The Wallypug in London Part 3

"There! What do you think of it?" he asked when he had finished.

"Well, candidly, I'm afraid not very much," I replied; "and what on earth do you call it an ode for?"

"Why, you see, ode went so well with the word toad. I was going to call it 'Ode to a Toad,' but it isn't _to_ a toad at all, though it's about a toad. Ah! by the bye, I might call it 'A Toad's Ode,' mightn't I? I think that sounds very jolly." He altered the t.i.tle in pencil.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I LOVE BUT THEE"]

"I have another which I think you will say is very touching." And after getting his handkerchief out in case he should be moved to tears, he began:

THE BALLADE OF A BUN.

Don't talk to me of "Sally Lunn,"

Or toasted tea-cake nice and hot, I do not care for either one A single solitary jot; My heart is fixed and changeth not, In all the world--whate'er I see, And rich or poor--whate'er my lot-- Oh! penny bun, I love but thee.

For thy dear sake all cakes I shun Smeared o'er with jam. No apricot Or greengage tart my heart hath won; Their sweetness doth but cloy and clot.

What marmalade in fancy pot Or cream meringue, though fair it be, Thine image e'er can mar or blot?

Oh! penny bun, I love but thee.

I vowed to cherish thee, or none (Such love thy simple charms begot), When first I saw thee, precious one; And now to some sweet lonely spot, Some shady dell or mossy grot, Come let us hasten, you and me, And I will eat you like a shot; Oh! penny bun, I love but thee.

_Envoy._

Small boys or girls that homeward trot From school in time for early tea, This moral ne'er must be forgot: "Love penny buns, and they'll love thee."

"Isn't it affecting?" he inquired, wiping his eyes when he had finished.

"Well, perhaps I didn't quite appreciate the pathos of it as I might have done," I answered, trying hard not to laugh. "You see I was paying so much attention to the scansion. I find that you have altered the refrain in the Envoy. Surely that's not correct, is it?"

"Oh, you are a great deal too particular," remarked the Rhymester crossly. "Why, I should think from the Doctor-in-Law's description of a critic that you must be one."

"What did he say a critic was?" I asked.

"Why, he said a critic was a person who found fault with another, for not doing what he was unable to do himself. And he charged me fourpence three-farthings for the information, and as I only had fourpence halfpenny I have to pay him the odd farthing when I sell some of my poems. Can you tell me how I can set to work about it?"

"Well, I hardly know," I replied, "unless you send them to the editors of the various magazines. They may take them, but you must not be disappointed if some of them are rejected. You see they cannot possibly print everything that is sent to them."

There were several magazines in the study, and I suggested that the Rhymester should make a list of the addresses of the various editors, and he was busy about that till luncheon time.

At half-past two the carriage came to the door, and goodness only knows what General Mary Jane must have told the livery stable people about the Wallypug, for, evidently anxious to send an equipage worthy of royalty, they had painted an enormous monogram in gold on the sides of the carriage, while the coachman was resplendent in blue plush and gold lace, with silk stockings and a powdered wig.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "EQUIPAGEOUS GRANDIOSITY"]

The Wallypug was delighted when he saw this elaborate turn-out, and so were the others, for I overheard One-and-Nine murmuring something about "equipageous grandiosity," as he climbed up to the seat beside the coachman. When the Wallypug, the Doctor-in-Law, A. Fish, Esq., and the Rhymester, were seated, there was no room left for the boy and myself, so we followed behind in a modest dog-cart, which was hurriedly procured from the livery stable. Many were the wondering glances bestowed upon the carriage, with its somewhat remarkable burden, as we drove along through Kensington to the Gardens. And everywhere our appearance was hailed with enthusiasm, people being evidently under the impression that the Wallypug was one of the royal guests invited to the Jubilee festivities. Who could he be? That was decidedly the question which everyone was asking, and I could not quite determine who was causing the greater sensation, the Wallypug or A. Fish, Esq. These two individuals, however, comported themselves with the calmest dignity, only the Doctor-in-Law seemed flurried by the attention which they attracted, and smiled and bowed right and left, whether the people took any notice of him or not.

As we approached Hyde-Park corner attention was diverted from the Wallypug's carriage by the fact that _another_ royal equipage had entered the Park gates; and as the Princess pa.s.sed us, an amused glance and a whispered conversation with the other occupant of the carriage showed that the Wallypug's extraordinary party had not escaped Her Royal Highness's attention.

After going once round the Park we went out at the Marble Arch and along Oxford Street to Holborn, our progress through the crowded streets everywhere attracting the most excited interest. And when we stopped before one of the large bicycle _depots_ in Holborn the crowd around the carriage was so large that the policeman had quite a difficulty in preventing a block in the traffic. Our business was soon transacted, and, having secured an excellent machine for the boy in place of the one which his Majesty had damaged in the morning, we drove back to Kensington without further adventure.

