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Scenes from Boxonian city life

I

Night was falling on the Bosphorus as the town guardsman sighted a small but tidy schooner tacking up to Fortressa. For’rad stood a young Tracity Chessary Pawn & at the tiller a sturdy thickset knight stolidly smoking his pipe. With a little deft maneouvering he brought her up a secluded rocky creek & dropt anchor about 200 yds. from the shingle. He called the assistance of the Pawn to lower his solitary boat, which soon was lying under the schooner’s counter, & several vigorous strokes sent him to the beach. Mooring the boat he stepped out & in the dusk descried two tall athletic figures walking along a short distance away.

‘Why! Your Majesties!’¹

They turned.

‘Macgoullah.’

‘At your service. What are you doing here?’

‘Oh,’ said the ’Jah, ‘Learning Turkish.’

‘Alone?’ inquired the knight.

‘No. Big’s here,’ answered Bunny.

‘At the inn?’

‘Yes.’

The three friends walked together to the postern gate, where the guard admitted them for a small fee. A few hundred yds. brought them to the inn. Through the door into the Inner room Macgoullah caught sight of a stout frog in evening dress.

‘I’ll stay in the Outer,’ he observed.

The boys walked into the Inner. It was a small room crowded to overflowing. Round the table sat Puddiphat, Goose, Quicksteppe, & the Little Master.¹

‘Boys where have you been?’ asked the Frog.

‘Oh nowhere special,’ returned the ’Jah with characteristic vagueness. Big gulped & continued bisecting a portion of cod. All present were Boxonians except one Prussian who sat in a far corner silent & morose, unoticed by all: true their was a cautious look in Quicksteppe’s grey eyes, but no one observed it. The company bent over their meal & conversation & quietly the Prussian slipt into a curtained cupboard. Big looked up.

‘Are we alone?’

‘Yes, my dear Little Master,’ said Goose.

‘Now Goose: tell your tale.’

‘Yes. Gentlemen I have just found that the whole Clique is threatened by Orring one of the members for “the aquarium” –’

‘Come, my good bird,’ cried Big, ‘what does that mean?’

‘For Piscia, my good Frog,’ – Big gulped – ‘has determined to throw all the present clique out of office: & is bribing right & left.’

‘It is impossible,’ cried the Frog, ‘the M.P.’s are incorruptable.’

Quicksteppe inquired ‘How, Goose, do you know this?’

‘Because friend Green –’¹

‘That parrot?’ gasped Big.

‘Yes Little Master. Because he overheard at the Murryman’s rest –’

‘That place?’ gasped the worried Frog.

‘Yes. He overheard Orring.’

Big rose. ‘Come boys. Its late,’ he said.

Quicksteppe, he, the boys, & Chutney went out. They passed through the Postern gate, & strolled along the shingle: Their house was in the outer town.

Presently Big removed his cigar and said, ‘Polonius Green overheard it? What would he wish to tell it to Goose for? He is no friend of mine.’

‘Its rather deep,’ said Quicksteppe.

‘Ah yes,’ said Bunny.

‘There’s some dirty work going on,’ asserted the Little Master.

A few more steps brought them to their house, & to bed. Long after the others had gone to sleep Quicksteppe lay thinking. What interest had that Parrot in the crisis? It might prove of the utmost importance. But how should he find out? Who, whom he could trust, moved in Green’s circles? He put the question to himself & next moment had the answer. Macgoullah!! Of course. The shrewd, honest master of the schooner Bosphorus was his man. True the Bosphorus was engaged in somewhat shady business but no one could deny that its captain was honest & patriotic. Of course he never thought for a moment that Green had told Goose through a disinterested motive. But having decided on a plan of campaign he turned over & slept.

II

‘The boys,’ the two sovereigns of Boxen, had come to Fortressa under the charge of the Little-Master to rub up their Turkish. But this onerous duty did not prevent some enjoyment. Turkey was ever dear to the boys: it was such a change. Turkey where all sorts of things like slavery, brigands, & bazaars still existed. On the morning after the night described above, the two kings rose early, dressed in flannels & taking towels stole out of the hired house, & down to the beach.

‘A ripping day ‘Jay,’ observed Benjamen.

‘Glorious. Hullo their’s a boat, new since last night,’ cried his companion eagerly, indicating a big untidy Turkish tramp.

