Boxen: Childhood Chronicles Before Narnia. Walter Hooper

as a class. But he was sensible enough not to condemn individual Chess whom he really liked. And none did he like better than Samuel Macgoullah, a knight. This worthy was not a member of Boxonian city society, but he was before everything a gentlemen. Although he dressed in a pea-jacket, although he spoke with a strong Murry accent, although he went to the pit in theatres & took a gladstone-bag full of oranges, although he captained his own little schooner the Bosphorous, Macgoullah was a gentleman. True, some snobs did not recognize the fact because when he became rich and an M.P. he still lived as he always had done. On the evening after the meeting of the new Clique, he would have been found sitting in the Inner of the Schooner Inn (a homely & comfortable hostelry in the docks) with 2 friends.

      MEETING OF FRIENDS IN ‘THE SCHOONER.’

      One of these was Mr Green, and the other needs some comment. He was a bear clad in the uniform of a naval chief steward, or as he liked to call it ‘purser’. He was short and inclined to corpulence, good-humoured, and self-satisfied: in fact he was Jas. Bar Purser of H.M. gunboat Thrush. One cannot say more!

      Green was talking to both loudly. ‘This d – d toad, & these two fellows ye call kings have had the impudence to turn me out of their Clique.’

      ‘Never mind, Polonius,’ said Macgoullah consolingly, ‘its no great loss.’

      Bar had been one of the many who had tried 3 months ago to get a place in the new Clique, but without success: consequently he had no sympathy with the bird.

      ‘’Pon my word Green,’ he cried, ‘your hard to please. You’ve been in the Clique for 3 months, & I havn’t had a day! But I’m not making a song about it.’

      ‘Three months, you little scugy! And only had one meeting.’

      ‘Ah well,’ put in Macgoullah, ‘the only thing to do is to try & get another Clique formed.’

      ‘Billocks!! I want personal revenge on the toad & his 2 young friends –’

      ‘No!’ shouted the Chessknight, ‘Not a word against their majesties, they’ve always been good friends to me.’

      ‘Lot of use their friendship to you is to me, you sloppy mule! But I’ll go for the toad!’

      ‘A duel?’ said Bar.

      ‘A duel,’ said the bird with scorn, ‘what d’ye take me fer? No, some little scheme: think of something.’

      Bar was silent for some seconds & then cried ‘I have it,’ & burst into laughter.

      ‘What is it?’

      But Bar only rocked to & from with aching sides & streaming eyes.

      ‘What is it?’ reiterated his friends. At last when Bar was able to explain his plan all 3 began a hearty guffaw at the scheme. It was as follows: to buy (at the Little-Master’s expence) 500 golf balls, with which they would (by the connivance of the palace servants) stuff his matress: if the plan was not sanguinary enough to suit Green, he at any rate kept that view to himself.

      At this moment a servant entered and handed envelopes to Bar and Macgoullah: tearing his open the latter found the following missive: –

      It is not everyone who is invited to a royal ball so our worthy Macgoullah was pleased. Bar’s was the same & they both announced the fact.

      Green was annoyed.

      CHAPTER VI

      Great was the preparation of Bar and Macgoullah when the eventful evening arrived. Bar had hired a handsome to be ready for them both outside the ‘Schooner’ where they had arranged to meet.

      As they drew near the palace, Regency Street became a mass of moving lights dancing to the music of horses’ hoofs and the powerful purr of motors: and it was not without difficulty that the hireling Jehu navigated them to the portals of Regency St Palace. Stepping out they were conducted by suave domestics to the cloak room, which, as is usually the case on these occasions, was crowded with knots of whispering guests fiddling with their gloves. There of course is Puddiphat immaculately clad; there is Reginald Pig the Shipowner dressed in solid and plain evening dress; there is Quicksteppe looking finer than ever as the electric light catches his glossy curling locks; there is Colonel Chutney, formerly head of the war office, but now removed to give place to Fortescue who is also present. After some time of nervous fumbling and brushing, Pig, the most couragious person present, led a sort of forlorn hope to the salon where their Majesties were recieving their guests and where stout domestics dispensed tea etc. The two kings were throwing all their histrionic powers into an imitation of enjoyment, and behind them stood the Little-Master looking rather worried. The boys kept up a continual flow of conversation: –

      ‘Good evening, My dear Pig! How are the ships? Ah, Viscount Puddiphat, very glad you came.’

      ‘Good evening Your Majesties. Ah my dear Little-Master I see you’ve been having busy times in the Clique.’

      ‘Yes,’ said Big drily.

      The Duchess of Penzly came up, a heavy woman whom they all abominated.

      ‘Good evening Duchess. Hasn’t Miss Penzly – oh! Influenza? I am very sorrey to hear that.’ The Duchess passed on to Big. ‘Ah, Lord Big, this is a pleasure. How delighted I was to hear you had had some excitement in politics, it does liven things up so, doesn’t it?’