A POT-BOILER.
The engine did not appear to be more damaged than the driver by the explosion, and on looking at it, the boys were surprised to see that its boiler was shaped like a porridge-pot, with an immense porridge-stick stirring it by steam. There was a tender behind, which kept the engine up; for, as the driver said, in answer to one of the boys, “We keeps ’im coaled to keep ’im ot. My hengine begins to ’eat up when ’ee’s swallered two tons. In fact it’s with this coal ’ere that ’is bile is riz.”[2]
“And what have you got in the pot?” asked Ranulf.
JUGGED ’ARE.
The driver, who had just taken another pull at the oil-can, so long and full that the fireman had to beg him to leave some for the wheels, replied, “Don’t ye ax souperfluous questions.” But the fireman, picking up a big spoon like a warming-pan, plunged it into the pot, and held it down to Ranulf, saying, “There, you’ll find that ’ere souperfine stuff.”
“It ain’t ’are soup at all,” said the driver; “what are yer talkin’ about?”
“That’s just as well,” said Norval, “because one can’t live on air, of course.”
“I dunno that,” said the driver; “jugged ’are’s wery good stuff for dinner.”
“Oh, but,” said Jaques, gravely, “if we got nothing but a jug of air for dinner we would be just full of wind.”
He thought to himself, just as he said this, that perhaps this was the right thing for a driver of apuff-puff, as they called railway-engines in the nursery, but he did not like to say so.
TICKETS FOR SOUP.
After Ranulf had tasted the soup, Norval and Jaques had some, just as the porter came along the train calling out, “All tickets for soup ready, please; tickets reade-e-e-e. All tickets for soup ready, please.”
“But we haven’t got any tickets,” said Ranulf.
“Then,” said the porter, “where’s your fare?”
“Well, we had fairy fare a little ago.”
“But I mean railway fare,” said the porter.
“Oh,” said Norval, “we’ve just had it too, and first-class fare it was; at least it was fair fare.”
“All right,” said the porter; “but any boy who travels without his fare, or his ticket for soup, will be breeched for breach of the company’s pie-laws, remember that.”
STOUT PORTER.
He tried to look very fierce as he said this; but as his body looked like a barrel, with three big X’s upon it, and his head was a large pewter-pot, the boys could not help laughing, whichNorval excused by saying, “I beg your pardon, but you do look so dumpy.”
“In coorse I does,” said he. “Porters no good that bean’t stout, you know.”
“Oh, but you’re so stout!” said Jaques.
“No, I ain’t So’s stout,” said he; “I’m Dublin stout.”
TURKEY CHANGING.
“If you’re doubling stout,” said Norval, “that’s as stout as can be, isn’t it?”
“No, it ain’t. I’m more than that already. Don’t you know treble X when you see him?”
“Oh yes, I know now,” said Jaques. “I’ve heard papa say that X is an unknown quantity; and you’re three times him, are you?”
FOWL LANGUAGE.
The porter was off by this time at the door of a carriage, looking at tickets, so he gave no answer; and the boys’ attention was called off by the passengers that were changing for Crowtown, Cheepcackle, Gobbleboro’, and Quackland coming along the platform to cross the line. First came Sir T. Urkey, of Gobbleboro’ Hall, in a white hat, a red handkerchief sticking out from below it, a brown coat, and tight leggings. Next followed Mr Shanty Cleary, his wife Henny, and half-a-dozen little cheeps of the old block following. Mr Shanty Cleary’s head presented a most combical appearance, and all the young Clearys of the male gender took after their father in this respect. Last came M. U. S.Covy Drayck, Esq., the tails of whose coat curled up in a very funny way, and who carried his head very high, as if the whole country belonged to him, although he was rather bandy-legged and very flat-footed. He seemed altogether inclined to play the swell; and as they passed the boys, bobbed his head to one of the Miss Clearys, and said, “Oh you little duck!”
“Duck yourself,” said Mrs Cleary, with a most indignant sweep of her head; “my daughter’s no duck, Mr Imperence.” Mr Shanty Cleary himself stepped forward, with his head as high as he could; and looking as cocky as possible, was just opening his mouth to say something severe, when Sir T. Urkey turned back and said, “What’s the matter?”
“He’s giving my chick cheek,” said old Cleary.
“He’s trying to crow over me,” said Mr Covy Drayck.
“Come, Drayck, don’t be a goose,” said Sir T., “and behave yourself. You’re no chicken now, you know.”
IMPUDENT QUACKERY.
“Who asked you to interfere?” said the other, throwing back his neck as far as it would go, and waddling up to Sir T. in a most defiant manner.
