"Do I know everybody?" I asked Myra towards the end of the dinner, looking round the table.
"I think so," said Myra. "If there's anybody you don't see in the window ask for him."
"I can see most of them. Who's that tall handsome fellow grinning at me now?"
"Me," said Archie, smiling across at us.
"Go away," said Myra. "Gentlemen shouldn't eavesdrop. This is a perfectly private conversation."
"You've got a lady on each side of you," I said heatedly, "why don't you talk tothem? It's simply scandalous that Myra and I can't get a moment to ourselves."
"They're both busy; they won't have anything to say to me."
"Then pull a cracker with yourself. Surely you can think of something, my lad."
"He has a very jealous disposition," said Myra, "and whenever Dahlia—— Bother, he's not listening."
I looked round the table again to see if I could spy a stranger.
"There's a man over there—who's he? Where this orange is pointing."
"Oranges don't point. Waggle your knife round. Oh, him? Yes, he's a friend of Archie's—Mr Derry."
"Who is he? Does he do anything exciting?"
"He does, rather. You know those little riddles in the Christmas crackers?"
"Yes?"
"Yes. Well, he couldn't very well do those, because he's an electrical engineer."
"But why——"
"No, I didn't. I simply asked you if you knew them. And he plays the piano beautifully, and he's rather a good actor, and he never gets up till about ten. Because his room is next to mine, and you can hear everything, and I can hear him not getting up."
"That doesn't sound much like an electrical engineer. You ask him suddenly what amperes are a penny, and see if he turns pale. I expect he makes up the riddles, after all. Simpson only does the mottoes, I know. Now talk to Thomas for a bit while I drink my orange."
Five minutes elapsed, or transpired (whichever it is), before I was ready to talk again. Generally, after an orange, I want to have a bath and go straight off to bed, but this particular one had not been so all-overish as usual.
"Now then," I said, as I examined the crystallised fruit, "I'm with you in one minute."
Myra turned round and looked absently at me.
"I don't know how to begin," she said to herself.
"The beginning's easy enough," I explained, as I took a dish of green sweets under my charge, "it's the knowing when to stop."
"Can you eat those and listen to something serious?"
"I'll try.... Yes, I can eat them all right. Now, let's see if I can listen.... Yes, I can listen all right."
"Then it's this. I've been putting it off as long as I can, but you've got to be told to-night. It's—well—do you know why you're here?"
"Of course, I do. Haven't I just been showing you?"
"Well, why are you here?"
"Well, frankly, because I'm hungry, I suppose. Of course, I know that if I hadn't been I should have come in to dinner, just the same, but—— Hang it, I mean that's the root idea of a dining-room, isn't it? And I am hungry. At least I was."
"Stave it off again with an almond," said Myra, pushing them along to me. "What I really meant was why you're here in the house."
This was much more difficult. I began to consider possible reasons.
"Because you all love me," I started; "because you put the wrong address on the envelope; because the regular boot-boy's ill; because you've never heard me sing in church; because—stop me when I'm getting warm—because Miss Fortescue refused to come unless I was invited; because——"
"Stop," said Myra. "That was it. And, of course, you know I didn't mean that at all."
"What an awful lot of things you don't mean to-night. Be brave, and have it right out this time."
"All right, then, I will. One, two, three—we're going to act a play on Saturday."
She leant forward, and regarded me with apprehension.
"But why not? I'll promise to clap."
"You can't, because, you see, you're going to act too. Isn't it jolly?" said Myra breathlessly.
I gave what, if I hadn't just begun the last sweet, would have been a scornful laugh.
"Me act? Why, I've never—I don't do it—it isn't done—I don't act—not on Saturdays. How absurd!"
"Have you told him, Myra?" Dahlia called out suddenly.
"I'm telling him now. I think he's taking it all right."
"Don't talk about me as 'him'!" I said angrily. "And I'm not taking it all right. I'm not taking it at all."
"It's only such a very small part—we're all doing something, you know. And your costume's ordered and everything. But how awfully sporting of you."
After that, what could I say?
"Er—what am I?" I asked modestly.
"You're a—a small rat-catcher," said Myra cheerfully.
"I beg your pardon?"
"A rat-catcher."
"You said a small one. Does that mean that I'm of diminutive size, or that I'm in a small way of business, or that my special line is young ones?"
"It means that you haven't much to say."
"I see. And would you call it a tragic or a pathetic part?"
"It's a comic part, rather. You're Hereditary Grand Rat-Catcher to the Emperor Bong. Bong the Second. Not the first Bong, the Dinner Bong."
"Look here. I suppose you know that I've never acted in my life, and never been or seen a rat-catcher in my life. It is therefore useless for you to tell me to be perfectly natural."
"You have so little to do; it will be quite easy. Your great scene is where you approach the Emperor very nervously——"
"I shall do the nervous part all right."
"And beg him to spare the life of his mother-in-law."
"Why? I mean, who is she?"
"Miss Fortescue."
"Yes, I doubt if I can make that bit seem quite so natural. Still, I'll try."
"Hooray. How splendid!"
"A rat-catcher," I murmured to myself. "Where is the rat? The rat is on the mat. The cat is on the rat. The bat is on the cat. The——"
"Mr Derry will go through your part with you to-morrow. Some of it is funnier than that."
"The electrical engineer? What do they know about rat-catching?"
"Nothing, only——"
"Aha! Now I see who your mysterious Mr Derry is. He is going to coach us."
"He is. You've found it out at last. How bright green sweets make you."
"They have to be really bright green sweets. Poor man! What a job he'll have with us all."
"Yes," said Myra, as she prepared to leave me. "Now you know why he doesn't get up till ten."
"In the rat-catching business," I said thoughtfully, as I opened the door, "the real rush comes in the afternoon. Rat-catchers in consequence never get up till ten-thirty. Do you know," I decided, "I am quite beginning to like my little part."
I was, I confess, very late the next morning, even for a rat-catcher. Mr Derry was in the middle of his breakfast; all the others had finished. We saluted, and I settled down to work.
"There is going to be a rehearsal at eleven o'clock, I believe," said Derry. "It must be nearly that now."
"I shall be there," I said, "if I have to bring the marmalade with me. You're going to coach us?"
"Well, I believe I said I would."
