It is now the folowing Saterday.
Meanwhile the brothers Majpottel had not been idel for they had
wangeled it as well as they could, dropped a hint here and a word
there in the usuel way and kept expectations up to scratch for the
great day of Selia’s tussel with fate, and this was to come off that
very after noon.
Selia was lying on her second floor at the Grand Palace and being
swilled down by a lot of ladys and girls that had come round to look
after her like boxers are done to, and they rubbed and slapped and
jumped her about and flipped her with towels and squooshed water on
her till her arms were as hard as nails and so were her legs too which
was lucky as in tennis you want both.
When they had done with her they helped her to dress and pouder and
then attended her like handmaids to the taxi that was waiting, as
Mr. Withersquash had bought one for her to use. Mr. Withersq who was
now wearing the special poets badge in his coat was waiting for her.
“My hour has come” she wispered to him, she felt a bit bad inside at
the idear. “Have pluck” he wispered back “and then we can get
married!”
So off she drove to Lords which is a large park so called because all
the nuts go there to see the games going on. When they got there there
was a dense throttling crowd and they went in and had a look round to
get their breath before starting. Where they had got to was the wrong
part among the crowd so they pushed on through to the socierty part.
Selia was arrayed in a cordion pleeted white robe with shoes and
stockings to match and Mr. Withersq wore his best day suit and shiny
topper in fine stile and all made way for them with murmurs of praise
so on they stept very saucy.
When they came to the socierty part which had a rope round and went to
go in an haughty dame sniffled over them and would have stopped them
specially Selia.
“And pray what are you up to my good girl?” said she very nasty, but
just then their old friend the admiral came leaping up now in a white
garb, and said:
“Way for the Head Poet and Lady!”
So the haughty dame had to make way and felt very sore put down no
doubt.
After shaking hands with the admiral they stept on to where the King
and Queen had just arrived and said goodday to them which drew a cry
of surprise from all present to see them so well known by the Highest
in the Land.
His Magesty called out,
“The Lady Selia wants to beat the world with her skill at tennis. Who
will take her on?”
And Rupert and Gerald Majpottel now came tripping up and cried “Hi!
This way for the lady tennis champions! Anyone want to try their
strength? Walk up and try to beat the Lady Selia!” This made the
company laugh very harty to hear the brothers go on in this way, which
was their little joke and did a lot of good. For the head lady tennis
players who had been lounging idly in chairs behind the King and Queen
now sprang fiercely forward on hearing this cry of the Majpottels and
said “Here we are!” and there were three of them.
Meantime the crowd was crowding something awful all round the socierty
part and staring and the newspaper men were taking photos and
scribbling in books about it. Oh what a moment! Almost for a tick
Selia wished Mr. Withersquashes Unckle Burt had never passed away,
but then girding herself up, and blushing a little at the roar of
cheers that rose when the crowd saw that she was a sport, she tossed
off her hat with a proud toss, and summoned for a bat.
“Come on then!” she yelled to the head lady tennis players.
“Not so fast!” cried the Queen kindly “for there are three to one
against which we all know is wrong.”
So one of the three head tennis ladys who all had medals on their
chests because of all the games they had won, said she would take
sides with Selia. And some of the socierty folks snigered and said
“tosh” for they did not know Selia and bemeaned her being as they well
knew only humbel of birth for she had got her name up owing to having
got on so lately.
Out on the grassy sward she stept swashing her tennis bat while
Mr. Withersquash fondly gazed on her from beside royalty.
“Pom!” the game began and a ball came over. And “pom!” Selia hit it
back and so she went on. Nothing could get past her. Oh she was very
clever at tennis was Selia though her light had hitherto been under a
bushel.
Love thirty, love forty, game, so it went on and on for ages, and then
when at the last the lady partner playing with Selia got a bit waxy
because she never had a chance to touch a ball and began grumbling,
Selia took her on too and smashed her although she was on the same
side of the net, and smashed the two ladys on the other side and
smashed them all and they could hardly stand they were so tired and
cross.
“Hurrah, hurrah” cried Mr. Withersquash from the socierty part, and
the King and Queen stood up to have a better look and the crowd roared
and the brothers Majpottel fell on each others necks and cried very
loud and wet for joy they were so glad and in fact it was a proper
sight you never saw the like of until at last Selia threw up her
tennis bat in the air and cried very loud:
“Have you had enough?”
And the two lady players on the other side of the net and the one lady
partner who had also been beaten although a partner said all together:
“Yes!” and casting down the medals from off their dishonorable bosoms
they slunk away and were seen no more and Selia was left triumphant on
the field which was a neat little plot of green amidst all the
cheering multitude, and the Queen bekoned and she went back up into
the socierty part, hanging her head with modesty.
“Cheers” said the King kindly as she strode up, and the Queen took her
hand and patted it and said “You are made of good stuff my dear and
will make a good man happy” at which she made a meaning sign to
Mr. Withersq.
With a deep blush Selia slopped into his arms and he placed a kiss on
her lip at which all present cried aloud and smiled and were delited
to see a romance of the kind.
“I hereby announce that my Head Poet and his young lady Selia are
engaged” then said the King stroking his beard and he was the first to
shake hands with the honorable and lucky Harold.
Just then a page boy stepped up with a great bouquet in his hands
which he laid at Selia’s feet. So Mr. Withersq gave him a bob and on
the bouquet was a little label saying “With all good wishes from the
boys” so Selia knew she had not been forgot by her old friends.
And now let us take leave of Mr. Withersq with his Selia in his arms
surrounded by royalty and the flower of England’s socierty, he the
Head Poet and she the Queen of Sport. For what more could their hearts
desire?