Book: The Works of Rudyard Kipling One Volume Edition

R >> Rudyard Kipling >> The Works of Rudyard Kipling One Volume Edition




CAPT. M. Up with you! Get into your kit.

CAPT. C. Already? Isn't it too soon? Hadn't I better have a shave?

CAPT. M. No! You're all right. (Aside.) He'd chip his chin to
pieces.

CAPT. C. What's the hurry?

CAPT. M. You've got to be there first.

CAPT. C. To be stared at?

CAPT. M. Exactly. You're part of the show. Where's the
burnisher?
Your spurs are in a shameful state.

CAPT. G. (Gruffly.) Jack, I be damned if you shall do that for
me.

CAPT. M. (More gruffly.) Dry' up and get dressed! If I choose to
clean your spurs, you're under my orders.

CAPT. G. dresses. M. follows suit.

CAPT. M. (Critically, walking round.) M'yes, you'll do. Only don't
look so like a criminal. Ring, gloves, fees-that's all right for me.
Let your moustache alone. Now, if the ponies are ready, we'll go.

CAPT. G. (Nervously.) It's much too soon. Let's light up! Let's
have
a peg! Let's-CAPT. M. Let's make bally asses of ourselves!

BELLS. (Without.)-

"Good-peo-ple-all
To prayers-we call."

CAPT. M. There go the bells! Come an-unless you'd rather not.
(They ride off.)

BELLS.-

"We honor the King
And Brides joy do bring-
Good tidings we tell, And ring the Dead's knell."

CAPT. G. (Dismounting at the door of the Church.) I say, aren't
we
much too soon? There are no end of people inside. I say, aren't we
much too late? Stick by me, Jack! What the devil do I do?

CAPT. M. Strike an attitude at the bead of the aisle and wait for
Her. (G. groans as M. wheels him into position he/ore three
hundred eyes.)

CAPT. M. (Imploringly.) Gaddy, if you love me, for pity's sake,
for
the Honor of the Regiment, stand up! Chuck yourself into your
uniform! Look like a man! I've got to speak to the Padre a minute.
(G. breaks into a gentle Perspiration.) your face I'll never man
again. Stand up! visibly.) If you wipe your face I'll never be your
best man again. Stand up! (G. Trembles visibly.)

CAPT. M. (Returning.) She's commg now. Look out when the
music starts. There's the organ beginning to clack.

Bride steps out of 'rickshaw at Church door. G. catches a glimpse
o/ her and takes heart.

ORGAN.-

"The Voice that breathed o'er Eden,
That earliest marriage day,
The primal marriage-blessing,
It hath not passed away."

CAPT. M. (Watching G.) By Jove! He is looking well. 'Didn't
think he had it in him.

CAPT. G. How long does this hymn go on for?

CAPT. M. It will be over directly. (Ansiously.) Beginning to
vleach and gulp. Hold on, Gabby, and think o' the Regiment.

CAPT. G. (Measuredly.) I say there's a big brown lizard crawling
up that wall.

CAPT. M. My Sainted Mother! The last stage of collapse!

Bride comes Up to left of altar, lifts her eyes once to G., who is
suddenly smitten mad.

CAPT. G. (TO himself again and again.) Little Featherweight's a
woman-a woman! And I thought she was a little girl.

CAPT. M. (In a whisper.) Form the halt-inward wheel.

CAPT. G. obeys mechanically and the ceremony proceeds.

PADRE. . . . only unto her as ye both shall live?

CAPT. G. (His throat useless.) Ha-hmmm!

CAPT. M. Say you will or you won't. There's no second deal here.

Bride gives response with perfect coomess, and is given away by
the father.

CAPT. G. (Thinking to show his learning.) Jack give me away
now, quick!

CAPT. M. You've given yourself away quite enough. Her right
hand, man! Repeat! Repeat! "Theodore Philip." Have you
forgotten your own name?

CAPT. G. stumbles through Affirmation, which Bride repeats
without a tremor.

CAPT. M. Now the ring! Follow the Padre! Don't pull off my
glove! Here it is! Great Cupid, he's found his voice.

CAPT. G. repeats Troth in a voice to be heard to the end of the
Church and turns on his heel.

CAPT. M. (Desperately.) Rein back! Back to your troop! 'Tisn't
half
legal yet.

PAnRE. . . . joined together let no man put asunder.

CAPT. G. paralyzed with fear jibs after Blessing.

