_BUYING AN EXCUSE._
[Illustration]
IT was the Wallypug running down the road at a furious pace. He had his
big crown tucked under one arm and his royal cloak caught up under the
other. Although he was evidently in a very great hurry, he politely
tried to bow (_without stopping_) when he saw Girlie. The consequences,
however, were most disastrous, for, completely losing his balance, he
stumbled forward head over heels and then fell flat on his back, while
his crown went rolling away into the ditch at the side of the road. His
cloak had somehow become entangled with his legs, preventing him from
getting up, so he lay there kicking and struggling in the most
ridiculous manner imaginable.
Girlie kindly ran to his assistance, and, although bursting with
laughter, somehow or other managed to keep a grave face while she tried
to disentangle the cloak from his legs.
“I hope you have not hurt yourself much,” she said when the Wallypug at
last struggled to his feet.
“Oh no, your Majesty, thank you,” he said breathlessly. Then, nervously
looking around him, he said in a solemn voice, “I do hope, though, no
one else saw me fall, for I am liable to a fine of three and sixpence
for being undignified in public, and I am afraid that I _must_ have
looked rather undignified while I was lying on the ground. Oh dear!
wherever is my crown?” he continued, looking about him anxiously.
Girlie kindly fetched it from the ditch, which was fortunately a dry
one, and handed it back to him.
After examining it carefully, the Wallypug drew a small piece of
wash-leather from his pocket and began to polish it up, remarking that
he had always to keep the regalia bright himself.
“Where were you going to in such a hurry?” asked Girlie, while the
polishing operations were going on.
“Why, to the Excursion, your Majesty,” said the Wallypug. “This is Bank
Holiday, you know, and there is to be an excursion to the seaside.
Aren’t you going?”
“I should like to very much,” said Girlie, “but I have no money with
me.”
“Oh, it’s quite free, your Majesty,” said the Wallypug. “_I_ have to pay
for it all, you know. I always have to provide an excursion for the
people on Bank Holidays, and one more or less won’t make the slightest
difference, so you are quite welcome to go.”
“Thank you very much indeed,” said Girlie. “What time does the train
start?”
“I haven’t the remotest idea, your Majesty,” said the Wallypug. “We
never _do_ know when the trains are going to start here; the Porter and
the Station-master settle all that between themselves.”
“Then however do you know at what time to get to the station?” asked
Girlie.
“We _don’t_ know, your Majesty,” said the Wallypug. “So we just get
there as early as we can and then take our chances as to how long we
have to wait. How does this look now?” he continued, pulling his crown
over his head and drawing himself up with the most comical attempt at
looking dignified.
“Very nice, indeed,” said Girlie, trying hard not to laugh.
“Very well, your Majesty, let’s be going then,” said the Wallypug,
leading the way down the road. “I’m afraid it’s going to rain,” he said
a minute or two later, looking anxiously up into the sky. “We had better
hurry to the station,” and, taking Girlie’s hand, they began to run.
They had not gone far, however, before Girlie felt a drop of rain on her
forehead, then another, and another.
“We shall have to shelter somewhere,” said the Wallypug, looking about
for a tree to stand under.
“Isn’t that a house?” said Girlie, pointing further down the road.
“Perhaps they would let us stop there till the shower is over.”
“Oh yes, your Majesty; that is Madame Penguin’s shop. I daresay she
would be quite pleased to see us. Let’s hurry on.”
So they hastened forward and soon reached the little shop which stood at
the corner of four cross roads. It was a little, low, one-storied sort
of cottage built of stone. In the windows were a number of odd-looking
packages and envelopes, and over the doorway there swung a sign bearing
the words:
Microscopist
EXCUSE MAKER TO THE WALLYPUG AND THE ROYAL FAMILY.
_Elaborate Excuses prepared at the Shortest Notice._
The Wallypug opened the door, causing the little bell fixed to it to
tinkle violently.
Madame Penguin (who turned out to be the same Penguin Girlie had seen at
the Public Meeting) came hurrying out of a little room at the back of
the shop.
“Oh! _how_ do you do?” she said when she saw Girlie, “and how are you,
Wallypug?”
“Quite well, your Majesty, thank you, quite well,” said the Wallypug.
“We were caught in the shower, and thought that, perhaps, you wouldn’t
mind us sheltering here for a little while.”
“Delighted, I’m sure,” said Madame Penguin kindly, bustling about and
placing some chairs for them to sit on. “Oh! you are wondering what are
those little things in the glass cases, aren’t you, dear?” she said to
Girlie, who was looking about her curiously.
“Well, yes, I was,” admitted Girlie.
