KING DUNCE
by Atha Westbury · from Australian fairy tales
Adapted Version
Noel liked to dream big dreams, but he didn't like to learn his ABCs. Noel was a boy. He sat in school. He did not like his lessons. He liked to draw kings. He wanted to be a king. He did not want to learn.
The Teacher slept in his chair. A small man came in. He wore bright armor. He had a red feather. He bowed to Noel. "You are King," he said. "You will be King of Shadowland. I am Sir Knight. Come with me."
Noel was very happy. He jumped from his stool. He followed Sir Knight. They went outside. They flew very fast. Hills went by. Lakes went by. It was a magical ride. Noel felt excited.
They came to a new land. It was very pretty. Many people were there. They looked at Noel. They cheered for him. Noel sat on a throne. It was made of flowers. He felt very special.
Sir Knight gave Noel a paper. It was a special message. Noel must read it. He looked at the words. He did not know them. Noel felt very sad. He could not read the paper.
Noel told Sir Knight. "I cannot read," he said. The people heard him. They looked at each other. They were very quiet. Noel felt shame. He felt very small.
The people looked sad. They were disappointed. They whispered softly. "A king should read," they said. They did not cheer now. Noel felt bad. He felt very sorry.
The people helped Noel down. They took his king clothes. They put a straw crown on him. It was not a gold crown. Noel felt very sad. He wished he could read.
Noel felt very small. He felt very bad. He wished he learned his letters. He wished he tried hard. He wanted to read. He wanted to write. Learning was important.
Noel wobbled on his stool. He slipped a little. He made a sound. The Teacher woke up. Noel was still in school. It was all a dream.
Noel learned a very important lesson that day. He decided to try his best at school. Soon, he could read many wonderful books! He felt very proud.
Original Story
KING DUNCE.
Only a careless, stupid boy perched on a high stool within the schoolroom, trying to learn his lesson, long after his companions had been dismissed to their several homes. Only the biggest dunce at Slate-em’s Academy, who wouldn’t try, like other boys, to master his tasks—not because he hadn’t the ability to do so, but because he wanted to be a King. Yes, dear readers, Noel Biffin, son of Jack Biffin, the tin-smith, wanted to be a King. Nothing less would satisfy him. No, not even the rank of Duke or Prince; so, instead of minding his lessons, young Biffin drew Kings on his slate and in his copy-book, and was therefore compelled to ride the wooden horse after school hours.
It was a very beautiful evening, with a grand sunset glow flooding Slate-em’s Academy, and wrapping the Dunce round and round as with an amber-coloured mantle, orange tinted. The old usher, nodding in his chair, was quite unconscious of the halo which played round and about his bald, venerable head, and made him appear for one brief moment like one of the Apostles. The good, patient old man was tired with the heat, and weary with the incessant chatter of the boys, and so he dozed in comfort, and saw not the wee, shapely creature who entered at the window and approached the boy as he stood upon the stool and bent the knee before him. Although small, the stranger was very handsome, and decked from head to heel in bright, glittering armour, with a crimson plume adorning his helmet.
“May it please your gracious Majesty,” he said, doffing his helmet, “my name is Popgun—Sir Guy Fawkes Popgun, Knight—one of your Majesty’s subjects from the realm of Shadowland.” The Dunce nearly fell from the stool in amazement at the strange words. He looked towards the still sleeping master, and from him to the armour-clad Knight at his feet, and replied in a low tone, “Hush! Don’t speak so loud. I haven’t learnt my lesson yet; if he wakens he’ll thrash me. Now, what do you want?”
“Pardon, your liege,” rejoined the Knight respectfully, “I am sent as ambassador from the good people of Shadowland to inform your Majesty that you have been unanimously elected monarch of our wide and spacious dominions, and I beg that it may please you to allow me to conduct you thither without delay.”
“A King! Am I really a King after all?” cried Biffin, jumping from the stool.
“Every inch a King, your Majesty,” replied Sir Guy Fawkes Popgun, replacing his headpiece. “Will your liege follow me?”
“Stop, where is Shadowland?” inquired the boy.
Australian Fairy Tales] [Page 93.
“Speeding away across the country as swift as the wind.”
