Zigzag Journeys in Europe Part 7

"'What will your Worship have this morning?' asked the Duke.

"The tinker stared.

"'Has your Worship no commands?'

"'I am Christopher Sly,--Sly, the tinker. Call me not your Worship.'

"'You have not fully recovered yet, I see. But you will be yourself again soon. What suit will your Worship wear to-day? Which doublet, and what stockings and shoes?'

[Ill.u.s.tration: AMAZEMENT OF CHRISTOPHER SLY.]

"'I have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings than legs, nor more shoes than feet; nay, sometime, more feet than shoes. I tell you I am Christopher Sly, and I am a tinker,' was the puzzled reply.

"But the ducal chamberlain only bowed the more.

"Sly continued to look about him in amazement. At last, he said, with much hesitation,--

"'You may bring me my best suit. The day is pleasant. I will dress becomingly.'

"'Now you are yourself again. I must hasten to inform the Court of your recovery. I must fly to her Grace the d.u.c.h.ess, and say, "The Duke, the Duke is himself again!"'

"'The Duke! I tell you I am Christopher Sly,--old Sly's son, of Burton Heath,--by birth a peddler and by trade a tinker. Duke Sly! No. Duke Christopher! or, better, Duke Christophero! Marry, friend! wouldn't that sound well? It may be I am a duke, for all. Go ask Marian Hacket, the buxom inn-keeper of Wincot, if she don't know Christopher Sly,--Duke Christophero; and if she say I do not owe her fourteen pence for small ale, then call me the biggest liar and knave in Christendom!'

"The servants presently brought the poor tinker a silver basin, 'full of rose-water, and bestrewed with flowers.' Then they brought him a suit of crimson, trimmed with lace and starred. The bewildered fellow stared awhile in silence; then he slowly put on the gorgeous apparel.

"The tinker next was conducted to a magnificent banqueting-hall, where was spread a rich feast. The tables smoked with venison and sparkled with wine. He was led to a high seat beneath a canopy of silk and gold, the d.u.c.h.ess following, and seating herself by his side. Knights and ladies filled the tables, and the tinker began to feast and to sip wine like a duke indeed.

"'I wish'--said he, suddenly.

"'What is your wish?' asked the d.u.c.h.ess.

"'I wish that old Stephen Sly was here, and John Naps and Peter Turf, and my wife Joan, and Marian Hacket: wouldn't it be jolly?'

"Christopher had never smacked his lips over such wine before, and he drank so deeply that his ideas became mixed again. The feast ended.

The ladies sung and the musicians played, but Christopher continued drinking as long as he could hold a beaker. He began to be sleepy, and presently tumbled from his high seat beneath the silken canopy to the floor,

'Where he sleeping did snore, Being seven times drunker than ever before.'

"And here the reign of Duke Christophero came to a sudden end. The real Duke ordered the attendants to take him away, and to put upon him his 'old leather garments again.'

"'When the night is well advanced,' said the Duke, 'take him back to the place where we found him, and there watch his behavior when he awakes.'

"Poor Christopher Sly woke in the morning to find his glory gone. The sun shone on the snow-covered gables of Bruges. He looked around him with woe in his face, as he saw the snow beneath him instead of a couch of down, and the sky above him, instead of a silken canopy, sprinkled with gold. He snuffed the frosty air, and, heaving a deep groan, he said, 'And I am old Stephen Sly's son, after all. I have seen a vision. I will go home, and take my scolding from Joan.'"

"When we visit Bruges," added Tommy, "I hope we may all visit the resting-place of Duke Christopher Sly."

Tommy's story, although not of great value to the young travellers, was loudly applauded by the Club.

"I have heard," said Wyllys, "that there is a spire in Bruges four hundred and fifty feet high, and a tower that contains forty-eight bells; but I never heard before of Duke Christopher."

Ernest Wynn, who spoke French well and took a lively interest in French poetry, sang a Norman seaside song, which is a favorite in some of the coast towns, and is especially employed by the fishermen of etretat, when a ship goes out to sea in a storm. It began--

Le matin, quand je me reveille, Je vois mon Jesus venir, Il est beau a merveille, C'est lui qui me reveille.

C'est Jesus!

C'est Jesus!

Mon aimable Jesus!

Je le vois, mon Jesus, je le vois Porter sa brillante croix, La haut sur cette montagne: Sa mere l'accompagne.

C'est Jesus, C'est Jesus, Mon aimable Jesus.

In the morn, when I awake, My Jesus near I see.

He is wonderfully beautiful-- It is He that wakens me.

It is Jesus, It is Jesus, My lovable Jesus!

I see, I see my Jesus Bear over the mountain high His cross of light, accompanied The Holy Mother by.

It is Jesus, It is Jesus, My lovable Jesus!

The selection was a rare one, and was mentioned by Master Lewis as being exceptionally creditable.

George Howe and Leander Towle presented acceptable exercises on "Norman Industries" and "Peasant Customs." The last topic seemed to excite Tommy Toby to try to throw some farther light on this romantic and interesting country.

"Would you like to know what lovely-looking creatures these Norman peasant girls are, and how they look?" said he. "Well, they look [going to the blackboard and drawing with a crayon a moment] just like those."

[Ill.u.s.tration: {NORMAN PEASANT GIRLS.}]

"I am very gratified," said Master Lewis, "at the amount of historic study our proposed tour has already stimulated. One must read and study _to see_. Dr. Johnson used the comparison that 'some people would see more in a single ride in a Hempstead stage-coach than others would in a tour round the world.' Th.o.r.eau said,--

'If with fancy unfurled You leave your abode, You may go round the world By the old Marlboro' road.'

"You might have added many charming stories to those already told. In Calais, the last town of the Gallic dominions of the Plantagenets, we shall visit the scene of the siege of Edward III. and of the immortal Five who offered their lives as a ransom for their city, and whom good Queen Philippa spared. At Falaise, we may see the ruin of the castle from whose window Duke Robert, the father of the Conqueror, first saw Arletta, the tanner's daughter, and was enchanted with her beauty. At Rouen, we shall stand in the square where the Maid of Orleans was burned, and, in all places, in contrast with the dark romances of the past, will appear sunny hills, bowery valleys, and picturesque streams.

"I think it was Victor Hugo who said that 'Europe was the finest nation on the earth, France the finest country, and Normandy the finest part of France.' I do not ask you to accept his opinion, but Normandy is very beautiful."

Meetings of the Club were held every two weeks.

The boys tried to learn the secret which Tommy had been instructed to select. But he claimed that he had been instructed also to keep it.

"It would not be creditable to the Club to tell it now," he said.

CHAPTER IV.

ON THE ATLANTIC.