"Sire, we could not find the island. Unhappily we had mislaid--" and
then the naval officer paused--
"Your charts and field-glasses?" queried His Majesty.
"No, Sire," was the reply. Then, after some hesitation, the chief of
the German sailors continued, "The fact is, Your Majesty, I had lost
my microscope, and--" But further explanation was drowned in the sound
of saluting artillery. And the remainder of the day was devoted (by
those who could find room on the island) in equal proportions to smoke
and enthusiasm.
* * * * *
IN THE KNOW.
(_BY MR. PUNCH'S OWN PROPHET._)
Last week I published a dispatch conveying to me the exalted approval
of H.S.H. the Grand Duke of PFEIFENTOPF. The closing words of
His Serene Highness's gracious letter informed me that I had been
appointed a Knight of the Honigthau Order, one of the most ancient
and splendid orders known to chivalry.
When HUNDSVETTER VON VOGELANG, of whom the ancient Minnesingers relate
that in his anger he was wont to breathe forth fire from his mouth
and smoke from his nostrils, when, as I say, the valiant and gigantic
HUNDSVETTER, with his band of faithful retainers (amongst whom one
of our own CAVENDISHES--_der Zerschnittens_ as they called him, found
a place), was assailed in his ancestral Castle of Meerschaum by the
wild hordes of the Turkish Zig-'arets, it is said that, with one
aged attendant, he mounted the topmost tower, prepared, if no sign of
succour showed itself, to cast himself to the ground or perish in the
attempt.
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