A KING AGED EIGHT

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 928, 22 March 1930, Page 23

A KING AGED EIGHT

RUMANIA'S RULER INTERVIEWED

PRINCE CAROL’S SON "Good morning, your Majesty!" An eight-year-old boys steps toward me, a faint smile on his face, as he offers me his hand (writes F. J. de Keled in “The World's News). 1 bow. He smiles cordially, showing two dimples in his cheeks—this sovereign over 18,000,000 souls, this king, in a few years, over life and death; and nothing but a pink-cheeked boy It is King Michael 1., eight-year-old master of Rumania; the grandson of Queen Marie, the son of Princess Helen and Prince Carol. He has something of the strong personality of his father; eyes that tell an expressive story, skin that shows the royal blood, manners of the stately old Spanish code of etiquette. He holds his head majestically. “Good morning, sir," he answers in good English, and, turning his head, greets in Rumanian the group of bowing courtiers, his attaches, the satellites who revolve around him. We are walking through the gardens of the royal castle at Sinaia. Guards are everywhere; as the King passes they present arms. “It’s sunny today. The air is so clear. There is seldom so cloudless a sky,” remarks the little King, as he looks around at the mountain peaks, close by and distant, which surround the huge and elaborate royal estate. The beautifully cultivated parks might have been at Fontainebleau, or Potsdam, so perfectly are they arranged and cared for.

I The little boy seems to enjoy nature, I and, as we go farther, he leaves us and starts to run toward a stretch of I open lawn. We increase our pace, not j j knowing quite what to do, but just as J Jwe start to run, the King stops. He [ | stands stiffly at salute before the flag j j of his country, fluttering at the peak j iof a high flagpole. To one side, in j platoon front, the palace guards are j led by the colonel commanding the j | Royal Bodyguard in salute to the flag j j also. His respects to the sacred em- j j blem of his country paid—a daily cere- ] j mony—the King salutes the colonel { gravely and turns sharply away. His j face shows an entirely different expression now, quite serious, quite i king-like. But as he nears us he is | more and more the boy again. We : are now a crowd of about seventeen | people. I am standing on the left of ■ General Costescu, Inspector-General of tile Rumanian Army, and personal | adjutant to the King. Others are the King’s governess, the chief valet of the castle, three officers of the Royal Bodyguard, a chauffeur, stableman and servant.

As we start again to continue our promenade along the smooth gravel paths I ask liis Majesty, what lie likes best to do. And now, just as any boy of any country would answer, whatever his means, he starts to tell me his long list of favoured pastimes. Not going to school, of course, but travelling, outdoor sports, and every sort of active play; running, playing ball, bicycling, horseback riding, and driving a car. A farm boy of about the same age told me the same things a few years ago.

A little later, as if to prove the truth of his feelings, his Majesty calls: “Eugen! Get mo my bicycle." The bicycle appears as if from a magician’s hand. The king mounts, and soon lie is riding confidently. The go\ erness and the footman begin running after him. Twice around the castle the panting couple follow him. Then, laughing over his shoulder, he gives them the slip by pedalling at tuu speed down the long hill to the garages. Full of anxiety, the governess is shouting after him: “Be careyour Majesty! you’ll fall!" Everybody is concerned over the precious body of the boy Michael, who has forgotten that he is his Majesty the King. The long-legged footman says nothing, but races after his master at full speed. Arrived at the garages, the King hands over his bicycle and orders his automobile, which is a small electrically-driven roadster, jus{ big enough for the royal child and an adult companion.

“That's the nicest present Uncle .Nicky ever gave me!” he says joyously as he gets out.

There is a chorus, “Well done, your Majesty.”

Uncle Nicky, incidentally, is his Royal Highness Prince Nicholas, member of the Regency Council of .Rumania, which governs the country until the King’s coming of age. We are slowly walking back to the palace when his Majesty stops in front ot a large clump of shrubbery. “Have you a penknife?” he asks one of his aides. “X have, your Majesty,” is the reply “Large or small?” “Both.” The official, a permanent penknife ! depository, presents the penknives to i the King. With a few heavy slashes I of the larger penknife he cuts off one! of the branches cleanly. “Well done, your Majesty,” says a guardsman. t can cut a very much bigger one,” is the King’s modest reply. With tile : aid of the smaller knife the branch i in tile King's hand soon takes the 1 form of a very thin walking-stick. It i gives him an attractive new idea. His i face is alight with enthusiasm as he : asks: “Shall we do something in the) carpenter shop?” “We are afraid that is impossible ! today, your Majesty,” is the answer! he receives. “Her Royal Highness i has forbidden it.” And. although car- j pentry work is one of the King’s j great passions, he no longer insists, i As we near the palace, the King puts | on an air of mystery! . "X 11 give you a big surprise! You I want to photograph me, and so I’m | going to get ready.” Ten minutes later his Majesty ap-! pears beside his personal adjutant,) Major Mardarescu. quite a different j little man. His new clothes consist! of a grey flannel suit, with long trousers. “I wish you well to wear them,” says the Inspector-General. “Thank you, Costescu,” replies the King. Noticing that one of the trouser t cuffs is disarranged, the Inspector- i General stoops down to put it in place. ■ “Now your Majesty is quite big," he says admiringly. The King, greatly flattered, smiles his satisfaction, showing a dimple in > each cheek. “I'm afraid I’ll have to get back to i my studies.” he says. “Good-bye, gentlemen.” He smiles a little wist- ! fully, and walks very slowly toward ; his waiting tutor.