CAPT. M. (Quickly.) On your own front-one length. Take her
with
you. I don't come. You've nothing to say. (CAPT. G. jingles up to
altar.)

CAPT. M. (In a piercing rattle meant to be a whisper.) Kneel, you
stiff-necked ruffian! Kneel!

PADRE. . . whose daughters are ye so long as ye do well and are
not afraid with any amazement.

CAPT. M. Dismiss! Break off! Left wheel!

All troop to vestry. They sign.

CAPT. M. Kiss Her, Gaddy.

CAPT. G. (Rubbing the ink into his glove.) Eh! Wha-at?

CAPT. M. (Taking one pace to Bride.) If you don't, I shall.

CAPT. G. (Interposing an arm.) Not this journey!

General kissing, in which CAPT. G. is pursued by unknown
female.

CAPT. G. (Faintly to M.) This is Hades! Can I wipe my face
now?

CAPT. M. My responsibility has ended. Better ask Misses
GADSAY.

CAPT. G. winces as though shot and procession is Mendelssohned
out of Church to house, where usual tortures take place over the
wedding-cake.

CAPT. M. (At table.) Up with you, Gaddy. They expect a speech.

CAPT. G. (After three minutes' agony.) Ha-hmmm. (Thunders Of
applause.)

CAPT. M. Doocid good, for a first attempt. Now go and change
your kit while Mamma is weeping over_"the Missus." (CAPT. G.
disappears. CAPT. M. starts up tearing his hair.) It's not half legal.
Where are the shoes? Get an ayah.

AVAH. Missie Captain Sahib done gone band karo all the jutis.

CAPT. M. (Brandishing scab larded sword.) Woman, produce
those
shoes Some one lend me a bread-knife. We mustn't crack Gaddy's
head more than it is. (Slices heel off white satin slipper and puts
slipper up his sleeve.)

Where is the Bride? (To the company at large.) Be tender with
that rice. It's a heathen custom. Give me the big bag.

* * * * * *

Bride slips out quietly into 'rickshaw and departs toward the
sun-set.

CAPT. M. (In the open.) Stole away, by Jove! So much the
worse
for Gaddy! Here he is. Now Gaddy, this'll be livelier than
Amdberan! Where's your horse?

CAPT. G. (Furiously, seeing that the women are out of an earshot.)
Where the-is my Wife?

CAPT. M. Half-way to Mahasu by this time. You'll have to ride
like
Young Lochinvar.

Horse comes round on his hind legs; refuses to let G. handle him.

CAPT. G. Oh you will, will you? Get 'round, you brute-you
hog-you
beast! Get round!

Wrenches horse's head over, nearly breaking lower jaw: swings
himself into saddle, and sends home both spurs in the midst of a
spattering gale of Best Patna.

CAPT. M. For your life and your love-ride, Gaddy -And God bless
you!

Throws half a pound of rice at G. who disappears, bowed forward
on the saddle, in a cloud of sun-lit dust.

CAPT. M. I've lost old Gaddy. (Lights cigarette and strolls off,
singing absently):-

"You may carve it on his tombstone, you may cut it on his card,
That a young man married is a young man marred!"

Miss DEERCOURT. (From her horse.) Really, Captain Mafflin!
You are more plain spoken than polite!

CAPT. M. (Aside.) They say marriage is like cholera. 'Wonder
who'll be the next victim.

White satin slipper slides from his sleeve and falls at his feet. Left
wondering.

THE GARDEN OF EDEN
And ye shall be as-Gods!

SCENE.-Thymy grass-plot at back of t!'e Mahasu dak-bungalow,
overlooking little wooded valley. On the left, glimpse of the Dead
Forest of Fagoo; on the right, Simla Hills. In background, line of
the Snows. CAPTAIN GADSBY, now three weeks a husband, is
smoking the pipe of peace on a rug in the sunshine. Banjo and
tobacco-pouch on rug. Overhead the Fagoo eagles. MRS. G. comes
out of bungalow.

MRS. G. My husband! CAPT. G. (Lazily, with intense enjoyment.)
Eb, wha-at? Say that again.

MRS. G. I've written to Mamma and told her that we shall be back
on the 17th.

CAPT. G. Did you give her my love?

MRS. G. No, I kept all that for myself. (Sitting down by his side.)
I thought you wouldn't mind.

CAPT. G. (With mock sternness.) I object awf'ly. How did you
know that it was yours to keep?

MRS. G. I guessed, Phil.

CAPT. G. (Rapturously.) Lit-tle Featherweight!

