threw herself at the Queen’s feet.

  ALICE

  O pause, Your Majesty, I pray

  Before you have him led away

  And do not judge him too severely

  Because, you see, I love him dearly.

  And if you must chop someone’s head,

  Don’t chop off his: chop mine instead.

  THE QUEEN

  I’m not particularly keen

  On chopping anybody’s bean.

  What makes me mad is never knowing,

  In my own palace, how things are going,

  Who’s coming in, who’s going out,

  What’s going on. I’m told about

  Nothing at all. I think it’s mean.

  Nobody ever tells the Queen.

  And then Mrs. Wiggins sang the following song:

  Nobody ever tells me;

  Nobody lets me know.

  Wars are fought and groceries bought

  And people come and go,

  But what is the use of being a Queen

  To sit in a marble hall

  If nobody tells you anything, anything,

  Anything at all?

  I want to know all the gossip

  That all the courtiers know,

  Who had a fight and stayed out all night

  And who has a brand new beau.

  But you sit on a throne and you’re all alone

  And if anyone comes to call

  They simply won’t tell you anything,

  anything, Any-thing at all.

  There was a good deal of applause, both from actors and audience, but the Queen held up her hoof and said:

  Thank you, my friends, you’re very kind,

  But it hasn’t made me change my mind.

  Well, then there was an argument between the Queen and Alice and Little Weedly, which I won’t repeat from the play because it was pretty long, and not really in Freddy’s best style. He had had to write the play pretty fast in order to get it produced before the 20th, and so he hadn’t done it very carefully, and some of it, as perhaps you have noticed, was pretty slangy. Hardly the kind of talk a queen would have used. But all the actors took their parts so well that the audience didn’t notice it.

  Well, by telling the Queen little bits of gossip that she hadn’t yet heard, they got her into a better humor, and she agreed not to chop off Sir Walter’s head just yet. Of cour
se Sir Walter was pleased at this and he thanked her so nicely that she said:

  Sir Walter, your politeness and your high

  flown elocution,

  Though not half so entertaining as a

  public execution,

  Do at least deserve some sort of a reward.

  What shall I grant you?

  SIR WALTER

  Your Majesty can let me marry Lady

  Alice, can’t you?

  The Queen began to look rather cross again, but Sir Walter said quickly:

  O Your Majesty, pray don’t be angry. I

  am just suggesting

  That the court would find a wedding

  just about as interesting

  As an execution.

  THE QUEEN

  Why, that’s true, Sir Walter.

  A beheading

  Isn’t half as entertaining as a really bang-

  up wedding.

  Very well then. It is settled. Get out the

  invitations.

  Let all the guests provide themselves

  with suitable donations.

  For the wedding shall take place tomorrow

  afternoon at three.

  I suppose I’ll have to give you something,

  too. Now let me see.

  Get out the royal jewels. We will make a

  quick selection.

  Something neat, I think, in rubies, to

  match the bride’s complexion.

  So Emma went to the harness closet in the corner and dragged out an old tin teapot full of bits of broken glass that the animals had collected. She brought it over and was just going to dump it out in front of the Queen when Jinx, as a G-man, in an old felt hat and carrying a cap pistol came in, pretending to push Hank in front of him. Hank was dressed as a pirate. He had borrowed Uncle Snedeker’s big hat and with Henrietta’s help had built it up with a lot of old ostrich feathers until it was nearly two feet high. Around his waist was a belt through which was thrust a cardboard cutlass.

  “Your Majesty,” said Jinx, “I picked up this guy out back of the palace. He was acting kind of suspicious so I brought him in.” Jinx had refused to speak his lines in verse because he said it was sissy. He and Freddy had had quite an argument about it, but as you probably know, when a cat makes up his mind you might as well let him do what he wants to, for he’ll do it anyway.

  So then the Queen asked Hank what he was doing out back of the palace.

  HANK

  Your Majesty, it’s a long long story,

  Full of shooting, and very gory.

  For since I was but a little lad

  I’ve been a pirate, bold and bad.

  I’ve sunk tall ships and taken their treasure

  And I’ve spent it all on fun and pleasure.

  And when I heard of the wealth untold

  That Your Majesty has in gems and gold

  I thought I’d find where you conceal it

  And then sneak in at night and steal it.

  My name is Captain William Kidd,

  But for what I’ve done and for what I’ve did

  I won’t repent nor ask for quarter

  Although I’ve done what I hadn’t orter.

  THE QUEEN

  Why goodness me, you’re a very bad man!

  CAPTAIN KIDD

  I am, your Majesty, I am.

  THE QUEEN

  And you’ve just made, too, a very bad rhyme.

  CAPTAIN KIDD

  Give me time, Your Majesty, give me time.

  As a man I’m bad, and you and I know it,

  But just the same I’m a pretty good poet,

  And so, before you have me led off

  To put me in jail, or chop my head off

  All in accord with your royal will,

  Give me a chance to prove my skill.

  THE QUEEN

  Very well, very well, we’ll give you a trial,

  But the first rhyme you miss, I warn you, I’ll

  Send you out to be executed.

  CAPTAIN KIDD

  Your Majesty’s judgment can’t be disputed.

  THE QUEEN

  Very well, then. Find me a rhyme for “dutiful.”

  CAPTAIN KIDD

  Your Majesty is extremely beautiful.

