THE WALLYPUG IN LONDON - The Wallypug's Historic Visit to London to visit Queen Victoria E-Book

G. E. Farrow

• Herausgeber: Abela Publishing
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

While this is not a history book, it does record the first and last ever visit to London by the Wallypug from the mysterious land of Zum. He came for Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee in 1887.
We are not altogether sure what Queen Victoria thought of the Wallypug, as there is no record in the Royal Archive……?!?!? – but came he did.
Because the Wallypug is not a listed Head of State and the Land of Zum does not appear on any official lists at the Home Office, the Wallypug was unceremoniously left off the list of formal invitations. As a result he resided with the author, George Farrow, in the centre of London.
While in London he visits all the famous places like the Serpentine, where he fell into the lake when sailing a model boat, upsetting all the other boats. Then he was off to the Tower of London where he gets hopelessly lost. He almost gets arrested by the Metropolitan Police for impersonating a royal personage. Once rescued and returned home, the Police strongly advise that the Wallypug should be accompanied everywhere, as he simply causes too much mayhem when he goes out alone.

But don’t look for Zum in your atlases nor on Google maps, for you won’t find it!
But fear not! If, one day, you should want to visit the land of Zum:

Just go to bed and shut your eyes
And count one hundred, one by one;
Perhaps you’ll find to your surprise
That you’re in Zum when this is done.
Do this, when the moon is full,
And look for a tiny boat-shaped thing,
You may see Pierrot sitting there
And you may hear the little fellow sing.
If you do, just call him, and he’ll come
And carry you away to Zum.

Did a royal invitation eventually arrive? – well you’ll have to download and read this little book to find out for yourself!
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George Edward Farrow (1862 – 1919) born in Ipswich, England, and was a noted British children's book author of whose life little is known.
During his literary career Farrow wrote more than thirty books for children. He encouraged his young readers to write to him, answered their letters, and let their tastes and opinions guide his future works (rather like his American contemporary L. Frank Baum). Though he wrote adventure tales and poetry, Farrow was best known for his nonsense books written in the tradition of Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, especially his Wallypug series.
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KEYWORDS/TAGS: Wallypug, London, Queen Victoria, Jubilee, 1887, royal invitation, Land of Zum, Serpentine, lost, toy sailboat, metropolitan police, Wallypug of why, full moon, sleep, columbine, Doctor-in-Law, Majesty, Rhymester, Putchy, poor, door, declare, first, exclaim, love, General, Jane, Mary, One-and-Nine, surprise, Jubilee, children, crown, carriage, Grace, large, Duchess, window, Girlie, boy. ladies, letter, Kensington, sixpence,

Leseprobe

TheWallypug In London

By

G. E. Farrow

Illustrated By Alan Wright

Originally Published By

Methuen & Co., London[1898]

Resurrected By

Abela Publishing, London

[2020]

The Wallypug in London

Typographical arrangement of this edition

© Abela Publishing 2020

This book may not be reproduced in its current format in any manner in any media, or transmitted by any means whatsoever, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, or mechanical ( including photocopy, file or video recording, internet web sites, blogs, wikis, or any other information storage and retrieval system) except as permitted by law without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Abela Publishing,

London

United Kingdom

[2020]

ISBN-13: 978-8-XXXXXX-XX-X

email

[email protected]

website

www.AbelaPublishing.com

His Majesty arrives at Windsor

Contents

CHANT ROYAL

PREFACE

IHIS MAJESTY AND SUITE ARRIVE

IITHE NEXT DAY’S ADVENTURES

IIISUNDRY SMALL HAPPENINGS

IVLOST

VAN ‘AT HOME’ AND THE ACADEMY

VITHE JUBILEE

VIIMORE ADVENTURES

VIIIHIS MAJESTY IS INTERVIEWED

IXTHE WALLYPUG’S OWN

XTHE WALLYPUG GOES TO WINDSOR

XIHIS MAJESTY AT THE SEASIDE

XIITHE DEPARTURE

ADDRESSED TO

HER MOST GRACIOUS MAJESTY QUEEN VICTORIA

IN COMMEMORATION OF 22nd JUNE, 1897

Victoria! by grace of God our Queen,To thee thy children truest homage pay.Thy children! ay, for Mother thou hast been,And by a mother’s love thou holdest sway.Thy greatest empire is thy Nation’s heart,And thou hast chosen this the better part.Behold, an off’ring meet thy people bring;Hark! to the mighty world-sound gatheringFrom shore to shore, and echoing o’er the sea,Attend! ye Nations while our paeans ring—Victoria’s children sing her Jubilee.

The grandest sight the world hath ever seenThy kingdom offers. Clothed in fair array,The Majesty of Love and Peace serene,While hosts unnumbered loyalty display,Striving to show, by every loving art,The day for them can have no counterpart.Lo! sixty years of joy and sorrowingFor Queen and People, either borrowingFrom other sympathy, in woe or glee,Hath knit their hearts to thine, wherefore they sing—Victoria’s children sing her Jubilee.