MRS. G. I won' t be called those sporting pet names, bad boy.

CAPT. G. You'll be called anything I choose. Has it ever occurred
to
you, Madam, that you are my Wife?

MRS. G. It has. I haven't ceased wondering at it yet.

CAPT. G. Nor I. It seems so strange; and yet, somehow, it doesn't.
(Confidently.) You see, it could have been no one else.

MRS. G. (Softly.) No. No one else -for me or for you. It must
have been all arranged from the beginning. Phil, tell me again
what made you care for me.

CAPT. G. How could I help it? You were you, you know.

MRS. G. Did you ever want to help it? Speak the truth!

CAPT. G. (A twinkle in his eye.) I did, darling, just at the first.
Rut
only at the very first. (Chuckles.) I called you-stoop low and I'll
whisper-"a little beast." Ho! Ho! Ho!

MRS. G. (Taking him by the mous'ache and making him sit up.)
"A-little-beast!" Stop laughing over your crime! And yet you had
the-the -awful cheek to propose to me!

CAPT. C. I'd changed my mind then. And you weren't a little beast
any more.

MRS. G. Thank you, sir! And when was I ever?

CAPT. G. Never! But that first day, when you gave me tea in that
peach-colored muslin gown thing, you looked-you did indeed,
dear-such an absurd little mite. And I didn't know what to say to
you.

MRS. G. (Twisting moustache.) So you said "little beast." Upon
my word, Sir! I called you a "Crrrreature," but I wish now I had
called you something worse.

CAPT. G. (Very meekly.) I apologize, but you're hurting me
awf'ly.
(Interlude.) You're welcome to torture me again on those terms.

MRS. G. Oh, why did you let me do it?

CAPT. G. (Looking across valley.) No reason in particular, but-if
it
amused you or did you any good-you might-wipe those dear little
boots of yours on me.

MRS. G. (Stretching out her hands.) Don't! Oh, don't! Philip, my
King, please don't talk like that. It's how I feel. You're so much too
good for me. So much too good!

CAPT. G. Me! I'm not fit to put my arm around you. (Puts it
round.)

MRS. C. Yes, you are. But I-what have I ever done?

CAPT. G. Given me a wee bit of your heart, haven't you, my
Queen!

MRS. G. That's nothing. Any one would do that. They
cou-couldn't help it.

CAPT. G. Pussy, you'll make me horribly conceited. Just when I
was beginning to feel so humble, too.

MRS. G. Humble! I don't believe it's in your character.

CAPT. G. What do you know of my character, Impertinence?

MRS. G. Ah, but I shall, shan't I, Phil? I shall have time in all the
years and years to come, to know everything about you; and there
will be no secrets between us.

CAPT. G. Little witch! I believe you know me thoroughly
already.

MRS. G. I think I can guess. You're selfish?

CAPT. G. Yes.

MRS. G. Foolish?

CAPT. G. Very.

MRS. G. And a dear?

CAPT. G. That is as my lady pleases.

MRS. G. Then your lady is pleased. (A pause.) D'you know that
we're two solemn, serious, grown-up people -CAPT. G. (Tilting
her
straw hat over her eyes.) You grown-up! Pooh! You're a baby.

MRS. G. And we're talking nonsense.

CAPT. G. Then let's go on talking nonsense. I rather like it. Pussy,
I'll tell you a secret. Promise not to repeat?

MRS. G. Ye-es. Only to you.

CAPT. G. I love you.

MRS. G. Re-ally! For how long?

CAPT. G. Forever and ever.

MRS. G. That's a long time.

CAPT. G. 'Think so? It's the shortest I can do with.

MRS. G. You're getting quite clever.

CAPT. G. I'm talking to you.

MRS. G. Prettily turned. Hold up your stupid old head and I'll pay
you for it.

CAPT. G. (Affecting supreme contempt.) Take it yourself if you
want it.

MRS. G. I've a great mind to-and I will! (Takes it and is repaid
with interest.)

CAPT. G, Little Featherweight, it's my opinion that we are a
couple
of idiots.

MRS. G. We're the only two sensible people in the world. Ask the
eagle. He's coming by.

CAPT. G. Ah! I dare say he's seen a good many sensible people at
Mahasu. They say that those birds live for ever so long.

MRS. G. How long?

CAPT. G. A hundred and twenty years.

MRS. G. A hundred and twenty years! O-oh! And in a hundred
and twenty years where will these two sensible people be?

