MORE ADVENTURES
"It's the most contraryish place I've ever seen," declared
One-and-Nine.
"Yes," agreed the Wallypug. "There was no water in the moat."
"The Drawbridge didn't draw," echoed the Rhymester.
"Ad the beefeaters didn't eat beef," chimed in A. Fish, Esq., while
the Doctor-in-Law declared that for his part he "considered the
morning spent there had been entirely wasted."
They were talking about the Tower of London, and were telling Girlie
and Boy, who were spending the afternoon with us, all about their
visit there on the previous day.
I was sitting in an adjoining room--but the door being open I could
hear all that was said.
"How did you go?" asked Boy.
"Oh!" exclaimed the Wallypug, "in the most extraordinary way you can
possibly imagine. We went into a house in High Street, Kensington, and
bought some little tickets, and then we handed them to a man at a
barrier, who cut a little piece out of each one as we passed through."
"To rebebber us by," chimed in A. Fish, Esq.
"Yes," continued the Wallypug; "and then we went down two flights of
stairs, and by-and-bye a lot of little houses on wheels came rushing
into the station, and we got into one of them and before you could say
'Jack Robinson' we were rushing through a big black tunnel under the
ground."
"Why, you mean the Underground Railway," declared Girlie.
"Yes," agreed his Majesty. "And the little room we sat in had
beautiful soft cushions and a big light in the middle of the roof, and
little texts printed on the wall--"
"Texts!" exclaimed both of the children.
"Texts," repeated the Wallypug. "What were they? Do you remember?" he
asked of the others.
"Oh, one was, 'You are requested not to put your feet on the
cushions,'" said the Rhymester.
"Oh, yes, and 'To seat five,' and 'Wait till the train stops'--I
remember now," continued the Wallypug. "Well, we kept rushing through
the tunnel till we came to 'Holman's Mustard,' and a lot of people got
out, and then we went on again till we came to 'Smears' Soap.'"
[Illustration: "HOLMAN'S MUSTARD AGAIN"]
"It wasn't 'Smears' Soap,'" contradicted the Doctor-in-Law. "It was
somebody's Ink."
"Well, there were such a lot of names," declared the Wallypug, "it was
impossible to really tell which was which. I always took the name
opposite to my window to be the right one. The funniest part of it all
was, we kept coming to 'Holman's Mustard' over and over again. I can't
think how on earth the people know when to get out."
"Why, those weren't the names of the stations at all," laughed Boy.
"They were advertisements!"
"Well, where were the names of the stations then?" demanded his
Majesty.
"Why, in big letters on the walls of course," was the reply.
"They couldn't have been much bigger than those of 'Holman's
Mustard,'" persisted the Wallypug somewhat ungrammatically.
"Never mind about that; get on with your story," remarked the
Doctor-in-Law impatiently.
"Well, after going through a lot of tunnels and stopping ever so many
times, we got out at one of the stations and went upstairs into the
light again, and almost opposite the station we could see a lot of
grey stone buildings with towers and battlements."
"I know! You mean the Tower. We've been there," interrupted Girlie.
"Did you see the Lions?" asked the Wallypug eagerly.
"Lions! No!" exclaimed the children. "There weren't any; you didn't
see any, did you?"
"No, we didn't," admitted the Wallypug, "but the Doctor-in-Law told us
that there were some there."
"I read it in a book," declared the Doctor-in-Law. "But I daresay it
was all a pack of stories, like the rest of the things they said. Look
at the Crown Jewels for instance--bits of glass and rubbish. That's
why they put them in an iron cage, so you can't get at them to see if
they are real."
"Oh! I think they _are_ real," said Boy. "The Guide told us that they
were worth ever so many thousands of pounds."
"Yes, he may have _said_ so," remarked the Doctor-in-Law, "but I'll be
bound he wouldn't let you take them away and examine them for
yourself. I asked them to let me have one or two of the crowns and
things to take home and test, but they positively refused, although I
promised to return them within a week. They are afraid that we should
find out that they are only imitations--that's what's the matter."
"There weren't any kings or queens executed either the day we were
there," he continued, grumbling.
"Well, I'm sure I'm very glad that _that_ fashion has died out,"
declared his Majesty. "I don't mind admitting now that I was rather
nervous about going at all, for fear that I should have _my_ head
chopped off, and I should feel so very awkward without one, you know."