The Wallypug's curiosity, however, was so awakened by what he had seen that, as soon as we had been refreshed by a cup of afternoon tea, he suggested that we should go out for a walk; accordingly the whole party proceeded to Kensington Gardens, followed by a curious and somewhat derisive crowd of small boys, who would insist upon advising the Wallypug to "get his hair cut." Now, I happened to know, from what Girlie had told me about her adventures in Why, that the Wallypug, though a kind of king, had to do as his people directed and not as he liked, and that when he had presented a pet.i.tion in Parliament to be allowed to have his hair cut, they had divided upon the subject, and so he had only been allowed to have _half_ of it cut, and as the long half had by this time grown very long indeed, he certainly did look rather remarkable; that was no excuse though for the street boys'

rudeness, and his Majesty very wisely took no notice of them. A. Fish, Esq., came in for the greatest amount of attention, and when a few drops of rain began to fall, and he put up an umbrella for fear that he should get wet, the crowd became so excited that the Doctor-in-Law wisely suggested that a return should be made. His Majesty, however, was bent upon sight-seeing, and so the party separated, the Doctor-in-Law, A. Fish, Esq., and One-and-Nine going home, while the rest of us continued our walk. When we reached the Gardens, the Wallypug was greatly interested in seeing the palace where the Queen was born, and said that he should certainly pet.i.tion his Parliament to allow him to have soldiers walk up and down before the gates of his palace, like those which he saw here. He admired greatly Princess Louise's statue of the Queen, which stands in front of the palace, and said he couldn't imagine where-ever they could have got all the white sugar from to make it with, and I think that he was inclined to disbelieve me when I told him that it was not made of sugar at all, but of white marble; for he said that if that were the case he couldn't think why they wanted to put such high railings around it, as no one would wish to carry away a marble statue of that size, whereas, if it were sugar, as he suggested, why, of course, the railings were there to prevent the children from climbing up and breaking off little pieces to eat.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FOR FEAR HE SHOULD GET WET]

The Round Pond and the little model ships interested His Majesty most of all though, I fancy, and he spent quite a long time admiring them, until, while a.s.sisting a small boy to get his ship ash.o.r.e, he had the misfortune to slip into the water himself, and had to be fished out with the a.s.sistance of a boathook.

His Majesty certainly did not look either dignified or regal as he stood on the bank saturated with water, and his royal robes clinging about him in the most woe-begone manner--and as the crowd had greatly increased, I was very glad to get the poor Wallypug into a cab and drive home.

[Ill.u.s.tration: HIS MAJESTY HAS AN ACCIDENT]

On our way there, the Rhymester, being very much afraid of getting his clothes wet, sat in the furthest corner of the cab and amused himself by writing a verse on the subject of his Majesty's misfortune, which read somehow like this:

"King George I've heard is King of Greece, But since this luckless slipping, The Wallypug I do declare Should be the King of _Dripping_."

I think his Majesty thought it rather unkind of the Rhymester to make fun of him in this way, but before he had time to think much about the matter, we had arrived at our destination, and to my great surprise I could see a vast crowd collected at the doors of the building in which my flat is situated.

CHAPTER III

SUNDRY SMALL HAPPENINGS

Whatever could it all mean? The Doctor-in-Law stood on the steps, calling out, "Walk up, walk up, ladies and gentlemen, and see the Talking Fish," while large posters were pasted on the walls, bearing the words, "Admission Sixpence" and "One day only."

The Commissionaire who usually stands at the door was looking very surprised and angry, while the page boy was grinning all over his face. Whatever was happening? I hastily paid the cabman, and followed by the Wallypug made my way through the crowd to the entrance.

"Admission sixpence each," said the Doctor-in-Law, holding out his hand.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "WALK UP, WALK UP, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN"]

"What do you mean?" I replied, "and what is all this crowd doing here?"

"Admission sixpence each!" repeated the Doctor-in-Law stubbornly, not taking the least notice of my questions, and holding his wand across the doorway so that I could not get in.

"Nonsense!" I cried; "I'm not going to pay to go into my own house."

"Pay for the Wallypug then and I'll let you in free," said the little man insinuatingly.

"I shall do nothing of the sort," I cried, pushing past him and hurrying up the stairs.

To my surprise I found my rooms occupied by strangers. Sergeant One-and-Nine was reciting some of the Rhymester's poems in the dining room to three deaf old ladies, two of whom had ear trumpets, while A.

Fish, Esq., was holding a kind of _levee_ in my study, seated in a chair placed on the writing table, and was surrounded by an admiring crowd of people who were asking all sorts of questions.

Mrs. Putchy met me at the door.

"Oh, sir!" she exclaimed. "I'm so glad you've come home. I haven't known what to do with all these people."