MORE TYRANNY OF A TITLED SERVANT
My daily papers seized, and only milk-and-water clippings are
submitted--"King's orders"--Grand Mistress's veracity doubted--My
threats of suspension cow her.
LOSCHWITZ, _September 10, 1894_.
This morning there were no newspapers at the usual hour. Instead, the
Tisch furnished a heap of clippings carefully pasted up--the veriest
milk-and-water slush "ever." Instanter I sent for my tormentor.
"What's this?" I demanded.
"Today's papers, Your Imperial Highness."
"You made these clippings?"
"At Your Imperial Highness's commands."
"And you think me ninny enough to be satisfied with reading no more than
what you consider proper for me to see?"
The Tisch wavered not a bit. "His Majesty the King is served the same
fashion."
"No matter. I want my papers whole, and don't you dare to mutilate
them." By way of letting her down easier I added: "Don't give yourself
the trouble."
"No trouble, I assure your Imperial Highness. With your permission,
then, I will continue to clip for Your Imperial Highness."
I rose and, measuring her from head to toe with flaming eyes, I said:
"You will do nothing of the kind, do you understand?"
The impertinent cat insisted: "But I think it proper----"
"Have you heard what I said or not, Baroness?"
She tried to save her face by asserting, "I am acting by command of His
Majesty."
"I will ask His Majesty whether you spoke the truth," I said quick as a
flash; "meanwhile you are suspended and will return to Dresden until
recalled. Ring the bell and I will give orders to the Master of Horse to
send you away."
Of course Tisch couldn't afford such an inquiry to be made, which would
have exposed her clumsy hand and, as remarked, royalty doesn't care to
be found out. Defeat staring her in the face, Tisch wavered: "Of course,
if your Imperial Highness chooses to take the responsibility, I will be
most happy to submit the papers as they arrive."
"In their wrappers," I commanded, as I dismissed her.
By distributing a hundred marks in silver, I found out that the Tisch
examines my body-servants daily and that, night after night, she sits
up hours writing long-winded reports. She is the King's tool, but she
let the cat out of the bag when cornered. That gives me the whip hand
for the time being.