"Though I have never assumed the buskin myself," I went on, "I have, of course, heard of you as an amateur actor." (Liar.) "And if you could tell me how to act, while I am finishing my bacon, I should be most awfully obliged."
"Haven't you really done any?"
"Only once, when I was very small. I was the heroine. I had an offer, but I had to refuse it, I said, 'Alath, dear heart, I may not, I am married already.'"
"Very right and proper," murmured Derry.
"Well, as it turned out, I had made a mistake. It was my first who had been married already. The little play was full of surprises like."
Derry coughed, and took out his pipe. "Let me see," he began, "what's your part?"
"I am—er—a rodent-collector."
"Oh yes—the Emperor's rat-catcher."
"Grand hereditary," I said stiffly. "It had been in the family for years."
"Quite so."
I was about to enlarge upon the advantages of the hereditary principle when the door opened suddenly to admit Myra and Archie.
"You don't say you're down at last!" said Myra, in surprise.
"I hardly say anything at breakfast, as a rule," I pointed out.
"What an enormous one you're having. And only last night——"
"On the contrary, I'm eating practically nothing—a nut and one piece of parsley off the butter. The fact is, I glanced at my part before I went to bed, and there seemed such a lot of it I hardly slept at all."
"Why, you don't come on very much," said Archie. "Neither do I. I'm a conjuror. Can any gentleman here oblige me with a rabbit? ... No, sir, I said a rabbit. Oh, I beg your pardon, I thought you were coming up on to the stage.... Any gentleman——"
"Have some jam instead. What do you mean by saying I don't come on very much?" I took the book out of my pocket, and began to turn the leaves. "Here you are, nearly every page—'Enter R.,' 'Exit R.,' 'Enter L.'—I don't know whoheis—'Exeunt R.,'—why, the rat-catcher's always doing something. Ah, here they're more explicit—'Enter R.C.' Hallo, that's funny, because I'd just—— Oh, I see."
"One of our oldest and most experienced mimes," said Archie to Derry. "You must get him to talk to you."
"No secret of the boards is hid from him," added Myra.
"Tell us again, sir, about your early struggles," begged Archie.
"He means your early performances on the stage," explained Myra.
"There's one very jolly story about Ellen Terry and the fireproof curtain. Let me see, were youMacbeththen, orNoise of Trumpets? I always forget."
I drank my last cup of tea, and rose with dignity.
"It is a humorous family," I apologised to Derry. "Their grandfather was just the same. Hewouldhave his little joke about the first steam-engine."
Outside, in the hall, there was a large crowd of unemployed, all talking at once. I caught the words "ridiculous" and "rehearsal," and the connection between the two seemed obvious and frequent. I singled out Thomas, abstracted his pouch, and began to fill up.
"What is all this acting business?" I asked. "Some idea about a little play, what? Let's toddle off, and have a game of billiards."
"They've let me in for a bally part," said Thomas, "and you needn't think you're going to get out of it. They've got you down, all right."
"Thomas, I will be frank with you. I am no less a person than the Emperor Bong's Hereditary (it had been in the family for years) Grand Rat-catcher. The real rush, however, comes in the afternoon. My speciality is young ones."
"I'm his executioner."
"And he has a conjuror too. What a staff! Hallo, good morning, Simpson. Are you anything lofty?"
"'Oh, I am the Emperor Bong,'" said Simpson gaily; "'I am beautiful, clever and strong——'"
"Question," said Thomas.
"''Tis my daily delight to carouse and to fight, and at moments I burst into song.'"
I looked at him in amazement.
"Well, just at present," I said, "all I want is a match.... A lucifer, Emp. A pine vesta, Maj. Thanks.... Now tell me—does anybody beside yourself burst into song during the play? Any bursting by Thomas or myself, for instance?"
"Nobody sings at all. My little poem is recitative."
"If you mean it's very bad, I agree with you," said Thomas.
"I made it up myself. It was thought that my part should be livened up a little."
"Well, why hasn't it been?"
"If you will give me two minutes, Simpson," I said, "I will liven up my own part better than that. What rhymes with rat-catcher?"
"Cat-catcher."
"Wait a bit.... Yes, that's got it.
"'Oh, I'm on the Emperor's staffI'm a rodent-collector (don't laugh)—My record (in braces)Of rats and their racesIs a thousand and eight and a half.'"
"May we have that again?" said Myra, appearing suddenly.
"'Oh, I'm on——'"
"No," said Thomas.
"'Oh, I'm on——'"
"No," said Simpson.
"There is no real demand, I'm afraid."
"Well, I did just hear it before," said Myra. "I wish you'd make up one for me. I think we might all announce ourselves like that, and then the audience will have no difficulty in recognising us."
"They'll recognise Thomas if he comes on with an axe. They won't think he's just trotted round with the milk. But what are you, Myra?"
"The Emperor's wife's maid."
"Another member of the highly trained staff. Well, go on, Simpson."
"'Oh, I am her Majesty's maid,'" declared Simpson. "We all begin with 'Oh,' to express surprise at finding ourselves on the stage at all. 'Oh, I am her Majesty's maid, I'm a sad little flirt, I'm afraid.'"
"I'm respectable, steady and staid," corrected Myra.
"No," I said; "I have it—"
"'Oh, I am her Majesty's maid!And her charms are beginning to fade,I can sit in the sunAnd lookjusttwenty-one,Whileshe'sthirty-six in the shade.'"
Myra made a graceful curtsey.
"Thank you, sir. You'll have to pay me a lot more of those before the play is over."
"Will I really?"
"Well, seeing as the Grand Hereditary One is supposed to be making up to her Majesty's confidential attendant——"
Miss Fortescue came pushing up to us.
"It is too ridiculous," she complained; "none of us know our parts yet, and if we have a rehearsal now—what do you think about it?"
I looked at Myra and smiled to myself. "I'm all for a rehearsal at once," I said.
"Now this is a very simple trick," said Archie, from the centre of the stage. "For this little trick all I want is, a hippopotamus and a couple of rubies. I take the hippopotamus in one hand—so—and cover it with the handkerchief. Then, having carefully peeled the rubies——"
Thomas put the last strip of silver paper on to his axe, and surveyed the result proudly.
"But how splendid!" said Myra, as she hurried past. "Only you want some blood." And she jumped over the footlights and disappeared.