Sir T. got purple in the face, and swelled out under his brown coat with rage, his red handkerchief slipping loose, and a long end of it hanging over his nose, nearly to his waist. He rushed at Mr Drayck, with his coat-flaps trailing on the ground, and tried to speak, but nothing came out except a gub-gubba-gubble-gubble-gubble. Mrs Cleary, seeing there would be a fight, screamed out, “Police! police!” as loud as she could. The tall policeman gave a horrible wink, showing the white of his eye, at which signal two other constables seized the ill-behaved Mr Drayck by the neck, and began to drag him to the engine.
POTTED.
“What do you mean, you rascals?” said Mr Drayck.
“Means to pot you for breach of the pie-laws.”
“Where’s your warrant?” said Mr Drayck.
“Our pots is all Warrens,” said a constable, as they chucked him in.
“There,” said he, “you can commit breach of the peas in there if you like; they won’t split on you, for they’re all split already.”
“Take your seats,” shouted the guard (who had a whistle instead of a nose, and a big turnip fastened to his belt to tell the time by), as he ran up to the boys, “and mind you don’t get in right side first.”
“Why?” said Jaques.
“Because if you gits in right side afore, you’re sure to be left behind.”
The boys went along the platform to look for a carriage. The first they came to had a crown of a hat nailed on its side, and below in large letters—
EXHASPIRATING.
’EREV.R.AGAIN.
Looking in they saw a king in a long robe, standing before a number of square holes (over each of which there was a letter of the alphabet), with an armful of letters, which he was cramming into the different holes. The H’s seemed to be very troublesome, for they were constantly getting dropped, and those that he managed to force into their place the boys saw slyly slipping out, and gliding into the holes of the vowels, so that, struggle as he might, he could not get them right. Once he caught an H with a corner of an I, just as it was trying to get in beside the O’s.
“Oh ho!” said he, “is that what you’re after?” seizing him firmly. But the H was determined, if he could not be where he ought not, that he would be dropped; and as the king held on tightly to him, over they both rolled together, the king tripping on his long robes, and coming down in a most undignified position. The H’sthat were on the ground could do nothing, but those that had got in beside the vowels shouted with laughter.
A DROP SCENE.
“Ha, ha, ha!” came from A pigeon-hole.
“Hee, hee, hee!” from E.
“Ho, ho, ho!” from O.
Those that had got in beside the I’s laughed in a Hi key. The H’s that were in the U pigeon-hole alone remained silent, as they could only have called out Heu, which, as it means alas! they were not in the Humour to use.
The king made no attempt to rise, and looked as if he was much the worse of the drop he had had, and in great need of a Pick-me-up; so Norval put his foot on the step to get in and help him, but the king, observing his intention, waved his hand and said majestically—
“Royal Male.NO ADMITTANCE.”
It was evident, however, that he was in great distress, for he called out “Oh!” several times,only the boys could not understand why he put other letters before it, so that it sounded like, “g. p. oh! g. p. oh! g. p. oh!”
“Get out of the way,” said a voice behind them; and a gorgeous officer, but who, strangely enough, wore canvas bags, and the orders on whose breast were money-orders, stepped in beside the Royal Male.
“Who’s that?” asked Jaques.
WIFE-BEATING.
“That’s General Pustoffus; we calls him G. P. O. for short; it’s him as looks after the Royal Male. He’s a queer sorter chap he is, the Royal Male. He takes up ’is ’ole time a pullin’ letters out of bags, and shoving ’em into ’oles; and when’s he’s tired o’ that, he takes them out of ’oles and shoves ’em into bags. And, besides that, there’s never a letter he gets that he doesn’t give the Queen’s ’ead a bang.”
“What a shame!” said Ranulf.
“Ay, it be a shame,” said the guard. “If you or me was to lick our wife we’d get six months; but this ’ere Royal Male, he doesn’t mind ’er ’eadgettin’ licked and stuck fast in a corner, and ’ee’s always a stamping on it, and making her face all black. And I’m sure a patienter lady never was, for though her ’ead’s being bumped all day, she never says a word. He don’t hold the Queen’s ’ead worth more nor a penny to a hounce, he don’t. But come on, or the train will be hoff.”
PUFFY PIGGY.
The next was the smoking-carriage, and the smoke was pushing out so hard at the door, that the moment the handle was turned it flew open, so that it took the united efforts of the guard and porter to get it shut again, the cloud coming out as thick as gutta percha. Norval looked through the window, and saw a pig puffing away at an enormous cigar.
“What a bore! It’s no use trying to go in there,” said he.
“I thought papa said smoking was a bad habit,” said Ranulf.
“Well,” said the porter, “ain’t ’ee trying to cure hisself?”
SAMPLING.
“I’d ha’ thought,” said the guard, “that amount of smoking would ha’ cured him already.”
The pig, hearing the talk, opened the window and handed out a slice of himself on a plate, saying, as he did so, “There, you see yourselves I am not half cured yet, so don’t bother me any more. What can’t be cured must be endured.” He gave sucha puff of smoke as he said this, that Ranulf sneezed a loud “H-a-a-a-m.”
