The question was now submitted to Bob, who sat in judgment on us all, with as much gravity as if accustomed to such duties from infancy. It is said that men soon get to be familiar with elevation, and that, while he who has fallen never fails to look backwards, he who has risen invariably limits his vision to the present horizon. Such proved to be the case with the princely Bob.
“This person,” observed the jackanapes, pointing to me, “is a very good sort of person, it is true, but he is hardly the sort of person your majesty wants just now. There is the lord high admiral, too—but—” (Bob’s but was envenomed by a thousand kicks!)—“but—you wish, sire, to know which of my father’s subjects was the most useful in getting the ship to Leaphigh?”
“That is precisely the fact I desire to know.”
Bob hereupon pointed to the cook; who, it will be remembered, was present as one of his train-bearers. “I believe I must say, sire, that this is the man. He fed us all; and without food, and that in considerable quantities, too, nothing could have been done.”
The little blackguard was rewarded for his impudence, by exclamations of pleasure from all around him.—“It was so clever a distinction,”—“it showed so much reflection,”—“it was so very profound,”—“it proved how much he regarded the base of society;”—in short, “it was evident England would be a happy country, when he should be called to the throne!” In the meantime the cook was required to come forth, and kneel before his majesty.
“What is your name?” whispered the lord of the bed-chamber, who now spoke for himself.
“Jack Coppers, your honor.”
The lord of the bed-chamber made a communication to his majesty, when the sovereign turned round by proxy, with his back towards Jack, and, giving him the accolade with his tail, he bade him rise, as “Sir Jack Coppers.”
I was a silent, an admiring, an astounded witness of this act of gross and flagrant injustice. Some one pulled me aside, and then I recognized the voice of Brigadier Downright.
“You think that honors have alighted where they are least due. You think that the saying of your crown prince has more smartness than truth, more malice than honesty. You think that the court has judged on false principles, and acted on an impulse rather than on reason; that the king has consulted his own ease in affecting to do justice; that the courtiers have paid a homage to their master, in affecting to pay a homage to merit; and that nothing in this life is pure or free from the taint of falsehood, selfishness, or vanity. Alas! this is too much the case with us monikins, I must allow; though, doubtless, among men you manage a vast deal more cleverly.”