‘Can you read her name?’ asked the Rabbit.

After a moment the Rajah spelt out ‘The Demetrie. I suppose she [is] a Hamman Liner.’

They now turned their attention to their matutinal bathe. This office performed they dressed & strolled back. Presently they encountered another. He was a short well-knit owl, gordiously attired in a morning-coat & white tall hat. He was smoking a huge cigar.

‘My dear Puddiphat.’

‘Good morning, Majesties.’

‘Up early for once, Puddles?’

‘As usual,’ retorted the Owl, & walked on with an elaboroute bow.

‘I’m very fond of him,’ remarked the Indian as soon as they were out of hearing.

‘So am I. Why does Big object to him?’

‘Oh he doesn’t really.’

‘Well I think its because of his owning those music-halls.’

‘The Alhambras!’

‘Yes. Of course Big doesn’t like that.’

They strolled into the house & found the others preparing to go to the inn for breakfast.

‘Boys,’ said the Frog indicating the kings’ flannels, ‘you’re not going in those things?’

‘Yes,’ said Bunny in a hurt voice.

Big sighed: & they started for the inn. All except Quicksteppe who said he was unwell. As soon as they were gone he hastened into a hat, & started down the beach, at a really remarkable rate for so old a gentleman. The Bosphorus was sailing this morning with Macgoullah on board! And he must get Macgoullah!

Alas, his toilet had taken too long. When he reached the jetty the Bosphorus was a good mile out! A lean swift rowboat for hire, manned by three Chessmen came along side. The leader spoke: –

‘Does your Excellency wish a boat?’

Quicksteppe clutched at the straw.

‘Yes,’ he cried jumping in, ‘5 sovereigns if you catch up that schooner!’

‘Yes Excellency.’

In an incredibly short space of time the lean craft was shooting through the water with the general in the stern sheets. But it soon became painfully obvious that the persuers were loosing ground. A fine fresh breeze had caught the vessels sails & under her sturdy master’s fine manipulation was fast dissapearing over the sky line.

III

Any sailor who has been to Murry knows the Murryman’s rest. This servicable inn stands on the Royal Wharf & is a spacious building whose architecture presents a hetrogenious appearance as fresh wings have been built on from time to time through the 2 last centuries. On a certain morning about three days after Quicksteppes abortive attempt to catch the Bosphorus, Polonius Green sat in its cosy Inner.¹ He was seated on a high-backed oaken bench, beside a Foreigner. The latter was a clean shaven man with flowing red hair.

‘Well,’ the captain was saying, ‘what is the do?’

‘The “do” is,’ said the other coldly, ‘that you have made a fool of yourself.’

The bird bristled.

‘What do you mean, Sir?’

‘Just this. You have told Goose that our leader was bribing.’

‘Yes. But –’

‘Well? –’

‘Our Leader declared that he would not give me a place in the new Clique. So I naturally –’

‘Yes. Because you can set no bounds to your insatiable ambition you overthrow the whole party?’

‘I do!’ said the angry bird.

‘Animal-lander! Sparrow!’

‘Prussian!’

‘How was it you fell out with our leader?’

‘Mind your own business.’ With that, the bird, with ruffled feathers, paid his bill & went out. The Prussian gazed after him with angry eyes, & sank back on his bench.

‘D––n the bird!!’ he muttered. At that moment the doors of the Inner were thrown open & another customer entered. He was a short, fairly stout bear. His fur was of a rich hock-brown color, & well oiled on the top of his round head. His expression was humurous, self satisfied, & intelligent. A cigarette was grasped between his tightly pursed lips. He was clad in a steward’s uniform and his cap bore the legend, ‘H.M.S. THRUSH’. The Prussian looked up.

‘’morning Mr Bar.’

‘Delighted to see you my dear Glohenman.’

‘Where have you sprung from?’

‘Oh the Thrush is at the Lord Wharf.’

‘Never! And captain Murry on board?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘And Hogge, the mate?’

‘Ist officer,’ corrected R.N. [Bar, of the Royal Navy], ‘but how is business?’

The foreigner looked round. They were alone.

‘Clique business?’

‘Yes.’

