THE WALLYPUG GOES TO WINDSOR
While they were all busy in the preparation of _The Wallypug's Own_, I
thought it an excellent opportunity to run down to Folkestone in order
to make arrangements for hiring a house, as I intended taking my
guests to the seaside for a few weeks.
I felt a little anxious about leaving them to themselves, but hoped
that they would be too busy and interested in the new magazine to get
into trouble.
It was most unfortunate that I should have gone just then though, for
directly I had left the Wallypug received a polite letter from one of
the Court officials to say that the Queen would be pleased to receive
his Majesty and suite at Windsor on the following day.
[Illustration: A ROYAL INVITATION]
Of course, as you may imagine, the Wallypug was in a great state of
excitement at receiving this royal invitation, and wished to telegraph
at once for me to return and advise them how to act and what to do, on
this important occasion; however, the Doctor-in-Law, so I have been
given to understand, persuaded his Majesty not to do anything of the
sort, and added that I "was always poking about and interfering, and
was better out of the way"; so his Majesty, who was very anxious to do
the right thing, consulted Mrs. Putchy as to the proper costume to be
worn, and the etiquette to be observed.
"Well, your Majesty," remarked Mrs. Putchy in reply, "I scarcely know
what to advise. When in my younger days, I acted as lady's maid to the
Countess of Wembley, I know her ladyship wore a Court train and
carried a bouquet when she was presented to the Queen."
"Where did the engine go?" asked his Majesty curiously.
"The engine!" exclaimed Mrs. Putchy.
"Yes; you said she wore a train, didn't you?" said the Wallypug.
"Oh! but I didn't mean that kind of train," laughed Mrs. Putchy; "I
meant a long sort of cloak fastened on to the shoulders and trailing
along the ground at the back--they are generally made of satin and
velvet, and are decorated with flowers and feathers and lace, and that
sort of thing. Your Majesty's cloak would do nicely if I trimmed it
for you."
"But are you sure that gentlemen wear these sort of things?" inquired
the Wallypug.
"Well, I couldn't rightly say, your Majesty, but I'm sure I've seen
pictures of kings and such like wearing trains which were borne by
pages, so I feel sure your Majesty would be safe in wearing one."
So it was arranged that, after having been carefully brushed, his
Majesty's velvet cloak was to be gaily decorated with lace and large
bunches of flowers, and, to make the thing complete, a large bouquet
was tied around his sceptre, and, at the Rhymester's suggestion,
little knots of flowers were attached to the knobs of his Majesty's
crown.
The little man was highly delighted with his appearance when all these
arrangements were concluded, and could get but very little sleep that
night for thinking of the great honour which was to be his the next
day.
The whole household was early astir in the morning, and at about
eleven o'clock the carriage came to take the royal guests to the
station.
Arrived at Waterloo, the Doctor-in-Law, after making various inquiries
as to the price of the tickets, etc., actually had the meanness,
despite the remonstrance of the railway officials, to insist upon the
whole party travelling down third-class, remarking that he "found the
third-class carriages reached there quite as soon as the first, and a
penny saved was a penny gained."
The station master at Windsor was particularly put out about it, as,
in honour of his Majesty's visit, the station had been gaily decorated
and a carpet laid down to the carriage door. His Majesty, however,
made a brave show as he walked up the platform preceded by the
Doctor-in-Law, his gaily decorated train borne by the Rhymester, and
followed by A. Fish, Esq., and One-and-Nine, the latter carrying a
mysterious bandbox, which contained a present from the Wallypug to her
Majesty. (See frontispiece.)
Inside and out the station was crowded with curious spectators, all
eager to catch a glimpse of his Majesty and his remarkable retinue,
and cheer after cheer resounded as the station master, bare-headed and
bowing, ushered the party to the royal carriage with the red and
gold-liveried servants, which had been sent from the castle to meet
them.
The bells were ringing, and the streets were crowded as they drove
through the old town, and his Majesty thoroughly enjoyed the drive,
while the Doctor-in-Law was quite in his element amidst all this fuss
and excitement.
I did not care to inquire too fully into the details of his Majesty's
interview with the Queen, but I was given to understand that the whole
party was treated with the utmost kindness.
Her Majesty graciously accepted at the Wallypug's hands a gilded
crown, an exact copy of the one he wore himself, and which he had had
made expressly for her Majesty, having been struck by the fact that
her Majesty's real crown was always kept locked up in the Tower, and
hoping that perhaps this one would do for second best.
