CHAPTER VI.--MRS. MARTHA MATILDA NIMPKY.

[Illustration: 9102]

HE Lord High Adjudicator had barely made this announcement when the

attendant returned, followed by a rosy-cheeked woman in a very bright

shawl and a bonnet with an enormous quantity of flowers and feathers on

it. She had little black corkscrew curls hanging down on either side of

her face, and was leading a little boy of about four years of age by the

hand: he was very beautifully dressed, and was a charming little fellow

with short golden curls and a chubby, little, smiling face.

The woman stopped at the door and made a curtsey, while the little boy

looked about him with great curiosity.

“Mrs. Martha Matilda Nimpky, widow, gentlemen,” announced the woman, “and

His Little Royal Highness, the son of the Crown Prince of Zum.”

“Bless me, my good lady, you don’t say so!” said the Lord High

Adjudicator, jumping up from his chair and offering it to the woman,

while the Busybody Extraordinary fussed about and placed another chair

by its side with his cloak over it to make it look something like a

throne for His Little Royal Highness.

“Yes, gentlemen, I have a strange story indeed to tell you,” said Mrs.

Martha Matilda Nimpky when they had all settled down again.

“Before you begin, I should like to ask, is His Royal Highness the Crown

Prince alive and well?” asked the Lord High Adjudicator anxiously.

“Well, I can hardly tell you, sir,” replied Mrs. Martha Matilda Nimpky.

“He’s invisible.”

“Invisible!” exclaimed everybody in surprise.

Mrs. Martha Matilda Nimpky nodded mysteriously, and drew the little

Prince closer to her so that she could put one arm around him.

“The Crown Prince of Zum and his dear lady, who was the Princess of

Limesia, have both been rendered invisible by the King of Limesia’s

Magician, Ohah!”

“Dear me, how very shocking!” exclaimed the Lord High Adjudicator, while

the rest of the Committee displayed the greatest of interest.

“Yes, gentlemen, it happened in this way,” continued Mrs. Martha Matilda

Nimpky. “When your Crown Prince started on his travels about five years

ago, he came to Limesia, and seeing our dear Princess, at once fell in

love with her and wished to marry her. The King of Limesia, however, who

was still angry about that affair of the Portmanteau----”

“Yes, yes, we know about it,” exclaimed the Lord High Adjudicator,

nodding violently.

“Well,” continued Mrs. Martha Matilda Nimpky, “the King of Limesia

wouldn’t hear of their getting married, so as they were very much in

love with each other they were married secretly and lived in concealment

until about three months ago, when your King of Zum died and the Prince

thought that he ought to come home and be crowned King. But before they

started, he, and the Princess went to the King of Limesia to beg his

forgiveness. Instead of forgiving them, though, he flew into a fearful

passion, and summoning Ohah, the Magician, he ordered him to cast a

spell upon both of them so that they might gradually become invisible.

Poor dears! I shall never forget that day when they drove home from the

Palace, looking very indistinct about the head, and told me what had

happened; for you must understand I have been living with them ever

since they were married, first as the dear Princess’s Maid, then as

Nurse to the dear little Prince here.”

[Illustration: 0105]

“Well, as I was saying, the Prince told me all about it. ‘Nimpky,’ he

said--that was the way he always addressed me, gentlemen--‘Nimpky,

it will be useless now for me to go to Zum. I am quite sure that an

invisible King would be a great trial to my poor subjects, and I

feel more and more shadowy every hour. You must take the little

Prince’--meaning this little lamb, gentlemen--‘You must take the little

Prince to Zum and tell the Lord High Adjudicator all about it, and give

him this signet-ring, which he will recognise as having belonged to me,

and see that the little Prince is made King, because he is the lawful

successor to my father’s throne.-’ Those were his very words, gentlemen,

and soon after his head disappeared entirely, so that he was unable

to speak. The poor dear Princess disappeared too, a bit at a time, and

although for a day or two we could understand them a little by the signs

which they made,, they eventually became so indistinct that we could

scarcely see them at all. The dear Princess’s left foot was the last

thing to go, and that remained visible for some days after the rest of

her body had disappeared. People used to come from miles, I assure you,

gentlemen, to see her Royal Highness’s foot, for she was greatly beloved

by all the people at Limesia, and now, out of respect for her, all

the ladies have taken to going about with their feet bare like the

Princess’s; for I must tell you, gentlemen, that our Princess was noted

for her beautiful feet, and had never worn shoes in her life, only

sandals when she walked abroad. Poor dear! I often think there must have

been something she wanted to tell me very much, by the way in which her

big toe wriggled about just before the foot entirely disappeared,

which was only ten days ago.” And Mrs. Martha Matilda Nimpky put her

handkerchief to her eyes.

