Читать книгу Boxen: Childhood Chronicles Before Narnia - Клайв Льюис, Клайв Стейплз Льюис, Walter Hooper - Страница 18

Sequal to ‘Boxen’ & a short sketch entitled

‘Than-Kyu’

CHAPTER I

Three months had passed, on the day on which this history opens, since the famous old Clique of Boxen had been broken up to give place to another of younger and more energetic members: and as yet no meeting of this new Clique had been held. Lord Big The Frog, Little Master, detested the new Walterian cabinet and above all Polonius Green, – a member thereof.

On this particular day, Their Majesties were breakfasting with the Little Master at the Palace Calcutta. The frog appeared more than usually annoyed when they arrived late.

‘Upon my word, boys,’ he exclaimed, ‘I’m sick with hunger.’

‘We’re sorrey,’ said Benjamin, ‘but after all there’s no hurry.’

‘No hurry?’ asked Big. ‘Do you know to day is Friday?’

‘What about it?’ inquired the Rajah.

‘Hawki!’

‘Big?’

‘Dont you remember about the meeting?’

‘Oh, it’s that disgusting new Clique-meeting!’

‘Well let us have some breakfast in the mean time,’ suggested Bunny, who was beginning to feel hungry. Acting upon this advice, they all three sat down and adressed themselves with vigour to the eggsoak and curried prauns provided. A curious trio did they form.

LORD BIG INTERVIEWING GENERAL QUICKSTEPPE AT THE LATTER’S RESIDENCE OF SATING HOUSE

The Little Master was a stout frog of massive build, and on the wrong side of 60. His expression was that of a naturally masterful person, given power by exterior circumstances, but slightly pompous & inclined to worrey over small affairs: in appearance he was handsome, and was clad faultlessly in the fashion of 30 years ago. The Rajah was a young man of about 35, happy, careless, and humourous. The rabbit was like his fellow monarch but slightly stouter and not so agile.

After a long pause, the frog observed, ‘I could put up with anyone in the Clique except that parrot Polonius Green! An ungentlemanly bird, of moderate faculties, and a set of nasty jokes.’

‘I don’t like him much myself,’ said Bunny, ‘but he’s very funny at times.’

‘Ah, he’s very funny at times!!’ repeated Lord Big sarcastically. ‘If you would only do as I desire & sign a formal objection to the bird, it would be to the point.’

‘But my dear Big,’ protested the Rajah, ‘one can’t fly in the face of the country’s will.’

‘Your fathers,’ said Big, ‘were kings in the truer sense of the word. The late rajah was not afraid to suspend from the house itself a member he disliked. Benjamin’s father was known to do many such things.’

‘But in those days –’

‘Kings could be men,’ vociferated the Little Master with unusual vigour.

‘Well,’ said the Rajah, ‘do I understand that you really object to the fellow?’

‘Certainly!’

Big now rose and went out of the breakfast-room. The kings looked at each other: the rabbit spoke.

‘Well. Shall we –’

‘Lodge a formal objection?’

‘To Polonius Green.’

‘I think it would create a pleasant excitement.’

‘I tell you what: let us see Puddiphat about it.’

Suiting the action to the word, the pair rose and having cast a glance at their morning coats, they walked out into Regency St After going along this thourafare for some 300 yds. they stopped before ‘The Regency’ Inn. ‘We’ll find the Viscount inside,’ said the ’jah, and with that they entered.

CHAPTER II

Leaving the Palace, the Little-Master had stepped into a carriage and driven to the Calcutta house of Lord Quicksteppe, Field-Marshal and ex Clique member. His reasons for paying a visit at this early and consequently unusual hour were multiplex. Firstly he wanted his friend’s advice as to what he should do at the meeting of the new Clique. Secondly he wanted to know why on earth he (Quicksteppe) had gone off for a holyday in Clarendon at this crisis.

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.’

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!’

SIR. CHAS. ARABUDDA, THEODORE, MR REGINALD VANT, SIR GOOSE, H.M. THE RAJAH, GENERAL QUICKSTEPPE AND VISCOUNT PUDDIPHAT IN THE LOBBY OF THE HOUSE.

‘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.’

SOUTH DOLFIN-LAND AND THE TRACITIES.

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.’

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.’

RUINS OF THE FIRST UNITED BOXONIAN PARLIAMENT

HOUSE IN PISCIA.

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.’

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, because 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 politics, it does liven things up so, doesn’t it?’