Prince Vance: The Story of a Prince with a Court in His Box

"?reppus ot nwod tis ot uoy esaelp ti lliW" said the woman, after the Funny Man had busied himself a few moments with the dishes.

Vance stared in confusion, but the Funny Man seemed quite used to this odd way of speaking.

"Her talk is all hind-side before," he explained, chuckling, "since I turned her head about. Sit down! Supper is ready."

They all sat down. The unfortunate woman faced the wall behind her, and therefore she was a little awkward in ladling the soup. However, that was a slight affair, and Vance was far too famished to be particular. The pottage gave forth a most appetizing odor, and the Prince hastily plunged in his spoon and began to eat. He had not taken a fair taste before he stopped eating with a terribly wry face. The soup was bitterer than gall.

"Don't you like the seasoning?" snickered the Funny Man. "Now, come, that's too bad, when I thought 'twould be just to your liking!"

Too angry to speak, the Prince snatched a glass of water and drank, only to find it scalding hot and full of salt.

"Try a bit of venison pasty," urged his host, pleasantly. "No more fooling, on my word!"

"?opiH, enola dlihc roop eht tel uoy t'nac yhW" asked the wife, who seemed to be as kind-hearted as could be expected of one so twisted.

The Prince, however, had already tasted of the pasty, which proved hotter than fire with red pepper. So it was with everything on the table. Nothing was fit to eat. The ragout was full of pins and needles, the wine was drugged with nauseous herbs, the cakes were stuffed with cotton; and the Prince cracked his teeth instead of the almonds, which were cleverly made out of stone.

All this nonsense was very bitter to the hungry Prince, as you may suppose; but as for the Funny Man, he was quite wild with delight. He rolled over and over on the floor, and the tears of joy streamed down his cheeks at the success of his jokes.

"This is the best fun I've had for months," he cried. "This is joy! This is true happiness!"

"A very poor sort of happiness," the Prince said ruefully. "I think I will go to bed."

Alas! here things were just as bad. As the Prince entered his chamber a bucket of ice-cold water, balanced above, fell down and drenched him to the skin. His bed was full of eels and frogs; and when the poor boy tried to get a nap in a chair a tame owl and a pair of pet bats flapped their wings in his face and tweaked his nose and ears. At the earliest peep of dawn the tortured Prince shouldered his box and left his chamber.

Sitting on the balustrade, whittling, was the host.

XV

Good-morning!" said the Funny Man, politely. "I hope you slept well."

"I did not sleep at all," replied the Prince, hotly; "and of course you knew I wouldn't."

"That was the joke, you know," the Funny Man chuckled, pocketing his knife and preparing to lead the way to the breakfast-table.

The Prince, however, had no mind for another feast like that of the night before; so he resisted all urging and started forth.

"Don't miss the way!" said the Funny Man, who seemed to be much cast down because the Prince would not stay to breakfast. "Cross the stream, you know, than climb a red stile, and there you are on the straight road. If ever I come your way I'll make you a visit. I've taken a fancy to you."

"That's more than I've done to you," muttered Vance, as he trudged away.

He was very angry indeed with the Funny Man, and yet he had an unpleasant remembrance of a time, not so very far away, when he himself was the terror of the entire palace on account of his fondness for playing cruel jokes upon others.

The road was rough, the sun was hot, and the Prince was so famished that he was glad to devour a couple of apples which had fallen from the cart of a peasant bound for market. Still Vance cheered himself with the thought that his troubles were about to end. He was now near the home of the Crushed Strawberry Wizard; so he pressed on till mid-afternoon, only stopping once when he came upon some pears growing upon a stunted tree by the roadside. They were small, crabbed, and stony; but the hungry Prince was glad enough to gather a number and eat them seated in the pear-tree's scanty shade. As to the Court, it was quite a relief to Vance to remember that the peasants at the fair had provided the baby-house with cakes and bonbons enough to last for many days.

"After all," the Prince said to himself, as he once more trudged along, – "after all, they have a far easier time of it than I. I don't think I should much mind being little myself if I could have as good a time as they do."

