Bill the Minder/The Musician
THE MUSICIAN
SOMETIMES now the old King showed signs of weariness, and Bill bethought him that a little music occasionally might soothe his nerves. So in the very next town they came to he engaged the only musician in the place, and very willing he was too to come along.
He played very wonderful music on his old concertina, often assisted with his voice, and one evening, after a very beautiful performance, the talented creature related the following story to his enchanted hearers:—
'Right glad have I been, good fellows all, to join you in this your noble enterprise to right our stout old brother of Troy here, and in good time I trust that my great deeds shall prove my sincerity. But, in the meantime, as supper hour draws on apace, and the frizzling cutlets do scent the evening air, a little story should not be amiss to distract your anxious minds, and thus to check the impatience of your appetite.
'Know then, my jovial birds, my cunning blades, that I am the eldest son of that Prince of Polynesia who united the scattered kingdoms of this unwieldy archipelago into one vast empire, over which he ruled with even-handed justice and some common-sense until his death. Ah! lads, if all had their rights I should at the present moment be seated on the soft cushions of my father's throne, and maybe more able to be of help to you than I am now; but you must take the will for the deed.
'My word! what a plump and healthy child was I, and withal as jolly and as hearty as the day was long. Moreover, was not I the pride of the empire and the envy of all the other kings and princes who had ever seen or heard of me? Alas! who could have foretold that I was thus early in life destined to have a real good taste of the troubles of this weary world, and, though surrounded by every care and attention and the object of the greatest affection that ever bubbled in the human heart, shortly to become the victim of the meanest spite.
'But to proceed with the yarn—neither care nor expense was spared in my upbringing, to which possibly more thought was devoted than even to the education of our very well-educated and trustworthy friend, the buxom Sicilian char-woman. At all events, the most certificated nurses procurable were continually being engaged, but apparently only to be dismissed again, for, almost perfect as most of them were, I can assure you that, in the course of a very little time they were certain, of course, to reveal (as was only natural) some slight weakness, and I ask you, good comrades all, which of us is without 'em? This overcarefulness on the part of my good parents was to be the cause of the disaster that was soon entirely to change the trend of my life.
'It came about in this way. One of the discharged nurses, indignant at what, with some show of reason, she considered an injustice to herself (she had been dismissed for curling my hair only a little to the right instead of quite to the right), resolved to revenge herself on her late master and mistress, in such a manner as should be most likely to leave them wretched for the remainder of their lives. Knowing the over-extravagance of their affection for me, she cruelly determined to strike them in this, their weakest spot. One dark night, after cleverly evading the ever-wakeful guards, she crept into my father's palace. Stealing up the main staircase without attracting observation, she arrived at the now empty throne-room, which she stealthily traversed, keeping all the while close to the wall. She then passed through the little door at the left of the grand throne and found herself in the billiard-room. She had not, however, taken two steps therein when a fearful panic seized her, for what should she behold but the stout form of my rare old dad the emperor leaning over the table, apparently in the act of making a brilliant stroke. A few seconds' consideration, however, served to convince the vengeful creature that he was fast asleep. Gnashing her teeth at the old gentleman, she hurried across the room and entered the library, in which my good mother was seated, reading. But so absorbed was the good lady in her book that she took no notice whatever of the agile intruder, as she entered by one door and swiftly left by the other. She now successively passed through the state ball-room, the music-room, the third best drawing-room, the second best ball-room, and the state bed-room, and mounting the back stairs, came to the suite of rooms occupied by the nurses, and eventually reached the nurses' dining-hall, into which my nursery led, without having excited any one's observation.
'Opening my door very quietly, she peeped in. All was dark inside except for the glimmer of a night-light which shone on the frilling of my cradle and on the form of the nurse then in office, who had fallen asleep over her supper of stewed apples. Creeping in quietly, the evil-minded woman lifted my sleeping form from the cradle, so gently that she did not awaken me, and, holding me closely to her, once more successfully passed through all the apartments she had already traversed, without arousing any suspicion, and at length found herself again in the open air.
'Without losing a moment, she now made off to the woods, and after wandering in these for some time, she met an old witch with whom, no doubt, she had an appointment. Seated on the grass, the two women haggled and haggled, and at last the treacherous nurse sold me to the witch for three cocoanuts, and then went on her way and out of my life for ever.
