Frivolities, Especially Addressed to Those Who Are Tired of Being Serious

When finally, having for all I know promised to present her with the contents of half the shops in Regent Street and of all the shops in Piccadilly, I had succeeded in persuading her to come to bed, the excitement she had undergone told upon her slight and fragile frame, and ere long my Leila was asleep. I, too, slept at her side. Nor during the remaining silent watches of the night did aught disturb our rest.

We were roused by someone knocking at our bedroom door. I awoke with the immediate consciousness that we had overslept ourselves. As a matter of fact we had, by about two hours.

"Frederic!" exclaimed Leila, in that nervous way of hers which is apt to convey to those who do not know her the impression that the last trump has sounded. "There's someone at the door!"

"Who's there?" I asked.

The voice which answered was the voice of Eliza.

"If you please, sir, there's been robbers in the house!"

"Robbers! Don't talk such nonsense!"

"If you please, sir, it ain't nonsense. Mrs. Perkins says there have!"

And what Mrs. Perkins said was true. There had been robbers in the house; or, at any rate, a robber; a midnight felon; a rifler of the homes of honest men. He had made his entry by way of the back kitchen window. He had had his supper in the front kitchen. A hearty meal it must have been. There were the remains of the feast still on the board. He seemed to have eaten all that there was worth eating. He had drunk all that there was worth drinking. He had certainly taken away with him on his departure all that there was worth taking. He had stripped the house of all its valuables. True, they were not many; but they were our all. And they were gone.

I imagine that few burglaries have been better carried through. He was a conscientious and observant workman of his kind. The ruthless villain! I hope one day to lay hands upon him somewhere. The county constabulary, I am certain, never will.

As for the burglar alarm-the burglar alarm was arranged in a neat heap in a corner of the hall. It had not fulfilled the purpose it had been intended to fulfil. Like Macgregor and Simon, his mother, the burglar had misunderstood the intentions which had actuated our bosoms, Leila's and mine, when we had placed it there. He cannot have read the paragraph we had noticed in the paper.

I suspect that that burglar must have been, in his way-his own way-a humorist. He had seen those newspapers apparently; and, if you reflect, it was not strange: he had wondered what they meant by being there. Possibly he had supposed that they had been placed there to save the oilcloth and the carpets from being stepped upon. Anyhow, being certain that at any rate his boots were clean, and that he stepped lightly, he picked up the newspapers carefully one by one, folded them neatly into four, and placed them, as I have said, in a little heap in a corner of the hall.

A Lesson in Sculling

MISS WHITBY WRITES TO HER MOTHER

"My Dearest Mamma, – I have had the most delightful time you can possibly think of. Everybody and everything has been so nice! And Jack has been teaching me sculling. And-oh, what do you think? – he drowned me! Yes-completely! Only, of course, it was all my fault. And he pulled me out of the water by the hair of my head-or something; I don't know what, or how. Wasn't it noble of him? I never enjoyed anything so much in all my life!

"But I will tell you all about it. I know you must feel anxious. Only don't think I'm dead, because I'm not. I haven't even caught a cold. All owing to Charlie. He says I wasn't in the water long enough; that's what he says. I assure you I was in the water quite long enough for me!

"You know, ever since we've been down here we've been on the river every day, Charlie and I. His mother-Mrs. Mason, you know-doesn't care for the water; she says it's damp. But I think that's because she knows that two are company, and is tender-hearted-like you, my dearest Momkins! Besides, she likes fussing about and paying visits, and she is so good-I hope that I shall be as good as she is one of these fine days! But you can never tell!

"Of course it was very nice being pulled about. Only Charlie was so aggravating! He wouldn't do in the least bit what you told him. I would say to him before we started:

"'Charlie, do take me for a long row-now, promise me!' And he would say:

"'Certainly. Fourteen miles out and fifteen in."

"'Don't be silly! I wish you would-I do so like to be pulled.'

"He would be standing on the bank with his back to the water, and with me just in front of him. He would stretch out his arm.

"'Tip us your flipper!' He meant, 'Give me your hand.' When he chooses Charlie can be slangy. 'I'll pull you into the river.'

"It was not the slightest use my talking. I would sigh, and get into the boat and hope for the best. But I never got it. No!