Toward the middle of the afternoon the Prince reached a dark wood into which his road seemed to lead him. He had not walked far before he heard a sound as of somebody sobbing, and also a curious clashing noise as of cymbals striking together. These sounds became more and more distinct as the Prince kept on; and at last he came to a small monkey who was seated in a low juniper-tree, weeping most bitterly and now and then smiting its hands together in sorrow. The hands of the monkey, being of metal (as indeed was the creature's entire body), produced, as they beat together, the cymbal-like sounds which the Prince had heard.

"What is the matter?" asked the Prince, as the monkey continued to weep without paying any attention whatever to him.

The monkey, looking up, wiped its eyes upon a small lace handkerchief which was already quite damp enough.

"I am so miserable," it sighed. "Did you never hear folk say it was cold enough to freeze the tail off a brass monkey? I am the brass monkey. They mean me; they mean my tail."

"But it never has been cold enough to freeze your tail off," said the Prince, consolingly.

"No," replied the monkey, wretchedly; "but then I'm always afraid it will be, and that's just as bad. Oh, what a world this is!"

The monkey upon this fell to weeping more bitterly than before, and the Prince sneezed violently three times.

"There!" exclaimed the monkey, dismally; "now you're taking cold because I'm so damp with crying."

"Oh, never mind that!" replied the Prince, politely. "It really doesn't matter. A good sneeze is really quite refreshing."

"That reminds me," said the monkey, "that I was sent to tell you to go back again; this isn't the road."

"Not the – " began the Prince, looking puzzled.

"Road," finished the monkey, beginning to cry once more. "To the Crushed Strawberry Wizard's, you know. You have just come back by another way nearly to the Castle of Bogarru, where the giant lives. The Funny Man told you wrong."

"Told me wrong!" repeated the poor Prince, now thoroughly discouraged.

"Yes," said the monkey, "for a joke, you know. Oh, my beautiful brass tail! What a world this is!"

"This is the very worst and meanest joke of the whole!" cried the Prince.

He shivered at the idea of being once more near the castle of the terrible giant; and then he remembered the weary miles he had travelled that day under the burning sun, and thinking of these things he could have wept with right good-will, had it not been that the brass monkey had already made quite a pool of tears, and Vance was afraid of causing a flood.

"You must go back the way you came," said the monkey, wringing the tears from its handkerchief. "It will take you longer than it did to come, because now it will be night. At daybreak you will see three silver birches in a meadow; then climb the hedge and follow a row of large white stones till you come to a green stile; after this the path is straight to the Crushed Strawberry Wizard's door. You cannot miss it."

"If this is true," said the Prince, "I am a thousand times obliged to you. But are you quite certain that this, too, is not a joke?"

"Oh, my jointed brass body!" cried the monkey, mournfully. "Now, do I look like a joker? I never made a joke in my life, never."

"I should be only too glad," said the Prince, as he turned to go, "to do something to cheer you up, if I might."

"Oh, no!" wailed the monkey; "nobody can do anything. Besides, I like to be miserable; it is the only comfort I have. Go! it is getting darker every minute. Oh, my brass toes and fingers, what a world this is!"

At this the monkey wept so violently that Vance had to give up all idea of thanking him or even of saying good-by; so he contented himself by turning and hastening back along the path by which he had come.

XVI

Nearly all night the Prince kept on over the stony road. When the sky grew gray, he took a short nap under a thorny hedge, and by sunrise he was once more on his way. On his right, in a beautiful green field, he saw to his great delight three silver birches, their branches rustling lightly in the morning wind.

Vance climbed the hedge and walked on steadily, being guided, as the monkey had promised, by a seemingly endless row of pure white stones. At noon he came upon a green stile, but it was so crooked that the Prince thought he could more easily climb the hedge than get over it. As he drew nearer he perceived a curious little man, who appeared to be hunting for something in the grass at the foot of the stile. He was a good-natured-looking old man; but his head, body, arms, and legs, even his features, were twisted so that nothing about him was fair or straight. He greeted the Prince very kindly, however, and invited him to sit down by the brook and share his luncheon of bread and cheese. This, you may imagine, the famished Prince was only too glad to do.

"You've heard, perhaps," said the stranger, "of the crooked man who walked a crooked mile and found a crooked sixpence against a crooked stile? I am the man. I haven't found the sixpence yet, but hope to do so soon. I want to warn you, when you reach the Crushed Strawberry Wizard's, not to speak until he has spoken, or you'll spoil the charm for ten years."

