THIS IS THE STORY of the most extraordinary child who ever stuck his tongue out at the Prime Minister. His name was Nicobobinus [Nick-Oh-Bob-In-Us]. He lived a long time ago, in a city called Venice, and he could do anything.
Of course, not everybody knew he could do anything. In fact only his best friend, Rosie, knew he could, and nobody took any notice of anything Rosie said, because she was always having wild ideas anyway.
One day, for example, Rosie said to Nicobobinus: ‘Let’s put a rabbit down the Doge’s trousers!’
‘Don’t be silly,’ said Nicobobinus. ‘The Doge doesn’t wear trousers.’
‘Yes he does,’ said Rosie. ‘And we ought to boil his hat up and give it to the pigeons.’
‘Anyway, who is the Doge?’ asked Nicobobinus.
‘How d’you know he doesn’t wear trousers if you don’t know who he is?’ exclaimed Rosie (not unreasonably in my opinion).
Nicobobinus peered across the water and muttered: ‘He doesn’t live in the Doge’s palace, does he?’
‘Gosh!’ said Rosie. ‘I’ve never been fishing with a real genius before.’
‘But he’s the most important man in Venice!’ exclaimed Nicobobinus.
‘They’ve got universities for people like you, you know,’ said Rosie, and she yanked a small carp out of the canal.
‘What have you got against him?’ asked Nicobobinus, as he watched her pulling out the hook with a well-practised twist.
‘He’s just extended his palace,’ said Rosie, looking at her fish. It was about nine inches long.
‘So?’ said Nicobobinus, wondering why he never caught anything longer than his nose – which wasn’t particularly long anyway.
‘Well, he extended it all over my granny’s house. That’s what!’ said Rosie.
‘And now your poor old gran hasn’t got anywhere to live?’ asked Nicobobinus sympathetically.
‘Oh yes she has! She’s living with us, and I can’t stand it!’ replied Rosie.
Nicobobinus pretended, for a moment, that he had a bite. Then he said: ‘But how will putting a rabbit down the Doge’s trousers help?‘
‘It won’t,’ said Rosie. ‘But it’ll make me feel a lot better. Come on!’
‘You don’t really mean it?’ gasped Nicobobinus.
‘No,’ said Rosie. We haven’t got a rabbit – so it’ll have to be a fish.’
‘But that’s our supper!’ said Nicobobinus. ‘And anyway, they’ve got guards and sentries and dogs all over the Doge’s palace. We’d never get in.’
Rosie looked Nicobobinus straight in the eyes and said: ‘Nicobobinus! It’s fun!’
Some time later, when they were hiding under some nets on one of the little fishing boats that ferried people from the Giudecca to St Mark’s Square, when the weather was too bad for fishing, Nicobobinus was still less certain.
‘My granny says that where her kitchen used to be, they’ve built this fancy balcony,’ Rosie was whispering, ‘and she reckons any thief could climb in by day or night.’
‘They drown thieves in the Grand Canal at midnight,’ groaned Nicobobinus.
‘They’ll never catch us,’ Rosie reassured him.
‘Who’s that under my nets?’ shouted a voice.
‘Leg it!’ yelled Rosie, and she and Nicobobinus jumped overboard!
‘Lucky we’d reached the shore!’ panted Nicobobinus as the two sprinted across St Mark’s Square.
‘Hey! You two!’ yelled the fisherman and gave chase.
Some time later, as Nicobobinus was standing on Rosie’s shoulders pulling himself onto the balcony of the Doge’s palace, he was even less certain.
‘Have you got the fish?’ hissed Rosie, as he pulled her up after him.
Nicobobinus could feel it wriggling inside his jerkin.
‘No,’ he replied. ‘It was so unhappy I set it free. It said it didn’t want to get caught by the Doge’s guards in the company of two completely out-of-their-basket idiots like… ’
‘Look!’ said Rosie. ‘Do you see where we are?’
Nicobobinus peered into the room with Rosie and caught his breath. It was a magnificent room, with lacquered gold furniture and elegant paintings on the wall. But that wasn’t what caught the attention of Rosie and Nicobobinus.
‘Do you see?’ exclaimed Rosie.
‘Toys!’ breathed Nicobobinus.
‘We’re in the nursery!’ said Rosie, and she was. She had just climbed in.
Back at home Nicobobinus had just one toy. His uncle had made it for him, and, now he came to think about it, it was more of a plank than a toy. It had four wooden wheels, but the main part of it was definitely a plank. Rosie thought about her two toys, back in the little bare room where she slept with her sisters and her mother and her father and now her granny. One was moth-eaten (that was the doll that had been handed down from sister to sister) and the other was broken (that was a jug that she used to pretend was a crock of gold). But the Doge’s children had: hoops, spinning tops, hobby horses, dolls’ houses, dolls, toy furniture, masks, windmills, stilts (of various heights), rattles, building blocks, boxes, balls and a swing.
‘There’s only one thing,’ whispered Rosie.
‘What’s that?’ asked Nicobobinus as he picked up one of the hoops.
