Graham's Magazine Vol XXXII No. 1 January 1848Various
General
Graham's Magazine Vol XXXII No. 1 January 1848
Various
Literature -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals
Then the valiant prince drew his sword and gave Master Whipswitchem a
great blow under the short-ribs, which he took it for granted would
cut him in two; but the sword rebounded as if it had struck on an
empty bladder, while the little imp only bounded upward about three
yards, alighting in the same place as before, and crying out, "Ho-ho!
hah-hah!" At this rate, thought Prince Violet, I shall never get to
the end of my journey. Still he repeated his blows, at each one of
which the pestiferous little imp only jumped higher and laughed
louder, and the gallant steed only snorted, pawed, and stamped more
vehemently, until both steed and master became quite exhausted. The
latter then resorted to artifice, seeing that force was unavailing. So
putting up his sword, he affected to expostulate with his troublesome
companion on the impropriety of his conduct, watching at the same time
for an opportunity of laying hold of him. When he seemed off his
guard, and was crying "Ho-ho! ha-hah!" with infinite glee, the prince
suddenly throwing himself forward, seized him by the long nose, and
after holding him up kicking in the air for a few moments--for he was
as light as a feather--with a sudden jerk pitched him away out into
the river, where, after bobbing up and down some half a dozen times,
and crying "Ho-ho! ha-hah!" he disappeared. "Ho-ho! ha-hah!" cried the
prince, "I think I have done Master Whipstichem's business this time."
After which he proceeded gayly on his journey.
Before, however, he had time to enjoy the victory, his gallant steed
suddenly began to rear up before, and then to kick up behind with
great violence. The prince clapped his hand on his trusty blade,
thinking he was approaching the giant, but on looking round in every
direction could see neither castle nor draw-bridge. Indeed nothing
visible seemed to justify the horse in his unseemly gambols, and the
prince accused his gallant steed of being in league with his enemies,
when happening to look over his shoulder, who should he see but Master
Whipswitchem seated quietly on the crupper, and spurring away with an
old rusty nail he had fixed in the heel of his shoe, while he held by
the horse's tail for a bridle. "I swear by the eyes of my beautiful
gold-fish," cried the prince, "but this is too bad!" And then he
attempted to dislodge the pestilent imp, by thrusting his elbow into
his back; but the little caitiff every time bounced up like a
tennis-ball, and the next instant was in his seat, crying, "Ho-ho!
ha-ha!" louder than ever. This time he was too cunning for the prince;
for knowing by experience that his nose was the most exposed part of
his outworks, he kept his back to the prince, and his face toward the
tail of the horse. At the expiration of an hour the prince became so
worried that he could scarcely lift his hand to his head, and his
horse so exhausted that he could kick no more. At length, however,
while the little caitiff was spurring and laughing away with great
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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