“On the borders of Fancy, where dwell my kindred, the Australian elves. Fairyland will have none but a mortal to reign over her. Come, your Majesty.” And with a dignified bearing the Elfin Knight strode past the slumbering usher, and led the newly-elected Majesty of Elfland out at the door, which opened at their approach. Beyond the school, out on the open play-ground, stood two fine-looking emus, splendidly caparisoned, and ready for a journey; and before young Biffin knew what he was about he and his companion were mounted thereon, and were speeding away across the country as swift as the wind. Small townships, hills and valleys, tracts of gloomy forests, and broad lakes appeared before them, and disappeared behind them again, before the boy could say “Jack Robinson.” Indeed, poor Biffin hadn’t breath to say anything, they proceeded so swiftly. At length they came to a large sandy desert on the confines of which rose a chain of lofty mountains. After crossing the desert these mountains looked so steep and high that further progress appeared at an end, but the Knight went to a cave close by and brought forth a pair of flying horses, which flew upward with them in a moment and landed them far away on the other side in safety—and this was Shadowland of the Elfins. What poet’s brain, teeming with strange wild fancies, could give expression to such a scene of loveliness as Noel the Dunce saw here? What travel-stained worshipper of Nature, traversing the girdle of the globe, ever feasted his eyes on a more glorious prospect? Not at Rome, filled as it is with monuments of man; nor at Athens, where Paul found the tablet inscribed, “To the Unknown God”; or on that Ionian Isle, where the inspired John wrote “The Revelation.” Beautiful and sacred are all three to view, but I have feasted my soul on scenes equally grand and sublime in this new land where the Universal Spirit of “Our Father” seemed to rest, and attract the uplifted eyes and the inmost thoughts of the Soul to the Invisible Presence.
The flying steeds alighted in a ravine shut in by walls of fantastic rocks, peaked and turreted like the gable of some old feudal castle. Here a mounted escort, composed of the potent and mighty of the empire, awaited their coming, and led the King upwards to a grassy platform, shaded by a patch of hoary trees, where a throne built of wild-flowers had been erected for his reception. The site commanded a fine view of the surrounding country, and the elected monarch beheld with satisfaction thousands and thousands of his subjects assembled on the plains below to do him homage, and whose cheers and shouts rang far and wide when he ascended the throne to read the proclamation.
From time to time, for generations past, the Elfin Kings had to read their own proclamations, but when young Biffin received the paper from the hands of the Prime Minister his heart sank within him. His progress at school had been so slow that he was unable to read print fluently. How, then, was he to master the contents of the closely-written parchment in his hand? At that moment he would have given all his toys at home, even to his crop-eared pony, to have been able to read writing; but he couldn’t read or spell, nor make anything better than a pot-hook.
“May it please your Majesty to read the proclamation to the people?” whispered Sir Guy Fawkes Popgun in the King’s ear.
“I—I cannot read,” replied his Majesty, trembling with shame and vexation.
“Cannot read!” repeated the courtiers, looking at each other. “Surely your Majesty is jesting.”
“Indeed, gentlemen, I’m afraid I’m a dunce,” replied Biffin sheepishly.
“A dunce, who cannot read, and yet has the silly presumption to be a King!” shouted the fairy populace in a mocking tone. “Hurrah for King Dunce! Long live King Dunce!”
And such is the uncertainty of popular favour in Elfland, that the vast assembly, who but a moment before had exhibited such hearty tokens of good-will, began to hoot and clamour in derision. They pulled the monarch from his throne, stripped him of his robes of state, and carried him to a rocky peak, where they doffed his crown and replaced it with a wreath of straw; while their shouts—“Long live King Dunce! Hurrah for King Dunce!”—once more rent the air.
In all his troubles at home, and his canings and disappointments with his lessons at school, our hero never felt so humbled and crestfallen in his life before. He would have given anything to be enabled to read and write well. And this wish would have been easily gratified, had he but paid a little attention to his books while at the Academy; but he hadn’t done so, and the result was his downfall from the proud position he had so long coveted.
What availed his regrets now, when he was led away a prisoner, and placed in a dark cave, guarded by seven monsters, whose bodies were covered with long feathers, and who had heads like monkeys? It availed nothing that they set him hard lessons day and night, beat him with rods, until he was bruised all over, and suffered such pain that he made his escape from the cave. But the monsters were after him across the country, over hill and dale, until he came to the top of the high mountain which overlooked the desert, and the monsters being close behind, there was nothing left for him in his last extremity but to leap for his life and liberty.