CAPT. G. What does it matter so long as we are together now?

MRS. G. (Looking round the horizon.) Yes. Only you and I-I and
you-in the whole wide, wide world until the end. (Sees the line of
the Snows.) How big and quiet the hills look! D'you think they care
for us?

CAPT. G. 'Can't say I've consulted em particularly. I care, and
that's
enough for me.

MRS. G. (Drawing nearer to him.) Yes, now-but afterward.
What's that little black blur on the Snows?

CAPT. G. A snowstorm, forty miles away. You'll see it move, as
the
wind carries it across the face of that spur and then it will be all
gone.

MRS. G. And then it will be all gone. (Shivers.)

CAPT. G. (Anriously.) 'Not chilled, pet, are you? 'Better let me
get your cloak.

MRS. G. No. Don't leave me, Phil. Stay here. I believe I am afraid.
Oh, why are the hills so horrid! Phil, promise me that you'll always
love me.

CAPT. G. What's the trouble, darling? I can't promise any more
than
I have; but I'll promise that again and again if you like.

MRs. G. (Her head on his shoulder.) Say it, then-say it! N-no-
don't! The-the-eagles would laugh. (Recovering.) My husband,
you've married a little goose.

CAPT. G. (Very tenderly.) Have I? I am content whatever she is,
so
long as she is mine.

MRS. G. (Quickly.) Because she is yours or because she is me
mineself?

CAPT. G. Because she is both. (Piteously.) I'm not clever, dear,
and
I don't think I can make myself understood properly.

MRS. G. I understand. Pip, will you tell me something?

CAPT. G. Anything you like. (Aside.) I wonder what's coming
now.

MRS. G. (Haltingly, her eyes 'owered.) You told me once in the
old days-centunes and centuries ago-that you had been engaged
before. I didn't say anything-then.

CAPT. G. (Innocently.) Why not?

MRS. G. (Raising her eyes to his.) Because-because I was afraid
of losing you, my heart. But now-tell about it-please.

CAPT. G. There's nothing to tell. I was awf'ly old then-nearly two
and twenty-and she was quite that.

MRS. G. That means she was older than you. I shouldn't like her to
have been younger. Well?

CAPT. G. Well, I fancied myself in love and raved about a bit,
and-oh, yes, by Jove! I made up poetry. Ha! Ha!

MRS. G. You never wrote any for me! What happened?

CAPT. G. I came out here, and the whole thing went phut. She
wrote to say that there had been a mistake, and then she married.

Mas. G. Did she care for you much?

CAPT. G. No. At least she didn't show it as far as I remember.

MRS. G. As far as you rememberl Do you remember her name?
(Hears it and bows her head.) Thank you, my husband.

CAPT. G. Who but you had the right? Now, Little Featherweight,
have you ever been mixed up in any dark and dismal tragedy?

MRS. G. If you call me Mrs. Gadsby, p'raps I'll tell.

CAPT. G. (Throwing Parade rasp into his voice.) Mrs. Gadsby,
confessl

MRS. G. Good Heavens, Phil! I never knew that you could speak
in that terrible voice.

CAPT. G. You don't know half my accomplishments yet. Wait till
we are settled in the Plains, and I'll show you how I bark at my
troop. You were going to say, darling?

MRS. G. I-I don't like to, after that voice. (Tremulously.) Phil,
never you dare to speak to me in that tone, whatever I may do!

CAPT. G. My poor little love! Why, you're shaking all over. I am
so
sorry. Of course I never meant to upset you Don't tell me anything,
I'm a brute.

MRS. G. No, you aren't, and I will tell- There was a man.

CAPT. G. (Lightly.) Was there? Lucky man!

MRS. G. (In a whisper.) And I thougbt I cared for him.

CAPT. G. Still luckier man! Well?

MRS. G. And I thought I cared for him-and I didn't-and then you
came-and I cared for you very, very much indeed. That's all.
(Face hidden.) You aren't angry, are you?

CAPT. G. Angry? Not in the least. (Aside.) Good Lord, what have
I
done to deserve this angel?

MRS. G. (Aside.) And he never asked for the name! How funny
men are! But perhaps it's as well.

CAPT. G. That man will go to heaven because you once thought
you
cared for him. 'Wonder if you'll ever drag me up there?

MRS. G. (Firmly.) 'Sha'n't go if you don't.

CAPT. G. Thanks. I say, Pussy, I don't know much about your
religious beliefs. You were brought up to believe in a heaven and
all that, weren't you?

