Boycotted Part 31

"Oh," faltered I, for I was fairly overcome, both by my own misfortunes and his magnificent appearance, "nothing; only a--a little business run, you know, for the manager."

"I didn't know we had any customers in these parts."

"Well no. But, I say, what are _you_ doing here?"

"Business too," said he--"grave business. By the way, Samuels, have you got any better clothes than these?"

Here was a question. And from Michael McCrane!

"Because," he went on--and here he became embarra.s.sed himself--"if you had--in fact, you'd do as you are, because you won't have to wear your hat. What I mean is, that now you _are_ here--I'd be awfully obliged if you'd be my best man--I'm to be married this morning. I say, there's the bell beginning to ring. Come on, Samuels."

CHAPTER TEN.

NEW LIGHT ON AN OLD FABLE.

Part I.

A DISCOVERY.

What cannot one discover on an old bookstall? Who would have supposed I should have had the luck to pick up the extraordinary collection of newspaper-cuttings which are here presented to the reader?

The extracts speak for themselves. They present in a moderately connected form the story of a famous epoch in English history, and shed a flood of light on transactions which have long since pa.s.sed into the region of myth.

Although the dates of months and days are given, the actual year to which the extracts refer is unfortunately left in obscurity. But from internal evidence, and certain references to current events, it is supposed that the date cannot have been later than the reign of King Arthur--or at any rate before the Saxon period.

I may say that in reading over the present account and the mythological story of Jack the Giant Killer, I am struck by several discrepancies in the commonly received tradition, and in the account of the manners and customs of the times here revealed. I make no attempt to reconcile the two versions, though I am decidedly of opinion that of the two the present may be accepted by the reader as the more authentic.

At any rate it is an editor's duty to give his story as he receives it, and to leave his readers to form their own conclusions.

The following, then, is an exact transcript of the newspaper extracts to which we have referred:

From the _Stilly Gazette_, June 30th.

Despatches from the mainland report that the season is now in full swing. The charming seaside resorts on this attractive coast are crowded with visitors. It is remarked, as a singular indication of the uncertainties attending excursion traffic, that the proportion of arrivals is greatly in advance of the departures. This is particularly noticeable in the neighbourhood of Giants' Bay, where the well-known hospitality of the residents appears to have an extraordinary fascination for visitors. It is rumoured that although fresh arrivals take place daily, and no departures are announced, the number of visitors remains comparatively stationary, and the place has at no time been inconveniently crowded. Altogether there seems to be every prospect of a prosperous season.

From the _Giants Bay Broadsheet_, July 2nd.

Fashionable Arrivals.--Giant Blunderbore's Hotel: Sir Cap a Pie, Lady a Pie, the Misses a Pie, Master Hugh a Pie, and suite, from London; the Reverend Simon Cellarer, from Lincoln; Monsieur et Madame Froggi and infant, from Rouen, etcetera, etcetera.

Giant Cormorants Hotel: Fifty members of the West Anglian Anthropomorphic Society, under the conduct of Professor Hardhide.

Giant Galligantus's Hotel: Eighty-two visitors have arrived within the last two days. There will be vacancies in a week.

Notice.--The band will play daily in Blunderbore Park. Public receptions by the Giants in the pump-room every afternoon. Private "At Homes" every evening. Applications should be made early.

Departure.--Since our last report one visitor has left Giants' Bay. As he omitted to discharge his hotel bill, we forbear, pending proceedings, to publish his name.

From the _West Anglian Anthropomorphism_, July 1st.

A party of fifty of our members, under the distinguished conduct of Professor Hardhide, our President, have gone to explore the natural and animal beauties of Giants' Bay. It is expected that the excursion will result in much valuable information respecting the celebrated tall men of that famous resort. Our colleagues, we understand, are occupying Giant Cormoran's commodious hotel, and are much delighted with the arrangements made by their genial host for their comfort. A meeting of the society is summoned for September 1st, to hear the report of their interesting investigations.

From the _Rouen Weekly Supplement_, July 1st.

Nous avons l'honneur d'annoncer que nos concitoyens distingues, Monsieur Alphonse Froggi, avec sa charmante femme et jolie enfant sont partis hier par le paquet. On dit que leur destination est la Baie des Geantes, a l'Angleterre, ou ils resteront a l'Hotel Geant Blunderbore.

From the _London Times_, July 1st.

Major-General Sir Cap a Pie has been ordered for his health to the south coast, and leaves to-day, with family and suite, for Giant Blunderbore's Hotel, Giants' Bay.

