Domestic fiction; England -- Fiction; Mothers and sons -- Fiction; Unmarried mothers -- Fiction; Women household employees -- Fiction
The plates of all the boys except the Demon's were now filled with
beefsteak pudding, potatoes, and greens, likewise Esther's. Mr. Leopold,
Mr. Swindles, the housemaid, and the cook dined off the leg of mutton, a
small slice of which was sent to the Demon. "That for a dinner!" and as he
took up his knife and fork and cut a small piece of his one slice, he
said, "I suppose you never had to reduce yourself three pounds; girls
never have. I do run to flesh so, you wouldn't believe it. If I don't walk
to Portslade and back every second day, I go up three or four pounds. Then
there's nothing for it but the physic, and that's what settles me. Can you
take physic?"
"I took three Beecham's pills once."
"Oh, that's nothing. Can you take castor-oil?"
Esther looked in amazement at the little boy at her side. Swindles had
overheard the question and burst into a roar of laughter. Everyone wanted
to know what the joke was, and, feeling they were poking fun at her,
Esther refused to answer.
The first helpings of pudding or mutton had taken the edge off their
appetites, and before sending their plates for more they leaned over the
table listening and laughing open-mouthed. It was a bare room, lit with
one window, against which Mrs. Latch's austere figure appeared in
dark-grey silhouette. The window looked on one of the little back courts
and tiled ways which had been built at the back of the house; and the
shadowed northern light softened the listening faces with grey tints.
"You know," said Mr. Swindles, glancing at Jim as if to assure himself
that the boy was there and unable to escape from the hooks of his sarcasm,
"how fast the Gaffer talks, and how he hates to be asked to repeat his
words. Knowing this, Jim always says, 'Yes, sir; yes, sir.' 'Now do you
quite understand?' says the Gaffer. 'Yes, sir; yes, sir,' replies Jim, not
having understood one word of what was said; but relying on us to put him
right. 'Now what did he say I was to do?' says Jim, the moment the Gaffer
is out of hearing. But this morning we were on ahead, and the Gaffer had
Jim all to himself. As usual he says, 'Now do you quite understand?' and
as usual Jim says, 'Yes, sir; yes, sir.' Suspecting that Jim had not
understood, I said when he joined us, 'Now if you are not sure what he
said you had better go back and ask him,' but Jim declared that he had
perfectly understood. 'And what did he tell you to do?' said I. 'He told
me,' says Jim, 'to bring the colt along and finish up close by where he
would be standing at the end of the track.' I thought it rather odd to
send Firefly such a stiff gallop as all that, but Jim was certain that he
had heard right. And off they went, beginning the other side of Southwick
Hill. I saw the Gaffer with his arms in the air, and don't know now what
he said. Jim will tell you. He did give it you, didn't he, you old
Woolgatherer?" said Mr. Swindles, slapping the boy on the shoulder.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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