"As soon as we had gone three or four hundred yards Charlie would pull towards a little island, which is just beyond the bend in the river-I don't know who put it there; I know that I often wished that it was further-and row right round it into a sort of little creek which was on the other side, which was just large enough to hold the boat, and where no one could see us because of the trees. So far as privacy was concerned we might as well have been in the heart of a virgin forest. And there Charlie would stop, and do nothing else but talk; though I'm bound to confess that he chose interesting subjects of conversation as a rule, because generally, when he wasn't talking of himself, he was talking of me. And it is such a help to conversation when one is well acquainted with the topic under discussion. But he did so annoy me, because he would never do what I told him. I wanted him to row me to Oxford, or somewhere. But he said it was so hot-I didn't feel hot! – and Oxford was twenty miles away, and more. That was nonsense, because quite little electric launches go there and back in a day. At least, I am nearly sure they do.

"But what irritated me more than anything else was because he kept on asking me why, if I was so fond of rowing, with the thermometer four hundred degrees above bursting point-I don't believe it was anything like so hot as that, but that is what he said-I didn't row myself. He knew I couldn't. But I made up my mind that I would learn, and, what is more, I would teach myself: I would show him what I could do.

"So one morning I got up, all alone, quite early, without breathing a single word to anyone. I don't know how early it was, but I know it was early, because, when I let myself through the dining-room window-French window-into the garden, there was not a creature in sight. The garden runs right down to the river. The boat is kept tied to the bank. I pulled it close and got into it-and directly I got into it it wobbled.

"Dearest mamma, even at that last moment-or at that first moment, whichever it was-I almost wished I hadn't come. Suppose I should upset! I do believe I should have gone straight back again to bed, only I couldn't. The boat had drifted to the end of the string and was ever so far from the land, and how to get it back again I didn't know. So I sat still, and scarcely dared to breathe. But it did seem so silly to sit still like that. If anybody saw me what should I say? I had a pair of nail-scissors in my pocket, and with them I cut the string. They were a very small pair, and the string was thick and it was wet. It took me a long time to cut it. But I succeeded at last. I was adrift on the waters!

"Dearest mamma, have you ever felt what it is like to be adrift, all alone by yourself, in a dinghy? – you know what that is, I am sure. I think that is how it is spelt. I hope you never have, for your own sake. It is awful! I could have screamed, only I dared not, for fear of upsetting the boat. I had never thought of the oars until I was adrift. And when I did think of them my heart went into my mouth-between ourselves, I believe it was there already. They were generally taken out of the boat at night. But, fortunately, Charlie had been too lazy the evening before and had left them in. And there they were, staring me in the face. I took hold of one very gently, but directly I began to lift it the boat began again to wobble. I tried to think I didn't care. I clenched my teeth and I kept on lifting the oar, and at last I got it straight up in the air-like a scaffold-pole. I had had no idea it was so heavy. It was all I could do to hold it; in fact, I couldn't hold it. To my horror it slipped out of my grasp and fell into the stream with a splash. It drenched me with water from head to foot. And there it was, floating about by itself, ever so far away.

"I quite abandoned hope. I gave myself up for lost. I tried to collect my presence of mind and to think of the Royal Humane Society's directions for drowning-which are printed on the board in Hyde Park, you know. Judged by the light of after events, losing that oar was the most fortunate thing which could have happened to me. If I had not lost it I should have drowned myself. My body might have been lying at the bottom of the river even now. But I did not know that at the time. And after I had abandoned hope it was all I could do to keep from crying.

"Suddenly someone called to me from the bank. It was Charlie. He was not very well dressed; he had his towel over his arm; he was going for his morning bathe. But I don't think I ever had loved him so much as when I heard his voice and saw him standing there-no, not even in that glad moment when first he told me that he loved me and asked me to be his wife.

"'Oh, Charlie!' I cried. 'I'm drowning!'

"'That's all right!' It sounded unfeeling, but I knew what he meant. 'I'll swim out to you.'

"He leaped head foremost into the river as if it had been nothing at all, and swam out to me as if he had been a dog. He swam first of all to the oar, and then he swam to the boat.

"'Sit still!' he said.