"Good idea. Archie, where do you keep the blood?"
"Hey, presto! it's gone. And now, sir, if you will feel in your waistcoat pockets you will find the hippopotamus in the right-hand side and the red ink in the left. No? Dear, dear, the hippopotamus must have been a bad one."
"Be an artist, Thomas," I said, "and open a vein or two. Do the thing properly, Beerbohm. But soft, a winsome maid, in sooth; I will approach her. I always forget that sooth bit. But soft, a win——"
"Why don't we begin?" asked Simpson; "I can't remember my part much longer. Oh, by the way, when you come up to me and say, 'Your Majesty e'en forgets the story of the bull's-eye and the revolving bookcase——"
"Go away; I don't say anything so silly."
"Oh, of course it's Blair. Blair, when you come up to me and say——" They retired to the back of the stage to arrange a very effective piece of business.
"Any card you like, madam, so long as it is in the pack. The Queen of Hearts? Certainly. Now I take the others and tear them up—so. The card remaining will be yours. Ah, as I thought—it is the Queen of Hearts."
"Archie, you're talking too much," said Dahlia, "and none of it comes into your part really."
"I'm getting the atmosphere. Have you an old top hat on you, dear, because if so we'll make a pudding. No top hat? Then pudding is horf."
"But stay, who is this approaching? Can it be—I say, mind the footlights. When are we going to begin?"
"There!" said Thomas proudly. "Anybody would know that was blood."
"But how perfectly lovely," said Myra. "Only you want some notches."
"What for?"
"To show where you executed the other men, of course. You always get a bit off your axe when you execute anybody."
"Yes, I've noticed that too," I agreed. "Notches, Thomas, notches."
"Why don't you do something for a change? What about the trap or whatever it is you catch your bally rats with? Why don't you make that?"
"It isn't done with a trap, Thomas dear. It's partly the power of the human eye and partly kindness. I sit upon a sunny bank and sing to them."
"Which is that?"
"If we don't begin soon," began Simpson——
"Hallo, Emperor, what's that you're saying? Quite so, I agree with you. I wonder if your High Fatness can lend me such a thing as a hard-boiled egg. Simpkins, when this rehearsal is over—that is to say, to-morrow—I'll take you on at juggling; I'm the best——"
Deny finished his conversation with Miss Fortescue and turned to the stage.
"Now then, please,please," he said. "We'll just take the First Act. Scene, The Emperor's Palace. Enter Rat-catcher. You come on from the left."
I coughed and came on.
My part was not a long one, but it was a very important one. I was the connecting link between the different episodes of the play, and they wanted some connecting. Whenever anybody came on to the stage, I said (supposing I was there, and I generally was—the rat-catcher of those days corresponding to the modern plumber)—I said, "But who is this?" or "Hush, here comes somebody." In this way, the attention of the wakeful part of the audience was switched on to the new character, and continuity of action was preserved.
I coughed and came on.
"No," said Derry, "you must come on much more briskly."
"I can't. I've been bitten by a rat."
"It doesn't say so anywhere."
"Well, that's how I read the part. Hang it, I ought to know if I've been bitten or not. But I won't show it if you like; I'll come on briskly."
I went out, and came on very briskly.
"That's better," said Derry.
"'His Majesty ordered me to be here at the stroke of noon,'" I said. "'Belike he has some secret commands to lay upon me, or perchance it is nought but a plague of rats. But who is this?'"
"'Oh,'" said Myra, coming in suddenly, "'I had thought to be alone.'"
"'Nay, do not flee from me, pretty one. It is thus that——' I say, Myra, it's no good my saying do not flee if you don't flee."
"I was just going to. You didn't give me a chance. There, now I'm fleeing."
"Oh, all right. 'It is thus that the rats flee when they see me approaching. Am I so very fearsome?'"
"'Orrid," said Archie to himself from the wings.
"One moment," said Derry, and he turned round to speak to somebody.
"Puffickly 'orrid," said Archie again.
"Nay, do not frown," Myra went on, "'tis only my little brother, who is like unto a codfish himself, and jealous withal."
"Ay, ay, and I thought itwasa codfish. So that I had e'en brought the egg-sauce with me."
"Trouble not thyself for that," said Archie. "For verily the audience will supply thee with all the eggs thou wantest. I say, wearebeing funny."
"I'm not, I'm quite serious, I really did think it was a co—— 'But tell me, fair one,'" I said hurriedly, "'for what dost the Emperor want me?'"
"Yes, yes," said Derry, "I'm sorry I had to interrupt you. I think perhaps we had better begin again. Yes, from the beginning."
The rehearsal rolled on.
* * * * * * *
"I think it went splendidly," said Myra. "If only we had known our parts and come in at the right moments and been more serious over it."
"If there's any laughing to be done it will have to be done byus. The audience won't laugh."
"'Mr Derry having explained that the author was not in the house, the audience collected their cauliflowers and left quietly.' I think it's a rotten play."
"Well, it isn't frightfully funny," said Myra, "but we can put that in ourselves."
"It's so jolly hard to say the lines properly—they're so unnatural," complained Thomas. "'Truly thou hast created a favourable impression with the damsel'—well, I mean, it's absurd. Any ordinary person would say 'Truly thou art amongst them, old spot,' or something of that kind."
"Well, you say that, Thomas; you'll be all right,"
"We might put a few songs in," said Dahlia, "and a dance or two."
"I think you've forgotten that we've done only Act I.," remarked Archie. "His Majesty's conjuror doesn't really let himself go till Act II. Still, I'm all for a song and a dance. Simpson, come and Apache with me."
They dashed at each other fiercely.
"Oh,we'llmake it go all right," said Myra.
"Has anybody here seen Kelly?" asked Dahlia, putting her head in at the billiard-room door. "I mean Archie."
"I'm waiting here for Kate," I said. "I mean Myra."
"Oughtn't you to be dressing? It doesn't matter about me—I'm not on for a long time."
"A rat-catcher's best suit is not an elaborate one; I can put it on in about five minutes. It is now seven-thirty, we begin at eight-thirty—hence the billiard cue. More chalk."
