(_BY MR. PUNCH'S OWN PROPHET._)
Last week I published a dispatch conveying to me the exalted approval
of H.S.H. the Grand Duke of PFEIFENTOPF. The closing words of
His Serene Highness's gracious letter informed me that I had been
appointed a Knight of the Honigthau Order, one of the most ancient
and splendid orders known to chivalry.
When HUNDSVETTER VON VOGELANG, of whom the ancient Minnesingers relate
that in his anger he was wont to breathe forth fire from his mouth
and smoke from his nostrils, when, as I say, the valiant and gigantic
HUNDSVETTER, with his band of faithful retainers (amongst whom one
of our own CAVENDISHES--_der Zerschnittens_ as they called him, found
a place), was assailed in his ancestral Castle of Meerschaum by the
wild hordes of the Turkish Zig-'arets, it is said that, with one
aged attendant, he mounted the topmost tower, prepared, if no sign of
succour showed itself, to cast himself to the ground or perish in the
attempt. But just as he had hurled his seneschal over the battlements,
in order, as he playfully observed, to make the falling softer, his
eye was arrested by a wreath of smoke in the middle distance. "May I
perish," said the gallant but sorely-reduced Teuton warrior, "if that
be not the war-sign of my uncle PFEIFENTOPF." Hastening downstairs, he
apprised his followers that succour was at hand. Armed with _klehs_,
they made a desperate sally, and, having taken the Zig-'arets between
two fires, utterly extinguished them. That night HUNDSVETTER'S only
daughter, the lovely and accomplished BREIA, was solemnly married
by the Archbishop of TÄNDSTICKOR, assisted by the Rev. WILHELM
SCHWANZPUDEL and the Rev. CONRAD RATTENZAHN, cousin of the bride, to
the K.K. OBERPOTZTAUSENDER VON THUTWEH, the leader of PFEIFENTOPF'S
advance-guard. The bride's going-away dress was composed of a simple
bodice of best Sheffield steel, with a gown of Bessemer composite
to match, and, in honour of the event, the Honigthau Order was
ceremoniously founded.
I have cited this tale at length, because some carping, malevolent
scribes have dared to insinuate, actually to insinuate in print, that
the Grand Duke and his Order have no existence. To these jelly-faced
purveyors of balderdash I only say this:--_How, if His Serene Highness
be a myth, could I receive from him the letter I published last week?_
But, to make assurance doubly sure, I sent the following dispatch
to the Grand Duke:--"Mooncalves cast anserous doubts on your serene
existence, and on that of Order. Kindly make me Grand Cross, and
send decoration in diamonds.". To this I have received the following
reply:--"You are Grand Cross made. Order _mit diamenten und
perlen_ now is being at the post-office by my Grand Chamberlain for
transmission abroad registered."
This should strike detraction dumb, I propose also to publish a
selection of congratulations from other Continental potentates, but
of this, as SHAKSPEARE says, Anon, anon!
Permit me, in the meantime, to go half-way towards revealing my
identity by adopting a pseudonym drawn from an immortal work, and
subscribing myself prophetically yours (and the public's),