A FALSE START.
“No, I am not ham,” said the pig.
“Bacon, then,” said Jaques.
“So I do mean to bake on,” said the pig, “in the smoke here, and when I am ham I’ll let you know; so don’t take it for grunted till I tell you.”
He shut the window again.
“Why can’t he talk correct, and say ‘When I ham ’am’?” said the guard, as, the pig closed the window.
The next carriage was empty; and no wonder—for it was the sleeping-carriage, and was snoring so loud that even the wooden sleepers below wouldn’t stay quiet, and were anything but chary of their raillery. When Jaques looked in it only spoke in its sleep, and said, “Are we far from Wakefield yet?”
“Very far, I should think,” replied Jaques.
They all laughed at this; and unfortunately the guard, in laughing, let his whistle-nose go off.
STEAD IS THE CURE.
This made the driver start the train; just as the pig opened the window of the smoking-carriage again, and handed out another slice, saying, “A rasher individual than this pig would have made his eggsit as a cure at once, but you see I’m no’[3]a ham yet; steady’s the word for a perfect cure.”
This long speech gave time for a tremendous cloud of smoke to escape, so that the train got out of the station under cover of it, before the guard or the porter knew that it was off.
“’Ere’s a go!” said the porter.
“It’s more like there’s a go,” replied Norval.
“Yes, there’s a go, and here’s a stay,” said the guard. “We must get on somehow. What shall we do?”
“Ax old Sammy Fore, ’ee’s your man,” said the porter, pointing to the signal policeman.
“Vy, vot could ’ee do?”
“’Ee? ’ee’s the very man for movin’ people on,yer knows; ’ee’l be hable to run yer in to the train yet.”
POLICEMAN XPRESS.
They all hurried across to the policeman, and begged him to take them on.
“Do you see anything green in my eye?” said he.
“Sometimes,” said Jaques, “when you wink.”
“Then you won’t this time,” said he. “Don’t you know that I’m a fixed signal? If I were to leave here, I shouldn’t be found when I was wanted.”
“Just like other policemen,” said the guard, “so that wouldn’t make no difference. Come, don’t be a fool; take us on.”
“Couldn’t we go by special train?” said Norval, who was by way of being very knowing about railways.
“Special train be blowed!” said the guard; “let’s go by special constable. We’ll soon hovertake the train by p’liceman Xpress.”
“No, you shan’t,” said the policeman; “I sticks to my beat.”
COOKS FOLLOWERS.
“If you sticks so hard, you’ll grow to the spot,” said the guard, sulkily.
“Then I’ll be a beetroot,” said the policeman.
“So you are, with your red and green.”
The policeman seemed determined not to help them, when the guard at last said, in desperation, “If anything happens to that ’ere train, it’ll be a pretty kettle of fish, for there’s a Cooke’s excursion in it.”
“Cooks and fish!” shouted the policeman; “why didn’t you say so before? If there’s cooks in the train, I’m your man. Come on; cooks without followers is no good; let’s after ’em at once.”
So saying, he whipped up Jaques and Ranulf under one arm, and Norval under the other, and bidding the guard hold on by his coat-tails, started off after the train. His long legs went over the ground at a tremendous pace, and as they flew by, the people in the houses rushed out to behold the sight of a policeman running, for they are generally slow enough, as everybodyknows. One old ploughman scratched his head as they sped past, and muttered, “A’ve offen ’eard as how p’licemen’s never in an ’urry, but that un goes like an ’urricane, he do.”
“Yes,” said another old man, “police rates are as slow as they’re heavy generally.”
VAN DRIVING.
When they had gone several miles in as many seconds, the policeman caught sight of the train, and rushed on faster than ever. But suddenly he gave a terrible yell of pain; and no wonder—for he had bumped his shin against a bridge crossing the line, which he had not noticed, as he was watching the train. He staggered, blundered on a few strides of 300 yards each, and at last fell heavily forward, and his head went bang through the van of the train, which had come to a standstill, driving it all the way to the next station, which was about half a mile off. When the policeman fell, the little fellows ran great risk of coming to smash; but at the back of the train there happened to be two obliging buffers, who, as the shock of the fall made the policeman’sarms fly up, caught the boys, and with the aid of one or two back springs, brought them safely to the ground.
“Thou’st roon thyself in this time, lad,” said the guard; “it be looky for oi that I warn’t in the van, or there ’ud a been two brakes in it instead of one.”
MOVE ON, THERE!
The policeman vouchsafed no reply, but gathered himself up with a most dignified air. One of his red eyes looked rather the worse for his tumble; but being a glass one, it did not matter much, as it could be easily replaced. He stuck his arms straight out once more, and said, majestically, “Move on, there!”
