Great Sea. I am known there as the One-Armed Sorcerer. I came here,
with the genie whom I command by virtue of a ring of his hair, in order
to prove my skill against the witch. I undertook to release our good
friend the Highwayman and his ten fair daughters, but I am bound to say
that I managed it badly; so badly that the witch got the genie’s hair
away from me, and by means of that hair turned him into a dog and shut
me up inside the wasp’s nest. And all because I didn’t know the rule,
that you mustn’t speak before you’re spoken to.”
“A pretty good rule,” said I, “but if everybody observed it, who would
ever talk?”
“Well, anyway,” said the One-Armed Sorcerer, “here I have ten buttons,
and here I have ten threads from the genie’s head. I propose to make
you a doublet, sir; a magic doublet; and for the cloth, the wasp’s
nest will be the very thing. It will be a doublet worth having; and
to you, sir, who have so nobly preserved us all, I will present it
on--er--ahem!--on your wedding day.”
“Hurrah!” piped up the elderly Highwayman, and the lady on my arm
blushed.
“Oh, isn’t that sweet of him?” cried her nine sisters. “Isn’t it just
too sweet for anything? It’s really the sweetest thing, now isn’t it?
Too perfectly sweet for words, it is, really!”
The One-Armed Sorcerer, stepping over to the wasp’s nest, pulled it
down from the tree without breaking it, and slung it on his back.
“Come with me!” I cried. “You shall all return with me to my father’s
castle. Will you consent to that?”
“Well,” said the elderly Highwayman,--
“Though anxious to accommodate, I fear it’s growing rather late,
I seldom stay out after eight--”
“Oh, father!” cried his daughters, nine of them, together, “it would be
perfectly jolly!”
“It would suit me to perfection,” said the One-Armed Sorcerer.
“Oh, _won’t_ it be jolly? It _will_ be jolly, won’t it? Wouldn’t it be
perfectly jolly?” cried the nine young damsels, clapping their hands.
“Will you come home with me?” I whispered to the fairest of the ten,
who had said nothing.
“If you wish it,” she whispered, blushing again.
“Oh, aren’t they just the dearest things?” cried her nine sisters.
“It’s love at first sight--oh, the dear things! Aren’t they just simply
too dear for anything? They _are_ perfectly dear, now, aren’t they?
Really now, aren’t they just too perfectly _dear_?”
_The Prince Leads His Beloved Home_
Well, the long and the short of it is, we reached my father’s castle
late that night, under a starry sky. The attendants whom I had left in
the forest had returned without me, and the castle was a-twitter with
anxiety. But when I led my fair lady into the great hall and presented
her to my father, the King, and her nine sisters and the elderly
Highwayman and the One-Armed Sorcerer stood bowing behind us, there was
joy, I can tell you, and the rafters rang again.
My father, after a long look at the beautiful damsel at my side, and
then at me, gave a long, slow whistle, without making a sound, and
stooped and kissed her on both cheeks, nudging me with his elbow at the
same time.
A cheer went up again, and my father took me aside and whispered in my
ear.
“You rascal,” said he, “I never thought you had it in you to-- Really!
You don’t say so! You astonish me! A Highwayman’s daughter! Well, well,
think of that! Very original of you, my son; I’m sure I never would
have thought of such a thing at your age. She’s got a fine eye, my boy;
there’s a look in it I’ve seen in your mother’s eye; a will of her own,
you can’t fool me about that look,--yes, yes, very beautiful,--but a
will of her own, remember I told you. A Highwayman’s daughter! That’s
good. Highly original. Well, well, it might have been the Hangman’s
daughter--but remember what I told you about that look in the eye, I’ve
seen it before,--your mother used to--but she’s certainly beautiful all
the same--when does the wedding come off?”
_The Magic Doublet Is Presented at the Wedding_
We were married on the morning of the third day. Such feasting, such
dancing, such merriment,--and gifts innumerable; but the best gift of
all was a doublet, made with his left hand by the One-Armed Sorcerer
from the skin of the witch’s wasp’s nest, fastened by the witch’s ten
buttons sewed on with the genie’s hair; a doublet to preserve the
wearer from all harm. And this, as the wedding dinner was nearing its
end, the One-Armed Sorcerer, rising in his place, presented to me with
a pretty speech, for which I thanked him.
“Sir,” said my father, addressing the One-Armed Sorcerer, “I invite
you to remain with me at my court, to instruct my son in the mystery
of handling a wife. Nobody but a sorcerer should undertake such a job.
Will you try it?”
“Alas, your majesty,” said the One-Armed Sorcerer, “it is far beyond
my powers. And besides, I must return to my island home, on pressing
business.”
“Very well, then,” said my father. He took my bride’s hand in his and
patted it, while she looked down in confusion. “My dear,” said he to
her, “you must persuade your sisters to remain here with us. And as for
your father, I design to appoint him Lord Treasurer of my kingdom. I
think a Highwayman ought to be a good man to take charge of my money.
Will you persuade him to accept that office?”
“Oh!” cried the nine sisters, without giving my bride a chance to
speak. “That _would_ be jolly! Oh, _wouldn’t_ it be jolly? It _will_
be just too perfectly jolly for anything, won’t it? But really, though,
_won’t_ it be jolly? Just too simply, perfectly, adorably _jolly_!”
“Your majesty,” said my father-in-law the Highwayman, rising up on his
elderly legs,--
“Although I am not confident that I’m entirely competent, I thank
you for the compliment,
I thank you most sincerely;
I fear I am not very quick in matters of arithmetic, but often when
the answers stick
I get them,--very nearly;
And if at first I don’t succeed I try again, although indeed I
cannot say I always heed
Each wretched little fraction;
And anyway you must agree if one but knows his Rule of Three
there’s hardly any need to be
Acquainted with subtraction.
“I do not wish to seem to boast, of all things I detest it most,
and yet I think I’d fill the post
Not very ill, not very:
From early youth I did betray, I’ve often heard my mother say,
a really rather taking way
In matters monetary;
A simple little rule or two I always try to keep in view, to do
what I am told to do,
And always speak politely,
And never make a saucy joke behind the backs of other folk, a rule
which I have seldom broke,
If I remember rightly.
“My motto is a simple one, that happiness depends upon the consciousness
of duty done
(Unless it’s too unpleasant),
I value virtue more than wit, and as for riches, I admit I do not
value them a bit
(At least, not just at present),
I think, however, I should state, that though I don’t mind working
late, I like to be at home by eight,
When supper’s on the table;
And thus, in words of simple art, I thank you, Sir, with all my
heart, and promise I will do my part
(At least, as far as able).”
[Illustration]
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.