"How good you are!" exclaimed the Prince, gratefully. "How terrible if, after all my journeying, I had spoilt the charm! Can I do anything for you? I will help hunt for the sixpence if you like, or I will beg the Wizard to untwist you."

"Oh, never mind!" returned the Crooked Man, cheerfully. "As to the sixpence, I must find that myself; and as to my crookedness, a whirlwind did it and a whirlwind must undo it. I don't mind. You see, I do not feel as badly as I look."

Thanking the kind little man once more for his luncheon and his good advice, Vance started off merrily through the beech-wood, feeling that his toilsome journey was truly drawing to an end at last. The birds sang, the brook babbled cheerfully beside him, and the breeze brought him sweet odors from a thousand flowers. Just at sunset the Prince left the wood, and came into a small open glade where the grass was like cool green velvet to his feet, and a crystal fountain splashed in the midst of a bed of flowers. Here Vance beheld a curious pink house shaped like an enormous strawberry; and before the door, busily making tatting, was a strange-looking person, all of a pinkish magenta color even to his hair, and wearing a gown and pointed hat of the same unpleasant hue.

Prince Vance had found the Crushed Strawberry Wizard at last.

XVII

It was well that Vance had been warned by the Crooked Man not to speak first, as he certainly would have done so, for in truth the Crushed Strawberry Wizard did not appear to be at all a talkative sort of man. He did indeed look up as Vance came near and put down his box; but he said nothing, and closing his eyes, went on making tatting in silence.

Vance stood on one foot awhile, and then on the other. He counted the white doves upon the peaked roof, and watched a small old lady who was gathering herbs in the tiny garden beside the house; but he was very careful not to speak. At last his patience was rewarded. The Wizard opened his eyes and spoke.

"The reason," he said very slowly, "that a sausage cannot walk is that it has no legs. You can understand that, can't you?"

"Oh, certainly!" replied the Prince, politely.

He was extremely anxious not to say anything to make the Wizard angry.

"Well, then," returned the Wizard, "don't pretend that you can't, that's all."

For some time longer the Wizard made tatting in silence; then once again he spoke.

"The reason," he said gravely, "that a horse has no trunk is because it is not an elephant. Can you see the philosophy of that?"

"Yes, your – " "Majesty," the Prince was about to say, in his eagerness to be polite; but he changed his mind just in time, and said courteously, "Yes, your Wizardship."

This appeared to please the Wizard, for he bent his head three times and invited the Prince in to tea. The table was already spread; and seated about it were the old lady Vance had seen herb-gathering, and nine black cats with green eyes, peaked caps, and nice white napkins under their chins. The Wizard placed a chair for the Prince.

"This is my wife," he said, waving his hand toward the tiny old lady. "She is a professional witch. She eats nothing but grasshoppers gathered when the moon is full."

The Wizard here lowered his voice mysteriously and bent toward Vance.

"Economical," he said, "very economical. She hardly costs me a groat a year, except for her high-heeled shoes; those come dear, but she must have them, being a professional witch, you know. Now, as to these cats, how many lives should you guess they had among them, eh?"

"I have heard," replied the Prince, "that every cat has nine lives, so I should think that there must be eighty-one lives here."

"You'd be wrong, then," said the Wizard, "for some of these cats have only one or two lives left. I keep 'em, you understand, so that when folks lose their lives, all they have to do is to come to me and I can sell them new ones from the cats."

"Do the cats like it?" asked Vance.

"They don't mind," replied the Wizard. "Anyhow, they know they've all got to come to it. When the last life is gone, a cat turns into a wind; you've heard them of a March night, yowling about the castle turrets."

"The moon," said the witch, speaking for the first time, "being probably if not otherwise added to this whose salt, magnifying."

"You are right, my dear," said the Wizard, "as you always are. The boy is better off in bed."

Upon this the Wizard left the table and led Vance to a neat little bed-chamber, where he bade him good-night. The Prince, having opened his box to give his family some air, lay down and enjoyed the first night of slumber in a bed which he had known since leaving the palace.

The next morning, after breakfasting with the Wizard, the witch, and the cats, the Prince was called into the garden and given a spade.