'Now it happened that the old witch lived in the hollow trunk of a tree with her foster son, a tiny gnome named Orpheus, as quaint a little object as ever I set eyes on, who played incessantly and most beautifully on an old concertina, the very one, in fact, which I now carry with me. The little fellow had been found some years before by the old witch wandering near the ruins of an old temple in the very middle of the wood. To whom he belonged, and whence he had come, no one knew,—not even he himself, perhaps. However, the old girl adopted him, and now nothing could exceed the motherly affection with which she regarded this dry and shrivelled-up little chap,—unless, indeed, it was the ardour with which the grateful gnome returned it. In fact, I learned some time afterwards that the old witch had purchased me solely that I might be a companion for this rum little person.
SHE NOW MADE OFF TO THE WOODS
HE WOULD CLIMB TO THE TOPMOST BRANCHES
repetitions, and, when perfected in some melody, who shall describe the unaffected joy with which he would come down and play it for my delight? How often in the moonlight (I lying on the grass at his side) would he play over and over again to me some melancholy air, while our foster-mother, mayhap, would be sweeping the dead leaves from our abode, and preparing it for our night's repose.
'Not I alone was gratified and enchanted by his dulcet tones, for all the creatures of the woodland drew near and listened as night gradually covered the sky, and he played through his evening pieces.
'Elephants hovered around in the shadows of the trees, and sighed great slobbering sighs. Bullfinches, sparrows, eagles, flamingoes, wild geese, peacocks, turkeys, cranes, pelicans, and every manner of bird, thronged the branches of the trees, and, with their heads and beaks sunk almost into their feathers, And played it for my delight
opened and closed their eyes in their rapturous surprise. The lions and tigers sprawled about, wishing, in pure shame at their habitual monstrous cruelties, that they had been vegetarians from the very beginning: such power had the music of Orpheus. Even the mad-headed monkeys and apes, sitting in rows amongst the trees, thought, Good heavens! what fools they were! and, blushing at their childish tricks, wondered if it yet were possible to reform and take a serious view of life. The old snake, quite overcome and enthralled by the delicious strains, opened wide his jaws, and allowed the little missel-thrush to nestle therein, and, thus protected from the night-air, to listen to the music in comfort. However, no lasting reformation was ever effected in their untamed natures, for no sooner had the music ceased than each scurried away, once again to resume his depredations and savage ways.
'It happened one evening that the gnome surpassed himself by his rendering of some enchanting melodies, and every one was quite enthralled and rendered almost helpless. The birds sank their heads and beaks lower and lower into their feathers, as the music proceeded, until they were no longer visible. The lions and tigers rolled on their backs in the grass, in an agony of despair at their own unreformable lives: the elephants turned quite white, and trembled so violently that they could hardly support their own huge bulks and leant against one another to prevent themselves coming down with a crash; such a great lump had risen in the throat of the giraffe as quite distorted his otherwise graceful neck; while the monkeys gibbered and blubbered tearfully to themselves, and the old rascal of a snake slipped right off into a trance.
'At last the music ceased, and the little musician left me while he went in to hang up his musical instrument in safety. Meanwhile, in spite of the state to which they had been elevated, the absurd creatures had all scurried off, as usual, with no other thought in their savage minds than to get each his own supper at any cost. The old snake, however, did not recover as quickly as the others, and when at length he awakened from his trance, he could see that all the others had vanished, and that I was lying on the grass, quite unprotected, the gnome not having, as yet, returned to my side. "Ha, ha!" said he to himself, his savage nature having returned in all its force, "what a slice of luck! By gum! I never see such a beauty. Won't the youngsters be just delighted!" He rapidly slithered in my direction and, quickly tying the end of his long form securely round me, slithered away again, carrying me through the long grass at a bewildering speed.
'After travelling in this rough fashion for some time, we at length came to a clearing in the heart of the wood, in which stood all that remained of the ancient temple, and amongst its fallen columns and walls, overgrown as they were with wild flowers and tall grasses, the old snake had made his home, where he lived in comfort with his wife and a large brood of pranksome snakelets.
'We were greeted by the youngsters with every mark of joy and surprise. "How good of you, Henry," cried the mother, "and what a really fine specimen! Shall we have him to-night, or keep him for next Tuesday, my birthday you know, dear?" After a little talk it was decided that I should be held over until the next Tuesday, and in the meantime I was placed in the larder, and given plenty of odd scraps to eat, no doubt to keep me plump and in good condition.
'Tuesday came round in due course and, in order to celebrate the day in a manner suitable to the greatness of the occasion, the old snake invited all his neighbours. When I was brought out of the larder, on a large dish, roars of delight rose to the sky from the throats of the assembled guests, all seated round on the fallen stones of the ruined temple.