Then the two drew close together & for a long time sat in close confabulation. The Bear seemed to give instructions, & the other now & then made notes in a large pocket book. Occasionally he offered suggestions: suddenly, after about a quarter of an hour, to one of these suggestions the steward rose, & said loudly ‘No we will never do that. And don’t get beyond yourself either, my friend.’ Then he went out banging the door.

Left alone the Prussian took another glass & reflected that these cursed Boxonians were all fools.

IV

The manager’s room of the offices of Pig & Bradley Shipowner & Carriers Ltd in D Street Murry, betrayed by its appurtenances the tastes & character of its owner. One wall was almost entirely filled up by three huge windows which brilliantly illumined the apartment. The floor was covered by a well worn oilcloth of the conventional light brown. To the right & left stood huge glass-fronted bookcases filled with all volumes necessary to a shipowner, arranged according to authors. On the fuorth wall hung a large map. In the middle of the room was a large double table for the partners. Only Mr Reginald Vant (the Pig) was at this time present. He was a pig of some 40 summers, shrewd, hard working & unaffected. His face at present betrayed no emotion but interest in the papers before him. He was clad in one of those respectibally plain stuff suits so dear to the businessman. Suddenly he was enterrupted by a clerk who said that Mr Green wished to see him, if he was not busy.

‘Admit him,’ said the Pig, pushing aside his work.

A minute later the parrot entered, looking annoyed for he had come straight from the Murryman’s Rest. The Shipowner bade Green sit & gave him a pipe of Montserrat¹ which the latter sucked while they talked.

‘My dear Mr Green, what can I do for you?’

‘Only give me a little information Sir.’

‘At your disposal. Biscuits? –’

‘Please. How’s trade?’

‘Just as usual. But what is the information you want?’

‘This. I hear that a certain Mr Glohenman is applying for one of your captaincy’s.’

‘That’s so.’

‘Is he Mr Philip Glohenman, or the brother?’

‘The brother, Mr Green.’

‘Ah. They are much devoted to each other.’

‘So I blieve.’

Pig paused. Then said, ‘Do you know the two Glohenmans?’

‘Exceedingly well, Mr Pig.’

‘Well you as a seaman can advise me. Is this man a good captain?

‘Really Sir, I cannot stop to give you a character now, but I will come to morrow.’

‘Very well.’

The two shipowners shook hands & the bird went out. ‘What,’ thought Pig, ‘was his game?’

V

Mr Green was highly satisfied with his morning’s work. He now was even with Glohenman. He knew perfectly well that Capt. G. was a Prussian agent & that it was all important that he should get a place in the Pig Line. Prussia wanted an insight into Boxonian commerce & were depending on this man to give it them. He knew also that Captain Glohenman’s chance of getting the position depended on the character which he – Polonius – gave him before Pig. He had now only to confront the captain’s devoted & patriotic brother with these facts, & he had him at his beck & call. Philip Glohenman would have his brother in the Pig line at all costs. And now that he had this devoted Philip, how should he use his power? The answer was ‘to get myself into the Clique’. Orring, the leader of his party, had refused to get him a place. But Philip had unbounded influence over Orring, so the worthy bird was full of confidence.

On the same morning, at 6 o’clock the steamer Ariadne (C.I.Ry) had arrived from Bombay having on board Lord Big, their Majesties, Visc. Puddiphat & General Quicksteppe. Although she arrived at Player’s Wharf so early, their Majesties and the viscount were up an hour before she was in. The Owl was as immaculate as ever, in a brown lounge suit & a Homburg hat of the same color. The two kings were in grey tweed & high spirits, busily engaged in explaining everything to each other – a superfluous occupation as there was nothing which one knew & the other did not. The viscount gave their Majesties to understand that he was interested in all they told him. The Little Master presently joined the party.

‘Boys, have you not got coats on?’

‘No,’ replied the ’jah.

‘Are’nt you cold?’

‘No,’ replied the rabbit.