"Just dig awhile, as we talk," said the Wizard, seating himself, "and see if you can find any Greek roots. My wife wants some for a philter she is making."

"Tintypes," observed the witch, "catnip promulgating canticles concerning emoluments, producing."

Vance stared; but the Wizard, who was evidently accustomed to this odd sort of talk, answered quietly:

"You are right, as usual, my dear. He must be very careful not to cut them in two with his spade."

The Prince took the spade and began to dig, though not very hopefully. The truth was, he had never been at all successful in finding Greek roots himself; and besides he was longing to ask the Wizard for the charm which should restore his family. However, he dug away bravely and said nothing till the Wizard spoke to him.

"I suppose," said the Wizard, at length, "that, as to your family, you know the rule for simple reduction, don't you?"

"Yes," said the Prince, doubtfully, "I do if that page wasn't torn out of my book. However, I could learn it."

"Learn it, then," said the Wizard; "and when you have learned it, use it."

"But, if you please," ventured the Prince, humbly, "they are already reduced to the lowest terms. I don't wish to reduce them any more."

"All right, then," replied the Wizard, crossly; for the truth was, that, having a variety of affairs on his mind that day, he had forgotten that Vance's Court were pygmies, and was thinking they were giants, and a wizard never likes to find himself mistaken. "All right, then; don't reduce them. I'm sure I don't care what you do."

"Oh, don't say that!" begged the Prince, with tears in his eyes. "Please don't act as if you didn't care! Oh, your Wizardship, I've come so far to find you, and I've met such unpleasant people, and such horrible things have happened to me on the way, pray do not refuse to help me now that I have found you at last!"

"Well, then," returned the Wizard, "be polite, and do as I tell you. Do you find any roots, by the by?"

"Not one," said the Prince, leaning on his spade in despair.

"That's bad," said the Wizard. "I would sell the charm to you for one Greek root."

"Oh," cried the Prince, "my tutor has some, I know. His head used to be full of them; and unless they have grown so small that he has lost them, I'll be bound he has them still."

Upon this the Prince hastened to open his box, and, to his great delight, succeeded in obtaining from his tutor several Greek roots which, though small, were of good shape and in fair condition. These being given to the Wizard, and by him handed to the witch, the Prince waited eagerly for the charm to be told him.

But the Wizard had apparently no mind to speak. He whistled a few moments, and then, drawing a string from his pocket, began to make a cat's-cradle over his long crushed-strawberry fingers.

"I've sent a message by telegraph to the court cat," he announced. "Go through that white gateway, and you'll come to the high-road. It is the southern boundary of Jolliland. Your way is straight. By sunset you will be at the castle. The cat knows all."

XVIII

The Prince thanked the Wizard, though not very warmly: for, to tell the truth, he did not much believe that the Wizard had sent a message to the cat; and even if he had, Vance had in times past so hectored and tormented that poor animal that he felt some delicacy in asking a favor from her now. However, he kept on in the direction pointed out, passed through the white gate, and started forth merrily enough along the high-road. He was disturbed, indeed, by some fears of the wicked General Bopi; but he had, in spite of himself, some faith in the Crushed Strawberry Wizard, and he meant to be very cautious in approaching the palace.

By sundown, as the Wizard had promised, the young Prince found his long journey ended, and beheld at last the dear old home where he was born and had always lived till his own misdoings sent him forth. How beautiful it looked to the worn and footsore Prince, with its velvety terraces, its clear blue lake, marble statues, and crystal fountains, lovely flowers, waving ferns, and shady trees, and, above all, the great golden palace itself, its turrets flashing and glittering in the rays of the setting sun! The Prince could have wept for very joy.

Everything about the palace seemed wonderfully still. The white swans slept upon the lake, and the peacocks stood like jewelled images upon the terrace.

Peeping about cautiously for any signs of the wicked General, the Prince made his way softly through the shrubbery till he was very near the front entrance of the palace. Still no signs of the pretended king. The court cat, sleeker than in the days when Vance made her life a burden, sat alone on the upper step, placidly washing herself.

"You may as well come out from behind that almond-tree," she said, "for I see you plainly enough."

At this the Prince came out, still cautiously looking about him, and set his box down upon the steps.