"But it was not the slightest use my sitting still when he himself nearly pulled the boat right over. Almost before I knew it he was sitting on the seat in front of me, sopping wet and laughing.

"'What's the meaning of this?' he asked.

"'I'm learning to row.'

"'You looked as if you were learning to row! Well, have you learnt?'

"'Charlie, you're not to laugh at me! It isn't right. Some girls have people to teach them rowing-people who care for them, that is. But I haven't, so of course I have to teach myself. And I have to get up in the small hours of the morning to do it too.' I sighed-or I chose to let him think I did-'I might have been drowned.'

"'That's true-you might.' He looked at me hard, and I believe there was a twinkle in his eyes. But as I looked right past him, far across the water, and he saw that I was serious, I think that it went no further. 'Look here, Miss Whitby-'

"'You're not to call me Miss Whitby, Charlie!'

"'Very well, I won't. Look here, young person-'

"'And you're not to call me young person either. I'm not a young person.'

"'Then look here, old chap-'

"'Charlie Mason, if you call me old chap I'll get out of the boat this instant!'

"'That's right. Do.' He pretended to wait for me to get out. I was not so absurd. He went on: 'I don't know if you're aware that it's easier to learn rowing with one scull than with two?'

"'How was I to know that? No one ever told me. Nobody takes sufficient interest in me to tell me anything.'

"'If you had betrayed the slightest sign of desiring the information I would have taken sufficient interest in you to tell you that. I came out here to have a dip. I have had half of it. During the interval, before I have the other half, I shall have pleasure in imparting to you that instruction for which your soul professes to yearn.' I had said nothing about my soul, or about yearning either; I am not so profane. He pointed to the seat behind me. 'Get on to that seat and sit in the middle.'

"'You must take the boat to shore first. You know how strongly I object to changing places while the boat is in the middle of the river; it does make it wobble so.'

"'Is the teacher to obey or to be obeyed? Execute my commands!'

"I 'executed his commands,' and the boat did not turn over. Charlie moved on to the seat which I had occupied. He showed me his back.

"'Do as I do.'

"I did as he did, or I tried to. He put one of the oars in its place in the water without the slightest difficulty. I did not find it by any means so easy.

"'May I ask, before we proceed any further, if it is your intention to knock me overboard?' He said that simply because I happened to hit him with my oar as I was lifting it. The thing would not go right. I daresay that I did knock him two or three times, but there was really no necessity why he should make a fuss, as he did do. 'Is your scull having a row with you, or are you having a row with it? What is the matter?'

"Thank you, nothing is the matter."

"I scorned to complain.

"'I'm glad to learn it; I hate to hear of people falling out. Now, are you all right?'

"'I am perfectly right.'

"He glanced round to inspect me.

"'Yes, you look perfectly right. You've got your scull the wrong way round.' I turned the thing. 'Now you've got it upside down.'

"'What do you mean? You don't mean to tell me that the other end ought to be in the water?'

"'No, I don't mean to tell you quite that, but I do mean to tell you that you ought to hold it so that the hollow part of the blade looks in front of you. It's an elementary fact, but it is a fact.' I turned the thing again. 'Suppose you put three or four feet more of it out of the boat. As you're holding it at present a good part of your scull seems to run to handle.' I pushed some more of the thing through the place they call the rowlock. 'I didn't tell you to put the whole of it out of the boat; it's just as well to keep something to catch hold of, if only for the look of the thing. If you observe, there's a strip of leather round the scull. That strip of leather marks the point where the scull is supposed to rest in the rowlock. That's better. Your hands are wrong; shift them. Hold your scull as I am holding mine.'

"It was all very well of him to talk like that, but it was most unfair, besides being ridiculous. His hands are, at least, twice as large as mine; he could get right hold of his oar, while I could scarcely get hold of mine at all. But I declined to argue.

"'Now, when I say "pull," pull. And it's about time that somebody did begin to pull, or very shortly we shall be aground. Now, pull!'

"For some reason, I don't know what, the boat began to turn right round. Charlie immediately stopped rowing. I had never begun. Of course, at once Charlie tried to be funny.

"'I see the progress of this boat is going to be conducted on the tee-to-tum principle. May I ask why you didn't pull?'