The guard being anxious to get to the train, needed no further urging, but set off with the boys for the station. After a little, he got so out of breath that his nose was beginning to whistle again, and he had to hold it for the rest of the way, lest it should cause the train to start off without them once more.
SLOW-PACED PROCEEDINGS.
The boys, going forward to get into a carriage,found the people all jammed up by large pieces of pasteboard, like the advertising placards carried by two men in the streets, which turned out to be tickets. They could not be got out at the doors without a great deal of bending and squeezing and struggling, which tore and broke them; and as the officials insisted on carefully pasting up each ticket as it was got out, the collecting promised to be a very long affair.
“Why are the tickets so big?” said Jaques to the station-master, who had used up a paste-pot as large as a drum. They had a paste-pump in the station that was kept constantly going, like a battery.
“Well, you see, my little man,” said he, “people were always losing the small tickets, so we thought they would take care of big ones; and we have not had any mistakes since.”
“But doesn’t it take a long time?” said Norval.
“Well, ye-e-e-ss. We generally take about three hours and a half to get things square,—I mean the tickets, for they makes a sad hash ofthem getting them out; but then things is square when we’ve done, you see, and that’s the great point.”
CLOSE QUARTERS.
Norval, who was beginning mathematics, wondered how a point could be great, and how a square could be a point; but he did not like to trouble the station-master, as he was so busy with the tickets, which, when they were all mended and collected, made a pile that blocked up half of the station.
A number of Sillybilly people came to the station to get into the train for Blundertown. It was already so full that the boys were obliged to squeeze themselves up in corners, till Ranulf called out, “Oh, I can’t bre-e-eathe!” and Norval had to take him on his knee. When the Sillybilly people came up, the guard ran along the train, calling out, “Plenty of room! plenty of room! Every one sit on his own knee, and there’s plenty of room!”
The passengers got very angry at this, and shouted out all sorts of cross replies to the guard.
GENERAL JAM.
“There’s no need to do that,” said one.
“It’s not an easy position,” said another.
“There’s no necessity for it,” bawled a fourth.
“It’s packing us like negroes,” said a fifth.
“It’s thene plus ultraof mismanagement,” said a sixth.
Those who tried to do it always found that they got on somebody else’s knee instead of on their own, which, as it turned out, came to much the same thing, as the moment anybody rose totry to sit down on his own knee, a Sillybillier popped down on his seat.
WISIBLY SWELLIN’.
There was no need for hurry, as the train was only 22 hours and 49 minutes behind time; so, after everybody had with great difficulty got in, and they were packed so tight that the sides of the carriages were bulging out, the station-bell rang for 19 minutes, to show that the train was going to start. Then the guard unscrewed his whistle-nose, wiped it carefully with his pocket-handkerchief, and screwed it on again. It so happened that he fastened it with the wrong end out; and when he blew, he only whistled into himself, so that the driver could not hear; and he had to get the station-master to give him a slap on the back with one of the big tickets, to make the whistling that had stuck in him come out. The train then started, but as there was a bridge just beyond the station, and the carriages were so swelled, it had to be stopped again till the porters had roped the carriages like trunks, to press the sides in and let them pass.
FREE AND EASY.
The process made things so tight, that several persons called out, “Oh dear!” At this the porters only laughed, and said, “Dear? it’s the cheapest thing you get in twenty-four hours—you get it for nothing.”
The train having at last got fairly started, a big fat man, with a jolly broad face, who seemed to get happier and happier the closer the squeeze became, said in a wheezy voice—
“I move that we have a Free-and-Easy.”
“Move! that’s a good one,” said a voice from a corner. “Proposing to move is all very well, but how will you get it done in a squash like this?”
“Well,” said the jolly man, “there’s nothing like trying.”
“No; except trying circumstances, like ours just now.”
“We must have a chairman,” said the jolly gentleman.
“Here’s what you want,” said Norval; “I saw him getting in.”
PERE LA CHAISE.
Everybody looked towards Norval, but in the crowd they could see nothing but a broad, flat, smiling face.
“Why he more than another?” cried several.
“Well, if you could see him, you would know,” answered Norval.
Instantly there was a shout—“Clear off, and let us look at him.”
Tightly as they were squeezed, they notwithstanding made a tremendous push back from the man beside Norval, till the ropes round the carriage creaked again. Sure enough, there he was—a chair beyond all doubt, looking as inviting as possible.
“He’s just what we want for a Free-and-Easy,” said one, “for he’s an easy-chair!”
SUPPORTING THE CHAIR.
“Come along, be our chair, old boy,” said another.
“All right,” said he; “but remember, if I agree to act, I won’t be sat upon by anybody else; everybody must support the chair.”