“Well, gentlemen,” she continued, after a time, “I waited until the

last symptom of my dear Prince and Princess had vanished, and then I

journeyed here to fulfil the Prince’s wish. I had to be very careful

about it too, for if that old King knew about the little Prince (which

fortunately he does not) he would have caused him to have been made

invisible too. Now there’s one thing I should like to beg of you,

gentlemen, and that is that you will allow me to continue to be Nurse to

His Little Royal Highness, for I am greatly attached to the dear little

fellow and Mrs. Martha Matilda Nimpky took the little Prince on to her

lap and lovingly brushed the little golden curls from his forehead.

“Dear me! dear me! this is a very extraordinary story,” said the Lord

High Adjudicator. “May I see the signet-ring, please?” he asked.

“Certainly, sir; here it is,” replied Mrs. Martha Matilda Nimpky,

handing him a very curiously wrought golden ring.

“Yes, that belonged to His Royal Highness, sure enough,” declared the

Lord High Adjudicator; “and now that I look more closely at the little

boy I can see that he bears a remarkable likeness to the Crown Prince.”

“Long live the King!” shouted the Busybody Extraordinary suddenly; and

everybody else got up and joined in the cry, “Long live the King! Long

live the King!” till the rafters rang again.

The little Prince looked somewhat alarmed at all the shouting, but

he was a brave little fellow, and only said to Mrs. Martha Matilda

Nimpky,--

“Nurse, what do all those mans make that noise for?”

The Nurse said something to quiet him, and they all sat down again; and

then the Lord High Adjudicator, after conferring with some of the other

gentlemen, said,--

“Mrs. Martha Matilda Nimpky, on behalf of the rest of the Committee and

myself, I should like to say that we think you have behaved in a very

praiseworthy manner in obeying His Invisible Highness’ wishes so.

carefully, and we shall be very glad indeed if you will accept the post

of Grand Perpetual Nurse to the King of Zum (for of course His Royal

Highness will be crowned to-morrow) at a suitable salary and a choice of

apartments in the Royal Palace.”

“Hear, hear!” shouted several of the Committee, while the Kitchen Poker

in Waiting foolishly started singing, “For she’s a jolly good fellow,”

and was promptly suppressed.

“I shall be delighted, gentlemen, to accept ‘the position!” said Mrs.

Martha Matilda Nimpky, looking greatly pleased.

“Then there is nothing further to be done but to conduct you to the

Palace and to make preparations for His Royal Highness’ Coronation

to-morrow,” said the Lord High Adjudicator, leading the way to the door.

The Royal Nurse took the Prince’s hand, and was preparing to follow,

when the little fellow caught sight of Boy, who had been sitting with

One-and-Nine and the M.D. listening with the greatest attention to all

that was going on.

[Illustration: 0111]

“Who’s that boy, Nurse?” asked the Prince.

“Hush, dear, I don’t know,” said the Royal Nurse.

“But I want him to come and play with me,” demanded His Royal Highness,

“and that Soldier man, too.”

“My dear, you must be a good boy and come with Nurse. Perhaps another

day the little boy will be allowed to play with you,” said the Royal

Nurse, trying to lead him along.

“But I want him to come now, Nurse dear,” persisted the little Prince.

“If His Royal Highness desires it,” suggested the Busybody in

Extraordinary, “you had better let the boy accompany you to the Palace.

When His Royal Highness is made King to-morrow, you know, his wishes

will have to be obeyed absolutely.”

So Boy and One-and-Nine were told to follow the others into the Palace,

which joined the House of Words, and which was a very magnificent place.

A large crowd of Servants were in the Hall, and outside Boy could hear

shouts of “Long live the King! Long live the King!” For the news of the

little Prince’s arrival had travelled quickly, and the people were all

delighted to welcome a grandson of the late King, who had been

greatly beloved, notwithstanding a very awkward circumstance about a

Portmanteau, which, perhaps, I will tell you later on.