Arrived at Player’s Wharf, the viscount took his leave of the royal party & jumping into a hackney cab ordered it to drive to the Goose¹ for breakfast. Puddiphat’s thoughts were of the sweetest as he lent back on the richly upholstered seat & watched the panorama of Murry streets flitting past. Turkey bored the Owl: he loved Boxen & Murry above all the cities of Boxen. His numerous Alhambras¹ were paying excellently. This pleasing reverie was broken in upon by the vehicle drawing up outside the Goose Inn. The young Owl grasped his cane & stepped out, & entering the Inner Coffee Room sat down. He had hardly begun his breakfast when a female music-hall ‘star’ walked up to speak to him. She was chiefly remarkable for an impossible hat & an irritating laugh. Towards Puddiphat she adopted the condescending air which actresses always do towards managers. The subject which they discussed was apparently of some interest, & after some confabulation the Owl got up & going out said,

‘Yes, a splendid idea.’

The result was that a couple of days later The boys, Pig, Colonel Chutney, Fortescue, Mr Hedges² (The Beetle), also Walking Waggon – Boxen’s best comedian, Rosie Leroy the inimitable comedienne, & Phyllis Legrange comedienne & dancer (the promoter of the scheme), each recieved the following message: –

VI

A day after The Owl sent out his invitations, a neat little schooner came along side the Royal Wharf: she was none other than our old friend the Bosphorus under command of sturdy Macgoullah. And very glad he was too to be once more walking up to the Murryman’s Rest. When he had got comfortably settled in the homely Inner with a pipe & a bottle of Vin-de-Brus (for he was rich though plain) he was disgusted by an interruption. The door was flung open & a tall, liveried valet entered.

‘Sir,’ he said, ‘do I address Captain Macgoullah?’

‘Yes.’

‘My master, General Quicksteppe, desires your presence please, if you can come Sir?’

The honest chessman, who had looked forward to a morning at his favorite Inn, was somewhat annoyed, however he felt it incumbent upon him to follow the valet to a motor waiting on the Royal Wharf. Shortly after he had gone Green & Herr Glohenman stalked into the Inner & sat down.

‘Glohenman, I brought you here for an important purpose.’

‘What?’

‘I must have a place in the new Clique.’

‘Well? I can’t help you –’

‘You must.’

‘How so?’

‘Listen! Your brother is trying to get a place in the Pig line.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Never mind. I do know. Now Pig has asked me for his character. Pig trusts me.’

‘But, you –’

‘You have influence with Orring. It is a case of either-or.’

Meanwhile Macgoullah had been shown into a salon in the General’s townhouse, where he stood feeling very uncomfortable & awaiting the owner. Presently a door was opened & the old man entered.

‘Good morning, my dear captain.’

‘Good morning, m’lord. What can I do for you?’

‘Well captain, of course what I am going to say won’t go beyond you?’

‘No, m’lord,’ replied Macgoullah, begginning to feel uncomfortable.

‘Have you heard anything about this movement against the Clique?’

‘Er – yes m’lord.’

‘Well, you are a Walterian?’¹

‘I think so M’Lord.’

‘Well you know Captain Green?’

‘Yes m’Lord.’

‘Well could you assist me in watching him?’

‘I could not, m’lord,’ cried Macgoullah who was thoroughly sick of the business. ‘You’ll have to get up very early to get the better of Green.’

‘Then, you won’t help me?’

‘I’m afraid I can’t,’ replied the sailor, honestly disstressed at the other’s dissapointment.

VII

On the evening of the eventful Saturday, their Majesties were turning Riverside Palace upside down in their preparations for The Owl’s select supper party. They forgot it till they had only quarter of an hour to dress: however after almost superhuman efforts they got into their car in time. After a short drive they stopped outsides Puddiphat’s magnificent townhouse. Stepping out, they were shown into a cloak room crowded with guests, talking in subdued tones & brushing hair & trowsers. For some time they stood politely pushing each other to the door. At last Pig made a bold sally & walked with a large following to the reception-room.

‘My dear Puddiphat!’

‘Delighted Mr Vant. Evening Waggon: you know Reggie the cod – no? Mr Vant – Mr Waggon.’

The bird was resplendent in his evening dress & piqué shirt. He moved off.

‘Why your Majesties. I am much honored.’

Presently Phyllis Legrange walked up.

‘Good evening Miss Legrange. You have never met their Majesties? His Majesty King Benjamen – Miss Legrange etc. Take the rest said.’

‘Good evening,’ said Bunny nervously, ‘Er – have you been to Sangaletto?’¹

‘No,’ replied Miss Legrange, ‘I never go to operas.’