“All right; we will, we will!” was heard from every side; and those next him whipped him up on their shoulders—from which elevation he grinned a great broad smile.
Everything seemed likely to go right, when a grumpy individual, whom the crush to clear the chair had flattened up against the side of the carriage, till he looked like half of himself, said in slow tones, as if he had only breath for a letter at a time—
“I b-eg-g to mo-o-ve a cou-nt-er mo-shn.” Such sighs went from him as he spoke, that it was no wonder he was much reduced in bulk. His words were received with jeers of derision on all sides.
“Counter-motion!” said one; “how can you get a movement out of shop-fixtures?”
PRESSED TO WITHDRAW.
“I wa-s a cou-nt-er-jum-per onc-ce, bu-t I a-ad-mit I’m a fi-xt-ure n-ow; bu-t th-at’s be-cau-se th-is is a pa-ack-d meet-t-ing.”
Nobody felt able to deny that the meeting was packed, so there was a dead silence. The chairman, however, with admirable tact, took up his adversary on his own ground, and said—
“We don’t want any of your pax, so just hold your peace.”
“If you don’t,” said somebody, “we’ll turn you out.”
“Th-ere w-ill be ro-om to tu-rn the-n; I w-ish yo-u wo-uld do it no-w, fo-r I fe-el tu-rn-ing di-zzy.”
“Turning dizzy! really now, you must be a clever party if you can do that,” said one.
“You had better withdraw your motion,” said the chairman, blandly; “everybody seems against you.”
“Ev-er-y-bo-dy-’s pr-ess-ing a-gai-nst me, if th-at’s wh-at y-ou mea-n.”
“Well, then, we’ll admit that you do it underpressure,” said the chairman, cheerily; “we will press you a little more if you wish, but I should think it was a case ofjam satis.”
SINGING SMALL.
“Sic, sic; I fee-l ve-ry so-so,” said the grumpy man; “go-t a s-ing-ing in my ea-rs.”
“It’s more than we have,” said the chairman; “but for you we would have had it long ago—you’ve kept all the harmony from us; but now for a song. Who’ll sing?”
Nobody seemed to like to be first, and there was silence for a minute, when, to the astonishment of everybody, himself included, Ranulf’s little voice was heard saying, “I will.”
NURSERY RHYMING.
HIP, HIP, HIP.
“Bravo, new edition of the Little Songster! sing away!”[4]
1.We are three jolly boys, you see,Hurrah! hurrah!We are three jolly boys, you see,Hurrah! hurrah!Norval and Jaques and Ranny—that’s me—As lively as so many crickets are we,And we wish you all a jolly good health, we do!And we wish you all a jolly good health, we do!2.The fairy told us to be good,Hurrah! hurrah!The fairy told us to be good,Hurrah! hurrah!To be cheery and bright, not sulky or rude—We nodded our noddles, and said we would;And we mean to try, oh, ever so hard, we do!And we mean to try, oh, ever so hard, we do!3.She said we never should tell a lie,Hurrah! hurrah!She said we never should tell a lie,Hurrah! hurrah!So we’ll rather go without pudding or pie,If it can’t be got without telling a lie,For we mean to hold on tight to truth, we do!For we mean to hold on tight to truth, we do!4.She bid us keep our temper, too,Hurrah! hurrah!She bid us keep our temper, too,Hurrah! hurrah!So we shall try to put on the screw,To keep it down whatever we do,For we mean to be jolly, whatever turns up, we do!For we mean to be jolly, whatever turns up, we do!5.In fact, we’ll follow her advice,Hurrah! hurrah!In fact, we’ll follow her advice,Hurrah! hurrah!To keep ever free from folly and vice,And to choose the ways that are noble and nice,Brave, true gentle men, whatever we say or do!Brave, true gentle men, whatever we say or do!6.Fail we must, but we’ll try again,Hurrah! hurrah!Fail we must, but we’ll try again,Hurrah! hurrah!For we know, if we work with might and mainAnd a trusting heart, we’ll not strive in vain;So we mean to hold on, true to the end, we do!So we mean to hold on, true to the end, we do!
