Voces Populi Part 24

TOMMY (_to_ UNCLE JOSEPH). Uncle, why didn't _you_ carve at dinner?

UNCLE J. Well, Tommy, because the carving was done at a side table--and uncommon badly done, too. Why do you want to know?

TOMMY. Parpar thought you _would_ carve, I know. He told Mummy she must ask you, because--

MRS. C. (_with a prophetic instinct_). Now, Tommy, you mustn't tease your Uncle. Come away, and tell your new Aunt Zeffie what you're going to do with your Christmas boxes.

TOMMY. But mayn't I tell him what Parpar said, first?

MRS. C. No, no; by and by--not now! [_She averts the danger._

[_Later; the Company are playing "Hide the Thimble"; i.e., someone has planted that article in a place so conspicuous that few would expect to find it there. As each person catches sight of it, he or she sits down._ UNCLE JOSEPH _is still, to the general merriment, wandering about and getting angrier every moment_.

MR. C. That's it, Uncle, you're _warm_--you're _getting_ warm!

UNCLE J. (_boiling over_). _Warm_, Sir? _I am_ warm--and something more, I can tell you! [_Sits down with a b.u.mp._

MR. C. You haven't _seen_ it! I'm sure you haven't seen it. Come now, Uncle!

[Ill.u.s.tration: "_Warm_, SIR? I _am_ WARM--AND SOMETHING MORE!"]

UNCLE J. Never mind whether I have or have not. Perhaps I don't _want_ to see it, Sir!

THE CHILDREN. Then do you give it up? Do you want to be told? Why, it's staring you in the face all the time!

UNCLE J. I don't care whether it's staring or not--I don't want to be told anything more about it.

THE CHILDREN. Then you're _cheating_, Uncle--you must go on walking till you _do_ see it!

UNCLE J. Oh, that's it, eh? Very well, then--I'll walk!

[_Walks out, leaving the company paralysed._

MRS. C. Run after him, Tommy, and tell him--quick!

[_Exit_ TOMMY.

MR. C. (_feebly_). I think when Uncle Joseph does come back, we'd better try to think of some game he _can't_ lose his temper at. Ah, here's Tommy!

TOMMY. I _told_ him--but he went all the same, and slammed the door. He said I was to go back and tell you that you would find he _was_ cut up--and cut up rough, too!

MRS. C. But what did you tell _him_?

TOMMY. Why, only that Parpar asked him to come to-night because he was sure to cut up well. You said I might!

[_Sensation; Prompt departure of_ TOMMY _for bed; moralising by Aunts; a spirit of perfect candour prevails; names are called--also cabs; further hostilities postponed till next Christmas_.

On the Ice.

SCENE--_The Serpentine. On the bank, several persons are having their skates put on; practised Skaters being irritable and impatient, and others curiously the reverse, at any delay in the operation_.

CHORUS OF UNEMPLOYED SKATE-FASTENERS. 'Oo'll 'ave a pair on for an hour?

Good Sport to-day, Sir! Try a pair on, Mum! (_to any particularly stout Lady_). Will yer walk inter _my_ porler, Sir? corpet all the w'y! 'Ad the pleasure o' puttin' on your skites last year, Miss! Best skates in London, Sir! [_Exhibiting a primaeval pair._

THE USUAL COMIC c.o.c.kNEY (_to his Friend, who has undertaken to instruct him_). No _'urry_, old man--this joker ain't _arf_ finished with me yet!

(_To_ SKATE-FASTENER.) Easy with that jimlet, Guv'nor. My 'eel ain't 'orn, like a 'orse's 'oof! If you're goin' to strap me up as toight as all that, I sh.e.l.l 'ave to go to _bed_ in them skites!... Well, what is it _now_?

SKATE-FASTENER. Reg'lar thing fur Gen'lm'n as 'ires skates ter leave somethink be'ind, jest as security like--_anythink_'ll do--a gold watch and chain, if yer got sech a thing about yer!

THE C. C. Oh, I dessay--not _me_!

SKATE-F. (_wounded_). Why, yer needn't be afroid! _I_ shorn't run away--you'll find _me_ 'ere when yer come back!

THE C. C. Ah, that _will_ be noice! But all the sime, a watch is a thing that slips out of mind so easy, yer know. You might go and forgit all about it. 'Ere's a match-box instead; it ain't silver!

SKATE-F. (_with respect_). Ah, you _do_ know the world, _you_ do!

THE C. C. Now, Alf, old man, I'm ready for yer! Give us 'old of yer 'and.... Go slow now. What's the Vestry about not to put some gravel down 'ere? It's downright dangerous! Whoo-up! Blowed if I ain't got some other party's legs on!... Sloide more? Whadjer torking about! I'm sloidin' every way at once, _I_ am!... Stroike out? I've struck sparks enough out of the back o' my 'ed, if that's all!... Git up? Ketch me!

I'm a deal syfer settin' dayown, and I'll sty 'ere! [_He stays._

A NERVOUS SKATER (_hobbling cautiously down the bank--to Friend_). I--I don't know how I shall _be_ in these, you know--haven't had a pair on for years. (_Striking out._) Well, come--(_relieved_)--skating's one of those things you never forget--all a question of poise and equi--confound the things! No, I'm all right, thanks--lump in the ice, that's all! As I was saying, skating soon comes back to--thought I was gone that time! Stick by me, old fellow, till I begin to feel my--Oh, hang it _all_!... Eh? surely we have been on more than five minutes!

Worst of skating is, your feet get so cold!... These _are_ beastly skates. Did you hear that crack? Well, _you_ may stay on if you like, but I'm not going to risk _my_ life for a few minutes' pleasure! [_He returns to bank._

THE FOND MOTHER (_from bank, to_ CHILDREN _on the ice_). That's right.

Alma, you're doing it _beautifully_--don't _walk_ so much! (_To_ FRENCH GOVERNESS). Alma fay bocoo de progray, may elle ne glisse a.s.sez--nayse par, Ma'amzell?

MADEMOISELLE. C'est Ella qui est la plus habile, elle patine deja tres bien--et avec un aplomb!

THE F. M. Wee-wee; may Ella est la plus viaile, vous savvy. Look at Ella, Alma, and see how _she_ does it!

MAD. Vous marchez toujours--toujours, Alma; tachez donc de glisser un pet.i.t peu--c'est beaucoup plus facile!

ALMA. Snay pas facile quand vous avez les skates toutes sur un cote--comme _moi_, Ma'amzell!

F. M. Ne repondy a Ma'amzell, Alma, and watch Ella!

ELLA. Regardez-moi, Alma. Je puis voler vite--oh, mais vite ... oh I _have_ hurt myself so!

ALMA (_with sisterly sympathy._) _That's_ what comes of trying to show _off_, Ella, darling! [ELLA _is helped to the bank_.

A PATERNAL SKATE-FASTENER. 'Ere you are, Missie--set down on this 'ere cheer--and you, too, my little dear--lor, _they_ won't do them cheers no 'arm, Mum, bless their little 'arts!

Lemme tyke yer little skites orf, my pooties. _I'll_ be keerful, Mum--got childring o' my own at 'ome--the moral o' _your_ two, Mum!

[Ill.u.s.tration: "SNAY PAS FACILE QUAND VOUS AVEZ LES SKATES TOUTES SUR UN CoTe--COMME MOI!"]