And Noel Biffin did leap; but instead of being dashed to pieces, the Dunce came down from his perch on the stool to the floor of the schoolroom, the noise of which roused the usher from his nap, who gave the stupid boy a dose of cane pie and sent him home.
Story DNA
Moral
Ambition without effort or preparation leads to humiliation and failure.
Plot Summary
Noel Biffin, a lazy schoolboy known as 'Dunce' for neglecting his studies in favor of dreaming of kingship, is suddenly visited by an elfin knight who declares him the new King of Shadowland. Whisked away to a magical realm, Noel is crowned before thousands of subjects, but when asked to read his own proclamation, he realizes his illiteracy. The adoring populace turns on him, mocking him as 'King Dunce' and stripping him of his royal status. Humbled and imprisoned, Noel endures harsh lessons before escaping, only to awaken back in his schoolroom, receiving a caning from his usher, having learned the hard lesson of diligence.
Themes
Emotional Arc
pride to humility
Writing Style
Narrative Elements
Cultural Context
Published in 'Australian Fairy Tales' (1897), reflecting a period when European fairy tale structures were adapted to local Australian flora, fauna, and landscapes, though the core moral is universal.
Plot Beats (14)
- Noel Biffin, a dunce at school, dreams only of being a King, neglecting his studies.
- An elfin knight, Sir Guy Fawkes Popgun, appears and informs Noel he has been elected King of Shadowland.
- Noel is thrilled and follows the knight, traveling swiftly on emus and flying horses to the magical realm.
- In Shadowland, Noel is presented to thousands of subjects and ascends a throne made of wildflowers.
- He is given a proclamation to read to his people, but his heart sinks as he realizes he cannot read due to his past idleness.
- Noel confesses his illiteracy to the knight and the assembled courtiers.
- The fairy populace, initially adoring, turns on him, mocking him as 'King Dunce'.
- They pull him from the throne, strip him of his royal attire, and crown him with a wreath of straw.
- Noel is deeply humbled and regrets his past laziness, wishing he had learned to read and write.
- He is imprisoned in a dark cave, guarded by feathered, monkey-headed monsters, who beat him and force him to learn.
- Noel escapes the cave and is pursued by the monsters across the land.
- Cornered on a high mountain, Noel leaps for his life and liberty.
- He awakens to find himself falling from his stool in the schoolroom, the noise rousing the usher.
- The usher canes Noel for his inattention and sends him home.
Characters
Noel Biffin ★ protagonist
A young boy, likely of average height and build for his age, with a generally unkempt appearance from being a 'dunce' and often punished. His skin tone would be fair, consistent with a European (likely British/Australian) background of the era.
Attire: Simple, practical school uniform of the era: a dark, possibly navy or grey, wool jacket and trousers, a white collared shirt, and a dark tie. His clothes might be a bit rumpled or stained from his inattentiveness.
Wants: To become a King and escape the drudgery of school and his perceived inadequacy.
Flaw: His laziness and refusal to apply himself to his studies, leading to illiteracy and a lack of practical skills.
Starts as a lazy, dreaming boy who avoids his studies. He experiences the fleeting glory of kingship and the profound humiliation of his illiteracy, leading to a deep regret and a desire to learn. The experience is revealed to be a dream, but it serves as a powerful lesson.
Careless, stupid (initially), ambitious (wants to be a King), imaginative, easily shamed, regretful, determined (to escape).
Image Prompt & Upload
A young boy with light brown, slightly messy hair, round blue eyes, and fair skin, sitting on a tall wooden stool. He wears a dark grey wool jacket, matching trousers, a white collared shirt, and a dark tie. He holds a piece of chalk in his hand, looking down at a slate on his lap, which has a crudely drawn crown. He has a bored, slightly defiant expression. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Old Usher ◆ supporting
An old man, likely of average height, with a tired and somewhat frail build. His skin is wrinkled from age, and he appears weary from his duties. His ethnicity would be consistent with a European (likely British/Australian) schoolmaster of the era.
