The King of Gee-Whiz Part 11

THE KING LOSES HIS SHADOW

The King of Gee-Whiz stepped out into an open s.p.a.ce in the forest, and, to his very great surprise, observed that he could not feel his feet touch the ground. This was really because he was so full of rubber, although he himself had no idea of any such thing at all. He was conscious only of feeling that he had all along been a greater King than he had had credit for being. So he hummed a tune to himself as he began to dance.

There was probably never a dance just such as this which the King of Gee-Whiz now began. Had he himself seen it from a distance, he would have been sure that it was not the performance of a dignified and respectable King. He sprang from one foot to the other, and each time he touched the ground he rebounded into the air a dozen feet, or possibly even more. He alighted upon both feet, muttering as he did so an exclamation of delight, for, strange as that may seem, he was enjoying himself very much. Each time that both his feet struck the ground he went into the air just twice as far as when only one foot was so employed. He slapped his arms upon his chest, and as he did this, to his great surprise, a squeak came out of his mouth exactly similar to that which comes from the hole in a rubber ball when you squeeze it. This startled him at first, but he was too busy to think about it long.

He sprang from side to side; and whereas in a common dancing step a King goes scarcely more than two or three feet at a stride, the King now would step at least a dozen feet, or, for that matter, perhaps twenty.

There seemed to be no limit to the length of the steps he could take; and whenever he took a step he bounded high into the air, at times having difficulty in keeping himself from turning quite over in the air.

Indeed, the temptation to turn hand-springs and somersaults as he had done when a boy became so strong upon him that only his great kingly dignity served to prevent his doing that very thing.

"Aha!" cried the King, "this certainly is fine." At least these are the words which he wished to say, although all that he could hear were several sharp whistles as the breath came out of his mouth.

The King sprang up and down very hard, anxious to see how high he could go into the air. To his great surprise, he found that by making several leaps up and down he could easily bound upward as high as the top of the tallest palms. This pleased him very much, as in this position he secured a wider view of his own possessions than he had ever had in his life before.

"I shall come back here once in a while," said the King to himself, "and have another drink at that rubber tree, if this dose wears off after a while. This really is wonderful. It enlarges my outlook upon life many-fold, and although I have previously to this felt very much of a King, I now begin to understand how much I have underrated my own abilities in every line of activity. But, by the way," he added to himself, "this exercise is affecting the royal appet.i.te. I think I'll step over and have my breakfast."

So in one or two long strides he walked over to the palace and called aloud to his Private Secretary and to the Widow Pickle. To his great surprise, when he called aloud, the King could not speak a word, but could only whistle. He put up his hand to his face to feel what was the matter with his voice, but of course he could not feel anything about his voice. He did, however, observe, very much to his annoyance, that his royal aquiline nose had quite disappeared, that his mouth now extended quite across his face, that his ears were small and almost gone into his head, and that for a forehead nothing remained but a wide, round expanse, which he could easily dent with his thumb. In short, he resembled, to the touch at least, although, of course, he could not see himself, nothing in the world so much as a large, soft, rubber ball, hollow and inflated, and with legs and arms attached.

When the King realized this and found also that his voice was gone, a sudden fear fell upon him. "My soul and body!" thought he to himself, "can this be true? If so, I am in the worst sort of a situation, for no one will recognize me!" So saying, he sank down upon the ground near the palace door, and after a number of bounces up and down at last settled into an att.i.tude of Deep Thought.

After the King had thought for quite a time, he happened to look upon the ground before him. To his great surprise, there was no shadow there. He had not known that all along it had been the intention of the Wicked Fairy to steal his shadow. Such, however, had been the case.

While the King was at the top of one of his highest bounds, the Wicked Fairy, who had remained upon the ground below, took the opportunity to remove his shadow from beneath him; so that after that the King cast no shadow at all. Just how this was done it is hard to say. Perhaps the Chemist, Aurelius Pickle, who knew many strange things, could have told how this occurred, but he, being dead, could not be asked. It may be that as the King was stretched out to thrice his natural height, he was thrice his natural thinness, and that the shadow also became three times as thin, and so was easy to take away. In any case, certainly the Wicked Fairy had removed the King's shadow, and, of course, with it the White Cricket which had always lived in that shadow. When the King looked down and saw what had happened, he fell back in a deep swoon of terror.