‘I hate them,’ said the rabbit, feeling it was what he should say.

‘Oh Your Majesty! That’s very bad taste.’

Then they both laughed politely.

Meanwhile the host was busy elsewhere. ‘My dear Beetle!’ he said to Hedges, ‘How are the railways? Hullo Chutney. Good evening Miss Leroy. Colonel Chutney – Miss Leroy. Miss Leroy – Colonel Chutney. Why there’s Fortescue. How’s trade? Have you heard Sangaletto? No? – Oh you should.’

‘Who’s singing Sangaletto himself?’ inquired the ’jah who had come up.

‘Vön Oscar Wûlles. He’s awfully good your Majesty. I suppose you’re going?’

‘’Fraid so,’ said the monarch.

‘Why,’ broke out the Owl, ‘Don’t you know Miss Leroy?’

‘Oh yes,’ said the Rajah, ‘I had the pleasure of being introduced at Chutney’s ball last season.’

‘Friends,’ announced the host, ‘Supper is ready.’

‘May I have the pleasure?’ said the ’jah to Rosée Leroy, while Bunny applied the same question to the amiable Phyllis. The whole party adjourney to the supper room where the table groaned under cold ham & chicken, salads, oysters, wines & other delecacies. Everyone got freer & more interesting. Walking Waggon told his best stories, Puddiphat made doubtful jokes & the rest talked, listened & laughed. The ’jah related stories about the Little Master, who was heartily laughed at & afterwards toasted. Then followed toast upon toast, their Majesties of course leading the list. Then as the last stroke of 12 ceased to vibrate, the Owl said, ‘Let us take the air.’

With that they issued forth, hatless & bootless to roam the city.

VIII

On the night of the eventful Saturday the Little Master had been to a select political debate at Sir Goose’s chambers & was returning in his brougham at 2 in the morning. Leaning back upon the luxurious cushions he had almost fallen asleep when the strains of a music hall song sung by many voices startled him,

‘Oh Mister Puddiphat

Where did you get that ha-at?’

Such a staid & sober individual as the Frog was annoyed at the idea of any party going out after supper in this manner. Without reflecting who the bounders were he dozed off again. Suddenly –

‘Now down D. street we will go

That’s the place for us you know

Whoop!!’

just besides the coach, which had abruptly stopped. Next instant, to his untold horror, the door was flung open & a crowd of people stood outside.

‘Morning, Sir’ cried one merrily. It was the Owl!

‘Puddiphat!’ cried Big in horror. ‘And (he gasped) your – your – majesties!’ It was only too true. There, before the little-master’s gaping eyes stood the sovereigns of Boxen, bare-headed, & worse, singing a music-hall song at 2 in the morning, & worse & worse each with a music hall actress!! Behind them surged Pig, Beetle & the others.

‘Your Majesties,’ said he icily, ‘come in & come with me to the palace!’

‘Not at all Big’ protested the ’jah. ‘You come out.’

‘Your Majesties! By a little-master’s authority I request you to come. Upon my word if you don’t I’ll resign!’

‘But what’s the matter?’ asked Bunny.

Soon however the kings sulkily got in, the doors were shut, & the carriage swept on. As soon as they were settled Big said, ‘Boys. This is awful.’ ‘But my dear Big –’

‘Benjamin!!’ this sternly. The rabbit collapsed onto the seat.

Then Big muttered in a dull fatalistic way he had when annoyed, ‘You ought to be deposed.’

‘Wish we could,’ laughed the ’jah.

Seeing that he could make no impression on them the Frog was silent while the carriage rapidly drove to Riverside where at last all three thoroughly annoyed staggered to bed.

IX

His Majesties gunboat Thrush to which Mr Bar belonged in the capacity of Purser & Master of the commisariat was a tidy vessel of some 500 odd tons. Five of her crew birthed aft, namely Murray, the skipper, Hogge the 1st officer, Williamson, the gunnery officer, Macfail, the 1st engineer, & last but not least Bar the purser. Just at present she was a day out from Murry on her voyage to Floe, & it was the captain’s watch. Suddenly the look-out reported the Pig-liner Dolfinian on the port bow. Quarter of an hour later the two boats were within haling distance of one another, & Captain Murray ordered the other to stop. In a short time the gig was lowered & the inspection was made. Among other casual facts which the captain happenned to notice was that the 1st mate was a Prussian. Bar only among the Thrush’s crew realised that it was Glohenman’s brother & how he had got there.