"Oh, why aren't you nervous? How you can stand calmly there——"
"I am nervous. Look." I aimed carefully and put the red into a pocket some miles away. "There you are. Have you ever seen me do that in real life? Of course not. If my hand had been steady I should have been a foot to the right. Still more chalk."
"Well, I want Archie, and I shall cry if I don't find him. That's how I feel." She sat down and got up again.
"My dear Dahlia," I said solemnly, "now you can understand a father's feelings—I mean, now, you see what you women have brought on yourselves. Who suggested a play? The women. Who dragged me into it? The women. Who said rat-catchers always wore whiskers? The women. Who is designing me a pair of whiskers at this moment? The wom——Simpson. Who but for whom (this is going to be a very difficult sentence) who but for whom, would be just thinking of dressing leisurely for dinner, instead of which we had a hasty snack, and have now got to put on heaven knows what? The women. Well, it serves you right."
"Don't be horrid. I want Archie." She got up for the third time and drifted out of the room.
I chalked my cue and went into a pocket without touching anything. When I say I went in I mean that the ball I was playing with went in. You do see that? Very well, then. I took it out and began to squint along my cue again, when two hands came suddenly over my eyes and a voice said; "Guess who is is."
"The Queen of Sheba," I tried.
"Right," said Myra.
I turned and looked at her.
"Golly, you do, you really do!" I said at last. "Did they always dress like that in the Bong era? Short skirts, long pigtail, bare arms—lovely!"
"'I can sit in the sun and look just twenty-one,'" sang Myra as she dropped into the sofa.
"Well, just at present you're sitting in the billiard-room and looking about fifteen.... How are you getting on with your French this term? I had a very bad report in the holidays from your governess. The extra ninepence a week seems to have been simply thrown away."
"Aren't you excited?" said Myra, looking at me with sparkling eyes.
"As for calisthenics, well, what I say is, 'My daughter is Church of England, and if you don't like it, she can come away. I'm not going to have her stuffed up with all that nonsense.'"
Myra jumped up. "Aren't you excited?" she insisted.
"Feel my tongue—I mean my pulse, it's quite normal. And why? Because I've forgotten my part, and I'm going to bed."
"It's a great responsibility our beginning the play."
"It is. Have you ever thought that, if we refused to begin, the play couldn't continue, and then the audience would be able to go home? My idea was to tackle the people as they arrive, and come to terms with them. I'm sure there's money in it."
"You aren't bothering, are you?"
"Of course, I am. I'd give a hundred pounds to be out of it. No, I wouldn't—I'd give a hundred pounds if you'd always wear that frock and do your hair like that. Will you? And you shall go on with your French, child."
Myra curtsied prettily.
"And I'll go on with my whiskers. You haven't seen me in those yet, have you?" There was a loud noise without. "Here they are, coming in."
It was not the whiskers, however, but Archie and Thomas in full costume; Archie in green and Thomas in black.
"Hallo," said Archie, "I feel just like a conjuror."
"You look just like a grasshopper," said Thomas.
"My dear friend," said Archie, patting him kindly on his shoulder, "is that you? But you oughtn't to be here, you know. You came up the hot-water pipe, I suppose? Yes, yes, but they misdirected you—the blackbeetle department is in the basement. Well, well, it will be easier going down."
"Archie, Dahlia's looking for you."
"It's all right, she found me. She was nearly in tears. She said, 'Is that my Archibald or an onion?' I said 'Fear not, fair one, 'tis but the early crocus.' Myra, don't you think they've overdone the green rather? To be quite frank, I don't see why a conjuror should be dressed in green at all."
"To distinguish him from the rat-catcher in brown, the executioner in black, and the Master of the Gold Fish in red."
"I had thought that perhaps a certain aptitude for legerdemain might so distinguish him. But I perceive that I am wrong. Hallo, why aren't you in brown then?"
"I'm coming on like this," I explained. "I was going to have changed, but now I've seen you two, I don't think I will. With my ordinary clothes, one whisker—probably the starboard one—and a little insouciance, I shall be a great success."
"What annoys me," said Thomas, "is that in the early Bong age they had no bally pockets. I've simply got nowhere to keep a handkerchief."
"Keep it behind the scenes; and then, if you blow your nose immediately before the execution, and again immediately after it, you ought to be all right."
"It isn't for that. It's in case I want to cry."
"It's all right for me," said Archie. "I've simply got to say, 'Now can anybody in the audience oblige me with a handkerchief?' and I shall get dozens."
"Then I shall probably touch you for one. Great Irvings! is this really Simpson?"
The Emperor Bong was making a splendid entry, looking (except for his spectacles) exactly like an emperor.
"Rise, rise," he said. "Stop grovelling. Oh, look here, you fellows, when I say 'On the stomach!' then you must——Oh, I beg your pardon, Miss Mannering, I didn't see you were there."
"Where are my whiskers?" I asked sternly.
"My dear old chap, I couldn't do them; there wasn't enough to go round. I made two nice little eyebrows instead—you'll find them on your dressing-table. 'Oh, I am the Emperor Bong, I am beautiful, clever and strong. I am beauti——' Do you think I ought to wear my spectacles or not?"
There was a loud shout of "No!"
"Oh, all right. But I shall probably fall over the sunset or something. Thomas, if you see me wandering into a new moon, tap me on the head with your axe. Why isn't my rat-catcher dressed?"
"He was waiting for his whiskers."
"That's perfectly absurd. You could have grown a pair in the time. Go and dress at once."
"I refuse to do anything till a quarter-past eight," I said. "If I get into my things now, all the atmosphere will have worn off by the time we begin."
"It's worn off me a long time ago," said Thomas dismally.
"And me," said Myra, with a shiver.
"Well, we're all very miserable," said Archie; "let's have a bottle of something. What? Oh, hush! Simpson, just ring the bell, and I'll show you a little conjuring trick. There's nothing on the table at present, is there? No. Well, now, you watch."
The play was a great success; I know, because many of the audience told me so afterwards. Had they but guessed what was going on behind the scenes, the congratulations would have been even more enthusiastic. For as near as a touch we had to drop the eggproof curtain and hand the money back.
I am going to give you the opening scene as it was actually said—not as it was heard across the footlights—and then you will understand. As you may remember, theRat-catcher(Me) and theMaid(Myra) take the stage first, and they introduce themselves in the usual way to the audience and each other. The scene is the palace of theEmperor Bong(Simpson). Very well then.
