Uncle Joe's Stories

by Baron Edward Hugessen Knatchbull-Hugessen Brabourne

Araminta, less tall than her sister, had a delicacy of complexion unrivalled in Pigmyland; her blue eyes were modestly cast down if you accosted her. She spoke in tones soft and low like the south wind whispering in the mulberry-trees, and whilst her sister took your heart by storm, she stole into it unawares, and made you captive before you knew you were in danger.

Such is the description of the two daughters of the noble house of Binks, as given by a Pigmy writer of eminence at that time, and such were the charms against which King Famcram had to contend at the beginning of the campaign. The Prime Minister had intended that his entertainment should take the shape of a banquet; but the ladies insisted upon a ball, and a ball it was consequently to be. Immense preparations were made for days, nay, for weeks beforehand. The villa was gorgeously decorated, the ball-room tastefully arranged, the choicest music was provided, and no pains spared to ensure the desired success. At last the day arrived, and the hearts of Binks and his daughters beat high with expectation.

The villa was beautifully placed upon the slope of a mountain, at the foot of which a broad river wound through flowery meads and fertile fields, enriching and beautifying both in its onward course. The grounds of the villa stretching along the banks of the river, were beautiful to a degree seldom seen out of Pigmyland, and never had they appeared to greater advantage than on the present occasion. Gay flags streamed from staffs placed in the most conspicuous positions as well as from many of the tallest of the trees which abounded in those magnificent gardens; sounds of lively music were wafted upon the soft summer breeze to the entranced ear of the listener; and every heart was filled with rejoicing and merriment.

King Famcram was received at the entrance by a crowd of well-dressed courtiers and obsequious attendants, who awaited his coming with all that exuberant loyalty which is pre-eminently characteristic of the true Pigmy. He appeared somewhat late, as was in those days always deemed becoming in royal personages, and his coming was announced by the enthusiastic cheers of the dense crowd which thronged the approaches to the garden gates.

Seated in the hereditary coach of the Pigmy monarchs, drawn by eight cream-coloured guinea-pigs, and clad in rich garments of various hue, Famcram drew near to the habitation of the honoured Binks. In his hand he held the ancient sceptre of his race, which was nothing less than the petrified skull of an early occupant of the Pigmy throne, who had by his will left his head to be devoted to this purpose, and directed that it should be rivetted in gold settings upon his favourite walking-stick, and further ornamented by such gifts as his faithful subjects might choose to bestow out of respect for the memory of their deceased lord. As his successors, each upon his accession to the throne, invited new gifts to the sceptre as a test of continuous loyalty and devotion to the throne, the head of the dead king had practically brought greater wealth to his family than it had ever done during his life-time, and although an additional precious stone or two was set in the skull after each recurrence of gifts, the greater portion of these were, it was more than supposed, converted into cash by the various monarchs who received them, and appropriated to their own royal purposes. This valuable weapon King Famcram waved in his hand as he neared his prime minister's dwelling, and looked round upon his people with a proud and kingly gaze as he passed along.

Binks, as was but natural, met his royal master at the gate, and prepared to escort him up the avenue to the door of the villa, across a profusion of flowers with which the way thereto was covered.

Famcram alighted from his carriage, and suffered his host to conduct him through the great gates, and to go bowing and scraping before him up the avenue. He followed, squinting around him in a friendly manner, and graciously expressing his approval of the beauty of the place. But as soon as he had reached the stone steps which led up to the villa door, the latter was thrown open, and, one on each side of the doorway, stood the two daughters of the ancient house of Binks, clad in gorgeous attire, and each holding in her hand a magnificent bouquet of the choicest flowers, which it was their intention to humbly offer to their august sovereign, and which they lost not a moment in presenting. Scarcely, however, had Famcram set eyes upon the sisters and perceived their intention, than he positively snorted with disgust, and starting hastily backwards, (during which process he planted his heel firmly upon the gouty toe of his Prime Minister,) he turned round fiercely upon the latter and accused him of having intended to poison him:

"Wretch!" he cried, "there is poison in those flowers which your daughters—if such they be—offer to me, and doubtless it has not been placed there without the knowledge and consent of their vile parent. I know it but too well. Make no excuses, for they will all be useless. The nose of a Pigmy of the royal race is never mistaken. My great-great-grandfather was poisoned by a subtle venom concealed in a carnation, and in the similar flowers which are conspicuous in each of the bouquets I see before me, I detect the fate you had in store for your sovereign. But you shall bitterly rue it! Seize him, guard!"

The unhappy Binks, overcome with astonishment and terror, in vain raised his voice to protest that nothing was further from his thoughts than to perpetrate such a terrible crime as that which the king suspected—and that, too, against a prince whose cause he had espoused from the first, and in whose favour his whole hopes were placed. He vowed that his daughters were certainly as innocent as he was, and implored that the bouquets might be carefully examined, in order to prove that no poisonous substance had been placed therein. It was all to no purpose. Famcram only flew into a still more violent passion.

"No poison in the flowers!" he cried. "The villain doubts his king's nose and his king's words! Off with him, guards, at once; and let his daughters be taken too!"