“Those are _Promises_, my dear,” explained Madame Penguin, “and we have
to keep them in glass cases because they are so very brittle; as it is,
we get a great many broken ones, and then we have to sell them like
this;” and she fetched a tray from the window with some little packages
piled on it, marked “BROKEN PROMISES, _three-a-penny each_.”
“_What_ a funny price!” thought Girlie, confusedly trying to reckon how
much a dozen would cost at that rate, and having to give it up at last.
“Do you sell many of them?” she asked.
“Oh, yes, a great many,” said Madame Penguin, “but _Excuses_ sell best.
You see, we keep all kinds, and children buy a lot of ‘_Excuses for not
doing home lessons_‘ and ‘_Excuses for staying away from school_.’ Then
some people buy dozens at a time, for they never like to be without one,
and just now I am having a great run on my ‘_Excuse for not having found
a goo_.’ You see, nearly everybody wants one. I sold one yesterday to
the Royal Microscopist. Can I show you a few?”
“I’m afraid I can’t buy any, for I have no money,” said Girlie, while
the Wallypug, after fumbling about in his pocket for a minute, asked,—
“Have you any very cheap ones?” “You see, I have eighteenpence a week to
spend as I like,” he explained to Girlie, “so I will buy you one, if you
wish.”
“It’s very kind of you,” said Girlie, “but please don’t trouble.”
Madame Penguin, however, had reached down a large brown box filled with
little packages, and placed it on the counter.
“This is a very good kind,” she said, picking out a blue one marked
(extra fine); “the price is only fourpence halfpenny. The sixpenny ones
are all sold. I have them as low as a penny each, though I don’t usually
recommend them. Some people, however, who think that even a _bad excuse
is better than none_, buy them.”
[Illustration:
“‘THIS IS A VERY GOOD KIND,’ SHE SAID.”
]
The Wallypug said he would have the one marked fourpence halfpenny, and,
after a struggle, drew his handkerchief out of his pocket with
eighteenpence all in coppers tied up in one corner of it. Solemnly
counting out fivepence, he waited for the change, and then carefully
tying it up in his handkerchief, which he put back into his pocket, he
handed Girlie the Excuse with a low bow, politely begging her to accept
it as a little present.
Girlie thanked him and began to undo the package, which she found
contained a sheet of foolscap paper with the following words beautifully
written on it:—
“EXCUSE FOR NOT HAVING FOUND OUT
WHAT A GOO IS.
“For thirteen months and sixteen days
I’ve tried in sundry sort of ways
To find out what a Goo is.
I’ve asked a Dog, I’ve asked a Cat,
A Mongoose and a Vampire Bat
That rudely asked ‘A who is?’
“I think I’ve found that it wears clothes,
And sometimes stands upon its nose,
And always bakes on Friday;
And though possessing nineteen feet,
And ofttimes more if quite complete,
It keeps its shoestrings tidy.
“It never talks aloud by day,
It cannot walk although they say
It ambles very neatly.
And though I scarcely can believe
It never laughs, but up its sleeve,
I’m told it giggles sweetly.
“But stranger still, I am assured
From information they’ve procured,
It turns pale green on Mondays.
Its washing day is Thursday week,
In character it’s very meek,
And never coughs on Sundays.
“Of course I cannot pledge my word
On only telling what I’ve heard,
And also what I’ve thought;
So perhaps you’d really best decide
To lay this paper now aside,
And value it at nought (= 0).”
“What a _splendid_ excuse!” said the Wallypug, when Girlie had finished
reading it aloud. “They can’t get over that, can they? You see, they can
either believe it or not just as they like. Did you think of it all
yourself, your Majesty?” he said, turning to Madame Penguin, who was
looking greatly pleased at his praise of her Excuse.
“Yes,” she said; “you see, I get quite a lot of new ideas from people
who come in and out of the shop.”
[Illustration:
“SHE COULD SEE THAT THE SHOWER WAS OVER.”
]
“Well, I must say, your Majesty, that your Excuses are not like those of
some people, who use the same ones over and over again. Now, I’m sure no
one has heard _that_ Excuse before.”
“Oh no,” said Madame Penguin, “I always make it a rule to have a
different Excuse every time.”
While they were talking, Girlie walked over to the door and looked out.
She could see that the shower was over, and she came back and told the
Wallypug so.
“Well, then, we must be going,” he said. “I’m sure we are very much
obliged to your Majesty for allowing us to shelter here.”
“Oh, don’t mention it,” said Madame Penguin, coming to the door to see
them off.
“Aren’t you coming to the excursion, too?” asked Girlie.
“No, dear,” said Madame Penguin. “I am going to stop at home and write
an excuse for not going. Good-bye;” and, after shaking hands with them
both, Madame Penguin hurried back into her little shop.
------------------------------------------------------------------------