THE MISSING PRINCE - The Adventures of Boy in the land of Zum
By G. E. Farrow
()
About this ebook
The people of Zum didn’t know what to do and many were seen walking through the streets wringing their hands and behaving most strangely, for you see, Zum had never not had a monarch.
Far away in London, Boy (for that is how everyone calls him) has stayed up late because he and his family are going on a journey. After the sun has gone and the Gaslighter had done his rounds and lit all the streetlights, boy was taken to a waiting carriage. Through the eerily lit streets the horses clipped and clopped towards Kings Cross station. Very soon he was ensconced in a plush leather window seat and the train was steaming its way through North London, through the suburbs and into the moonlit country side…..
He awoke in an unfamiliar room and was told they were in Scarborough. Boy spent the day on the beach making sandcastles and even laughed at the play staged by the Pierrot Theatre company.
At the end of the day, thoroughly tired out, he went to bed right after dinner and was gazing through the window when the moon started moving closer and closer. When it was close enough he could see Pierrot from the Theatre Company sitting astride the yellowy-golden orb.
“I have an invitation for you,” Pierrot said to Boy.
“For me!?” said an incredulous Boy?
“Yes for you. Now come on, hop on,” said Pierrot holding out a hand “we don’t want to be late.
Taking Pierrot’s hand Boy stepped from the window sill onto the moon.
And so began Boy’s moonlit adventures with Pierrot to the land of Zum.
Will Boy be the one who finds the lost Prince and Princess? Just where could they be? What adventures will Boy have and where are they going to stay? Afterall the moon disappears at the end of each day?
To find out for yourself, download this book and join Boy on his many adventures.
10% of the profit from the sale of this book is donated to charities.
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THE MISSING PRINCE - The Adventures of Boy in the land of Zum - G. E. Farrow
THE MISSING PRINCE
By
G E Farrow
With Illustrations By
Harry Furness
And Vignettes by
Dorothy Furness
Originally Published By
Hutchinson & Co., London
[1896]
Resurrected By
Abela Publishing, London
[2020]
The Missing Prince
Typographical arrangement of this edition
© Abela Publishing 2020
This book may not be reproduced in its current format in any manner in any media, or transmitted by any means whatsoever, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, or mechanical ( including photocopy, file or video recording, internet web sites, blogs, wikis, or any other information storage and retrieval system) except as permitted by law without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Abela Publishing,
London
United Kingdom
2020
ISBN-13: 978-8-XXXXXX-XX-X
Books@AbelaPublishing.com
website
www.AbelaPublishing.com
Dedication
Dedicated To
My Little Friend
Ralph Cyril Lockhart Brandon.
Known As Boy.
Preface
MY DEAR LITTLE FRIENDS,—
In the Preface to my last book I told you that when I closed my eyes I seemed to see hundreds of dear Children’s faces turned towards me asking for a story; and now, as so many copies of that book have been sold, I am bound to believe that not hundreds, but thousands, of little friends, to whom I was this time last year a stranger, are expecting another story from my pen.
Some of you may perhaps have seen the very kind things which so many of the papers said about The Wallypug of Why.
Now I am going to tell you a secret, even at the risk of seeming ungrateful to them. It is this. Much as I value their kind opinion, and proud and happy as I am that my book has met with their approval, I value your criticism even more highly than theirs, and I am going to ask you to do me a great favour. I have had so many letters from little friends about The Wallypug of Why
that it has made me greedy, and, like Oliver, I want more. So will you please write me a letter too, your very own self, telling me just what you think of these two books, and also what kind of story you want after my next one, which is to be a School story, called Schooldays at St. Vedast’s,
and which will be published almost as soon as this one is? I did think of writing a story about pet animals, for I am very fond of them; so if you can tell me anything interesting about your dogs or cats, rabbits, or other favourites, I may perhaps find room for the account in my book. You can always address letters to me in this way, and then they will be sure to reach me wherever I am:—
"Mr. G. E. Farrow,
"C/o Messrs. Hutchinson & Co.,
Publishers,
34, Paternoster Row,
London, E.C.
Besides being a very great pleasure to me to receive these letters from you, it will help you, I hope, to feel that the Author of this book is in a measure a personal friend.
You will be pleased, I am sure, to see that Mr. Harry Furniss has again been able to give us some of his delightful pictures, and that his clever little daughter Dorothy has helped him.
I see that she has drawn, at the beginning of this Preface, some little folks with letters in their hands. I hope that they are for me, and that there are some from you amongst them.
Your affectionate Friend,
George E. Farrow, Author.
Contents
CHAPTER I.—Pierrot And The Moon.