From the _Lincoln Daily Gossip_, June 30th.

After a season of unusual fatigue we are happy to be able to announce that our eloquent townsman, the Reverend Simon Cellarer, has at last decided to give himself a long-earned rest, and has left this day (Tuesday) for Cornwall, where he will spend a few weeks in seclusion at Giants' Bay. The reverend gentleman has, we are glad to say, taken his tricycle with him.

From the _Excursionist's Guide_.

Advertis.e.m.e.nt.--Cheap Daily Excursions. Special facilities. Return tickets at the price of single. Magnificent air. Sea bathing. Fine hotels--Blunderbore, Cormoran and Galligantus. Hundreds of visitors daily.

From the _Scampingtonian_ (the Holiday Number of the Scampington School Magazine).

The following from a Pie minor will be read with interest by our readers:--

"Blunderbore's, Giants' Bay.

"Dear Chappies,--I don't think much of Cornwall. The gingerbeer's beastly bad, and there's not a single chap here can play tennis. The bathing's only so so, and not a boat to be had except an old barge, which Blunderbore uses as a skiff. He's a regular rum Johnny, old Blunderbore; stands about 18 feet in his stockings, 108 inches round the chest, and got a voice to match. He's the boss of this place, and tries to be civil, people say. There's a jolly mixed lot at this hotel. A French chap who doesn't know his own language, at least he pretended not to when I talked to him and said, `Il regarde comme un mouille jour.'

Any a.s.s would know what that meant; you would yourselves. Then there's a lot of old fogies who belong to a society or something, and go and measure, old Blunderbore round the chest and biceps, and photograph him, and all sorts of tomfoolery. How'd they like it themselves? They say they're working in the interests of science. I'd like to catch any one working in the interests of science on my biceps! Rather a rum go yesterday. The governor and mater were asked to an `At Home' at Blunderbore's private house. I was asked too, but backed out. They went in full toggery, and haven't turned up again at the hotel. I asked Blunderbore, and he said he saw the last of them about eleven last night, and was very sorry when their visit came to an end. I suppose they've gone and lost themselves on the way home. I shall have to go and look for them. Blunderbore wants me to go to his next party, but I shall get out of it if I can. Ta, ta, chappies. It's jolly slow here.

The only lively chap is a parson from Lincoln with a tricycle; also a medical fellow just turned up called Jack, a sort of dark horse, who doesn't talk to anybody.

"Yours ever,--

"Hugh a Pie.

"`P.S.--The fellow called Jack is a swell with the boxing-gloves. He doubled me up in two rounds, and it's not everybody could do that.'"

From the _West Anglian Anthropomorphist_, July 10th. [A communication from the learned President.]

I antic.i.p.ate the more detailed account of this singular neighbourhood, which I hope to make when I address you at the meeting on September 1st, by a few preliminary notes on some most extraordinary anthropological discoveries which certain members of the society have recently made among the inhabitants of Giants' Bay. At a very early period of the world's history, midway, it is conjectured, between the glacial and basaltic epochs--that is to say, about 100,000 years before the creation of the world--there appears to have prevailed an unusual divergence in the normal stature of the mammal bipeds in the county of Cornwall.

Fossil remains indicate the primeval existence of an undersized race whose average height has been ascertained to be 4 feet 8.30562 inches.

This precise figure has been calculated by a member of this society, from the measurement of an apparently human footprint discovered in the chalk deposit thrown up in course of the erection of a public lamp, in the vicinity of the a.s.sembly Room. As the heavy rains of the last few days have unfortunately obliterated this interesting impression, the society is to be congratulated on the prescience of the member who was energetic enough to measure it while still existent.

In contrast to this diminutive race we have discovered traces of a gigantic race, still in existence. Three of these remarkable beings inhabit this locality, where they occupy high positions as proprietors of the leading hostelries of the place. Indeed, I _may_ say that the members of the society at the present time at Giants' Bay have the good fortune to be quartered on the premises of one of these singular specimens of a mammoth prehistoric civilisation. An opportunity is about to be given to each member singly to inspect the phenomenon thus opportunely brought under observation.

It need hardly be stated that the collaboration of the individual reports which it is proposed to make promises to result in one of the most important contributions to anthropological science which has ever been placed on record. The preliminary inspection is to be made by the president to-morrow; and it is expected that the complete report will be ready for the public about the end of the month.

From the _Giants Bay Broadsheet_, July 10th.