A day later after the Dolfinian had got in Green & Philip Glohenman sat in the Inner of the Murryman’s rest.

‘Well my friend,’ said the parrot, ‘Your brother, as you see, is safely in the Pig line.’

‘Yes, my dear bird. I can never express my gratitude.’

Polonius looked sharply up.

‘Eh! What about my cliqueship?’

‘Mr Green?’

‘I thought we had a bargain.’

‘No, no, Mr Green.’

The parrot was furious.

‘You promised me a cliqueship,’ he repeated doggedly.

‘My good bird, this parrotlike repetition is most annoying.’

Leaving the speechless bird, the Prussian rose & strode out. The unfortunate Green was unable to compell him to carry out their compact. He of course could not bring it before a court or he would be putting his own head in the noose for blackmail. Suddenly he remembered that he had arranged to go with Macgoullah that evening to Sengeletto.

X

On the Friday after the ever memorable Saturday the Murry Opera House was crowded with people attracted to Sengelleto by the vocal powers of Wullês, Mlle. Armanche, & the rest of the fine company. There in the dress circle are Pig & Bradley, in the stalls Hedges & others of his type. There too was Goose in his box, Puddiphat with Phyllis Legrange, both looking immensely bored. There were Quicksteppe & Chutney who share a box. All eyes were directed upon the royal box, which as yet was empty. In the pit sat Green & Macgoullah, the later fortified with a gladstone bag of oranges. Presently the door of the Royal box opened & in walked the two kings followed by the Little Master walked in.

‘A good house Big,’ said the ’jah.

‘Boys!’ said the Frog suddenly.

‘Yes.’

‘Look at that Owl,’ said Big, despairingly indicating the opposite box which contained Puddiphat, & ‘who’s that woman?’

Meanwhile in the owl’s box another animated conversation was going on.

‘I say Puddles,’ said Phyllis, ‘Who’s that toad in the Royal Box?’

‘It’s a good job he didn’t hear you call him a toad. He’s the Little Master.’

During the dialogue the orchestra had begun to attack the overture with great vigour & spirit, but she continued in a loud tone.

‘Listen to that Puddles. Do you call that music?’

‘It is usually thought so.’

‘Hush’ came from various parts of the house, especially the pit. Phyllis leaned out of the box & blissfully unconscious that she was referred to said, ‘What on earth are the people in the pit making that noise for?’

‘I believe they’re annoyed at our talking,’ rejoined Puddiphat in a hurt tone. ‘Hullo, we’re getting to business.’ And indeed the curtain was rising on the first scene of the great opera. Big settled down to sleep, Puddiphat retired to the bar, & Macgoullah set in on his oranges. Goose annoyed everyone near him by humming out of tune: the boys settled down to a conversation which lasted till the drop scene fell on the impassioned strains of Marita’s great aria. The boys strolled out & across to Puddiphat’s box.

‘Good evening, Majesties.’

‘Puddiphat. Good evening Miss Legrange,’ said the rabbit.

‘What do you think of it Puddles?’ inquired the rajah.

‘Oh very good, excellent,’ said the Owl, ‘What I heard of it.’

‘Yes,’ said Phyllis, ‘he’s been out all the time.’

‘And what,’ said the ’jah turning to her, ‘did you think?’

‘To be frank, your Majesties, I thought it great rubbish.’

Just at this point the prelude to the 2nd act began & the boys returned to their own box. The second act was famous only for a chorus of prisoners which caused Puddiphat & his fair companion to yawn more than before. As the curtain fell, the manager sent an attendant to tell Goose that he must stop humming or else go out. Meanwhile the pit was talking also.

‘Well?’ said Polonius.

‘Ah it’s cod,’ said Macgoullah.

‘Cod!?’ cried the musical Green aghast, ‘I’d like to see you write it!’

‘I wouldn’t!’ said Macgoullah, ‘Try another orange?’

The curtain now rose upon the 3rd act. Meanwhile in the bar a different conversation was going on. It was occupied by two Prussians, Philip Glohenman & another.

‘The bird actually blackmailed me. And now he wants me to get him a cliqueship.’

