FullReads

Enter Lady KICKLEBURY, BULKELEY following with parcels and a spaniel.

LADY K.–Are the children and the governess come home?

JOHN.–Yes, my lady [in a perfectly altered tone].

LADY K.–Bulkeley, take those parcels to my sitting-room.

JOHN.–Get up, old stoopid. Push along, old daddylonglegs [aside to BULKELEY].

LADY K.–Does any one dine here to-day, Howell?

JOHN.–Captain Touchit, my lady.

LADY K.–He’s always dining here.

JOHN.–My master’s oldest friend.

LADY K.–Don’t tell me. He comes from his club. He smells of smoke; he is a low, vulgar person. Send Pinhorn up to me when you go down stairs. [Exit Lady K.]

JOHN.–I know. Send Pinhorn to me, means, Send my bonny brown hair, and send my beautiful complexion, and send my figure–and, O Lord! O Lord! what an old tigress that is! What an old Hector! How she do twist Milliken round her thumb! He’s born to be bullied by women: and I remember him henpecked–let’s see, ever since–ever since the time of that little gloveress at Woodstock, whose picter poor Mrs. M. made such a noise about when she found it in the lumber-room. Heh! HER picture will be going into the lumber-room some day. M. must marry to get rid of his mother-in-law and mother over him: no man can stand it, not M. himself, who’s a Job of a man. Isn’t he, look at him! [As he has been speaking, the bell has rung, the Page has run to the garden-door, and MILLIKEN enters through the garden, laden with a hamper, band-box, and cricket-bat.]

MILLIKEN.–Why was the carriage not sent for me, Howell? There was no cab at the station, and I have had to toil all the way up the hill with these confounded parcels of my lady’s.

JOHN.–I suppose the shower took off all the cabs, sir. When DID a man ever git a cab in a shower?–or a policeman at a pinch–or a friend when you wanted him–or anything at the right time, sir?

MILLIKEN.–But, sir, why didn’t the carriage come, I say?

JOHN.–YOU know.

MILLIKEN.–How do you mean I know? confound your impudence!

JOHN.–Lady Kicklebury took it–your mother-in-law took it–went out a-visiting–Ham Common, Petersham, Twick’nam–doose knows where. She, and her footman, and her span’l dog.

MILLIKEN.–Well, sir, suppose her ladyship DID take the carriage? Hasn’t she a perfect right? And if the carriage was gone, I want to know, John, why the devil the pony-chaise wasn’t sent with the groom? Am I to bring a bonnet-box and a hamper of fish in my own hands, I should like to know?

JOHN.–Heh! [laughs.]

MILLIKEN.–Why do you grin, you Cheshire cat?

JOHN.–Your mother-in-law had the carriage; and your mother sent for the pony-chaise. Your Pa wanted to go and see the Wicar of Putney. Mr. Bonnington don’t like walking when he can ride.

MILLIKEN.–And why shouldn’t Mr. Bonnington ride, sir, as long as there’s a carriage in my stable? Mr. Bonnington has had the gout, sir! Mr. Bonnington is a clergyman, and married to my mother. He has EVERY title to my respect.

JOHN.–And to your pony-chaise–yes, sir.

MILLIKEN.–And to everything he likes in this house, sir.

JOHN.–What a good fellow you are, sir! You’d give your head off your shoulders, that you would. Is the fish for dinner to-day? Band-box for my lady, I suppose, sir? [Looks in]–Turban, feathers, bugles, marabouts, spangles–doose knows what. Yes, it’s for her ladyship. [To Page.] Charles, take this band-box to her ladyship’s maid. [To his master.] What sauce would you like with the turbot? Lobster sauce or Hollandaise? Hollandaise is best–most wholesome for you. Anybody besides Captain Touchit coming to dinner?

MILLIKEN.–No one that I know of.

JOHN.–Very good. Bring up a bottle of the brown hock? He likes the brown hock, Touchit does. [Exit JOHN.]

Enter Children. They run to MILLIKEN.

BOTH.–How d’you do, Papa! How do you do, Papa!

MILLIKEN.–Kiss your old father, Arabella. Come here, George–What?

GEORGE.–Don’t care for kissing–kissing’s for gals. Have you brought me that bat from London?

MILLIKEN.–Yes. Here’s the bat; and here’s the ball [takes one from pocket]–and–

GEORGE.–Where’s the wickets, Papa. O-o-o–where’s the wickets? [howls.]