‘The Doge hasn’t got any children,’ said Rosie, but before she could say anything else, one of them walked in through the door.
‘Hasn’t he?’ said Nicobobinus.
‘Well I didn’t think he had,’ said Rosie.
During this last exchange, the little girl who had just walked in through the door had turned pale, turned on her heel, and finally turned into a human cannonball, that streaked off back the way it had come.
‘Quick!’ cried Rosie. ‘She’ll give the alarm!’
And before Nicobobinus could stop her, Rosie was off in pursuit. So Nicobobinus followed … What else could he do?
Well, they hadn’t got more than half-way across the adjoining room, when they both noticed it was rather full of people.
‘Hi, everyone!’ yelled Nicobobinus, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say.
‘That’s torn it!’ muttered Rosie. And on they dashed into the next chamber.
The Doge, who had been one of the people the room was full of, sat up in bed and said: ‘Who are they?
‘I’ll have them executed straightaway,’ said the Prime Minister.
‘No, no! Apprehend them,’ said the Doge.
‘At once,’ said the Chief of the Guards.
‘My clothes!’ said the Doge, and sixteen people rushed forward with sixteen different bits of the Doge’s clothing. Getting out of bed for the Most Important Person In Venice in 1545 was a lot more elaborate than it is for you or me… at least, it’s more elaborate than the way I get up – I don’t really know about you.
Anyway, by this time, Nicobobinus and Rosie had bolted through six more rooms, down a flight of stairs and locked themselves in a cupboard.
‘Phew!’ said Rosie. ‘Sorry about this.’
‘That’s all right,’ said Nicobobinus.
‘Please don’t hurt me,’ said a third voice. Nicobobinus and Rosie looked at each other in astonishment (although, as it was pitch-dark in the cupboard, neither of them realized they did).
‘Who’s that?’ asked Nicobobinus.
‘I’m not allowed to play with other children,’ said the voice. ‘My nurse says they might hurt me or kidnap me.’
‘Don’t be daft!’ exclaimed Rosie. ‘Children don’t kidnap other children.’
‘Don’t they?’ said the other occupant of the cupboard.
‘No. And we’re not going to hurt you,’ said Nicobobinus.
‘Then why are you here?’
‘A lark,’ said Rosie.
‘What’s that?’ asked the girl.
‘You know …’ said Nicobobinus, ‘fun.’
‘Fun?’ said the little girl. ‘What’s that?’
‘Oh dear,’ muttered Rosie.
‘Stick with us and you’ll see,’ said Nicobobinus.
‘All right,’ said the girl. ‘My name’s Beatrice.’
But before either Nicobobinus or Rosie could tell Beatrice their names, there was a thundering as dozens of people went storming and clattering past the cupboard shouting things like: ‘There they are!’ and ‘No! That’s not them!’ and ‘Ow! Take that spear out of my ear!’ and ‘Quick! This way!’ and ‘Look in there!’ and ‘Help me! I’ve fallen over!’ and so on.
When they’d all finally gone and it was quiet again, Nicobobinus, Rosie and their new friend stuck their heads out of the cupboard. The coast was clear, except for the guard who had fallen over.
‘Give me a hand would you?’ he asked. ‘This armour’s so heavy that once you fall over it’s very difficult to get back on your feet again.’
‘Doesn’t that make it rather hard to fight in?’ said Nicobobinus as they helped him to stand upright.
‘Hopeless,’ admitted the guard. ‘But it is very expensive. Now, have you seen two children go past here?’
‘Yes,’ said Beatrice. ‘They went that way!’ And she pointed down the passageway.
‘Thanks!’ said the guard and ran off as fast as his expensive armour would allow him. He’d got round the corner before he must have realized he’d made a mistake, for there was a crash and a muffled curse, as he tried to stop and turn, but fell over again instead.
‘Come on!’ yelled Rosie.
‘Is this fun?’ asked Beatrice, as they ran up another staircase and onto a long balcony and looked out over a narrow street.
‘Are you enjoying it?’ asked Nicobobinus.
‘So-so,’ said Beatrice.
‘Then it’s probably fun,’ said Nicobobinus.
‘Oh! Stop wittering, you two!’ exclaimed Rosie. ‘And help me down off here!’ Rosie was already climbing over the balustrade and hanging from the balcony.
‘That’s too far a drop!’ exclaimed Beatrice.
‘You wait!’ grinned Nicobobinus. ‘We’ve done this before.’ He whipped his belt off, and before you could say ‘Venice and chips!’ Rosie was clinging to the end, and being lowered down into the street.
‘Oo-er!’ said Beatrice.
‘Come on!’ called Rosie, as Nicobobinus hauled his belt back up again. ‘It’s fine!’
‘Are you sure this is fun?’ whispered Beatrice.
‘Well it beats enjoying yourself!’ shouted Nicobobinus, as several guards suddenly appeared at the far end of the balcony.
‘Hurry!’ he said, and thrust the end of the belt into her hand.
‘There they are!’ shouted one of the guards. And without giving another thought, Beatrice followed Rosie down into the street.
‘Nicobobinus!’ yelled Rosie. ‘How are you going to get down?’