"'Because I couldn't.'

"'Why couldn't you?'

"'Because I couldn't get my oar out of the water.'

"'So I should imagine. There appears to be six feet more of it in the water than there ought to be. This is not intended to be a lesson in punting. In punting one desires to feel the bed of the river; you and I do not want to get quite so deep.'

"'I wish you wouldn't laugh at me.'

"'My dear May, nothing can be further from my thoughts. How could I dare? Let us try again. Before making our second effort I should, perhaps, tell you that it is advisable to put your scull in just deep enough to cover the blade, and then to pull it steadily out again. There's no hurry. Take your time; there's no fear of our going ashore just yet. At present we look more like crossing the river. Now, are you ready. When I say the word-pull!'

"Again the boat began to turn.

"'Charlie, I cannot get my oar out of the water. I'm not as strong as a horse.'

"He looked at me and laughed. I could have laughed, only I was afraid of crying; it was so vexing to feel one was so stupid.

"'When I was a small boy and I first started to row I couldn't get my oar out of the water, except when I didn't want to, and then it came out too easily. See, May, I'll keep the boat straight, and you have one or two shots at paddling.'

"I had what he called 'one or two shots at paddling,' that is, I just dipped my oar into the water and pulled. I began to feel that I was getting the hang of the thing-Charlie's own words. I saw that it was going to be much harder than I had ever imagined, but I did not mind that, because, as I say, I did feel that I was getting on.

"'Now,' said Charlie, 'I'll paddle.'

"Directly he began to paddle the boat began to turn.

"'What makes the boat go round?'

"'It's because you don't pull strong enough. If two persons don't pull equally-that is, together, and with equal strength-the boat is bound to turn.'

"When he said that I made up my mind that I would pull stronger; the boat should not go round. So I shut my eyes and clenched my teeth and I pulled with all my might, and before I knew what had happened, I was in the water!

"Charlie says that I caught a crab. He says, in my haste and my excitement-I didn't know I was excited, but I suppose I must have been-I did not put the oar into the water at all; I pulled with all my might at the vacant air. I know that I fell backwards off my seat, and that I made a wild grab at anything and everything, and that the boat went over.

"I never shall forget it. The water got into my ears and eyes and nose and mouth, and I thought that I never should stop going down. Then, all of a sudden, I found myself on the surface again, with the sky above me and Charlie's arm about my waist.

"Keep still," he said.

I did keep still; he says I did keep still. He says himself that I behaved like a regular trump. I do declare to you, mamma, that I never felt the least bit uneasy directly I felt Charlie's arm round my waist. Wasn't it strange?

"'You won't let me drown, Charlie, will you?'

"That was all I said.

"'Not if I know it. It's all right, May; we're going shares in the other half of my dip, that's all. I'll take you ashore as easy as winking.'

"I don't know exactly what it was I said, but I believe that I said some absurd thing about that, if I was drowned, he would know that I loved him. But I do know that he kissed me, then and there, while he was holding me up for dear life, in the middle of the river.

"I never fainted till we got ashore, and then I only just dropped off. Charlie carried me right off to my bedroom, and there was a fine to-do. But I wasn't going to stop in bed-not I. I just changed my clothes and went straight downstairs to breakfast, and, after breakfast, I went for another row. And I went for another after lunch, and I got on first rate. Charlie declares that, with practice, I shall make as good an oarswoman as you would care to see; and, after we are married, he's going to teach me swimming-so he says.

"But we're not married yet."

Outside!

Stacey-Lumpton wanted to go in a cab. I said that a 'bus was good enough for me. He looked me up and down as if I were some inferior kind of animal.

"I'll pay for the cab."

That settled it. I told him that I could not think of allowing such a thing. He brushed a speck of dust off the silk facings of his frockcoat. Then, with his pocket-handkerchief, he brushed the top of one of the fingers of his lemon-coloured kid gloves-where it had touched his coat.

"But I've never travelled in an omnibus."

"In that case it'll be a new sensation, and a new sensation's everything! Read the daily paper-it's the salt of life."

"But all sorts of extraordinary people travel in an omnibus!"

