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Updated: August 19, 2024
The Prince married a girl called Westley, and then he was killed in an automobile accident, and his widow went back to America with the kid, to live with her brother. Poineau says he could lay his hand on him any time he pleased." "I hope you won't do anything rash, dear," said his sister comfortably.
"Yes, sir. I told him he ought to come along, but His Highness said he wasn't going to land looking like a tramp comedian." By this time General Poineau had explained matters to the band and they checked the national anthem abruptly in the middle of a bar, with the exception of the cornet player, who continued gallantly by himself till a feeling of loneliness brought the truth home to him.
I want a prince, so I gotta have a prince, and if any gazook makes a noise like a man with a grouch, he'll find himself fired." Miss Scobell turned to her paper again. "Very well, dear," she said. "Just as you please. I'm sure you know best." "Sure!" said her brother. "You're a good guesser. I'll go and beat up old man Poineau right away." Ten days after Mr.
Scobell's visit to General Poineau, John, Prince of Mervo, ignorant of the greatness so soon to be thrust upon him, was strolling thoughtfully along one of the main thoroughfares of that outpost of civilization, Jersey City. He was a big young man, tall and large of limb.
This is where you make your big play. Never mind the chorus gentlemen in the passage. Concentrate yourself on Poineau. What's he talking about? I believe he's come to tell me the people have wakened up. Offer him a cocktail. What's the French for corpse-reviver? Get busy, Crump." The general had begun to speak rapidly, with a wealth of gestures. It astonished John that Mr.
Mervo, having thought the matter over during these years, decided that it had no further use for Prince Charles. Quite quietly, with none of that vulgar brawling which its neighbor, France, had found necessary in similar circumstances, it had struck his name off the pay-roll, and declared itself a republic. The royalist party, headed by General Poineau, had been distracted but impotent.
The next moment it flew open, revealing General Poineau and an assorted group of footmen and other domestics. Excitement seemed to be in the air. General Poineau rushed forward into the room, and flung his arms above his head. "Mon Prince!" he moaned. A perfect avalanche of French burst from the group outside the door. "Crump!" cried John. "Stand by me, Crump! Get busy!
General Poineau, lowering his hand, put on a pair of pince-nez and began to unroll an address of welcome. It was then seen that the young man was Mr. Crump. General Poineau removed his glasses and gave an impatient twirl to his mustache. Mr. "Where's his nibs, Crump?" he enquired. The secretary's reply was swept away in a flood of melody. To the band Mr. Crump's face was strange.
He did not want a cheerful young man in a soft hat and a flannel suit who looked as if at any moment he might burst into a college yell. General Poineau, meanwhile, had embarked on the address of welcome. John regarded him thoughtfully. "I can see," he said to Mr. Scobell, "that the gentleman is making a good speech, but what is he saying? That is what gets past me."
The majority of these remained stolidly silent throughout, but three, more emotional, cheered vigorously as a young man was seen to step on to the gangway, carrying a grip, and make for the shore. General Poineau, a white-haired warrior with a fierce mustache, strode forward and saluted. The Palace Guards presented arms. The band struck up the Mervian national anthem.
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