“His Majesty the King says he could well do with a fresh poet,” he announced, “and I am sure you will all agree that our new friend Mr. Withersquash is a very suitable one for the job. I therefore here and now award him the head poet of England. Three cheers for him. Go it, boys!”
“Ah ah” they screemed. “Hurrah-hurrah-hurrah! That is charming!” All the young [41] ]lady poets and all the young gentlemen poets jumped for joy because the new poet had sprung from their school.
The teachers and classes now drew in a ring round our hero clasping his Selia. The old lady servant who had opened the door to our heros now entered bearing a golden hat-box which she presented with a touching curtsy to the head teacher. He soon whipped off the lid, and drew forth an object mufled in crinkeld paper.
“Ooh!” breathed all present, sucking in their breaths.
Off came the crinkeld paper, and the bald bearded teacher drew forth a sweet little crown, all made of leaves, and bending over, slipped it on top of Mr. Withersquashes head.
“That is until his dear Majesty the King has time to ask him to the Palace,” said he and kissed him a lot very sloppy and would have kist Selia but Mr. Withersq said not.
[42] All the crowd had a good clap and were very excited, for you see Mr. Withersq had wrote the best poem of the top class of the swankiest school of poetry in Briton and had been made head poet for his trouble which is how those things are done and they choose a new one every few years or so when the old ones get stale.
But Mr. Withersq took the bun by laying his littel crown of leaves at Selia’s feet with a low bow (not wishing to go out in the street with it on) after which he hung it on one arm, and taking Selia on the other they walked forth amid the admiring throng waving them a harty goodbye.
CHAPTER FIVE [43]
“Now,” said Selia, “what about a bit of food?”