Maid(sweetly). Truly his Majesty is a handsome man, and I wonder not that his people love him.
Rat-catcher(rather nervous). Thou surprisest me. I saw him in the wings—in the winter garden just now—that is to say, anon—and thought him plain. But hush, here he comes.
(They salaam, or whatever you call it, and stay there.)
Rat-catcher(still salaaming). What's the silly ass waiting for? I can't stick this much longer; the blood's all going to my head like anything.
Maid(in a similar position). He must have forgotten his cue. Can't you say, "Hush, here he comes" again?
Rat-catcher. I can't say anything out loud in this position. Do you think I might come up for a breath?
Maid(loudly). His Majesty tarries.
Rat-catcher(sotto voce). He does. You've got it.
Maid. Whatever shall we do? Do think of something.
Rat-catcher. Well, I'm going to rise to the surface. I'm tired of being a submarine. (They both stand up.)
Maid(brilliantly). Perchance it was a rat we heard and not his Majesty.
Rat-catcher(with equal brilliance). Fear not, fair damsel. Behold, I will investigate. (Proceeds to back of stage.)
Archie(from wings). Come off, you idiot.
Rat-catcher(always the gentleman—to Maid). Tarry a while, my heart, what time I seek assistance. (Exit.)
Maid(confidentially to audience—to keep the thing going). Truly he is a noble youth, though he follows a lowly profession. 'Tis not the apparel that proclaims the man. Me thinks....
Me(annoyed). Who's an idiot?
Archie. Didn't you see me wink? That ass Simpson's banged his nose against a door-post and is bleeding like a pig. Says it's because he hadn't got his spectacles.
Me(still annoyed). More likely the champagne.
Archie. They're dropping keys down his back as hard as they can. Will you and Myra gag a bit, till he's ready?
Me(excitedly). My good fool, how on earth——
Myra(coming to back of stage). But behold he returns. (Frowns imperiously.)
Rat-catcher(coming on again very unwillingly). Ah, fair maid, 'tis thee. I bring thee good tidings. I met one in the ante-room, a long-legged, scurvy fellow, who did tell me that his Majesty was delayed on some business.
Maid. That must have been his Conjuror—I know him well. (Aside.) What's happened?
Rat-catcher. Let us then rest a while, an it please thee. (Seizing her by the arm.) Over here. That ass Simpson's hurt himself. We've got to amuse the audience till he's finished bleeding.
Maid(sitting down with her back to audience). I say, is it really serious?
Rat-catcher. Not for him; it is for us. Now then, talk away.
Maid. Er—h'm. (Coyly.) Wilt not tell me of thy early life, noble sir, how thou didst become a catcher of rats?
Rat-catcher(disgusted). You coward! (Aloud.) Nay, rather let me hear of thine own life. (Aside.) Scored.
Maid. That's not fair. I asked you first. (Modestly.) But I am such a little thing, and you are so noble a youth.
Rat-catcher. True. (Having a dash at it.) 'Twas thus. My father, when I was yet a child, didst—did—no, didst—apprentice me to a salad binger——
Maid(with interest). How dost one bing salads?
Rat-catcher(curtly). Ballad singer. And I would frequent the market-place at noon, singing catches and glees, and receiving from the entranced populace divers coins, curses, bricks and other ornaments. One morn, as I was embarked upon a lovely ballad, "Place me amidst the young gazelles," I was seized right suddenly from behind. (Bored to death.) I'm sick of this. We're supposed to be amusing the audience.
Maid. Oh, go on, I'm getting awfully amused.
Emperor(audibly from green-room). Confound it, it's begun again.
Executioner(bitterly). And to think that I spent hours putting red ink on my axe!
Maid(with great presence of mind). What's that? Surely that was a rat.
Rat-catcher(greatly relieved). It was. (Getting up.) Let's have Archie on, and see if he can amuse them a bit more. (Aloud.) I must finish my tale anon. Stay here, sweet child, what time I fetch my trusty terrier. (Exit.)
Maid. 'Tis a strange story he tells. How different from my own simple life. Born of proud but morbid parents....
Archie. What's up? Stick to it.
Me. Have you got such a thing as a trusty terrier on you?
Archie(feeling up his sleeve). No.
Me. Well, the audience will be extremely disappointed if I don't bring one back. I practically promised them I would. Look here, why don't you come on and help? Everybody is getting horribly bored with us.
Archie(delightedly). Oh, all right.
EnterRat-catcherand Conjuror.
Maid. But behold he returnsagain!
Rat-catcher(excitedly). Great news, fair lady, which this long-legged, scurvy fellow I told you of will impart to us.
Maid. Why, 'tis the Conjuror. Have you news for us, sir?
Conjuror(with no illusions about the Oriental style). Absolutely stop press. What is it you want to know? Racing? The Bong Selling Plate was won by Proboscis, McSimp up. Immense enthusiasm. Bank rate unchanged—quite right this cold weather. Excuse me a moment, sir, your moustache is coming off. No, the left wing—allow me to lend you a postage stamp. Do you prefer red or green?
Maid(biting her lip). Will you not give us news of the Emperor?
Conjuror. I will. His Majesty has met with a severe accident whilst out hunting this morning, being bitten by a buffalo.
Maid. Alas, what will my mistress say?
Conjuror. She has already said everything that was necessary. Her actual words were: "Just like Bong."
Rat-catcher(seizing the opportunity). His Majesty ordered me to meet him here at noon. Methinks I had better withdraw and return anon. (Makes off hurriedly.)
Conjuror(seizing him). Not so. He bade me command you to stay and sing to us. (Sensation.)
Rat-catcher(huskily). Alas, I have forgotten my voice—that is, I have left my music at home. I will go and fetch it. (Has another dash.)
Conjuror. Stay! Listen! (They all listen.)
Simpson(in wings). Thanks, thanks, that will be all right now. Oh no, quite, thanks. Oh, is this your key? Thanks, thanks. No, it doesn't matter about the other ones, they don't feel at all uncomfortable, thanks. Yes, I think it really did stop it, thanks.
Conjuror. I'm off! (Aloud.) His Majesty has regained consciousness. (Exit.)