‘I’ll be OK!’ yelled Nicobobinus, although his main thought, as he avoided the spears of the charging guards by ducking through a window, was actually ‘Cripes!’
‘I thought you’d done this before?’ said Beatrice as she and Rosie legged it down the street.
‘Well… maybe not from quite such a high balcony,’ admitted Rosie, and they disappeared round the corner.
Nicobobinus meanwhile had made a discovery. He had discovered that the window that looked out onto the long balcony that looked over the Calle de San Marco was the window of the office of the Prime Minister. He also made a second discovery: it was office hours. The Prime Minister was sitting on a sort of throne, holding an audience with several rather scruffy individuals who looked scared out of their wits.
‘… and then take their heads off,’ the Prime Minister was saying, as Nicobobinus backed in through the window and landed on the floor in front of him.
‘Ah!’ smiled the Prime Minister, signalling to one of his guards, ‘another customer.’
Some time later, Nicobobinus found himself chained and shackled and being dragged into the Grand Audience Chamber of the Doge of Venice himself. It was a particularly magnificent room, and nowadays people come from all over the world to gaze up at the ornate ceiling and stare at the fine furnishings, while a guide talks too quickly in a language they can’t understand and tells them about all the boring and pompous men and women with famous names that have come and gone through the doors of that famous place. But one story they never tell (and I don’t know why) is the story I’m telling you now.
At that particular moment, however, the one thing Nicobobinus was not interested in was the magnificent decor of the Grand Audience Chamber. His one and only concern was how to get out again as quickly as possible (which, come to think of it, is probably what most of today’s tourists are thinking too!).
‘Bring the boy here,’ yawned the Doge (who was actually wishing he was back in bed).
‘We could start by simply cutting his feet off, and then move on up to his knees…’ the Prime Minister was whispering in the Doge’s ear as Nicobobinus was thrown onto the floor in front of them.
All eyes were upon him, and an excited buzz went around the Audience Chamber. The Doge looked at him for several moments and then said: ‘What are your demands?’
Nicobobinus thought he hadn’t heard right, so he said: ‘I beg your pardon, …Your Highness?’
‘Where is she?’ shrieked the Prime Minister, and suddenly everyone in the room was muttering and shouting the same thing.
‘Silence!’ commanded the Doge. Then he turned to Nicobobinus once more and said: ‘You have kidnapped my daughter. I will give you what you want, providing you return her at once – unharmed.’
Nicobobinus was just about to say: ‘No! I haven’t kidnapped your daughter’, but he didn’t. Instead, he looked around at all the heavy, brooding faces, the wine-soaked noses and the sunken eyes of all the important, pompous folk of Venice, and he said: ‘I want one thing.’
‘Yes?’ said the Doge.
‘And it isn’t for me,’ went on Nicobobinus.
‘It’s for your master,’ assumed the Doge – his voice cracking between concern for his daughter and contempt for Nicobobinus.
‘No,’ replied Nicobobinus, ‘it’s for your daughter.’ A gasp went up around the room. ‘It’s something you must give Beatrice.’
The Doge couldn’t speak for a moment, but eventually he managed to say: ‘And what is it?’
‘Fun,’ said Nicobobinus.
‘Fun?’ said the Doge.
‘Fun?’ said all the pompous and important people of Venice.
‘Fun!’ said another voice, and there was Beatrice, the Doge’s daughter, standing at the entrance to the Grand Audience Chamber, holding Rosie’s hand. ‘We’ve been having fun!’
Well, to cut a long story short, the Prime Minister still wanted to chop off Nicobobinus’s and Rosie’s heads and drown them in the Grand Canal at midnight, until the Lord Chief Advocate pointed out (after consulting various medical authorities) that you can’t drown someone once you’ve cut their head off.
‘Then just drown them like the rats they are!’ exclaimed the Prime Minister.
‘But they’re only children,’ said the Doge’s mother.
‘That’s beside the point!’ screamed the Prime Minister. ‘It’s the principle that matters! If you don’t drown them, soon you’ll have all the riff-raff of Venice climbing into the palace and making demands!’
But the Doge had fallen asleep, and his mother ordered that Beatrice should decide what was to become of Nicobobinus and Rosie. Beatrice said they had to come and play with her every Monday. And so that was that.
Later that evening, as the Doge was getting into bed, and all the assistants were gone, he said to his wife: ‘You know, my dear, a most extraordinary thing… Just now… Do you know what I found in my trousers?’
At about the same time, Nicobobinus and Rosie were sitting on Nicobobinus’s doorstep laughing and laughing as Nicobobinus described how he had managed to slip the wriggling fish past the Doge’s belt and into his trousers while the Doge’s mother was kissing him goodnight.
‘But one thing puzzles me,’ said Rosie. ‘When did you stick your tongue out at the Prime Minister?’
‘I didn’t,’ replied Nicobobinus. ‘That happened in a totally different adventure.’
‘Was it the one where we set off to find the Land of Dragons?’ asked Rosie.
‘Ah!’ said Nicobobinus. ‘That would be telling …’