"I should rather think they do. Why, the very last time I was on one the Archbishop of Canterbury sat on the seat in front of me, the Duke of Devonshire was on my right, a person high in favour at Marlborough House was just behind, while there was no one below the rank of a baronet in sight."

He looked at me, as he fumbled for his eyeglass, as if he thought I might be getting at him. Before he could make up his mind a "Walham Green" came lumbering towards us. Stopping it, I hustled Stacey-Lumpton into the road before he in the least understood what was happening.

"Now then, look alive! Here's the very 'bus we want! Jump up!"

I assisted him on to the step. He made as if to go inside. I twisted him towards the stairs. He remonstrated.

"My dear fellow, I really must beg of you to allow me to get inside this omnibus."

"Nonsense. You'll be crushed to death, besides being suffocated alive. There's plenty of room outside. Up you toddle."

I don't know about toddling, but urged, no doubt, to an appreciable degree by the pressure which I exercised from behind, he did begin to mount the stairs gingerly one by one. I followed him. When he was near the top I sang out to the conductor.

"All right!" The conductor stamped his foot. The 'bus started. Then, to Stacey-Lumpton, "Hold tight!"

He held tight just in time. He seemed surprised. "Good gracious! I almost tumbled! The omnibus has started! Tell him to stop at once, I'm falling!"

"Not you. The police won't allow them to stop more than a certain time. They're bound to keep on moving. Shove along."

"This is most dangerous. I'm not used to this kind of thing. And the roof seems full."

"There are two empty seats in front there, just behind the driver-move on."

He moved on after a fashion of his own. He seemed to find the task of preserving his equilibrium, and at the same time of steering his way between the two rows of occupied garden seats, a little difficult. He struck one man upon the head. He seized a lady by her bonnet. He all but thrust the point of his umbrella into another person's eye. He grabbed an old gentleman by the collar of his coat. This method of proceeding tended to make him popular.

"Driver!" exclaimed the old gentleman whom Stacey-Lumpton had grabbed, slightly mistaking the situation, "This person is drunk. He ought not to be allowed in such a condition on an omnibus."

Stacey-Lumpton was too confused to remonstrate. He went floundering on. Presently he kicked against a box which a gentleman of the coster class had placed beside himself on the roof. In trying to recover himself he brought his hand down pretty heavily on its owner's hat. Said owner lost no time in calling his attention to the thing which he had done.

"Where do you think you're a-coming to? I shouldn't be surprised but what you thought this 'bus was made for you. You do that again and I'll send you travelling, and don't you seem to forget it neither."

Stacey-Lumpton had reached a vacant seat at last. I sat beside him. Immediately behind us was the coster. He had taken off his hat and was lovingly examining it. It was an ancient billycock, which had been in somebody's family for several generations. A friend accompanied him.

"If I was you, Jimmy," observed his friend, "I should make that cove pay for your 'at."

"Make 'im pay for it? He ain't got no money. Do 'e look as though 'e 'ad?"

"Well, I should make 'im give yer 'is 'at for yourn. He's bashed your 'at in, ain't 'e?"

Jimmy acted on the hint. Leaning forward, he thrust his reminiscence of a head-covering under Stacey-Lumpton's nose.

"I say, I don't know if you know that you've bashed my 'at in, guv'nor?"

Stacey-Lumpton raised his fingers to his nostrils.

"Take it away, sir-horribly smelling thing."

"Wot are you calling a 'orribly smelling thing? Wot would you say if I was to bash your 'at in?"

"I should bash it in if I was you, Jimmy."

"So I will if 'e don't look out, and so I tell 'im."

The gentleman whose coat had been grabbed still seemed unappeased, and still seemed labouring under a misapprehension.

"Persons who are in an intoxicated condition ought not to be allowed on public conveyances." I turned to Stacey-Lumpton.

"I don't know if you are aware that you almost pulled that gentleman's coat off his back?"

The old gentleman's observations, although addressed to no one in particular, had been audible to all. Twisting himself round in his seat, Stacey-Lumpton proceeded to explain.

"I hope, sir, I didn't hurt you."

The coster chose to take this remark as being addressed to him.

"But you 'urt my 'at! I give fourpence for that 'at not three months ago. 'Ow d'yer suppose I'm going to keep myself in 'ats?"