1.We are three jolly boys, you see,Hurrah! hurrah!We are three jolly boys, you see,Hurrah! hurrah!Norval and Jaques and Ranny—that’s me—As lively as so many crickets are we,And we wish you all a jolly good health, we do!And we wish you all a jolly good health, we do!2.The fairy told us to be good,Hurrah! hurrah!The fairy told us to be good,Hurrah! hurrah!To be cheery and bright, not sulky or rude—We nodded our noddles, and said we would;And we mean to try, oh, ever so hard, we do!And we mean to try, oh, ever so hard, we do!3.She said we never should tell a lie,Hurrah! hurrah!She said we never should tell a lie,Hurrah! hurrah!So we’ll rather go without pudding or pie,If it can’t be got without telling a lie,For we mean to hold on tight to truth, we do!For we mean to hold on tight to truth, we do!4.She bid us keep our temper, too,Hurrah! hurrah!She bid us keep our temper, too,Hurrah! hurrah!So we shall try to put on the screw,To keep it down whatever we do,For we mean to be jolly, whatever turns up, we do!For we mean to be jolly, whatever turns up, we do!5.In fact, we’ll follow her advice,Hurrah! hurrah!In fact, we’ll follow her advice,Hurrah! hurrah!To keep ever free from folly and vice,And to choose the ways that are noble and nice,Brave, true gentle men, whatever we say or do!Brave, true gentle men, whatever we say or do!6.Fail we must, but we’ll try again,Hurrah! hurrah!Fail we must, but we’ll try again,Hurrah! hurrah!For we know, if we work with might and mainAnd a trusting heart, we’ll not strive in vain;So we mean to hold on, true to the end, we do!So we mean to hold on, true to the end, we do!
1.
1.
We are three jolly boys, you see,Hurrah! hurrah!We are three jolly boys, you see,Hurrah! hurrah!Norval and Jaques and Ranny—that’s me—As lively as so many crickets are we,And we wish you all a jolly good health, we do!And we wish you all a jolly good health, we do!
We are three jolly boys, you see,
Hurrah! hurrah!
We are three jolly boys, you see,
Hurrah! hurrah!
Norval and Jaques and Ranny—that’s me—
As lively as so many crickets are we,
And we wish you all a jolly good health, we do!
And we wish you all a jolly good health, we do!
2.
2.
The fairy told us to be good,Hurrah! hurrah!The fairy told us to be good,Hurrah! hurrah!To be cheery and bright, not sulky or rude—We nodded our noddles, and said we would;And we mean to try, oh, ever so hard, we do!And we mean to try, oh, ever so hard, we do!
The fairy told us to be good,
Hurrah! hurrah!
The fairy told us to be good,
Hurrah! hurrah!
To be cheery and bright, not sulky or rude—
We nodded our noddles, and said we would;
And we mean to try, oh, ever so hard, we do!
And we mean to try, oh, ever so hard, we do!
3.
3.
She said we never should tell a lie,Hurrah! hurrah!She said we never should tell a lie,Hurrah! hurrah!So we’ll rather go without pudding or pie,If it can’t be got without telling a lie,For we mean to hold on tight to truth, we do!For we mean to hold on tight to truth, we do!
She said we never should tell a lie,
Hurrah! hurrah!
She said we never should tell a lie,
Hurrah! hurrah!
So we’ll rather go without pudding or pie,
If it can’t be got without telling a lie,
For we mean to hold on tight to truth, we do!
For we mean to hold on tight to truth, we do!
4.
4.
She bid us keep our temper, too,Hurrah! hurrah!She bid us keep our temper, too,Hurrah! hurrah!So we shall try to put on the screw,To keep it down whatever we do,For we mean to be jolly, whatever turns up, we do!For we mean to be jolly, whatever turns up, we do!
She bid us keep our temper, too,
Hurrah! hurrah!
She bid us keep our temper, too,
Hurrah! hurrah!
So we shall try to put on the screw,
To keep it down whatever we do,
For we mean to be jolly, whatever turns up, we do!
For we mean to be jolly, whatever turns up, we do!
5.
5.
In fact, we’ll follow her advice,Hurrah! hurrah!In fact, we’ll follow her advice,Hurrah! hurrah!To keep ever free from folly and vice,And to choose the ways that are noble and nice,Brave, true gentle men, whatever we say or do!Brave, true gentle men, whatever we say or do!
In fact, we’ll follow her advice,
Hurrah! hurrah!
In fact, we’ll follow her advice,
Hurrah! hurrah!
To keep ever free from folly and vice,
And to choose the ways that are noble and nice,
Brave, true gentle men, whatever we say or do!
Brave, true gentle men, whatever we say or do!
6.
6.
Fail we must, but we’ll try again,Hurrah! hurrah!Fail we must, but we’ll try again,Hurrah! hurrah!For we know, if we work with might and mainAnd a trusting heart, we’ll not strive in vain;So we mean to hold on, true to the end, we do!So we mean to hold on, true to the end, we do!
Fail we must, but we’ll try again,
Hurrah! hurrah!
Fail we must, but we’ll try again,
Hurrah! hurrah!
For we know, if we work with might and main
And a trusting heart, we’ll not strive in vain;
So we mean to hold on, true to the end, we do!
So we mean to hold on, true to the end, we do!
There was great cheering, and cries, “Bravo,little un!” when Ranulf finished, and the chairman said—
COMPANY ADVICES.
