Ting-a-ling

by Frank R. Stockton

THE MAGICAL MUSIC.

There was once an excessively mighty King, Barradin the Great, who died, leaving no sons or daughters, or any relation on the face of the earth, to inherit his crown. So his throne, at the time of which I write, was vacant. This mighty King had been of a very peculiar disposition. Unlike other potentates, he took no delight in going to war, or in cutting off people's heads, or in getting married, or building palaces. But he was a great musician. All that he cared for, seemed to be music; and the whole of his leisure time, with a great many of his business hours, was occupied in either composing or performing music of some kind. Everybody around him was obliged to be musical; and if one was not so, it would be of no use for him to apply for any situation. His Prime Minister played on the violin, his Secretary performed on the horn, while his Treasurer was superb upon the great drum. Every time the Royal Council met, the minutes of the last meeting, all set to music, were sung by the Secretary; and when the King made a speech, he always sung it in a magnificent bass voice, accompanied by a full orchestra. If any one wished to present a petition, he was always sure of having it granted, if he could but sing it excellently well, and even folks who were good at whistling were favorably received at court. The example of the King was followed by the people. They nearly always talked to some tune, and every one but the very poorest owned an instrument.

So this mighty monarch never went to war, or cut off people's heads, or married more than once; and as for building palaces, it was of no use, for he had as many as he wanted, already. The last ten years of his life were occupied, almost entirely, in the composition of a wonderful piece of music, in which he sought, by means of perseverance and magic, to combine all the beauties and difficulties of the science. He had scarcely finished it, when he died; and it was generally supposed that if he had not worked so hard at it, he would have lived much longer.

The composition was not long, for you could have sung it in ten minutes, that is, if you could have sung it at all; which is by no means likely, for had that been the case (and you had lived in those days) you might have ruled over the country. For, just before the mighty King died, he made a decree to this effect,—that his successor on the throne should be the man, woman, or child who could, at sight, sing that piece of music.

So the music was put up against a marble tablet in the great hall of the royal palace, and there were six judges appointed,—the most distinguished professors of music in the country,—and these sat on great velvet chairs, three on each side of the music, and anybody might come to try who chose.

You may well believe that the people came in crowds, for nearly every one wished to be king or queen, as the case might be. This music had a very singular effect upon most of those who did not succeed in singing it. They nearly all went crazy. The first few notes were easy, and they were so beautiful, that it was enough to make any one crazy to think that they could not sing the rest of it,—not to mention missing the crown. The Prime Minister had, on this account, a great asylum built, to which the disappointed candidates were immediately conveyed, and the house was very soon filled. Indeed, it was often necessary to build extensions to the main building, and it was not long before this was the largest edifice in the country. It is true, that although every one failed to sing the music, they did not all go crazy; but they were taken to the asylum the same as the rest, and if they were not crazy when they got there, they soon became so, and thus it amounted to pretty much the same thing in the end. Well, the judges sat in their chairs until they died at a good old age, and they were succeeded by others just as learned. Latterly there were not so many applications as there used to be, but still, every few days, some one went out to the asylum. Years passed, and the offices of the judges became sinecures; but they had to sit there all the same, just as if they expected to be busy; and they might have been seen, whenever anybody chose to step in during the day, sitting there with their chins on their breasts, fast asleep. The Prime Minister, and after him his son, ruled the country very well, and people began to feel as if they didn't care if they never had a king or a queen to govern them. As a rule, they all felt very comfortable without anything of the kind.

Now it so happened that about this time a certain young Prince, accompanied by an old gentleman (to take care of him), was travelling in this great kingdom. His father's dominion was very many miles away; but the Prince had been journeying in this direction for quite a long time, taking things easily, and seeing everything that was to be seen. His mother had died when he was quite young, and his father had lately married the daughter of a gnome, probably because their estates joined,—his stretching for many miles over the surface of the earth, while hers lay immediately beneath them. The Prince did not like his gnome step-mother (who was, you know, one of those large underground fairies, who are more like human beings than any others), and when a little gnome-baby was born, he could stand it no longer, and so obtained permission of his father to travel for the good of his body and mind. So he had been going from country to country until he reached the capital city of the great kingdom.