With royal dignity and gracious mienThine high position thou hast graced alway;No cloud of discord e’er hath come betweenThy nation and thyself; the fierce white rayThat beats upon thy throne bids hence departThe faintest slander calumny can dart.Thy fame is dear alike to churl and king,And highest honour lies in honouringThe Sovereign to whom we bend the knee;“God save the Queen,” one strain unvarying—Victoria’s children sing her Jubilee.

What prophet, or what seer, with vision keen,Reading the message of a far-off day,The wonders of thy reign could have foreseen,Or known the story that shall last for aye?A page that History shall set apart;Peace and Prosperity in port and mart,Honour abroad, and on resistless wingA steady progress ever-conquering.Thy glorious reign, our glorious theme shall be,And gratitude in every heart upspring—Victoria’s children sing her Jubilee.

Behold, ye tyrants, and a lesson gleanHow subjects may be governed. Lo! the wayA Woman teaches who doth ne’er demeanHer office high. Hark! how her people prayFor blessings on the head that doth impartSo wise a rule. For them no wrongs do smart,No cruelties oppress, no insults sting,Nor does a despot hand exaction wring;Though governed, Britain’s subjects still are free.Gaze then—ye unwise rulers wondering—Victoria’s children sing her Jubilee.

Envoy.

Queen Mother, love of thee doth ever springWithin thy children’s hearts, a priceless thing,Nor pomp nor state that falleth unto theeCan ever rival this grand carolling—Victoria’s children sing her Jubilee.

G. E. Farrow

My dear little Friends,

You will no doubt be surprised to find this book commencing with a perfectly serious poem, and one which probably some of you will find a little difficulty in understanding. When you have grown older, however, and happen to look at this little book again, you will be glad to be reminded of the historic event which the poem commemorates. Now, about ourselves, when I asked in my last book, The Missing Prince, for letters from my little readers, I had no idea that I had so many young friends, and I can hardly tell you how delighted I have been at receiving such a number of kind letters from all parts of the world.

I do hope that I have answered everyone, but really there have been so many, and if by mistake any should have been overlooked, I hope my little correspondents will write again and give me an opportunity of repairing the omission.

Such charming little letters, and all, I am happy to find, really written by the children themselves, which makes them doubly valuable to me.

And how funny and amusing some of them were to be sure! And what capital stories some of you have told me about your pets.

Some pathetic incidents too; as, for instance, that of ‘Shellyback,’ the tortoise, whose little owner wrote a few months after her first letter to say that poor ‘Shellyback’ was dead.

I have been very happy to notice how fond you all seem of your pets, for I have always found that children who make friends with animals invariably have kind and good hearts. And the poor dumb creatures themselves are always so ready to respond to any little act of kindness, and are so grateful and affectionate, that I am sure it adds greatly to one’s happiness in life to interest oneself in them.

One of my correspondents, aged eight, has embarrassed me very much indeed by suggesting that I should “wait for her till she grows up,” as she should “so like to marry a gentleman who told stories.”

I hope she didn’t mean that I did anything so disgraceful; and besides, as it would take nearly twenty-five years for her to catch up to me, she might change her mind in that time, and then what would become of me.

Some of my letters from abroad have been very interesting. One dear little girl at Darjeeling, in India, wrote a very nice descriptive letter, and concluded by asking me to write “something about the stars,” and speaking of new stories brings me to another subject that I wish to talk to you about.

You know that I spoke in my last book about writing a school story, and one about animals. Well, when I found that so many of you wanted to hear “more about the Wallypug,” I was obliged to put these two books aside in order to gratify your wishes. I hope that you will be as interested in hearing about his Majesty this time as you were last.

You will be sure to notice that the pictures are by another artist, but Mr. Harry Furniss has been away from England for some months, and so it has been impossible for him to illustrate this volume. Some other time, perhaps, Dorothy and he will give us more of their work; but in the meantime Mr. Alan Wright has been very interested in drawing pictures for this book, and I hope you will be pleased with his efforts.

Now, about writing to me next time. When I asked you to address me under care of my publishers, I did not realize that in the course of business I might find it necessary to change them sometimes, and so to avoid any possibility of confusion, will you please in future address all letters to

Mr. G. E. Farrow,c/o Messrs. A. P. Watt & Son,Hastings House,Norfolk Street, Strand.

What am I to do with all the beautiful Christmas and New Year’s cards which I have received? Will you be vexed if, after having enjoyed receiving them as I have done so much, I give them to the poor little children at the hospitals to make scrap books with? I happen to know how much they value and appreciate gifts of this kind, and by allowing me to bestow them in this way, your pretty presents will be giving a double happiness.

Well, I must conclude this rather long letter now, or I shall be accused of being tedious; but really it gives me almost as much pleasure to write to you, as it does to receive your letters. Good-bye. Don’t forget that many of you have promised to write to me again, and that I am always more than glad to welcome any new friends.