“The fairy gave you very good advice, so never forget it. Beware of bad surroundings. Life’s like a railway journey—a great deal depends upon your company not being too fast, and your having a good carriage, and good couplings. If you maintain a manly upright carriage, and don’t couple yourselves by bad ties, keeping truth and modesty for your safety—chains, you’ll get on well enough; but if your life carriage gets shaky, and your connections loose, and you get bad buffers about you, you will be apt to come to grief.”
The boys listened attentively as the chairman spoke, and it is to be hoped that neither they, nor any other boys who read this, will forget what he said.
In the meantime, the people seemed not to be able to get Ranulf’s tune out of their heads, and began to find their own words to carry it on. From one corner came—
A MEDLEY.
“A spoon of wood is the thing at night,Hurrah! hurrah!A spoon of wood is the thing at night,Hurrah! hurrah!Just swallow it dry, it will clear your sight,To see an invisible green so bright!Oh! we’re all jolly tight on our way to Blundertown!Oh! we’re all jolly tight on our way to Blundertown!”
“A spoon of wood is the thing at night,Hurrah! hurrah!A spoon of wood is the thing at night,Hurrah! hurrah!Just swallow it dry, it will clear your sight,To see an invisible green so bright!Oh! we’re all jolly tight on our way to Blundertown!Oh! we’re all jolly tight on our way to Blundertown!”
“A spoon of wood is the thing at night,Hurrah! hurrah!A spoon of wood is the thing at night,Hurrah! hurrah!Just swallow it dry, it will clear your sight,To see an invisible green so bright!Oh! we’re all jolly tight on our way to Blundertown!Oh! we’re all jolly tight on our way to Blundertown!”
“A spoon of wood is the thing at night,
Hurrah! hurrah!
A spoon of wood is the thing at night,
Hurrah! hurrah!
Just swallow it dry, it will clear your sight,
To see an invisible green so bright!
Oh! we’re all jolly tight on our way to Blundertown!
Oh! we’re all jolly tight on our way to Blundertown!”
“Stuff and nonsense!” said another, and then he went off himself:—
“Spoon-meat may be good enough for thee,Hurrah! hurrah!Spoon-meat may be good enough for thee,Hurrah! hurrah!But there’s nought like a plank of a hare-soup tree,Or fresh-roasted ices to make you seeSaw your way through a milestone of brick, you see;Saw your way through a milestone of brick, you see.”
“Spoon-meat may be good enough for thee,Hurrah! hurrah!Spoon-meat may be good enough for thee,Hurrah! hurrah!But there’s nought like a plank of a hare-soup tree,Or fresh-roasted ices to make you seeSaw your way through a milestone of brick, you see;Saw your way through a milestone of brick, you see.”
“Spoon-meat may be good enough for thee,Hurrah! hurrah!Spoon-meat may be good enough for thee,Hurrah! hurrah!But there’s nought like a plank of a hare-soup tree,Or fresh-roasted ices to make you seeSaw your way through a milestone of brick, you see;Saw your way through a milestone of brick, you see.”
“Spoon-meat may be good enough for thee,
Hurrah! hurrah!
Spoon-meat may be good enough for thee,
Hurrah! hurrah!
But there’s nought like a plank of a hare-soup tree,
Or fresh-roasted ices to make you see
Saw your way through a milestone of brick, you see;
Saw your way through a milestone of brick, you see.”
“Shut up!” cried some one from the back of the carriage—“for
“Milestones aren’t good looks at all,Hurrah! hurrah!Milestones aren’t good looks at all,Hurrah! hurrah!It’s easy to see through a stone mile’s squall,If your eyes are sour and your temper tol-Erably like a lump of chalk, you see;Erably like a lump of chalk, you see.”
“Milestones aren’t good looks at all,Hurrah! hurrah!Milestones aren’t good looks at all,Hurrah! hurrah!It’s easy to see through a stone mile’s squall,If your eyes are sour and your temper tol-Erably like a lump of chalk, you see;Erably like a lump of chalk, you see.”
“Milestones aren’t good looks at all,Hurrah! hurrah!Milestones aren’t good looks at all,Hurrah! hurrah!It’s easy to see through a stone mile’s squall,If your eyes are sour and your temper tol-Erably like a lump of chalk, you see;Erably like a lump of chalk, you see.”
“Milestones aren’t good looks at all,
Hurrah! hurrah!
Milestones aren’t good looks at all,
Hurrah! hurrah!
It’s easy to see through a stone mile’s squall,
If your eyes are sour and your temper tol-
Erably like a lump of chalk, you see;
Erably like a lump of chalk, you see.”
This seemed to drive a man who had been sitting quiet almost frantic with excitement, and off he went—
“Chalk and stones, and spoons and trees,Hurrah! hurrah!Chalk and stones, and spoons and trees,Hurrah! hurrah!If your eyes aren’t made from a skim-milk cheese,What on earth is the good of talking of these?For you can’t whey what you are talking about, you see;For you can’t whey what you are talking about, you see.”
