A NEW KING.
Everybody looked at everybody else, and then all looked at Harry, as if
to say, “What shall we do?”
Harry pondered a minute, and finally ordered a troop of his armed men
to proceed to the nearest door first, and see who was there. They did
so, and soon returned, followed by a large number of the ex-King’s
body-guard. The soldiers looked much bewildered at seeing Harry on the
throne, but as he held up the sceptre they all bowed very low before
him.
“Where have you been?” demanded Harry.
The leader bowed low again, and answered, “If it please Your Royal
Majesty, we were sent by the King—that is, by the _former_ King—to look
for you and Wamby.”
“Well,” said Harry, “you have found us, so you may go and stand along
the wall over there.”
The soldiers obeyed, and ranged themselves along the wall like a lot of
naughty schoolboys.
The other door being opened, a second body of soldiers entered, and
were ordered to stand along the opposite wall.
“Now,” said Harry, “let us again proceed to business. Bring the ex-King
before me.”
When the former King was brought, Harry proceeded: “You are charged
with being a tyrant. You have unlawfully punished over a thousand of
your subjects, and have been a bad fellow in other ways, so I hear.
Have you anything to answer?”
The deposed monarch looked sullen, and made no reply.
“Well,” said Harry, “I’ll put it to a vote. All who know that the
charges against the ex-King are true, please say ‘aye.’”
A perfect chorus of “ayes” rang through the Hall.
“Now, all who believe the charges are false, say ‘no,’” continued Harry.
“No!” yelled the Lord of the Safety-Pin.
“You’re a prisoner yourself and haven’t any right to vote,” said Harry.
“Bring that fellow here.”
The Lord of the Safety-Pin shook his little fist at Harry, as he stood
before him, and cried out shrilly, “You are a common mortal, and have
no right to be our king! I hate you! You stole my slave Wamby. I’m glad
I stuck you with a pin. ’Twas I had you and Wamby arrested! ’Twas I—”
When he had gotten thus far, he choked and spluttered with rage.
“Here!” cried Harry, “hand him up to me!” Taking the vicious little
fellow by the collar, he laid him across his knee and gave him a sound
spanking, while the assembled elves danced and shouted with delight.
“Take from him all his safety-pins,” said Harry, “and give them to
Wamby, who will divide them among the most worthy of the esquires and
retainers of the Safety-Pin Order. Then shut up the fellow in prison
for two months, and after that let him begin over again as a common Pin
Elf.”
“And now,” went on Harry, “for the third time, let us dispose of the
ex-King. Which one of you elves has been down with the Gnomes the
longest?”
Kitey arose and said, “If it please Your Royal Majesty, I have;
fifteen years ago, as you mortals count time, was I banished to the
mines.”
“Is that correct according to records?” Harry asked of the Grand Royal
Recorder.
“If it please Your Royal Majesty, it is correct,” responded that
individual.
“Then listen to my sentence,” said Harry. “The ex-King is to be sent
to the Gnomes to work in the mines for fifteen years. After that he
is to become a retainer in the Order of the Hat-Pin, with a chance to
work his way up, if he behaves himself. If any of you object to the
sentence, don’t be afraid to speak out.” For he noticed that many of
the elves looked dissatisfied.
“The sentence is too light,” cried a number of voices.
“Well,” said Harry, “we mustn’t be too hard. Since I have been king I
can see how easy it is to be tyrannical.
“Now bring Smithkin here. Smithkin, I forgive you. You were faithful
to your former master, be just as faithful to your new king. But you
must begin over again as a common soldier, so that by obedience you may
learn better how to command.
“As for you fifty soldiers who led us hither, each one of you is hereby
appointed an officer over fifty men.
“The elves who have been in the mines are to take the positions they
had before they were banished.
“Have you all those orders written down in the records?” he demanded of
the Grand Recorder.
“I have, Your Majesty,” was the reply.
“Kitey,” continued Harry, “I appoint you Grand Royal Prime Minister.
Get up, Wamby, and give him that seat at my right.”
Wamby complied, but his face wore a disappointed and grieved look, as
if he thought it hardly fair for Harry to pass by him and give to Kitey
the place of honor.
“Now,” said Harry, “I am going to abdicate, and you must elect a new
king.”
So saying, he attempted to rise, but found himself unable to do so. The
throne was made for a Pin Elf, not for a good-sized boy, and it was so
small that Harry had become wedged fast. The elves perceived at once
what the trouble was, and forgetting all fear and decorum, laughed and
danced about with glee, shouting, “You’ve got to stay on the throne!
You can’t get away! You’ll have to be our king always!”
But after tugging away until he grew red in the face, Harry managed to
wriggle loose and stand up.