Simpson(apologetically). Oh, Archie, I've got the billiard-room key in my——
Rat-catcher(very loudly toMaid). Hush, here he comes! (They salaam.)
(Enter the Emperor Bong.)
"Ladies and gentlemen," said Simpson at the supper-table, glass in hand, "it is my pleasant duty——"
"Bother!" murmured Myra. "Drinking healths always makes me feel funny."
"Silence for McSimp," shouted Archie. "Now then, pass along there, please. There's no need to push, you'll all be able to hear. Gentlemen, the O'Sumph is addressing us impromptu, not to say unasked."
"It is my pleasant duty," continued Simpson, "as your late Emperor (Half-an-hour-late. How's the probosc?), to propose the health of the Rabbits Dramatic Company. (Hooray!) Great as we are on the cricket-field (Wide!)—great, I say, as we are on the cricket-field (Pitch 'em up, Simpson), we are, I think, still greater in the halls of Thespis. (Don't know the lady.) Gentlemen, I knew Irving. (Liar!) I have heard tell of Garrick (Good! Ever heard of Shakespeare?), but to-night has been a new experience for me. (I will—give you—the kee—eys of——.) Ladies and gentlemen, I propose our very good healths, coupled with the name of our hostess Miss Mannering." (Loud Cheers.)
"That's me," said Myra.
"I single out Miss Mannering," added Simpson, "because I'm sure we should all like to hear her make a speech."
"Oh, Samuel," said Myra, shaking her head at him, "and I thought it was because you loved me."
"The Rabbits! Myra!" we cried.
"Miss Mannering will now address you," announced Archie. "She will be glad to answer any questions afterwards; but anyone who interrupts will be hurled out. I appeal to you, as Englishmen, to give her a fair hearing."
Myra stood on a chair, looking lovely, but very lonely, and waited till we were silent.
"My dear good friends," she began, and then she caught Thomas's eye. "Hallo, Tommy," she said wistfully.... "My dear good friends, but why should you sayI'ma jolly good fellow, when it isn't my birthday or anything? But howsillyof you! Why, of course, we'realljolly good fellows—and jolly good actors too. Ithasbeen fun, hasn't it? ... Oh, Archie, dear.... I hope we shall all be here in the summer, don't you? Well, you can't very well say you don't, now I've asked you, can you? You'll have to pretend your uncles are very ill, and then you needn't come.... Oh,please—don'tlook at me like that, you make me want to cry, and I only want to laugh to-night.... Archie, may I get down?"
"Sheisa dear," Dahlia whispered to me. "How you can go on——"
It was Simpson who saved the situation and made us merry and bright again. He hastily trotted out the suggestion that we should tour the country in the summer, playing cricket in the day andBong the Secondat night. Archie backed him up at once.
"Only I'm off Bong Two altogether," he said. "Of course, what we want is a cricket play. We shall have to write one ourselves, I expect; there aren't any really good ones about. Act I. Rupert Vavasour, a dashing bat and the last descendant of an ancient but impoverished house, is in love with the beautiful but equally impoverished Millicent. Milly is being pursued by a rich villain of the name of Jasper Fordyce, the said Jasper being a bowler of extreme swiftness, with a qualification for Essex.... Go on, Simpson."
"In order to restore the fallen fortunes of the house, Rupert plays for Kent as a professional—Binks (R.)—and secures talent money in six successive matches. Jasper hears of it, and (Act II.) assassinates the scorer, bribing a hireling of his own to take the deceased's place. In the next match Rupert only scores forty-nine."
"Rupert," continued Thomas, "who had been counting his own jolly score, and made it eighty-seven, was furious, and determined at all costs to foil the villain. Accordingly he went on to bowl in the next innings and took five wickets for two hundred and thirty-nine, thus obtaining talent money."
"A little love interest, please, Dahlia," said Archie.
"Now the captain, who was in the secret," said Dahlia, "was in love with Rupert's sister, which was why he put Binks (R.) on to bowl. As soon as Binks had collected his five wickets, Blythe went on, and took the other five for three runs. In this way Kent just managed to win, and so Rupert got more talent money."
"The next match was against Essex—Act III., the great act of the play—and Jasper Fordyce was playing for the Leyton brigade. As he put on his spurs before taking the field, and brushed his sleek black hair, he smiled sardonically to himself. Had he not overnight dug holes in the pitch at the pavilion end, and was not the wicket fiery, and he notoriously an erratic bowler?"
"Everything points to Simpson playing Jasper," I said, and continued:
"'Heads,' cried Jasper. It was heads. 'I put you in,' he remarked calmly. 'What!' said the other in amazement. Ten minutes later Binks (R.) and Humphreys were at the wicket. Binks took first ball with a touch of nervousness at his heart. All depended on this match. If only he could make four hundred and fifty to-day, he would be able to pay off the mortgage and marry his Millicent.... 'Play.' Jasper rushed up to the wicket and delivered the ball. Then before anybody could see how it happened, Rupert was stretched full-length upon the sward!"
"I had rather thought of playing Rupert myself," said Archie. "But I'm not so sure now."
"Five for two hundred and thirty-nine," I reminded him. "The part was written for you."
"But what of Millicent?" said Myra. "Fearing lest some evil should overtake her lover she had attended the match clad in a long ulster, and now she flung this off, revealing the fact that she was in flannels. With her hair tucked up beneath her county cap she looked a slim and handsome boy. To rush on to the field and take the injured one's place was the work of a moment. 'Who is this?' said the umpires in amazement. 'Fear not,' whispered Millicent to Humphreys, 'I have a birth qualification for the county, and the gardener coached me for an hour last night.'"
"Once more Jasper rushed up to the crease, and the spectators held their breath."
"I'm going to be a spectator," I said, "with a breath-holding part. Sorry—go on, Blair."
"Then Millicent's bat flashed, and, behold! the ball was on the boundary! A torrent of cheers rent the air. Again he bowled, again the bat flashed. Jasper ground his teeth."
"The curtain goes down here to represent the passing of an hour. When it rises again, Millicent's score is four hundred and twenty-three. There was dead silence for a moment. Then Millicent swung her bat. And at that the cheers broke out, such cheering as had never been heard before. Maclaren's record score was beaten at last! 'Now surely he will knock his wickets down,' said the spectators. Little did they know that until four hundred and fifty was upon the tins the mortgage could not be paid off! Four hundred and thirty—four hundred and forty—four hundred and forty-nine—a sharply run single—four hundred and fifty! From the pavilion Rupert heard the cheers and fainted again."
