The King of the Eggs [pp. 445-448]

TH E LADIES' REPOSITORY.
his descendant, the native historian to
whom we are indeblted for our facts, that
Peter was particularly vexed by the circumstance that the robbers of late had
committed their depredations at nighttime or dusk, when it was hard to trace,
much more to capture, them. For ourselves, we must confess that the circumstance does not by any means inspire us
with surprise, and that his peculiar vexation at the artfulness of the marauders
leads us to infer that the cautious eggrobbers belonged to the same frank,
open class as those among our housebreakers who perform their vocation on
a bright Summer's afternoon. However
that might be, he remained standing out
of doors in deep meditation till about
midnight, when he was startled by the
sea-fowl, who, with loud cries, flew up
from their nests, convincing him that
mischief was near. He therefore deemed
it expedient to investigate the state of
affairs, and walking round the coast,
found no fewer than seventeen boats anchored a good way inland. All these,
exerting his wonted powers, he pushed
into the sea, and then went homeward,
chuckling with the consciousness that he
had performed a righteous act of vengeance. The "small hours," as we now
call them, had made some progress when
lie reached his residence, but all the
family were sitting up, in great grief, on
account of the loss of one of the children, a little boy, aged four years, who
had followed his father, and had not
been seen since, having probably missed
his way. On the same night a boat belonging to King Peter was also gone.
Nor was the damage done to Listland
confined to this twofold loss. Some of
our readers have, perhaps, already felt
an uneasy doubt as to the wisdom of
Peter's mode of vengeance, and an inclination to surmise that his mental capacity was scarcely commensurate with
his bodily strength. An ordinary householder, aware that his kitchen was occupied by a formidable band of robbers
would scarcely deem it judicious to
double lock his street door, and fling the
key out of the window; yet his policy
would, in principle, be exactly the same
as that pursued by the King of the Eggs.
Peter was undoubtedly a first-rate judge
of wild fowl and their niests, and possibly
he was the one man in the world who,
to use a proverblial expression, could
have taught his grandmother to suck
eggs. But where a knowledge of human
nature, especially the worst side of it,
was required, he was clearly at fault, as
we have already been induced to believe
by the disgust he felt on the discovery
that thieves love to work by night rather
than by day.
Now for the consequence of Peter's
luckless revenge. On the day after the
boats had been sent adrift, outrages altogether unprecedented were committed.
Embittered by their loss, the marauders
were no longer content to take the eggs,
but they also shot birds and roasted
them, not even sparing a very tame species which was regarded as sacred by all
well-disposed people. It was not till
night that the island was well clear of
them, some recovering their boats, and
some being picked up by passing vessels, which they had hailed; and it was
not till night, let us add, that Peter,
brave and strong as he was, ventured to
put his nose out of doors and ascertain
the amount of his loss. Rumors that he
was threatened with a direful retributtion
had reached his ears, and probably he
began even to suspect that a quiet thief
in the dark is, after all, preferable to a
bandit "rowdy," who braves the light of
the sun, especially if he has a number of
comrades. He, at any rate, so far
profited by his day's experience, that he
never again pushed boats into the water
against the will of their owners.
Diligent search was, of course, made
for the missing member of the royal
family; but all was in vain, and years
rolled on without any tidings being received concerning him. Every Summer
the depredations of the egg-stealers became more extensive, and Peter began
to think that every foreign potentate was
his natural enemy.
446
[Nov.,