There the Prince saw enough to fill him with wonder for the rest of his life. His old friend, Trumkard, took him day by day into the bazaars, and the palaces, and the mosques, and hundreds of places just as nice. One beautiful evening the Prince set out for a walk by himself through the city. The gentle twilight still tinged the sky with gold, and the soft breeze from the river, that passed through fruit-gardens and vineyards on its way to the city, smelt of peaches, and grapes, and plums, and oranges, and pomegranates, and pineapples, and was truly very delicious. Everything was lovely, and the Prince felt good and happy. The very beggars, when he had passed them, blessed the happy stars that had caused them to be born during his life-time, so noble and generous was the Prince this evening. Strolling along, he came to the palace of the mighty King. The Prince knew the palace; for Trumkard had taken him into it, and had shown him the six judges sitting in their velvet chairs, and the magical music hanging up against the marble tablet between them. He knew all about the music, and the conditions attached to it, but, not being much of a musician, he had never felt inclined to try it. So he walked through the royal courts and vestibules, and into the great hall where stood the six chairs,—empty, and covered with silken covers to keep the dust off during the night. And the music was concealed by a great plate of gold which was locked over it every night. He met but few persons; for every one who was not detained by some particular duty, had gone out-of-doors that lovely night. Here and there, a porter, or a black eunuch, or a soldier or two, he met; but as every one who saw him, knew him instantly for a prince of good blood, he could, of course, wander where he pleased. He passed on among the golden columns and sculptured doorways, and under vaulted and arabesque ceilings, until he came to a door of mother-of-pearl, which had a golden lock, an alabaster knob, and a diamond key-hole. It turned easily on silver hinges, and the Prince passed by it into a beautiful garden. He had never been in such a place of loveliness. The trees were hung with many soft-colored lamps, and the fruit glittered and shone in gorgeous colors on the branches. Every night-bird sang, and every night-flower was giving forth its fragrance. In the middle of the garden was a fountain, the waters of which rose in a single jet from the centre, and then, as they fell back into the basin, each of their thousand drops struck upon a silver harp-string, causing the most delightful sounds to fill the air, and mingle with the songs of the birds and the perfume of the flowers. Around the great basin were silken cushions on which the Prince reclined, and the goldfish that were swimming in the basin came up to him to be fed. There also came the ruby fish, that shines as red as blood, and the zimphare, or transparent fish, which is as colorless as the water, and can only be discovered by a green knot on its head and another on its tail.

There were also many other fish, as the balance-fish, which comes up to the top of the water equally balanced, having at each end of its body expansions like the pans of scales. These are its mouths, and if one puts a crumb into one of them without having put one into the other, it turns right over, and sinks to the bottom. So, when this fish is properly fed, it always gets two crumbs at a time. Then there was the gelatine fish, that has no mouth at all, but is very soft and pulpy, and all that is necessary is to drop some crumbs upon his back, and they immediately soak in. Also the great flob was there, who came clattering and clanking up from the bottom of the basin, with his hard shells and heavy claws, as if he was the greatest fish alive. But for all that he opened his mouth so wide, and shut it upon a little crumb with a snap loud enough for a loaf of bread, his throat was so small that that little crumb nearly choked him. All these fishes the Prince fed from golden baskets filled with crumbs, and placed around the basin for the convenience of those who wished to amuse themselves by feeding the fish. When he was tired of this sport, he rose and entered the palace again by another door. He had not walked far along an alabaster corridor, before he saw a door open, and an old woman come out. She had in her hand a silver waiter, on which was the remains of a delicious little supper, the scent of which seemed so charming to the Prince that it made him feel as hungry as a bear in the springtime. The old woman, who was busy munching some of the pieces of cake, and sucking the bones of the little birds that were left, did not notice him; and, hoping to find some more good things where these came from, he slipped in at the door, before the old woman shut it, and entered a large and beautiful room, lighted by a single lamp that hung from the ceiling. At the upper end of this apartment, he was surprised to see a beautiful young Princess, who was sitting in an arm-chair, fast asleep, with a guitar on the floor at her feet. Around the room were placed musical instruments of all kinds; but there was no one there to play on them but the Princess, and she was fast asleep.