The little Prince and the Royal Nurse were conducted up the grand

staircase, the Prince turning around to Boy and saying, “Good-night,

little Boy, I’m sleepy tired now, but I shall see you to-morrow,” while

Boy and One-and-Nine were led in another direction to a suite of rooms

overlooking a beautiful garden. Here they were served with a bountiful

supper by a Footman, who had been set apart to wait upon them only. His

name, Boy found out, was Cæsar Maximilian Augustus Claudius Smith, but

he was called Thomas for short. Thomas was a very nice man, Boy thought,

and although he seemed to think a great deal of himself he was very kind

to them.

After they had finished supper and Thomas had cleared away the supper

things, Boy noticed that One-and-Nine seemed very quiet.

“Is there anything the matter?” he asked anxiously.

“I am afraid,” remarked One-and-Nine sadly, “that she will never

condescentionise to affectionate me.”

“Who?” exclaimed Boy.

“That majestuous lady, the Royal Nurse,” said One-and-Nine, sighing

sentimentally.

“You don’t mean to say that you have fallen in love with her, surely?”

said Boy, feeling greatly inclined to laugh.

“Who could help it?” declared the Wooden Soldier. “I am completely

smot!”

[Illustration: 0114]

“Smot! What’s that?” asked Boy.

“Smite, smitten, smot,” exclaimed One-and-Nine.

“And what a charmaceous name, too,” he continued--“Martha Matilda

Nimpky. How lovelyish! Do you think she cares for me even a smallish

bit?”

“Well, I’m afraid she scarcely saw you, you know,” said Boy. “Perhaps

she will when she knows you better,” he added, wishing to comfort the

poor lovesick soldier.

“Do you think it would be wise to send her a love-letter?” asked

One-and-Nine anxiously, “or an Ode,” he suggested, brightening up. “Yes,

I’ll write her an Ode--that’s what I’ll do.”

“I’m afraid I don’t quite know what an Ode is,” admitted Boy; “but I

suppose it won’t do any harm to send it.”

“Oh, an Ode is a kind of Poemish letter that people send when they are

in love. I’ve Oded before,” said One-and-Nine, giggling foolishly.

“What shall you say?” inquired Boy.

“Well, let me see,” said One-and-Nine. “In Oding a lady you have to

think of what you most admire in her, and take that as your subject.

The last time I Oded, you know, it was about Miss Dolly-girl’s eyes. It

began thusly:=

```"'The Rose is red, the Violet’s blue,

```But neither have such eyes as you.

```Yours are the kind I most admire;

```They shut and open with a wire.’=

Miss Dolly-girl told me she was much flatterated by the

complimentation.”

A knock at the door interrupted the conversation at this point, and

on Boy’s calling out “Come in,” to their great surprise His Absolute

Nothingness the Public Rhymester entered. He was weeping, and carried

an enormous pocket-handkerchief, which he put to his eyes every now and

then.

[Illustration: 0117]

“I heard that you were greatly in favour with the young Prince,” he

began, in a broken voice, “and thought I would ask you if you would

kindly try and have me restored to my position as Court Poet again. I

assure you I am not really half as bad as they tried to make out at the

Committee Meeting this morning. The fact of the matter was I had just

received a great shock, and it had driven all the poetry out of my head.

Just as I was starting in the morning my wife told me that the cook had

left and the man had called for the taxes. It was enough to upset any

one, wasn’t it?”

“Well,” said Boy, who was a kind-hearted little fellow, “I don’t know

that we can do much for you, but I will certainly speak to the Prince on

your behalf to-morrow if you wish.”

“Oh, thank you! thank you very much, sir,” said the Public Rhymester,

brightening up at once, and vainly trying to stuff his handkerchief,

which was quite as large as a small table-cloth, into his pocket. “And

if I can ever do anything for you, write you a Valentine, you know, or

your Epitaph, I shall be only too delighted.” One-and-Nine, who had been

sitting bolt upright while this conversation was going on, seemed to be

suddenly-struck with a bright inspiration.

“Are you an Oder?” he asked abruptly of the Public Rhymester.

“An Oder?” repeated he vaguely. “What’s that?”

“A person who writes Odes, of course,” replied the Wooden Soldier;

“because, if you are, I should be greatly obligated if you would kindly

write one for me. I intentionized writing it myself, but I have been

considerizing that it would be more properish to have it written by a

real Poet.”