“Chalk and stones, and spoons and trees,Hurrah! hurrah!Chalk and stones, and spoons and trees,Hurrah! hurrah!If your eyes aren’t made from a skim-milk cheese,What on earth is the good of talking of these?For you can’t whey what you are talking about, you see;For you can’t whey what you are talking about, you see.”
“Chalk and stones, and spoons and trees,Hurrah! hurrah!Chalk and stones, and spoons and trees,Hurrah! hurrah!If your eyes aren’t made from a skim-milk cheese,What on earth is the good of talking of these?For you can’t whey what you are talking about, you see;For you can’t whey what you are talking about, you see.”
“Chalk and stones, and spoons and trees,
Hurrah! hurrah!
Chalk and stones, and spoons and trees,
Hurrah! hurrah!
If your eyes aren’t made from a skim-milk cheese,
What on earth is the good of talking of these?
For you can’t whey what you are talking about, you see;
For you can’t whey what you are talking about, you see.”
A MORAL.
“Last verse, and moral,” said the chairman, with great gravity—
“Such noble thoughts improve the mind,Hurrah! hurrah!Such noble thoughts improve the mind,Hurrah! hurrah!They belong to the true philosophical kind,And the moral is plain to be seen by the blind;For it just is this—that a vile un is fiddle-de-dee;For it just is this—that a vile un is fiddle-de-dee.”
“Such noble thoughts improve the mind,Hurrah! hurrah!Such noble thoughts improve the mind,Hurrah! hurrah!They belong to the true philosophical kind,And the moral is plain to be seen by the blind;For it just is this—that a vile un is fiddle-de-dee;For it just is this—that a vile un is fiddle-de-dee.”
“Such noble thoughts improve the mind,Hurrah! hurrah!Such noble thoughts improve the mind,Hurrah! hurrah!They belong to the true philosophical kind,And the moral is plain to be seen by the blind;For it just is this—that a vile un is fiddle-de-dee;For it just is this—that a vile un is fiddle-de-dee.”
“Such noble thoughts improve the mind,
Hurrah! hurrah!
Such noble thoughts improve the mind,
Hurrah! hurrah!
They belong to the true philosophical kind,
And the moral is plain to be seen by the blind;
For it just is this—that a vile un is fiddle-de-dee;
For it just is this—that a vile un is fiddle-de-dee.”
HEADS AND TAILS.
When the noise was at its height, Norval said to the chairman, “It seems to get greater nonsense at every verse.”
“To she bure it does,” said he; “you are etting ginto Blunderland, and hings don’t thappen there as dey tho in pother laces.”
“Yes, indeed,” said an old gentleman; “look out at the floor and you will hear with your own toes what cruel of a place this is.”
AGES OF MAN.
Neither he nor the chairman could help speaking thus, being in Blunderland; but Norval guessed that the old gentleman meant he was to look and see what kind of a place the train had got into, so turned and gazed out at the window. The first thing he saw was a man riding with his face to the horse’s tail,holding the reins like the tiller-ropes of a boat, which was rather difficult, as he had top-boots on his hands. A little further on came an old man who had a string tied to his leg, the other end of which was held by a pig in a poke-bonnet and a stylish shawl. Next he saw a very old man with short trousers and a pinafore, a satchel over his shoulders, and a slate hanging at his side, at whom a boy not older than himself, in a green coat with brass buttons, and a white hat, carrying a gold-headed cane, was looking through an eye-glass. Jaques had joined Norval, and suddenly called out, “What are they doing in that field?”
“Oh,” said the chairman, “they are tigging the durnips.”
What they were really doing was emptying carts of large stones on the field.
SHAKERS.
“Seeding sow for flint-soup,” said another.
“Flint-soup would be hard fare, I think,” said Jaques; “and besides, how can soup grow?”
“Doesn’t it grow cold sometimes?” said the chairman.
Poor Jaques was quite dumbfoundered. He was sure there was some nonsense about it, but he couldn’t make it out. However, there was no time for more discussion, as the train began to move very strangely, going along with a series of jumps that shook everybody.
“Treasant plavelling now,” said the chairman, smiling sweetly, as the train gave a bump that nearly shook his head off.
“What does it mean?” said Norval.
“Blunderingshire lines are all thade mat way,” said the chairman; “it’s a strittle lange at first, but it will get used to you.”
Bump, bump, bump went the train.
“Oh,” said Norval, “I hope there won’t be an accident!”
“Accident!” said the old gentleman, “what anabsurd idea to get into anybody’s backbone! That would be just the same as common pailways.”
“What’s a pailway?” said Ranulf.
“Down the hill, the same as Jack and Jill, I suppose,” said Norval.