"It was 'over,' and Millicent had the bowling. Jasper delivered the ball, a fast half-volley——"
("Oh, Simpson simplymustplay Jasper.")
"—and Millicent drove it back hard and true. Jasper tried to duck, but it was too late. He was dead."
"Act IV. All his money went to Rupert, who was a distant cousin. He married Millicent, and they lived happily ever after. But, though they are always to be seen at the Tonbridge and Canterbury weeks, they have never played cricket again.Curtain."
"And bedtime," said Myra suddenly. "Good-night, everybody."
TO MARGERY—FROM HER UNCLE
My dear Margery,—When I heard that you really had arrived, I got out the broken tea-cup, filled it at the bath, and drank "To my niece!" with the greatest enthusiasm possible. Had I been on the stage I should then have hurled the cup over my shoulder; and later on the scene-shifter would have come and collected the bits. As it was, I left that part out; and you will forgive me, will you not, dear baby, when you hear that it was your uncle's last cup, and he in a bad way financially.
Personally I was all for coming to see you at once. But you wrote that you would prefer me to postpone my visit for a week; at the end of which time you would have settled down, and I should be more in a position to do you justice—the critic, rather than the mere reporter. I don't know if those were quite your words, but that at any rate was the idea. So, baby, here I am—a week later, and just returned from seeing you. What, you wish to know, were my impressions?
It is like your cool way, asking me what I think of you. It was you who were to have been interviewed byme. You were a stranger, one short week on our shores; and I wanted to ask you what you thought of the English ladies, what were your views on our climate and (above all) what was your opinion of the English press. My editor had heard of your landing, and those were the things he wished to know. Well, I shall say that your views were undecided. Two kicks, a cry, and something very like a sneeze—you haven't quite got the hang of our language yet.
You know, Margery, there was at one time some talk of your being a boy; and, in that case, your father and I had decided that you were to play for Kent. I was to have bowled to you every evening, and he would have stood by and said, "You should have come forward to that one, sir." At the public schools they call this "coaching." However, that dream is over now, and the most we can hope for is that you should marry someone in the eleven. Your father and I were discussing it last night (in front of you—oh, what would Mrs Grundy say?), and we had almost fixed on Woolley; but your mother objected because he was a professional. A trivial reason, dear Margery, but you know what women are. You gave a little cry just at that moment, and I know you meant, "Well, why not Mr Hutchings then?" Well, we had thought of him, only your mother says he will be too old. I do hope, baby, that when you grow up you will be guided by what your heart says, and not by what your mother says....
Your mother—I think you must be careful in your dealings with that woman. Above all, do not let her prejudice you against your uncle. At one time yesterday we were discussing your personal features. "Her grannie's mouth," said somebody; "her father's nose," volunteered another. "Look at the darling's eyes, just like her loving mummy's," was that shameless person's own contribution. Then I in haste, "But, I say, what about her uncle?"
Margery, your mother looked at you thoughtfully. She looked at you every way. And then suddenly, in triumph, she cried, "Why, nurse! Of course! Her uncle's hair!"
They tell me, Margery, that as a matter of fact your name is Marjorie; and they say that the other reminds them too much of Margarine. That just shows how ignorant they are. I looked up "margarine," in the dictionary, and it is called so because of its "pearly lustre." If that isn't good enough for them, they must be a very proud couple. Anyhow, you are Margery to me: I hope I have a mind above your commonplace Marjories.
There are many things that I have to say to you, but I feel quite sure that your mother reads your letters; so perhaps I had better wait till I can see you alone. I want you always to insist on wearing shoes, as a little girl, and not those ghastly thirty-nine-button boots; also on going to one of the very big schools if you go to a boarding school at all. And I want—but I must talk to your father about it. I like to think he is still my ally. Time was when he too knew all about the bringing up of children, and though he has handicapped himself by marrying, yet now and then, when we are alone together, he is almost sensible on the subject.
Good-bye. Give my love to your mother. Perhaps we can trust her more than we thought, after all. Ever your loving UNCLE
TO HER UNCLE—FROM MARGERY
My dear Uncle,—Thank you for your letter. I was just as glad when they told me aboutyou! And I said to myself, "I must be very nice to him, because mother and I have been here for years and years simply, and he's quite new." And it's unkind of you to say I kicked, I was only stretching, and one must stretch or one will never grow. I heard nurse tell mother that, and youknowyou'd like to have a tall niece.
I think I shall like you, if you're sure you won't mind my being only a girl. I don't think father minds, although he looks very sad about something every now and then. He came back late from the office the other day, and mother told me he'd done such a lot of work, and was so tired, and I cried all night about it, I was so sorry for him.
Motherisa funny person. This morning I did my trick of opening one eye and keeping the other shut, and she got fearfully excited, and called out "Nurse, nurse, what's the matter with baby, she can't open one of her eyes!" And then I simplyhadto open it, so as I could wink at nurse to show her what a silly mother we had. But I have given up my other joke, of pretending to be dead. I used to do it every night, and she would creep out of bed, and come and listen at my cradle, and.... Well, I'm only a girl, and I shall never go to a public school, but still I know when a joke ceases to be a joke and becomes bad form. So I have given it up.
Oh, talking of bad form, some chemists who had read about me in the papers sent me a sample oftoothpowder. In rather doubtful taste, I thought....
I want you to come and see me have my bath. Mother asks all her friends, so why shouldn't I ask mine? Of course, I would rather keep it private, but if mother is going to make a show of it we may as well have the right people there. Do you know, uncle, they actually do it in abasin, although there's a proper bath just next door! I know I'm small, but is it quite fair always to be harping on the fact? (Twice a day, if you will believe me.) Of course, mother and nurse are only women, and they wouldn't understand this. But I am sure you, uncle, would be more careful of people's feelings.
I am sorry, dear, but I don't think I shall be able to marry either Mr Hutchings or Mr Woolley; you see theyarerather old for me,aren'tthey? Mother told me yesterday that there is a dear little boy of four or five playing about somewhere, who will come for me one day and take me right away from her and father.Fancy! What fun!
