CHAPTER II.--MISSION WORK IN SOUTH AFRICA.

The Rev. BANG MCSAXPENCE and his wife and child lived in great comfort

amidst the people they had taught so carefully. I do not quite know what

the educational curriculum happened to be, but no doubt it would have

merited the approval of the London School Board. They had a French cook,

called ADOLPHE, who seemingly had been obtained from a travelling Circus

that no doubt had passed the Mission House in the course of a provincial

tour.

"Oh, the monster! See the horrible man. He is a Mister Black," said

ADOLPHE, looking at UMBUGSOAPYGAS. The savage in a moment had dragged

out the little Frenchman's eyes, thrown them high in the air, rubbed

them in salt, and replaced them in their sockets. BONG, Sir HARRY, and I

could not help laughing.

A little later we were called in by Mrs. BANG MCSAXPENCE, and soon were

enjoying a really good cup of tea, I was putting forth my hand for a

fresh supply, when the breakfast-things were knocked over by a head

freshly severed from the trunk.

"Rough and _reddy_!" I suggested, with a laugh.

"Another carpet spoiled!" said gentle Mrs. MCSAXPENCE, trying to wipe

out the deep crimson stain.

"This is serious," observed the Rev. BANG MCSAXPENCE arming himself with

a carving-knife, "the Lorkymussies are upon us. And, to cause me greater

annoyance, they have kidnapped my daughter TOTTIE."

This turned out to be the case, and although we could not help smiling

at the notion of a fair-haired little girl being at the mercy of some

clumsy, tomahawking, brutal cannibals, we felt very sorry for the

bereaved father.

We started. The first victim was a sentinel. UMBUGSOAPYGAS clutched him

by the throat and pulling his head back, tore it off with a crack, like

the popping of a soda-water cork. Then we were upon them. There were

yells, crashes, and blood all over the place. The "Brain-pricker" was

here there and everywhere, scooping out brains just like a cheese-scoop

scoops out cheese to be tasted by the customers of a London butterman.

It really was all very amusing, and in spite of our servants being

absolutely cut to pieces, we were in the gayest spirits imaginable. That

all should end happily, who should turn up at the last moment but

TOTTIE, with a little pail into which the dear child had poured the

heart's blood of some of her persecutors.

"I shot six of them with my own little revolver," said the interesting

infant, as I stroked her golden-hair with my crimson-coloured fingers;

"wasn't it clever of me?"

We had a very good lunch, the _poulet a la Portugaise_ of ADOLPHE being

particularly worthy of a second helping. After this meal was over, I

went to the Rev. BANG MCSAXPENCE, and taking him by the arm, observed,

"I really think you ought to give up this sort of life. You see you owe

a duty to your wife and daughter--especially the latter, who, if she

does not receive any education, and only mixes with bloodthirsty

cannibals, may grow up wild, shunning her kind."

"You are right, SLAUGHTERMAN," replied the Minister, straightening his

carving-knife, which since the night before had severed many a human

rib. "I made up my mind to it this very morning, just before I began my

hacking and slaying. I won't risk another fight, but leave it to a

younger Clergyman. And besides, between you and me, I am well off. It is

thirty thousand pounds I am worth to-day, and every farthing of it made

by honest trade, and savings in the bank at Zanzibar--for living costs

me here next to nothing."

"You are right."

"I am sure of it," answered the Clergyman. "I will turn my back upon

this place in a month. But it will be a wrench--it will be a wrench."[B]

Punch, or the London Charivari. Volume 93. August 27, 1887 · 第 2 / 4 章