‘Well,’ said the stranger, ‘get him one. Our object is to place the new Clique under an obligation to us.’

‘But my dear Dangle, do you think that I would trust to their mere gratitude?’

‘I suppose not, but you must conciliate him. In Turkey at Fortressa I overheard a conversation in an inn & it seems he’s been telling things to Goose.’

‘I might make a bargain –’

‘Yes.’

The dropscene fell some hours later on the 8th & last act of the opera & as the audience walked out no one thought less of the piece than Philip Glohenman. But he thought.

XI

H.M.S. Thrush had a great liking for the port of Marston on the Great Lake. Thither she wended her way immediately on her return from Floe. And so one evening Bar might have been seen talking to the manager of The Lake Inn.

‘Yes, Mr Bar?’

‘Can you tell me is there a Mr Orring staying here?’

‘Yes Mr Bar. Do you wish to see him?’

‘Yes.’

Bar followed the manager to a private sitting room. Here he found Mr Orring, an elderly lizard. The manager left them.

‘My dear Bar.’

‘’Evening. I come on business.’

‘You come on business?’

‘Yes. About your new Clique.’ He spoke curtly.

‘Ah!’

‘It appears you’ve quarrelled with Green.’

–“THE LITTLE BEAR WAS FURIOUS”–

‘Yes: he’s a most provoking bird.’

‘Well, you’ve got left!’

‘How!?’

‘Green and your Prussian friends & the others have undertaken to oppose tooth and nail any bill you bring in. Also they’re going to draw up a new bill leaving you out! A very good thing too. But d – n it all they’ve forgotten me as well!!’

The little bear was furious. He ruffled his well oiled fur, he flung things about the room. The lizard was despairingly calm. Presently he said, ‘Its all up Mr Bar. Its a hopeless job. My work has been useless.’

‘I told you that these Prussians would be the ruin of it!!’

‘Well this is no time for regrets. I will this evening start for Piscia, & live privately. I shall be practically ruined. I promised all in the League Cliqueships. I promised £400 compensation each if the plan failed.’

Bar was so genuinely distressed at the other’s fix that he forgot his own dissapointment.

‘Oh no Mr Orring. I for one would never touch a penny of it, & I am sure none of the others would. It was only ill luck. On the contrary we will all respect you for your effort & sympathise with your misfortune!’

‘It was not luck. It was my foolishness in quarelling with that bird. Of course I shall pay. It was my fault. Good evening.’

Bar went out more annoyed than he could say. But he saw the other would be better alone to think out a plan.

XII

The unhappy lizard’s position was indeed most unenviable. He was not originally rich when he had brought in the motion for the new clique, but he was a somewhat unscrupulous reptile and spent money like water in bribing here & there: doubtless he hoped to refind it when he became the new Little Master. Let it also be said for him that he thought the means justified his end. Then half way through, the foreigners threatened to back out & inform if they were [not] silenced with another fabulous bribe. And so when the blow fell Orring had had just enough to keep things going till the motion was carried. Now to 5 people he owed £400 (the 5 who had been promised Cliqueships) & to the other members of the League, of whom there were about 10 he owed 300 each. The Prussians now demanded a silence fee of £700 each, which he must pay or go to jail for bribery. The debts were –

5 Cliqueships …………….. £2000.

League ……………………. £3000.

3 Prussians ………………. £2100.

Total …………………… £7100.

That night he sat up late in his room, thinking, when suddenly a knock at the door broke in upon his reverie.

‘Come in.’

‘Mr Orring?’

‘Yes Sir.’

‘This letter for you.’

‘Thanks.’

The man went. And on opening the letter the lizard’s joy knew no bounds. It was a document to state that ‘Arnold Olderwell, gentleman, deceased, does give & bequeath to his cousen James Orring £100,000.’

XIII

The city of Murry read by a notice in every inn that on Monday, Parliament would assemble. Among the first to read the notice was General Quicksteppe as he sat down to breakfast in the Inner of the Goose. So the blow had fallen! Although the official notice did not state the business which was to be discussed, the old strategian knew. These beggars had brought in their new Clique bill. The present Clique of which he was a member had been in office for over two years & it was only natural that it should fall to peices sooner or later. His attempt to make an ally of Macgoullah had failed: the captain was too busy in his own work to take up politics. Presently Colonel Chutney sat down at the same table.