MRS. G. Yes. But it was a pincushion heaven, with hymn-books
in all the pews.

CAPT. G. (Wagging his head with intense conviction.) Never
mind.
There is a pukka heaven.

MRS. G. Where do you bring that message from, my prophet?

CAPT. G. Here! Because we care for each other. So it's all right.

Mrs. G. (As a troop of langurs crash through the branches.) So it's
all right. But Darwin says that we came from those!

CAPT. G. (Placidly.) Ah! Darwin was never in love with an angel.
That settles it. Sstt, you brutes! Monkeys, indeed! You shouldn't
read those books.

MRS. G. (Folding her hands.) If it pleases my Lord the King to
issue proclamation.

CAPT. G. Don't, dear one. There are no orders between us. Only
I'd
rather you didn't. They lead to nothing, and bother people's heads.

MRS. G. Like your first engagement.

CAPT. G. (With an immense calm.) That was a necessary evil and
led to you. Are you nothing?

MRS. G. Not so very much, am I?

CAPT. G. All this world and the next to me.

MRS. G. (Very softly.) My boy of boys! Shall I tell you
something?

CAPT. G. Yes, if it's not dreadful-about other men.

MRS. G. It's about my own bad little self.

CAPT. G. Then it must be good. Go on, dear.

MRS. G. (Slowly.) I don't know why I'm telling you, Pip; but if
ever you marry again-(Interlude.) Take your hand from my mouth
or I'll bite! In the future, then remember-I don't know quite how to
put it!

CAPT. G. (Snorting indignantly.) Don't try. "Marry again,"
indeed!

MRS. G. I must. Listen, my husband. Never, never, never tell your
wife anything that you do not wish her to remember and think over
all her life. Because a woman-yes, I am a woman -can't forget.

CAPT. G. By Jove, how do you know that?

MRS. G. (Confusedly.) I don't. I'm only guessing. I am-I was-a silly
little girl; but I feel that I know so much, oh, so very much more
than you, dearest. To begin with, I'm your wife.

CAPT. G. So I have been led to believe.

MRS. G. And I shall want to know every one of your secrets-to
share everything you know with you. (Stares round desperately.)

CAPT. G. So you shall, dear, so you shall-but don't look like that.

MRS. G. For your own sake don't stop me, Phil. I shall never talk
to you in this way again. You must not tell me! At least, not now.
Later on, when I'm an old matron it won't matter, but if you love
me, be very good to me now; for this part of my life I shall never
forget! Have I made you understand?

CAPT. G. I think so, child. Have I said anything yet that you
disapprove of?

MRS. G. Will you be very angry? That-that voice, and what you
said about the engagement-

CAPT. G. But you asked to be told that, darling.

MRS. G. And that's why you shouldn't have told me! You must
be the Judge, and, oh, Pip, dearly as I love you, I shan't be able to
help you! I shall hinder you, and you must judge in spite of me!

CAPT. G. (Meditatively.) We have a great many things to find out
together, God help us both-say so, Pussy-but we shall understand
each other better every day; and I think I'm beginning to see now.
How in the world did you come to know just the importance of
giving me just that lead?

MRS. G. I've told you that I don't know. Only somehow it seemed
that, in all this new life, I was being guided for your sake as well
as my own.

CAPT. G. (Aside.) Then Mafilin was right! They know, and
we-we're blind all of us. (Lightly.) 'Getting a little beyond our
depth, dear, aren't we? I'll remember, and, if I fail, let me be
punished as I deserve.

MRS. G. There shall be no punishment. We'll start into life
together from here-you and I-and no one else.

CAPT. G. And no one else. (A pause.) Your eyelashes are all
wet,
Sweet? Was there ever such a quaint little Absurdity?

Mas. G. Was there ever such nonsense talked before?

CAPT. G. (Knocking the ashes out of his pipe.) 'Tisn't what we
say,
it's what we don't say, that helps. And it's all the profoundest
philosophy. But no one would understand-even if it were put into a
book.

MRS. G. The idea! No-only we ourselves, or people like
ourselves-if there are any people like us.

CAPT. G. (Magisterially.) All people, not like ourselves, are blind
idiots.

MRS. G. (Wiping her eyes.) Do you think, then, that there are any
people as happy as we are?

CAPT. G. 'Must be-unless we've appropriated all the happiness in
the world.

MRS. G'. (Looking toward Simla.) Poor dears! Just fancy if we
have!

