Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 5Sylvester, Charles Herbert
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Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 5
Sylvester, Charles Herbert
Children's literature; Literature -- Collections
A most ingenious artist, according to my directions, in three weeks
finished for me a wooden chamber, of sixteen foot square, and twelve
high, with sash windows, a door, and two closets, like a London
bedchamber. The board that made the ceiling was to be lifted up and down
by two hinges, to put in a bed, ready furnished by her majesty's
upholsterer, which Glumdalclitch took out every day to air, made it with
her own hands, and letting it down at night, locked up the roof over me.
A workman, who was famous for little curiosities, undertook to make me
two chairs, with backs and frames, of a substance not unlike ivory, and
two tables, with a cabinet to put my things in. The room was quilted on
all sides, as well as the floor and the ceiling, to prevent any accident
from the carelessness of those who carried me, and to break the force of
a jolt when I went in a coach. I desired a lock for my door, to prevent
rats and mice from coming in. The smith made the smallest that ever was
seen among them, for I have known a larger at the gate of a gentleman's
house in England. I made a shift to keep the key in a pocket of my own,
fearing Glumdalclitch might lose it.
_III. Adventures at the Royal Court_
I should have lived happily enough in that country if my littleness had
not exposed me to several ridiculous and troublesome accidents; some of
which I shall venture to relate. Glumdalclitch often carried me into the
gardens of the court in a smaller box, and would sometimes take me out
of it, and hold me in her hand, or set me down to walk. I remember the
queen's dwarf followed us one day into those gardens, and my nurse
having set me down, he and I being close together, near some dwarf apple
trees, I must needs show my wit, by a silly allusion between him and the
trees, which happens to hold in their language as it does in ours.
Whereupon, the malicious rogue, watching his opportunity when I was
walking under one of them, shook it directly over my head, by which a
dozen apples, each of them near as large as a Bristol barrel, came
tumbling about my ears; one of them hit me on the back as I chanced to
stoop, and knocked me down flat on my face; but I received no other
hurt, and the dwarf was pardoned at my desire, because I had given the
provocation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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