Life — September 2, 1886 — page 10: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE CHUM DEPOSED. > ROM one or two little remarks over- heard by himat a recent meeting of the Emperors, at which he was pres- ent, Lire’s special Chum to Potentates surmised that there was trouble in store for the Bulgarian monarch, Alexander, and he resolved, if possible, to warn him of his impending fate. The Chum felt that the Battenbergs had suffered enough from the terrible mesalliance of its brother Henry, who married into a Dutch family now resident in England, and drawing a large salary for acting as a Royal Incubus to the Saxon race. With the intention, therefore, of averting a bloodless war, and armed by a special passport from his old friend, Porte, of Turkey, the Chum set out for Sofia, where he arrived the day before the recent crisis. The King, attended by the army, was on hand to meet him, and the Royal Band played ‘ Hail io the Chief” on a harmonica, as with a rush and a roar, the Correspondent’s special mule rolled into the depot. After all the little commonplaces of the Royal greeting, in which the Chum was kissed on his bald spot in true Oriental fashion, were done with, the Royal party entered the State conveyance, and the Army, seating himself on the box, drove them off amidst the cheers of the populace, who was walking with his wife on the main avenue. The band, seated behind on the rumble, blew ‘+ Sweet Violets” into the Potentate’s ears, and the Correspondent was so moved to think that all this was to be ruthlessly destroyed, that he indulged in a personai immolation of the musician rather than permit him to live on and suffer from the events of the morrow. ‘The two-story Queen Anne shed that serves as a palace to the Bul- garian Royal Family was reached in short order, and as the banquet was being cooked in the State apartment, the Chum was shown up a lad- der to the Council Chamber, where he took up his temporary quarters. Shortly after he had unpacked, the King stuck his head up through the trap-door in the floor, and asked if anything was wanted. ‘Yes, Aleck,” replied the Chum, *‘ there is something wanted. Have you saved anything out of your civil list ?” “ Not very much,” replied the King, sadly. * Only seven dollars. You see I pay that Army five dollars a month, and board him. When there is no war on hand he keeps the palace clean, and does chores about the place for me. He'd be dear at board wages, though. It’s a mighty expensive thing to be a monarch, Carlyle, and don't you let it slip your mind.” ‘What will you sell out for?” was asked. ‘Well, I don't know. The crown is worth over twenty dollars for old metal. I think I ought to get something for the good will of the concern.” : “Aleck,” replied the Correspondent, ‘‘ the good will of this concern isn’t worth a continental red. Your Prime Minister has orders to de- pose you to-morrow, and the emissaries of the Czar have undermined your Army with the only square meal he has had since you've been in command. You are betrayed and I have come to save you.” The King, in his agitation, fell off the ladder, and to expedite mat- ters the Chum slid down the bell rope and joined him in the banquet hall below. “*Wh-wh-what'll I d-d-do ?” cried the trembling monarch. “Shave off that hair mattress you wear on your chin first and swap places with me. T’ll reign in your stead, and you as the Chum T has been rumored about town during the last week that Rutherford B. Hayes, emulating Mr. Tilden, will leave the bulk of his fortune to three trustees, who are to erect a Free National Hen-Coop for the encouragement of the col- ored people of the South. to Potentates may gather in your crops and make for the front- ier.” The Chum wishes to say right here that while en route for Sophia he allowed his beard to grow, and his appearance is now such that his friends wouldn't know him, or if they did would be ashamed to ac- knowledge it. The consequence is that Alexander and he can't tell each other apart. ‘Noble friend, you have saved my life,” said the King, removing is beard and his Royal Boots with the same razor ; ‘I owe everything to you.” ‘I know that,” said the Chum ; ‘ but I don’t want more than seven dollars — I believe you said that was all you had ?” “It is my all, but it is yours,” said Alexander. “It's sewed up in the lining of my crown, Farewell, forever,” and so saying the ex- King tossed the bauble to his visitor, arrayed himself in the Chum’s garments and fled. The reign of Carlyle Smith I. had begun. Hardly had the dethroned monarch landed on the other side of the frontier, when the Prime Minister entered the Royal Chamber. Car- lyle I. was seated on the throne swinging his legs after the manner of monarchs over the gilded arms thereof. “TL have come, your maje: to announce that the Czar demands your resignation. Man proposes, God disposes and the Autocrat de- poses.” ‘* Indeed,” replied the King with considerable hauteur, ** fling back to thy master my Royal intimation that it will take a derrick to hoist this Monarch from the Throne of his ancestor “Your ancestors didn’t occupy this throne,” replied the Minister. Here was a poser. The embryo King had forgotten that Alexan- der was the whole of his line. “‘Didn't the other King throw in his ancestors with the throne ?” he asked, anxiously. ‘He did not. He didn’t have any himself,” replied the Councillor ; ‘but are you going to depose or not ?”” “Well,” replied the Chum, seeing that the opportunity to slide out gracefully was waiting to be seized, “if there are no ancestors with the throne of course I don’t want it. I can get all the first-hand thrones I want at home, so you can tell the autocrat of all the Rushers that as soon as I can pack up my duds I'll rush.” With this the monarch took off the crown, ripped the money out of the lining, and left the building. He was immediately arrested by the formerly loyal Army, and thrown into adungeon cell for endeavoring to walk off with the National debt, and matters began to look blue enough for him. The charge: was simply a pretext for twisting the monarchical neck. To escape seemed impossible, but a happy thought struck him. Calling the jailer to the door, the deposed Chum asked him for a glass of water, and as a reward for the attention gave him a copy of LIFE. A sound of gurgling hilarity outside shortly told him that his design was accomplished, and the Chum walked forth a free man. ‘The jailor had laughed himself into a fit over the paper, and in the midst of this the escape was made. This is the only reliable account of the recent Bulgarian atrocity. The readers of LIFE are warned that the ex-king has shown the base ingratitude of his class by using the Chum’s name in vain, and under this alias is writing fraudulent interviews with monarchs who are on chummy terms only with the real Carlyle Smith. i | T is reported from the West that the recently-convicted | anarchists are not pleased at the prospect of leaving Chi- | cago for the summer resort in the hereafter that is set aside | for sinners of their sort. | Some men don’t know when they are well off. comicbooks.com