  THE QUEEN

  Very neat, Captain. How about “twenty”?

  CAPTAIN KIDD

  The Captain liked gold, and wherever he went he

  Always found plenty.

  THE QUEEN

  Thirty.

  CAPTAIN KIDD

  Dirty.

  THE QUEEN

  Forty.

  CAPTAIN KIDD

  Warty.

  THE QUEEN

  Fifty.

  CAPTAIN KIDD

  Shifty.

  THE QUEEN

  Well that’s pretty good. But how about “sixty”?

  CAPTAIN KIDD

  When she’s offered tea or coffee, the Queen always picks tea.

  THE QUEEN

  Let’s try a long word, like “circumlocutional.”

  CAPTAIN KIDD

  It’s unconstitutional.

  THE QUEEN

  Well, you’ve saved your head, I guess, this time,

  For you don’t make sense, but you do make rhyme,

  And that’s all that anyone asks of a poet.

  But tell me a word, in case you know it,

  That hasn’t any rhyme.

  CAPTAIN KIDD

  Well, let me see:

  Your stopping at sixty was a good thing for me.

  Can your Majesty find a rhyme for

  “seventy”?

  THE QUEEN

  Why of course. I—I—

  Well the Queen stammered and broke down and couldn’t go on, because of course she couldn’t find any rhyme. Somebody suggested “eleventy,” but she shook her head and said no, that wasn’t fair. And then she laughed, and said she guessed she’d have to appoint the Captain to the post of court poet. Only he’d have to promise not to steal the royal jewels.

  After that there was a lot of yelling outside and Charles came in as an Indian chief, at the head of a band of Indians who were mostly his daughters, with a few other birds who had wanted to take part in the play. They all had extra feathers stuck into their own feathers around their heads, and Charles had on a piece of old red flannel petticoat for a blanket, and they did a war dance for the Queen. Uncle Snedeker was rather nervous during this performance, even though he knew that of course these Indians were nothing but chickens. The dance was very exciting with lots of yelling in it, and when it was over Charles made a rather too long speech which nobody understood very well, and then the Queen invited them to stay for the wedding. And she was just going to select a present for Alice from among the royal jewels when Emma stepped up and announced to the Queen that it was time for her to take her royal nap.

  So the Queen had Emma take the jewels back to the harness closet, and then she took off her crown and put her head down against the back seat. Then all the courtiers lay down where they were, because of course at court everybody has to do what the Queen does. And the lights were turned out.

  Chapter 15

  Some of the animals thought the play was over, and started to go, but Freddy came out and asked them to remain seated. “And I hope you will please refrain from talking,” he said, “as this is a very important scene in the play.”

  There was some whispering on the stage, and several people seemed to be moving around, and then the lights were turned on. There was a hitch in starting the play going again because Mrs. Wiggins really had gone to sleep and it took some time to wake her up, and after that it was several minutes before she remembered where she was. Then when she did, she got to laughing, and everybody had to wait for that. But pretty soon she quieted down and put her crown on again, and sent Emma for the royal jewels. But the jewels and the royal teapot were gone. Somebody had stolen them.

  Well, the Queen was pretty upset. But although the teapot wasn
’t of much value, she seemed more worried about it than about the jewels, because she was accustomed to having tea out of it every afternoon. Her tea wouldn’t seem the same out of any other teapot, she said. Then Sherlock Holmes was sent for, and he came in—it was Freddy, of course, in false whiskers and a peaked cap—and while the G-man lined up Captain Kidd and the Indians against the wall and asked them questions, Sherlock Holmes went around examining things through a magnifying glass, and trying to detect something.

  Sherlock Holmes went round examining …

  Pretty soon the Queen decided that she wanted to get down from her throne and look in the closet herself to make sure that the things really weren’t there. She started to get out of the phaeton, and Sir Walter took off his cloak and threw it down on the floor so she could step on it. It was a very courtly act, but unfortunately as he took off the cloak something flew out of it and tinkled on the floor. It was one of the pieces of glass.

  “My diamond scepter!” exclaimed the Queen. “Guards, seize him!”

  This part of the play was mostly in prose, as Freddy hadn’t had time to turn it all into verse.

  So the rabbits came in, and in spite of Sir Walter’s protests, and Alice’s tears, they marched him away to have his head chopped off.

  The G-man was being a G-man for all he was worth, and hustling the Indians around and he grabbed the Indian chief and shook him.

  “Hey, take it easy, Jinx,” protested the chief. “All this rough stuff isn’t in the play.”

  But Jinx went right on playing his part. “Quiet, you!” he said and gave the chief an extra shake, and another of the royal jewels flew out of his blanket.

  “Guards!” shouted the Queen, and then the rabbits came in and led the chief away.

  “Hey, your Majesty,” said the G-man, “I think I’d better search all these guys.”

  So he did. He searched Captain Kidd, and didn’t find anything, but then he began searching the others, and on each one he found one of the jewels. And each time he found one, the guards came in and led away the culprit to have his head chopped off.

  “Why, this is terrible,” said the Queen. “It’s a conspiracy.”

  “It’s very queer,” said Sherlock Holmes. “They can’t all be guilty.”

  “They’ve all got stolen goods on ’em,” said the G-man.

  “How about you?” said Sherlock Holmes.

  “Why I—I didn’t take anything,” said the G-man.