CAPT. G. Then we'll hang on to the whole show, for it's a great
deal too jolly to lose-eh, wife o' mine?

MRS. G. O Pip! Pip! How much of you is a solemn, married man
and how much a horrid slangy schoolboy?

CAPT. G. When you tell me how much of you was eighteen last
birthday and how much is as old as the Sphinx and twice as
mysterious, perhaps I'll attend to you. Lend me that banjo. The
spirit moveth me to jowl at the sunset.

MRS. G. Mind! It's not tuned. Ah! How that jars!

CAPT G. (Turning pegs.) It's amazingly different to keep a banjo
to proper pitch.

MRS. G. It's the same with all musical instruments, What shall it
be?

CAPT. G. "Vanity," and let the hills hear. (Sings through the first
and hal' of the second verse. Turning to MRS. G.) Now, chorus!
Sing, Pussy!

BOTH TOGETHRR. (Con brio, to the horror of the monkeys who
are settling for the night.)-

"Vanity, all is Vanity," said Wisdom. scorning me-
I clasped my true Love's tender hand and answered frank and
free-ee
"If this be Vanity who'd be wise?
If this be Vanity who'd be wise?
If this be Vanity who'd be wi-ise
(Crescendo.) Vanity let it be!"

MRS. G. (Defiantly to the grey of the evening sky.) "Vanity let it
be!"

ECHO. (Prom the Fagoo spur.) Let it be!

FATIMA

And you may go in every room of the house and see everything
that is there, but into the Blue Room you must not go.-The Story of
Blue Beard.

SCENE.-The GADSBYS' bungalow in the Plains. Time, 11 A. M.
on a Sunday morning. Captain GADSBY, in his shirt-sleeves, is
bending over a complete set of Hussar's equipment, from saddle to
picketing-rope, which is neatly spread over the floor of his study.
He is smoking an unclean briar, and his forehead is puckered with
thought.

CAPT. G. (To himself, fingering a headstall.) Jack's an ass.
There's
enough brass on this to load a mule-and, if the Americans know
anything about anything, it can be cut down to a bit only. 'Don't
want the watering-bridle, either. Humbug!-Half a dozen sets of
chains and pulleys for one horse! Rot! (Scratching his head.)
Now, let's consider it all over from the he-ginning. By Jove, I've
forgotten the scale of weights! Ne'er mind. 'Keep the bit only, and
eliminate every boss from the crupper to breastplate. No
breastplate at all. Simple leather strap across the breast-like the
Russians. Hi! Jack never thought of that!

MRS. G. (Entering hastily, her hand bound in a cloth.) Oh, Pip,
I've scalded my hand over that horrid, horrid Tiparee jam!

CAPT. G. (Absently.) Eb! Wha-at?

MRS. G. (With round-eyed reproach.) I've scalded it aw-fully!
Aren't you sorry? And I did so want that jam to jam properly.

CAPT. G. Poor little woman! Let me kiss the place and make it
well. (Unrolling bandage.) You small sinner! Where's that scald?
I can't see it.

MRS. G. On the top of the little finger. There!-It's a most
'normous big burn!

CAPT. G. (Kissing little finger.) Baby! Let Hyder look after the
jam. You know I don't care for sweets.

Mas. G. In-deed?-Pip!

CAPT. G. Not of that kind, anyhow. And now run along, Minnie,
and leave me to my own base devices. I'm busy.

MRS. G. (Calmly settling herself in long chair.) So I see. What a
mess you're making! Why have you brought all that smelly leather
stuff into the house?

CAPT. G. To play with. Do you mind, dear?

MRS. G. Let me play too. I'd like it.

CAPT. G. I'm afraid you wouldn't. Pussy- Don't you think that jam
will burn, or whatever it is that jam does when it's not looked after
by a clever little housekeeper?

MRS. G. I thought you said Hyder could attend to it. I left him in
the veranda, stirring-when I hurt myself so.

CAPT. G. (His eye returning to the equipment.) Po-oor little
woman!-Three pounds four and seven is three eleven, and that can
be cut down to two eight, with just a lee-tie care, with-out
weakening anything. Farriery is all rot in incompetent hands.
What's the use of a shoe-case when a man's scouting? He can't
stick it on with a lick-like a stamp-the shoe! Skittles

MRS. G. What's skittles? Pah! What is this leather cleaned with?

CAPT. G. Cream and champagne and- Look here, dear, do you
really want to talk to me about anything important?

Copyright (c) 2007. knowncrafts.net. All rights reserved.