For a moment all was still; then there came from somewhere off in the distance, the doleful tones of the Enchanted Banjo.

THE SORROWFUL SONG OF THE SHADOWLESS KING

If you find my shadow, O bring it straight to me!

A shadowless King is compelled to be gloomy; I sit in the sun and I sob in my sorrow And wonder if I'll have a shadow to-morrow.

I've lost my shadow; My heart is sad, O!

I would be glad, O!

If I but had, O!

My shadow.

I look in the corners, I hunt through my palace; I grieve that my shadow was stolen through malice-- Just think, if you please, of a life sad and hollow!

When I take a walk there's no shadow to follow.

I've lost my shadow; It is too bad, O!

It makes me mad, O!

To think I had, O!

My shadow.

My shadow was ever a thing of great beauty; It did all I did, as was its bounden duty; It echoed my sitting and standing and walking, My riding and ruling, and all but my talking.

I've lost my shadow; It makes me sad, O!

I would be glad, O!

If I but had, O!

My shadow.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The King was very proud of his shadow _Page 89_]

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER XIX

TROUBLES AT THE ROYAL PALACE

About the time these events were happening the Widow Pickle was preparing to make ready the King's breakfast. As she came from her house and approached the palace, her eyes rested upon the prostrate body of the King.

"This," said the Widow Pickle, "is the strangest looking object I ever saw in all my life. I wonder what it is."

At this time there came around the corner of the palace the Private Secretary of the King. "Good morning, Widow Pickle," said the Private Secretary. "Have you seen his Royal Highness anywhere this morning? It is nearly his breakfast hour, and no one knows where he is."

"I don't know either," said the Widow Pickle; "but I do know that it is scandalously late for any decent King to be lying abed. But tell me, what is this thing lying here, do you suppose?"

As she spoke, she gave the King a poke with her foot, which immediately made him resolve to have her beheaded. The King recognized his Private Secretary and made frantic efforts to speak to him, all the time gesticulating in the wildest manner; but all he could do was to squeak as before; and the worst of it was that, as he became excited, he began again to bound up and down in the most violent manner.

"Mercy on us!" said the Widow Pickle. "I didn't know it was alive! What do you suppose it is?"

The Private Secretary took a second look and turned deathly pale.

"Madam," said he in a whisper, "it is none less than his Royal Highness, though what has come to him I can not say. But that it is the King I can swear by these two fingers on his hands and by the pink strawberry mark upon his shoulder."

"Your Majesty!" cried the faithful Private Secretary, "calm yourself, I beseech you. Pray be seated."

The King continued to bound up and down.

"Your Majesty," said the Private Secretary, "how came you in this unfortunate condition? I am very much distressed, indeed, your Majesty.

But will you not be seated?"

The King violently shook his head and resumed his agitation, until at length the Private Secretary grasped him by one arm and so at last brought him to a stop and placed him upon the Royal Throne.

"Why, your Majesty," said the Private Secretary, "you are light as a feather! Pray, tell me, how has this happened?"

The King could only squeak as before, but now he made a violent motion toward his feet. The Private Secretary understood him, as any good Private Secretary should be able to understand even the inmost thoughts of his King.

"Quite right, your Majesty," said he. "I shall send at once for the Court Physician."

So presently the Court Physician came up on a run, and, seeing what was the trouble, took his keen lancet and bled the King in his royal left foot. At once there was a sharp, hissing sound, and the dimensions of the King began to subside. In a few moments he had shrunk to such a size that he could be recognized by all. But now he was in such a rage that he could not make himself understood, but merely spluttered. Then he was for beheading the Widow Pickle at once for kicking him while he was helpless. Then he changed his mind, and ordered everybody banished from the Island except himself. This notion also pa.s.sed, and he at length became more calm.

"Your Majesty, it was all those Waffles," cried the Court Physician, who was jealous of the Widow Pickle.

"Not in the least," declared the Widow Pickle. "That was never said of my Waffles before, as I am an honest woman."