'The old lion was there, smacking his lips in anticipation of a nice cut, and the tiger's mouth was visibly watering at the prospect of such a feast: while, as for the little snakelets, they kept up quite a clamour in their impatience to get at me. The monkeys, of course, contributed their share to the general uproar, though they seemed more inclined to fasten their eyes on the filberts and almonds with which I was garnished. The eagles took the whole thing very seriously and, flapping their great wings, screeched to the sky in their eagerness to begin; and all the other guests, the giraffes, the zebras, the hippos, the storks, the flamingoes, the wild cats, the pelicans, the wild geese, the peacocks, the turkeys, and every thinkable animal contributing to the general noise, there was such an awful din that the snake could only obtain silence by using the thin end of his long body as a flail on the drum-like sides of the elephant. He then made a few remarks on the importance of the occasion, and referred to his wife in quite a graceful way, for a snake; and, continuing, asked one of the guests to volunteer to carve. The stork, having a very convenient beak for the purpose, stood up and offered his services, which were gratefully accepted.
'I was now placed on the grass directly in front of the carver, who was about to skewer me with his long and sharp beak, when there came to our ears from far away amongst the trees that surrounded us on every side, the sweet harmonies of that lovely song "The Pond where Herbert Drownded," played with the greatest sympathy on the concertina. At once the stork turned its head in the direction whence the sound proceeded, and as it gradually drew nearer and nearer I became more and more convinced that such music could only be produced by my friend and foster-brother.
'All the creatures in varying degrees were affected; the snake and his wife coiled themselves on the grass and gasped in rapture; the stork and all the birds closed their eyes, and their heads sank lower and lower
SWEEPING THE DEAD LEAVES
into their fluffy bodies, until like balls of feathers they rolled over and lay trembling in the grass.
'The lion and tiger were so overcome that they leant their old heads on their paws and sobbed aloud, while the monkeys grew fidgety and quite self-conscious at first, and then abandoned themselves to the melancholy aroused by the music.
'The gnome, whom I afterwards learnt had been wandering about the wood playing mournful airs on his concertina ever since he had missed me, now drew near, and finishing "The Pond where Herbert Drownded" proceeded with "Poor Molly Dawson" and other tunes of an equally affecting nature. On seeing that all were sufficiently bowled over, he struck up with "Oh, Jack, he was a Bright Spark," and so lively and brisk was the measure that up they all jumped and danced and danced with the greatest spirit.
'The strangest figure of all was cut by the old snake who pirouetted on the end of his tail at the greatest speed, in which weird performance he was soon joined by his wife. The eagle extended his wings and waltzed with the elephant; the lion and tiger spun round, holding each other by the paw, so quickly that it was almost impossible to see them; the old turtle rolled over on the back of its shell and span like a teetotum, with the silly monkeys linking hands and in one wide ring skipping around it; in fact, all got up and jumped and lumped and sprawled about in the most ridiculous fashion until they were quite out of breath. Nevertheless, Orpheus would not let them rest, but marched off playing the most exciting music, and all the infatuated creatures, quite forgetful of their banquet, followed him through the wood. Strange enough, in all conscience, was this, but how much stranger by far was it when the very stones of the ruin leapt up, and rolling over and over, also followed in this odd procession as it tramped and crashed through the trees.
'From where I was seated on the dish I could hear the sounds of the music gradually fading away, as the musician led the noisy crew further and further
WITH NO OTHER WEALTH THAN MY CONCERTINA
off; the crash of the falling branches and the crackle of the breaking underwood died down in the distance and I knew that I was saved.
'The little gnome led the bewitched creatures such a dance through the wood that one by one they fell down in a state of collapse, and when the last was quite overcome, the faithful fellow returned to the temple and carried me home.
'Never again did they leave me alone for a single second until I was able to take care of myself, and I spent the years of my boyhood in great happiness with these two simple and kindly souls. Brother Orpheus took no end of pains in teaching me to play the concertina and, eager to learn, I soon became proficient. But, dear lads, clever as you know me to be, never could I even approach the skill of my good and patient master.
'In the course of time the old witch had to die, and the grief of her little foster son was so great at his loss that, try as I would, I could not in any way lighten it. One day soon after I missed the little man, and he never returned again. All that he left behind him for me to remember him by was his old concertina.
'I waited by the tree for many a long day, still thinking that he would return, until I was compelled at last to abandon all hope of ever seeing him again. I wandered out into the world with no other wealth than my concertina, but how often since have I had to bless the memory of my little friend who thus endowed me with the means of subsistence, and, at the same time, with a protection against all manner of evil.'