‘Good morning, General.’

‘Why, that’s you Chutney. Were you at the opera?’

‘Yes. Do you see about the session?’

‘Yes. I suppose that means a new Clique.’

‘Yes. We won’t be in it if there is?’

‘No. Hullo here’s Puddiphat. My good owl –’

‘’Morning. Do you see the notice –?’

‘Yes. A new Clique –’

‘No,’ said the viscount. ‘Because, look here. Orring the leader of the movement has gone home to Piscia & settled down.’

‘Rubbish!’

‘It is true.’

‘Then there isn’t going to be a new Clique?’

‘Oh no. We are quite safe.’

Meanwhile in the Inner of the Murryman’s rest the situation was also being discussed by Green and Glohenman.

‘Do you hear,’ cried the parrot, ‘that that lizard has given it up!’

‘Well, we weren’t going to have him in it any way.’

‘No, but I wonder who told him?’

XIII

On Monday very few members failed to attend the debate. The Murry House, a spacious building situated on Watermans Road, was crowded to its full. There on an obscure back bench sat Mr Green, interested & excited: there is Mr Bar with Captain Murray winking at their friends in the gallery. There also in the gallery sit the two Glohenmans: there on the front bench is Macgoullah in a new blue serge suit & a clean wooden pipe, looking very bored. The Clique (whose days even now are numbered), consisting of Quicksteppe, Colonel Chutney, Goose, Puddiphat, & Pig, & presided over by their Majesties & the Little Master are absent in the Clique-room. But all eyes are fixed on the door by which they come in. Presently it opened & the Clique, loudly cheered, filed in, M’Lord Little Master & the Kings seating themselves on the raised triple throne. Big rose & walked to the rostrum: ‘Your Majesties, & gentlemen of the house: we are met here to day to discuss Mr Orring’s new Clique Bill. This honourable member however has not turned u – is not present. Consequently, unless any of his party wish to bring in a new Clique Bill we will –’

‘I do M’Lord,’ this from the parrot.

‘Very well. Will you please speak on it?’

‘I should imagine so,’ said Green brusquely.

Big tiptoed back to the throne & whispered to the Rajah ‘That parrot!’

The latter meanwhile began to speak: – ‘Your Majesties, Little-Master & gentlemen of the house: in bringing in this bill, I’m not going to have any pother like some learned friends’ – (Big outraged) – ‘I’ll be plain: It strikes me, that this Clique has had its fair share.’ (laughter: ‘Order!’ from the usher) ‘India is not equally represented with Animalland.’ (At this juncture Puddiphat & Pig got out & went to be bar.) ‘I propose fer the new Clique –’ (Big whispered ‘Ah he’s a vulgar bird.’) ‘– the same Little Master, Mr Oliver Vant, Colonel Fortescue, Sir Bradshaw, a – and – ahem – yer’s trooly.’ (Big was wild.)

Mr Pig rose, & went [to] the rostrum: – ‘Your Majesties, Little Master, & gentleman of the –’

‘Take tha-at fer said,’ broke in Mr Green.

‘Turn the bird out!!!’ cried the infuriated Little-Master, glad of an opportunity for venting his wrath on the unfortunate parrot.

‘– house,’ continued Pig calmly. ‘I rise to oppose the motion –’ (Cheers. ‘Silence!’) ‘– on the ground that Mr O. Vant & Mr P. Green are unfit to hold office.’ (Big – ‘Short & poor, boys!’)

The Little-Master sent the house into the lobbies & the ballot was passed round. Amid tense excitement they returned & read out ‘The motion passes by a majority of 70 votes to 29 votes.’ Then in a whisper, ‘Now Hawki.’

The sovereign rose & said – ‘I do declare the new Clique lawfully to be a Clique in accordance with the laws & customs of the Boxonian government.’

No sooner had he ceased to speak than a storm of cheering & shouts of ‘Long live their Majesties’ & ‘Long live the new Clique.’ Macgoullah alone in the house shouted ‘Long live the dismissed Clique!’

As the M.P.’s trooped out Quicksteppe said to Goose ‘I’m not sorrey, after all.’

THE END

–“I‘M NOT SORREY”–