Attire: Formal, dark-colored suit typical of a schoolmaster in the late 19th/early 20th century, likely made of wool or a similar sturdy fabric. It would be well-worn but tidy, perhaps with a waistcoat and a simple tie.
Wants: To educate his students and maintain order in the schoolroom, despite his fatigue.
Flaw: His advanced age and weariness, which cause him to doze off and miss events.
Remains largely unchanged, serving as a static figure representing the reality Noel is trying to escape.
Patient (initially), tired, weary, somewhat oblivious (when dozing), stern (when awake and administering punishment).
Image Prompt & Upload
An elderly man with a bald head and a fringe of white hair, a wrinkled face, and closed eyes, dozing in a high-backed dark wooden chair. He wears a dark grey wool suit, a white shirt, and a dark tie. His posture is slumped, and he appears very tired. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Sir Guy Fawkes Popgun ◆ supporting
A small, shapely creature, but very handsome, with a slender, agile build. His skin tone is not specified but would likely be fair, consistent with traditional European elves/fairies.
Attire: Bright, glittering full plate armor, likely silver or polished steel, with intricate detailing. A prominent crimson plume adorns his helmet. His attire suggests a knightly, fantastical aesthetic.
Wants: To fulfill his duty as ambassador and bring the newly elected monarch to Shadowland.
Flaw: None explicitly shown, but he is a figure of fantasy, so his power is limited to that realm.
Remains a static character, serving as the catalyst and guide for Noel's adventure.
Respectful, formal, loyal (to his realm), dignified, persuasive, somewhat mischievous (given his name and role in a dream sequence).
Image Prompt & Upload
A small, slender male figure, very handsome, with finely featured face and bright eyes. He wears bright, glittering silver full plate armor with intricate detailing, and a helmet adorned with a prominent crimson plume. He stands with a dignified posture, one knee bent in a respectful bow. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Locations
Slate-em's Academy Schoolroom
A traditional schoolroom with a high stool where Noel is perched, and an old usher dozing in a chair. The room is bathed in a grand sunset glow, casting an amber-orange light.
Mood: Initially mundane and tedious, then suddenly magical and mysterious with the arrival of the knight.
Noel Biffin, the dunce, is doing his punishment when Sir Guy Fawkes Popgun appears and invites him to be King of Shadowland.
Image Prompt & Upload
A dimly lit, old-fashioned schoolroom at golden hour. Dust motes dance in thick, warm amber light streaming through a tall, leaded-glass window. A worn wooden stool stands prominently in the center, next to a heavy, ink-stained wooden desk. An elderly usher with a bald head is slumped asleep in a high-backed wooden chair in the background. The air is still and heavy with the scent of old paper and wood. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
Shadowland Ravine and Grassy Platform
A deep ravine with towering, fantastic rock walls, peaked and turreted like an old feudal castle. Above the ravine, a grassy platform shaded by a patch of hoary trees, offering a panoramic view of plains below where thousands of subjects are gathered. A throne made of wildflowers is erected on the platform.
Mood: Majestic, awe-inspiring, initially triumphant, then quickly turning to mockery and humiliation.
Noel is crowned King of Shadowland, but his inability to read leads to his immediate downfall and humiliation by his subjects.
Image Prompt & Upload
A dramatic, sun-drenched ravine carved into ancient, fantastical rock formations, resembling the weathered spires and turrets of a forgotten castle. The rock faces are a mix of ochre and deep red, with sparse, resilient scrub clinging to crevices. Above, a verdant grassy platform is shaded by a cluster of gnarled, ancient trees with silvery-green foliage. A simple throne woven from vibrant wildflowers sits on the platform, overlooking a vast, sunlit plain stretching to the horizon. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
Dark Cave of Punishment
A dark, oppressive cave where Noel is imprisoned. It is guarded by seven monstrous creatures with feathered bodies and monkey-like heads.
Mood: Oppressive, torturous, despairing, claustrophobic.
Noel is imprisoned and subjected to harsh lessons and beatings by the monsters as punishment for his illiteracy.
Image Prompt & Upload
A deep, foreboding cave interior, shrouded in perpetual gloom. Jagged, rough-hewn rock walls drip with moisture, and the floor is uneven and damp. Only faint, diffused light penetrates from a distant, unseen opening, casting long, distorted shadows. The air is heavy and still, with a sense of ancient confinement. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