About my name. Well, I'm afraid it will have to beMarjorieafter all. Of course, I should prefer it to beMargery, but mother assures me that the owner of the name isneverconsulted, so I can't say anything. But I will always be Margery to you, and we won't say anything more about it to the others. Do you see, dear?
And now I must say good-bye, as mother says I want to go to sleep. She is writing this for me, and some of the things she didn't want to say at all, but I threatened her with my joke, and then she did. But we both send our love. Your affectionate niece, MARGERY
P.S. 1.—I was weighed yesterday. I weigh quite a lot of pounds.
P.S. 2.—Come to-morrow at four, and I will show you my toes.
CHAPTER I
When Margery was three months old I wrote a letter to her mother:
"DEAR MADAM,—If you have a copy in Class D at 1s. 10d. net, I shall be glad to hear from you. I am, THE BABY'S UNCLE"
On Tuesday I got an answer by the morning post:
"DEAR SIR,—In reply to yours: How dare you insult my child? She is in Class A1, priceless, and bought in by the owner. Four months old and two days on Christmas Day. Fancy! I am,
"THE BABY'S MOTHER"
Margery had been getting into an expensive way of celebrating her birthday every week. Hitherto I had ignored it. But now I wrote:
"DEAR MADAM,—Automatically your baby should be in Class D by now. I cannot understand why it is not so. Perhaps I shall hear from you later on with regard to this. Meanwhile I think that the extraordinary coincidence (all but two days) of the baby's birthday with Christmas Day calls for some recognition on my part. What would Margery like? You, who are in constant communication with her, should be able to tell me. I hear coral necklaces well spoken of. What do you think? I remember reading once of a robber who 'killed a little baby for the coral on its neck'—which shows at any rate that they are worn. Do you know how coral reefs are made? It is a most fascinating business.
"Then there is a silver mug to be considered. The only thing you can drink out of a mug is beer; yet it is a popular present. Perhaps you, with your (supposed) greater knowledge of babies, will explain this. Meanwhile I am,
"THE BABY'S UNCLE"
"P.S.—Which is a much finer thing than a mother."
To which her mother:
"MY DEAR BOY,—It is too sweet of you to say you would like to get baby something. No, I don't know how coral reefs are made, and I don't want to. I think it is wicked of you to talk like that; I'm sure I sha'n't dare to let her wear anything valuable now. And I don't think she really wants a mug.
"I'm sure I don't know what she does want, except to see her uncle (There!), but it ought to be something that she'll value when she grows up. And of course we could keep it for her in the meantime.
"Her father has smoked his last cigar to-day. Isn't it awful? I have forbidden him to waste his money on any more, but he says hemustgive me five hundred for a Christmas present. If he does, I shall give him that sideboard that I want so badly, and then we shall both go to prison together. You will look after baby, won't you? I am,
"THE BABY'S MOTHER"
"P.S.—Which she isn't proud, but does think it's a little bit classier than an uncle."
And so, finally, I;
"DEAR CHILD,—I've thought of the very thing. I am, THE BABY'S UNCLE"
That ends Chapter I. Here we go on to
CHAPTER II
Chapter II finds me in the toy department of the Stores.
"I want," I said, "a present for a child."
"Yes, sir. About how old?"
"It must be quite new," I said sternly. "Don't be silly. Oh, I see. Well, the child is only a baby."
"Ah, yes. Now here—if it's at all fond of animals——"
"I say, you mustn't call it 'IT.'Iget in an awful row ifIdo. Of course, I suppose it's all right for you, only—well, be careful, won't you?"
The attendant promised, and asked whether the child was a boy or a girl.
"And had you thought of anything for the little girl?"
"Well, yes. I had rather thought of a sideboard."
"I beg your pardon?"
"A sideboard."
"The Sideboard Department is upstairs. Was there anything else for the little girl?"
"Well, a box of cigars. Rather full, and if you have any——"
"The Cigar Department is on the ground floor."
"But your Lord Chamberlain told me I was to come here if I wanted a present for a child."
"If you require anything in the toy line——"
"Yes, but what good are toys to a baby of four months? Do be reasonable."
"What was ityousuggested? A sideboard and a cigar?"
"That was my idea. It may not be the best possible, but at least it is better than perfectly useless toys. You can always blow smoke in its face, or bump its head against the sideboard.Experto crede, if you have the Latin."
Whereupon with great dignity I made my way to the lift.
In the Sideboard Department I said: "I want a sideboard for a little girl of four months, and please don't call her 'IT.' I nearly had a row with one of your downstairs staff about that."
"I will try to be careful, sir," he replied. "What sort of a one?"
"Blue eyes, and not much hair, and really rather a sweet smile.... Was that what you wanted to know?"
"Thank you, sir. But I meant what sort of a sideboard?"
I took him confidentially by the arm.
"Look here," I said, "you know how, when one is carrying a baby about, one bumps its head on all the corners? Well, not too much of that. The mothers don't really like it, you know. They smile at the time, but ... Well, not too many corners.... Yes, I like that very much. No, I won't take it with me."
The attendant wrote out the bill.
"Number, sir?"
"She's the first. That's why I'm so nervous. I've never bought a sideboard for a child before."
"Your Stores number, I mean, sir."
"I haven't got one. Is it necessary?"
"Must have a number, sir."
"Then I'll think of a nice one for you.... Let's see—12345, now does that strike you?"
"And the name?"
"Oh, I can't tell you that. You must look that up for yourself. Good-day."
Downstairs I bought some cigars.
"For a little girl of four months," I said, "and she likes them rather full. Please don't argue with me. All your men chatter so."
"I must," said the attendant. "It's like this. If she is only four months, she is obviously little. Your observation is therefore tautological."
"As a matter of fact," I said hotly, "she is rather big for four months."
"Then it was a lie."
"Look here, you give me those cigars, and don't talk so much. I've already had words with your Master of the Sideboards and your Under-Secretary for the Toy Department.... Thank you. If you would kindly send them."
CHAPTER III
So there it is. I have given the spirit, rather than the actual letter, of what happened at the Stores. But that the things have been ordered there is no doubt. And when Margery wakes up on Christmas Day to find a sideboard and a box of cigars in her sock I hope she will remember that she has chiefly her mother to thank for it.