Hullo, my lad! I've caught you then at last!

I've waited twenty years to break my fast.

It's hungry work. But now I've got you.

Come. Don't kick, 'twill hurt the more. Fe, fi, fo, fum!

1. A cla.s.sical quotation having special reference to the antic.i.p.ation of a good square meal.

_Rom_.

Oh, please it wasn't me! See, there's my brother, He's far more on his bones than me, my dear stepmother!

_Wolf (perceiving Remits_).

Humph! I may want you both.

But if you wish I'll start on Remus for my opening dish.

_Rom_.

Do, gentle step-dame; then when he is done, Come back and claim your sole surviving son.

_Wolf_.

Agreed! But lest you should forget your promise, dear, I'll take, if you'll allow, my first course here.

I shan't be long; and as your turn comes next, Don't keep me waiting--I should be so vexed.

(_Proceeds to devour Remus with relish_.)

_Rom. (aside_).

Ah, ha, old glutton! Ha, not much you don't!

If I can help it, dine off me you won't.

(_Stabs the wolf from behind_.)

_Wolf_.

Alack, I die, my banquet, half untasted!

To think of so much dainty dinner wasted!

_Rom. (dances and sings_) - Who killed old Remus?

I, said his brother, likewise his step-mother, I killed old Remus.

Who saw him fall?

Not a man-jack saw him drop on his back; None saw him fall. Who's all right now?

I, says the Roman; I'm rid of my foeman, I'm all right now.

_Enter Chorus (with a band and flags_).

Great Romulus, we're glad to see you licked him (Sing hey the jolly Roman and his ma); We're jolly glad you punched his head and kicked him (Sing hey the jolly Roman that you are).

Then hail to you, great Roman!

We yield to you or no man, (Sing hey the jolly Roman and his ma).

We beg you'll let us help you build the city (Sing hey the jolly city that he rears); We'll be your loyal subjects; show us pity (Sing hey the jolly city and three cheers).

Then hail the jolly city, To you we chant our ditty, (Sing hey the jolly city and three cheers).

_Rom_.

Friends, thank you one and all; excuse my tear, Domestic trouble makes me feel so queer; But if you like, to celebrate this day I sing you here one final roundelay.

(_Sings_.) When Romulus from Tiber's stream escaped, His infant footsteps to the woodland shaped, He sort of vowed, if ever he grew big, He would the walls of a great city dig.

This was his object; here he takes his stand, Romans ever, ever, ever I'll command.

_Chorus (all going)_-- Rule, old Roma, Roma rule the land, Romans ever, ever, ever he'll command.

(_Exeunt omnes_.)

CHAPTER SEVEN.

A NIGHT WITH THE CROWNED HEADS.

Sub-Chapter I.

THE ARREST.

It was a ferociously hot day at the beginning of the summer vac. I, as in duty bound, had been spending my first day as a well-conducted, newly broken-up schoolboy should.

Being fully impressed with the importance of combining self-improvement with all my recreations, I had been in the morning to the Zoo, where I had eaten buns with the elephant, cracked jokes and nuts with the monkeys, prodded the hippopotamus, got a rise out of the grizzly, made the lions roar, had a row with the chimpanzee, and generally enjoyed myself.

Then I had done the Tower. This only took ten minutes, as the place was horribly slow, and fellows looked after you wherever you went.

After that I had had a turn at the circus, to study the habits of the horse in a state of nature. I should have liked this more if the clown had not been such a m.u.f.f. He wasn't half up to his business, and consequently the place was not as improving as it ought to have been.

So I shook off the dust of it from my feet, and, after laying some apples and other things aboard, took an omnibus to Madame Tussaud's, where I knew I should see some fellows of my acquaintance, and be able to improve my mind in good company.

You must know I had pulled off the third history prize in our division last term, and therefore felt more or less friendly disposed to the kings and queens generally, and was even a little curious to see what they looked like, now that I was supposed to know more about them than most fellows do.

To tell the truth, although I had several times been to Madame Tussaud's before, I had invariably cut these grand people and devoted myself to another part of the establishment, which boys are usually supposed to understand better. Even on the present occasion it was necessary to pay a visit to those regions, since several celebrated historical figures were kept down there, which I felt I must on no account miss seeing.

But after I had thoroughly explored that portion, making the acquaintance of all the new-comers, putting my head into the guillotine, taking a turn in the condemned cell, sitting in Napoleon's carriage, and otherwise informing myself concerning the seamy side of human nature, I determined to be virtuous and devote at least half an hour to the study of the royalties in the Great Hall.

The enterprise was not to be undertaken without refreshment. I therefore took a preliminary excursion to the ground floor, where the historical costumes are kept, and, close beside them, the ices, buns, Victoria sandwiches, ginger-beer, Turkish delight, lemon squashes, and other wholesome aids to historical research. Here I dallied a little-- just long enough to repair the ravages of nature--and then, feeling very much as Little Jack Horner did after he had partaken of refreshment, I mounted once more the marble stairs and set myself to do the crowned heads.

I set myself literally, for it occurred to me I could do their Majesties just as well sitting as standing. And, as the afternoon was hot, and the sofa near the door was comfortable, and as, moreover, I was slightly oppressed with my study of the costumes downstairs, and considerably soothed by the strains of Madame Tussaud's orchestra, it so fell out that, just as I was nodding how-do-you-do to William the Conqueror, I dropped asleep.

How long I slept I must leave it to those of my readers who have come through the same exertions of mind and body to guess. I had never intended to exceed a short forty winks, because I was aware that only half an hour was left before the time for closing arrived. But when I awoke it was with a start, to find that the place was silent, dark, and deserted. The music had gone, the shuffling of footsteps on the stairs had ceased, the hum of voices had died away. All was so quiet that my own breathing sounded loud and noisy.

I rubbed my eyes and looked round. Yes, I was on the same seat, but not a soul was left in the place--only I--I and the wax figures.

The lights were out, all except one solitary gas-jet over the door of the Chamber of Horrors, which sent a flickering gleam my way, and danced weirdly in and out among the motionless images around me. It was not a comfortable position to be in, and I confess I did not like it. Of course a wax image in the dark is the same as a wax image in the day.

Still, thought I, I would sooner be outside, and--

What was it made me stop short, and sit up in my seat, petrified, and with the blood curdling in my veins?

My eyes, while I meditated, had turned towards William the Conqueror, to whom, as I have already said, I had been in the act of nodding in a friendly way when I dropped asleep.

To my horror, I now perceived that he was, in a most unmistakable manner, nodding at me! Yes, by the feeble light I could see, not only his head move, but even his eyes too! I was helpless and speechless. I could no more move, or call out, or take my eyes off him, than if I had been a wax figure myself.