The Adventures of Baron Trump. Lockwood Ingersoll
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It was, therefore, at once determined to engage thirty-two learned tutors, each tutor to have charge of a separate bump and to do his utmost to enlarge it even if it grew to be a horn.
My father was resolved to leave nothing undone in order to develop my mental powers to the utmost limit. I said nothing either for or against the scheme.
In one short year I had learned all that the thirty-two tutors could teach me, and, what is more, I had taught each one of them fifty things which he had not known before, and which I had learned while traveling in foreign lands with my parents.
One fine morning to the great surprise of my thirty-two tutors I discharged the whole of them.
The elder baron at my suggestion now sent a bill to each tutor for services rendered him by me.
Each tutor refused to pay.
The elder baron, at my suggestion, now caused legal process to be served upon each one of them.
The court upon hearing my testimony rendered an opinion which covered five thousand pages of legal cap paper and required a whole week to read, in which they held that each thing which I had taught to each one of my thirty-two tutors was so remarkably strange and peculiar that in the eye of the law it was worth at least one hundred dollars. That made the bill of each tutor amount to five thousand dollars, or one hundred and sixty thousand dollars in all.
The court then adjourned for a year, all three judges being so worn out mentally and physically as to need a twelve months’ rest before taking up any other business.
THE THREE WEARY JUDGES AS THEY APPEARED AT THE CLOSE OF MY SUIT AGAINST MY TUTORS.
CHAPTER IV.
How the elder Baron lost flesh worrying about the investment of my money. Effect of his anxiety on the rest of the household. I take the matter in hand and devise ways to increase my fortune. I become extremely wealthy. When eight years of age I am seized with an uncontrollable desire to visit far-away lands, and begin to pack up. The elder Baron objects. How I set to work to get his consent. Wild doings of my playfellows. How we stormed the castle, broke up the hawking, ruined the fox hunt, summoned the ten doctors, and set fire to the neighboring fields. The elder Baron grows weary of my doings and consents to let me go. My delight and Bulger’s joy.
THE ELDER BARON AND BARONESS GREW VERY THIN.
The question which now occupied my father’s mind to the exclusion of all other thoughts was how to invest this large sum of money, so that upon my attaining my twenty-first year I would be provided with a sufficiently large income to live as a baron should—particularly when he belonged to so famous a family as ours.
The fact of the matter is, my father permitted this question to prey upon his peace of mind to such an extent that he lost flesh perceptibly.
My mother, too, seeing his lamentable condition began to fret and worry to such a degree, that she likewise became greatly emaciated. With their loss of flesh naturally their appetites dwindled and little or no food was provided; or, anyway, no more than was just sufficient to satisfy Bulger’s and my wants.
Whereupon the servants began to lose flesh, both the indoor and outdoor ones; and in their desperate attempt to keep body and soul together, the horses and cattle were fed upon short rations, and the consequence was, they, too, soon began to fall away.
So it grew to be quite a serious sight to see my poor father and mother reduced to mere skin and bones, driven about the country by mere shadows for coachman and footman, and drawn by four horses whose bones fairly rattled under their skins when they were coaxed or beaten into a lazy trot.
Bulger and I alone retained our plumpness and good spirits. At length I determined to interfere and put a speedy end to this deplorable state of affairs. I exacted from the elder baron a solemn promise that he would follow my directions to the letter and not raise any objections, no matter how wild or unreasonable they might appear to him, or to my mother.
OUR FAMILY COACHMAN BECOMES NOTHING BUT SKIN AND BONE.
Then bidding him to partake of some good, succulent food, retire early and get a nice long sleep, I saluted him respectfully and said:
“Baron, until to-morrow morning!”
I had scarcely finished my breakfast when my door opened and the elder baron walked into the room.
He looked much refreshed. The color had returned to his cheek, the gleam to his eye.
He was already a different man.
“Here, gracious Sir,” I began, handing him a parchment roll, “is a list of all the best known almanac makers in our land. Have interviews with them at once and purchase from them the right to furnish weather prognostications for the coming year!”
The elder baron began to expostulate. “Baron!” I remarked sternly, raising my hand, “a true Knight has but one word to give!”
He was silent and motioned me to continue.
I did so as follows:
“Respected parent, when you have secured this right from each of them, return to me.”
In a few days my father had accomplished his mission.
He entered my room and put into my hands the needful concessions from every noted almanac maker in the land.
Again I bade him refresh himself thoroughly, get a good night’s rest and see me in the morning.
As Bulger and I were returning from breakfast the elder baron presented himself at the door of my apartments.
He looked strong and well. His face had filled out again and his step had recovered its old-time elasticity.
Again I placed a roll of parchment in his hands, and said to him:
“Scatter the contents of that parchment evenly and plentifully throughout each almanac, on the pages devoted to the months of November, December, January, and February.”
He looked at me inquiringly, and his lips began to move.
“Noble Sir!” said I, ere a sound had issued from his mouth, “in our family, knights have always been without fear and without reproach.” He bent his lofty form in silence and withdrew.
Possibly the reader may have a little curiosity to know the contents of the parchment roll which I placed in the hands of the elder baron on this occasion.
If brevity be the soul of wit, it was witty. If a fair round hand be the garb of truth, it was truthful. Be this as it may choose to be, the words which my pen had traced on that parchment roll, read as follows:
“All signs point to an extremely cold Winter.” “Indications are that the coming Winter will be the severest for half a century.” “Forecasts all give the same answer—a Winter of exceptional length and bitter coldness.” “Most skilled prognosticators agree in predicting a degree of low temperature rarely reached in these latitudes.” “About this time expect unusual cold.” “Protect plants.” “Now look well to your winter vegetables.” “Secure them from the extreme frost.” “Double your supply of winter fuel.” “Now look for fierce snow-storms.” “Expect bitter cold weather during all this month.” “Prepare for most unusual hail storms.” “Be on your guard for sudden and penetrating north winds.” “House cattle warmly for all this month.” “Beware of deadly blizzards, they will come with a furious onset.”
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