"Pooh! You needn't have been alarmed, for there wasn't a Lord High
Executioner on the premises, because I asked," declared the Rhymester.
"No, but do you know," said his Majesty, "I've found out since, that
he lives at the bottom of our street, and mends shoes for a living--he
does a little executing still on the sly, for I have seen his bill in
the window, 'Orders _executed_ with promptness and dispatch.' I asked
him one day what class he executed most, and he said that his
connection was principally amongst the 'Uppers.' He seems a very kind
man though, and not only executes orders, but heals them too, poor
souls! He charges 1s. 3d. for healing. His education has been sorely
neglected, I am afraid, however, for he spells it 'heeling.'"
"Did you see the Armoury at the Tower?" asked Boy.
"Yes, and there was another instance of deception," declared the
Doctor-in-Law.
"What do you mean?" asked Boy.
"Well, what is an armoury?" inquired the Doctor-in-Law.
"A place where arms are kept, I suppose," replied Boy.
"Just so, and there wasn't an arm in the place except our own," said
the Doctor-in-Law wrathfully.
"Why, they call guns and things arms," said Boy, laughing.
"Oh! do they?" remarked the Doctor-in-Law sarcastically. "Why don't
they call things by their proper names then? they might as well call
them legs, or turnips, or paraffin oil--bah! I've no patience with
such folly!"
[Illustration: "THEY WENT FOR BY CALVES"]
"I think they bight feed the raveds[1] bedder," complained A. Fish,
Esq. "They went for by calves, and if wud of those Beefeaters
hadn'd cub and driven theb away I shouldn't have had a leg left to
stand up od."
[1] He meant the tame ravens which are kept at the Tower.
"Beefeaters, yes!" remarked the Rhymester, "and a pretty lot they
were. I tried several of them with a piece that I had brought with me
in a little paper bag, and not one of them would touch it."
"Madame Tussaud's was better; we went there in the afternoon," said
his Majesty.
"Yes, but who was to know which were wax figures and which were not?"
asked the Doctor-in-Law.
"Well, you made a pretty muddle of it anyhow," said the Wallypug. "Do
you know," he went on, "the Doctor-in-Law made us all pay sixpence
each towards the catalogue, and then went around with us explaining
the various groups. He had just finished telling us that several
ladies, who were standing together, were Henry the Eighth's wives,
when they all marched off looking highly indignant."
"Well, how was I to know?" remarked the Doctor-in-Law pettishly. "I'd
never met a single one of Henry the Eighth's wives in my life, and how
was I to recognize them?"
"I don't think they would have binded so butch if the Rhymebster
hadn't pinched wud of theb to see if they were alive or dot," remarked
A. Fish, Esq.
"Did you see the Sleeping Beauty?" asked Girlie.
[Illustration: HE COULD GET NO ANSWER]
"Oh, yes! Isn't it cruel to keep her shut up in that case," cried the
Wallypug. "I'm sure she's alive, for we could see her breathing quite
distinctly. I was so concerned about it that I asked the Doctor-in-Law
to speak to a policeman who was standing near by about it. But he
could get no answer from him, and we found out afterwards that he was
only a wax figure."
"The best thig of all," remarked A. Fish, Esq., "was whed we all
pretended that we--"
"Dear me, it's very warm!" interrupted the Doctor-in-Law. "Let's
change the subject."
"Pretended that we--" continued A. Fish, Esq.
"Hush--sh--sh--!" cried the Doctor-in-Law in a warning voice.
"The fact of the matter is," explained the Rhymester, "the
Doctor-in-Law got us all to pretend that we were wax figures
ourselves, and he tied little money boxes in front of us with the
words: 'Put a penny in the slot and the figure will move,' written on
them, and when anyone put a penny in we all moved our heads and rolled
our eyes about."
"I didn't!" said the Wallypug.
"No, I know you didn't," replied the Rhymester. "And the Doctor-in-Law
had to explain that you were out of order, and that's how we were
found out, for the people wanted their money back and he wouldn't give
it to them, so they called the attendant, and we had to go out as
quickly as we could."
"Ad wasn't id beade?" said A. Fish, Esq. "There were four shillings
ad threepedce id the boxes, ad the Doctor-id-Law wouldn't give us a
penny of id."
"Well, I let you pay my fare home. That amounted to the same thing,"
replied the little man.
Just then Mrs. Putchy came in with afternoon tea, and I joined my
guests in the drawing-room.