I could not gather that her Majesty had actually promised to wear it,
but I do know that the Wallypug was made exceedingly proud and happy
by the gift of a portrait of her Majesty herself, with the royal
autograph attached, and that he will always remember the occasion of
his visit to Windsor, and the kindness with which he was treated by
everyone, particularly by the little Princes and Princesses, her
Majesty's great grand-children, who led him about the Castle grounds,
and showed him their pets, and the flowers, and conservatories, and
all the wonderful sights of that wonderful place.
In the evening there was a dinner party, at which her Majesty did not
appear, and early the next morning a royal carriage again drove them
to the station _en route_ for London.
All this I learned on my return from Folkestone. I also heard of an
extraordinary evening party which had been given at my house during my
absence. It appears that the invitations had been sent out by the
Doctor-in-Law the very day upon which I left, and about thirty guests,
including the Duchess of Mortlake, had been invited. Unfortunately,
however, this visit to Windsor had entirely driven the matter from the
Wallypug's mind, and the others had forgotten about it too, and so a
pretty confusion was the result.
It appears that one evening about seven o'clock they were all in the
kitchen making toffee, having persuaded Mrs. Putchy to let them have
the frying-pan and some sugar and butter, and it having been cooking
for some time the Doctor-in-Law had just told the Wallypug to stick
his finger in and see if it was done, when Mrs. Putchy came in to say
that some ladies and gentlemen had arrived, and were waiting in the
drawing-room.
[Illustration: TO SEE IF IT WAS DONE]
All of a sudden it flashed upon their minds that _this_ was the
evening upon which they had invited their visitors to the party.
Whatever was to be done? Not the slightest preparation had been
made--and his Majesty and the others were all more or less in a sticky
condition, and quite unfit to be seen by company.
A hurried consultation took place, during which they could hear more
and more guests arriving, and at last, by a brilliant inspiration, the
Doctor-in-Law thought of making it a surprise party, similar to those
given in America.
"It won't cost us anything either," he remarked complacently.
"But what is a surprise party?" asked the others.
"Never mind, you'll see presently," remarked the little man. "Run and
wash your hands now and make yourselves tidy."
A few minutes later the whole party filed into the drawing-room, the
Wallypug looking rather blank and nervous, and the Doctor-in-Law full
of profuse apologies for having kept the guests waiting so long.
"By the way," he remarked airily, "I suppose you all know that it's a
surprise party."
"Dear me, no," said the Duchess of Mortlake, speaking for the others.
"Whatever is that; I don't think it was mentioned on the cards of
invitation, was it?"
"Ah! a trifling oversight," remarked the Doctor-in-Law. "A surprise
party," he continued in explanation, "is one at which each guest is
expected to contribute something towards the supper--some bring one
thing and some another. What have you brought, may I ask, your Grace?"
"Well, really," said the Duchess, "I've never heard of such a thing in
my life before. I've not brought anything at all, of course; I'm
surprised at your asking me such a question."
"Ah, yes, just so," remarked the Doctor-in-Law triumphantly, "just
what I told you--a _surprise_ party, don't you see! Now, what I would
advise is that you should all go out and order various things to be
sent in for supper; we, for our part, will provide some excellent
toffee, and then you can come back and help us to set the tables and
all that sort of thing, you know--it's the greatest fun in the world,
I assure you."
And really the little man carried it off with such gaiety, that
entering into the spirit of the thing the guests really did as he
suggested, and went out and ordered the things, and afterwards came
back, and, amidst great laughter and fun, the tables were laid, every
one doing some share of the work, with the exception of the
Doctor-in-Law, who contented himself with directing the others and
chatting to the ladies.
[Illustration: THE WALLYPUG HELPS]
The poor dear Wallypug amiably toiled backward and forward between the
kitchen and dining-room with great piles of plates and other heavy
articles, and A. Fish, Esq., in his eagerness to help, was continually
treading on his own tail, upsetting himself and the various dishes
entrusted to his charge.
[Illustration: A. FISH, ESQ., UPSET]
At last, however, the supper was set, and the merriest evening you can
possibly imagine was spent by the guests. His Majesty was in capital
spirits, and after supper suggested a little dancing, which suggestion
was hailed with delight by the others, and, having moved some of the
furniture out of the drawing-room and pushed the rest away into
corners, the Wallypug led off with her Grace the Duchess of Mortlake,
and quite distinguished himself in "Sir Roger de Coverley." Afterwards
there was a little singing and music, several of the guests
contributing to the evening's entertainment. Amongst other items was a
song by A. Fish, Esq., rendered as well as his bad cold would permit,
of which the first lines ran:
I'b siddig here ad lookig at the bood, love,
Ad thinkig ov the habby days of old,
Wed you ad I had each a wooded spood, love,
To eat our porridge wed we had a cold.
Altogether the evening was such a success that her Grace declared that
it should not be her fault if surprise parties were not the fashion in
Society during the coming winter.