CHAPTER II.—The Party At Sand Castle.
CHAPTER III.—Professor Crab.
CHAPTER IV.—M.D. And The Doctor’s Bill.
CHAPTER V.—The Councillors Of Zum.
CHAPTER VI.—Mrs. Martha Matilda Nimpky.
CHAPTER VII.—A Strange Parliament.
CHAPTER VIII.—Oh Ah, The Magician.
CHAPTER IX.—The Election.
CHAPTER X.—Kings And Queens Galore.
CHAPTER XI.—What Happened In The Grim Forest.
CHAPTER XII.—The Conclusion Of The Whole Matter.
The Missing Prince
CHAPTER I
Pierrot and the Moon
OY was far too excited to go to sleep, so he lay gazing at the crescent Moon which shone through the window opposite his bed and thought of all the wonderful things which had happened on this most eventful of days. To begin quite at the beginning, he had, in his thoughts, to go right back to yesterday, when he had been sent to bed in the middle of the day, so that he might be rested for his long night journey to Scarborough with his Uncle. Then after having been asleep all the afternoon, he had been awakened in the evening just about the time when he usually went to bed, and, treat of treats, had been allowed to sit up to the table to late dinner with his Aunt and Uncle.
Soon after dinner they had started for their long drive to the Station through the brightly lighted streets which Boy had never before seen at night time, and when at last King’s Cross Station was reached, they had been hurried into a carriage with rugs and pillows and were soon steaming through the suburbs of London.
Boy had found plenty of amusement in watching the flashing lights out of the window till, as the train got further and further away from the town, the lights became fewer and fewer, and he drew the curtain and settled himself comfortably in a corner with a pillow and a rug.
His Uncle was deeply buried in his paper, and Boy did not like to disturb him, so he picked up Punch, which had fallen to the floor, and began to look at the pictures. He must have fallen asleep soon afterwards, for he did not remember anything else till they reached York, where they had to change trains, and where they had hot coffee and sandwiches. Then when the train started again Boy’s Uncle had pointed out to him the square towers of York Minster showing clearly against the green and gold sky of early morning; and then Boy had gone to sleep again and did not wake up till they reached Scarborough, where a carriage was waiting to take them to the Hotel. Boy looked about him with great interest as they drove through the half-deserted streets, for it was still very early in the morning. He could see the ruins of an old castle at the end of the street, and as they turned a corner the sea flashing in the morning sunlight burst into view.
Boy thought that he had never before seen anything so beautiful. There was the great bay with the castle at one end and Oliver’s Mount at the other, the quay and the little lighthouse, and a lot of ships, while out at sea was a whole fleet of brown sailed fishing-smacks coming in with their spoil of fish. Hundreds of sea-gulls were wheeling round and round uttering their peculiarly shrill cry, and altogether it was a most beautiful sight.
Boy’s Uncle had stopped the carriage for a few moments so that they might admire it, and then they had driven to the Hotel at the top of the cliffs, and after having a refreshing wash had gone down to a large room where a number of ladies and gentlemen were having breakfast Boy had been far too excited to eat much, particularly as his Uncle had promised him a pony ride at eleven. So as soon as breakfast was over he had stood by the window watching the people passing, till oh! joy of joys! there came to the door of the Hotel the loveliest little pony with such a long tail and mane and his Uncle’s big chestnut horse Rajah, which had been sent down by train the day before.
What a delightful time it had been, to be sure, as they rode down through the Valley Park to the seashore, and what a splendid canter they had on the hard sand! And then as they rode slowly back again Boy had noticed some beautiful sand castles which the children were building on the shore, collecting pennies in boxes for the hospitals from those who stopped to admire them; lovely castles with flags and trees and toy animals out of Noah’s Ark, and quaint little rustic bridges and garden seats in the gardens belonging to them, and Boy had thought how jolly it would be if one could be small enough to walk about in them. Then he had heard someone singing, and his Uncle had taken him to where a large crowd was gathered around some curiously dressed people in white costumes with big black buttons and with big frills around their necks and at their wrists; they wore black skull caps with white conical caps over these. They were called, so Boy found out, the Pierrot Troupe, and one of them was singing about a little Tin Soldier who was in love with a beautiful Doll with eyes that opened and shut with a wire, but who would not have anything to say to him because he was only marked one-and-nine, while another soldier on the shelf above him was marked two-and-three, till presently someone changed the labels and marked him two-and-three, and the other one one-and-nine. Then the little Doll had altered her mind, and had promised to marry him, and had forsaken the other poor fellow, who was now marked only one-and-nine. Boy