Believe me, dear Children,Yours affectionately,G. E. Farrow

CHAPTER I His Majesty and Suite Arrive

 most extraordinary thing has happened; the Wallypug has been to London! But there, I am forgetting that possibly you have never read The Wallypug of Why, in which case you will, of course, know nothing about his Majesty, and so I had better explain to you who, and what, he is.

To begin with, then, he is a kind of king of a place called Why, which adjoins the mysterious kingdom of Zum. I am afraid, though, that if you searched your atlases for a very long while you might not find either of these places, for the geographers are so undecided as to their exact position that they have not shown them on the maps at all. Some little friends of mine, named Girlie and Boy, have been there, however, and I can tell you, if you like, the way they went. This is the way to Why:

Just go to bed and shut your eyesAnd count one hundred, one by one;Perhaps you’ll find to your surpriseThat you’re at Why when this is done.

I say perhaps, because this only happens when you have been particularly good all day, and sometimes boys and girls are not quite as good as they—but there, I won’t say what I was going to, for I am quite sure that it would not apply to you. This is the way to Zum:

Not when the moon is at its full,But just a tiny boat-shaped thing,You may see Pierrot sitting thereAnd hear the little fellow sing.If so, just call him, and he’ll comeAnd carry you away to Zum.

There, now, I’ve told you the way to go to both places, so that, if you wish to, you can go there whenever you please.

I am telling you all this because one day in the spring Girlie and Boy, who live in another part of London, came to see me, and we had been talking about these things for about the hundredth time, I should think: for these children are never tired of telling me of all the strange things which happened to them when they journey to these wonderful places. In fact they were just arguing as to which was the most interesting place to go to, Why or Zum, when my housekeeper, Mrs. Putchy, came to the door with the unwelcome news that the carriage had come for my little friends, and that it was time to say good-bye. After they had gone I sat staring into the fire wondering where Why could be, and if there was really such a person as the Wallypug, when my little dog Dick, who had been lying on the rug before the fire, suddenly jumped up, and barking excitedly, ran to the other end of the study, where a picture, which I had bought the day before at an auction sale, stood leaning against the wall. Now this picture had been sold very cheap, because no one could tell at all what it was about, it was so old and dusty, and the colours were so dark and indistinct. I had bought it hoping that it might prove valuable, and there it stood till it could be sent to be cleaned and restored. Imagine my surprise then, when, on following Dick across the study, I discovered that the colours in the picture had all become bright, and were working one into the other in the most remarkable way, red running into green, and blue into yellow, while a little patch of black in the centre of the picture was whirling round and round in quite a distracting manner. What could it all mean? I stared and wondered, till, out of the confusion, there gradually grew shapes which bore some resemblance to human beings, and, presently, I could recognize quite distinctly, first a young man in knee breeches, smiling in a particularly self-satisfied way, and escorting a large fish, who was walking upright, with slippers on his tail, and who wore a waistcoat and necktie. Then an amiable-looking old gentleman, carrying a wand, who was followed by a curious little person, wearing a crown and carrying an orb and sceptre. A particularly stiff and wooden-looking soldier stood at the back of this strange group. Judge of my amazement when, quite as a matter of course, the whole party deliberately stepped out of the picture into the room, and, before I could realize what had happened, the old gentleman with the wand came forward with a flourish and an elaborate bow, and announced:

“A-hem! his Majesty the Wallypug of Why and suite.”

With slippers on his tail

I was so astonished that for the moment I could not think what to say, but at last I managed to stammer, as I made a low bow to the Wallypug:

“I am delighted to make your Majesty’s acquaintance.”

The Wallypug smiled very affably, and held out his hand.

“I have come up for the Jubilee, you know,” he said.

“We’ve come up, you mean to say, Wallypug,” corrected the old gentleman with the wand, frowning somewhat severely. “I am the Wallypug’s professional adviser,” he continued. “I am called the Doctor-in-Law—allow me to introduce the rest of our party. This,” he went on, bringing the young man with the self-satisfied smile forward, “is the Jubilee Rhymester from Zum; he hopes to become a minor poet in time. And this,” indicating the wooden-looking soldier, “is Sergeant One-and-Nine, also from Zum.” Here the Doctor-in-Law took me aside and whispered in my ear, “Slightly cracked, crossed in love; speaks very peculiarly; capital chap though.” Then crossing to where the Fish was standing, he said, “And this is A. Fish, Esq., the celebrated lecturer on the ‘Whichness of the What as compared with the Thatness of the Thus.’ He desired to accompany us here in order to find material for a new lecture which he is preparing upon the ‘Perhapness of the Improbable.’ He’s awfully clever,” he whispered impressively.

“I’m sure I’m delighted to see you all,” I said, shaking hands with each one till I came to the Fish, who held out a fin. “Er-er-how do you do?” I stammered, somewhat taken aback by this strange proceeding.