“No, no,” he cried; “you must have a Pin Elf for your King. I have
been here a long time, and want to go home; my folks will be very
anxious about me. I nominate Wamby as king,—all who are in favor of the
nomination say ‘aye.’”
The elves saw that Harry meant it, and all shouted “aye” lustily.
“Sit down, Wamby,” said Harry. For little Wamby was standing in
open-mouthed wonder, and seemed hardly to understand what was being
done. Harry handed him the hat-pin, and put on him the crown and royal
mantle.
“Do you all promise to be faithful to Wamby, and obey him as long as he
is a good king?” cried Harry.
“We do,” was the unanimous response.
“Now, Wamby, stand up,” said Harry. “Do you promise to be a good, kind
king, and to rule according to the laws?”
“I do,” replied Wamby.
“Everything is settled, then,” said Harry, stepping down from the dais;
“so, wishing you all good luck and good-by, I’ll go. Good-by, Wamby.
Here’s your hat.”
“Wait a moment,” said Wamby; and turning to the crowd of elves, he
addressed them as follows: “Fellow Pin Elves, although Harry refuses to
remain king over us, a position he well deserves, I feel sure he will
not decline election as a prince of the royal family of Hat-Pins.” This
suggestion met with great approval, and Harry was unanimously elected a
Prince of the Hat-Pins, with all the rights and privileges of the order.
When the ceremony was over, Harry once more said good-by to all the
elves. He took off Wamby’s hat, but as soon as it was removed, Pin
Elves and throne and everything disappeared, and he was standing in a
bare, empty room.
“This won’t do,” he cried. “I must keep the hat on till I get above
ground.” And he clapped it on top of his head again, when instantly
everything became once more visible.
“We’ll all accompany you to the entrance,” said Wamby.
So off they went in grand style, Wamby and Harry ahead, with Kitey
on one side, and on the other side the Grand Royal Recorder, an old,
withered elf, with large, gold-bowed spectacles perched on his sharp
nose, and a big pen behind his ear; then came some of the soldiers;
next, the lords, with their knights and esquires; then more soldiers,
and in the rear a large multitude of the ordinary elves.
Finally they reached the chamber with the trap-door that opened into
Central Park. Wamby and Kitey, with a number of others, ascended the
steps with Harry. When they reached the top, Harry turned and waved
good-by to the elves below.
“Oh,” cried Wamby, “I’ve forgotten something. Where is the Grand Royal
Treasurer?”
A tall elf, with a pouch hanging at his side, stepped forward.
“Have you jewels in your pouch?” inquired Wamby.
“I have, Your Majesty,” replied the Treasurer, and he opened the pouch.
Harry looked, and rubbed his eyes in amazement, for the pouch was
crammed full of flashing and sparkling diamonds, rubies, and emeralds
of immense size.
[Illustration: “HE PUT THE ... JEWELS ... IN A LITTLE BOX.”]
Wamby smiled at the expression on Harry’s face. “Help yourself,
Prince,” said he. “Keep them as a slight token of my gratitude.”
“I don’t want them all,” said Harry. “One of them alone is worth a
fortune. I shall just take one of each kind, and thank you, old chap,”
and selecting three of the precious stones, he slipped them into his
pocket.
“Here is your door-pin,” said Wamby. “I shall be glad to have you come
down again at any time. Will you promise to come if I ever need you?”
“Why, certainly,” answered Harry.
“Then listen,” said Wamby; “if you should see a little green twig
sticking in the pin-hole in the centre of this rock, it will be a sign
that I want you. Now let me see if the coast is clear.”
Inserting his own door-pin in the hole overhead, he repeated:
“Pin, pin,
Trusty and stout,
I am within
And want to look out.”
“All right,” he said, as he glanced through the crack of the door; “no
one is near the rock. But a Park policeman is coming in the distance,
so we must hurry.”
Harry hastily snatched off Wamby’s hat, and holding it out felt Wamby
take it. Of course the elves became invisible the instant the hat was
off. Then the door opened, and Harry felt his legs grasped by a number
of elfish hands, and he was lifted up bodily and tossed through the
opening so violently that he rolled off the rock upon the grass.
When he jumped up, he was sure he heard Wamby’s voice, shouting,
“Good-by, Prince Harry!” and it seemed to him that he could see the
trap-door just settling into place. But as the Park policeman came up
at that moment, he looked away from the rock and began brushing the
dust from his clothes. When he reached his room at home, he put the
wonderful door-pin, with the jewels Wamby had given him, carefully in a
little box. “I have had some surprising adventures,” he thought, “and,
at any rate, I have given the Pin Elves a good king.”