"Dear cat," he said politely, "how do you do?"

"Humph!" replied Tabby, rather unpleasantly. "'Dear cat!' How touching!"

"I've been gone a long time," ventured the Prince.

"That may be," returned the cat; "the days have passed swiftly enough with us here. We have not grown thin in your absence."

"That is true," the Prince assented rather shamefacedly, and he hastened to change the subject. "Where is everybody?"

"Beheaded," replied the cat, briefly; "that is, all but the King."

"Do you mean General Bopi?" asked the Prince. "You know I have the real King here in my box."

"Don't quibble!" retorted the cat, sharply. "A king is known by his deeds. If you have seen the way he's been beheading people right and left, I think you'd call him something more than a general. What few he has left alive have fled from the palace and are hiding in the woods."

"And where is the Gen – King himself?" asked Vance, uneasily.

"Oh!" replied the cat, carelessly, "he's 'round."

"'Round where?" asked Vance.

"'Round here," the cat replied.

"I don't see him," said the Prince, with a start, as he looked about him on all sides.

"No?" said the cat. "That's because you can't see through me."

"How very strangely you talk, cat!" exclaimed Vance. "I don't know what you mean."

"Well," returned the cat, "you know those funny bonbons?"

"Yes," murmured the Prince, hanging his head a bit and blushing.

"One rolled under the sofa," the cat observed thoughtfully.

"Yes," said Vance, "I remember that one was dropped and I couldn't find it."

"After the telegram reached me from the Crushed Strawberry Wizard," remarked the cat, "I rolled the bonbon out into the middle of the floor. It was a pretty pink bonbon, and the King, coming into the room, saw it and gobbled it up."

"Well," exclaimed the Prince, breathlessly, "what then?"

The cat put out her tongue and licked her chops.

"He was very tender," she said.

"You ate him?" he asked breathlessly.

The cat placidly nodded her head, her whiskers twitching with the remembrance of her feast.

"Then," cried Prince Vance, joyously, "my father is King again, or will be when he is made big enough. You say you had a telegram from the Crushed Strawberry Wizard. Tell me, do tell me, dear cat, what it said."

"I can't till midnight," said the cat, "or all will be spoiled, and the charm won't work."

XIX

Before he left home the Prince would have stamped about and made a great uproar at being obliged to wait even a minute for anything he wanted; but of late he had learned, among other lessons, the lesson of patience; so he neither stormed nor cried, but entering the palace seated himself where he could see the great hall-clock and watch for midnight.

He was so weary, however, that he could not keep his eyes open, and presently he was as sound asleep as a dormouse. At length the cat touched him on the shoulder, her claws pricking him so that he sprang up in a hurry.

"Wake up!" said the cat; "the clock will strike twelve in seven minutes."

"Why, have I been asleep?" asked the Prince, rubbing his eyes.

"It looks like it," replied the cat. "Why did you leave the Court shut up in the box?"

"To tell the truth," the Prince confessed, "I was afraid they might be running about the floor in the dark and – something might eat them by mistake."

"Well," the cat answered, with a look as near a blush as a cat can come to such a thing, "you may be right. One never can tell what may happen. It is now almost on the stroke of twelve, and we must make haste. Run out to the terrace and see if the peahen has laid an egg. If she has, bring it in here to me; and be very quick!"

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the Prince hastened to do as he was bid. He found an egg, indeed, and rushing back to the palace reached the hall just as the clock sounded the first stroke of twelve.

"Break it exactly across the middle, and do it with three blows," the cat commanded.

The Prince obeyed, and from the shattered fragments of the shell, just as the last stroke of twelve ceased, out stepped the Fairy Copetta, as sharp, fresh, and brisk from top to toe as if she had just been made, and not in the least as if she had found her quarters in the peahen's egg either close or confining. She shook out her petticoat with a brisk little flirt, hopped lightly down from the table, and hit the Prince a tap on the head with her cane.

"Well," she said sharply, "how about the Blue Wizard? Do you like him as well as you thought you should?"

"I don't know," stammered the poor Prince, decidedly taken aback by his godmother's sudden appearance. "Did I say I liked him? I had forgotten – I mean I don't like him at all, if you please, Godmother."