“Oh, thank you, sir, thank you!” cried the Public Rhymester gratefully,

“it is very kind indeed of you to say that. A poor Poet, you know, gets

very little praise from any one nowadays, especially a Minor one, such

as I am. Why, a Grand Old Statesman said the other day--but there, I

mustn’t let you into State Secrets. What is the subject upon which you

wish me to write?”

“Oh,--a--a--lady,” said One-and-Nine bashfully, blushing up to the roots

of his green paint.

“Of course,” said the Public Rhymester smilingly; “it usually is.”

“And particularly about er--er--a--the corkscrew curls, you know,” said

One-and-Nine, stammering nervously. “Such delightfulish fascinationizing

curls--six on each side, you know--and they woggle when she shakes

her head--oh, dearest, _dearest_ Martha Matilda,” and the poor Wooden

Soldier seemed quite overcome by his emotions.

“Ah! these military men, these military men,” said the Public Rhymester,

shaking his head, “what susceptible creatures they are, to be sure,

always in love with some fair one or other! But there, we must do the

best we can for him, I suppose. What is the lady’s name?” he inquired.

“Mrs. Martha Matilda Nimpky,” replied One-and-Nine faintly.

“What! the Royal Nurse?” exclaimed the Public Rhymester in surprise.

The Wooden Soldier nodded his head.

“Well, I hope you’ll win her,” said the Public Rhymester, “though I

think it’s only fair to warn you that you must expect to have a great

many rivals. Don’t you see,” he went on, “being Nurse to the little

King, she is sure to have immense influence over him, and so will be one

of the most important people in the kingdom. Oh, she’s sure to have

no end of suitors; however, you are first in the field, and a handsome

military man like yourself ought to stand a good chance. Now don’t speak

to me for a few moments while I write the poem for you.”

The Wooden Soldier and Boy sat perfectly still while the Public

Rhymester took a note-book and pencil from his pocket and began to walk

rapidly up and down the apartment, pausing now and then to jot something

down in his book, and occasionally clutching his hair and rolling his

eyes about violently. Once Boy sneezed, and the Public Rhymester

glared at him fiercely and then told him that he had entirely driven a

beautiful word which _might_ have rhymed with cucumber out of his head,

and he would have to alter the whole verse. At last, however, the poem

was finished and the Public Rhymester proudly read as follows:--

TO MRS. M. M. N.

``"Oh, Martha most majestic,

```Matilda quite sublime,

``For thee I’d do the bravest deeds,

```Most giddy heights would climb.=

``"Oh! almond rock’s delicious,

```And so is clotted cream,

``And Birthday Cake is not so bad;

```But these things tasteless seem;=

``"For I have seen Matilda,

```And other joys have fled,

``Her dazzling beauty’s vanquished me,

```And turned my wooden head.=

`"I love thee, dear Matilda,

```Far more than other girls,

``For there’s not one amongst them all

```That wears such corkscrew curls.=

``"Such lovely little corkscrew curls,

```Just six on either side,

``That woggle when you shake your head--

```Oh, will you be my bride?"=

“Isn’t the last line rather abrupteous?” inquired One-and-Nine when he

had finished.

“Why, that’s the best part about it,” replied the Public Rhymester. “You

see you pop the question so suddenly that you quite take the lady by

storm--and that line comparing her to ‘other girls’ is very wise, you

know; she is sure to feel flattered at that.”

“Do you think that I ought to sign my name at the bottom of it?” asked

One-and-Nine, folding the paper up neatly.

“I shouldn’t if I were you,” replied the Public Rhymester. “You can

see what effect this has upon the lady, and if you think that she is

pleased, I should follow it up with another, but I shouldn’t sign my

name at first; it will make it a little mysterious, you know, and ladies

like that sort of thing, I am told. But now I must be off. Good-night.

You won’t forget to do the best you can for me to-morrow, will you?” and

the Public Rhymester hurried away with his enormous handkerchief tucked

under his arm, while One-and-Nine sealed up the Poem--after adding the

following words, which he thought might improve it:=

```"The rose is red, the violet’s blue,

```Sardines are nice, and so are you”--=

and handed it to Caesar Maximilian Augustus Claudius Smith (called

Thomas for short), to deliver, and then, after saying good-night to Boy,

retired to his own room, which was on the other side of the corridor.

[Illustration: 8121]

Boy sat up a little while longer, thinking of all the strange things

which had been happening; and then he followed the Wooden Soldier’s

example and went to rest too.

The Missing Prince · 第 6 / 12 章