English fiction -- 20th century; Social satire, English
The next morning Scrogg brought Selia her morning tea and told her it
would be best to have a bath.
“They are made very pleasant now Madam” she explained, as she threw
all Selias close into the tall basket behind the washstand, “what with
bath salts and animal sponges.” Selia in surprise propped herself on
elbow in the couchy bed saying “Do they then have a bath every day
with clean underwear,” for even she knew it was no good to put dirty
close on a clean body.
“Indeed yes” said Scrogg with a kind smile. “My last lady was very
particular, she would never dream to have her bath without her special
frog sponge, so I made bold to buy you one yesterday in the form of a
pijeon which you will find in its place in the bath racket.”
“Ho” said Selia “I thought such things were only for the young.”
“Dear no” said Scrogg departing with the towels, “all things are
animal now including electric lights.”
And so Selia had a bath first however recalling Scrogg.
“Go and tell Mr. Withersq to have a bath every day too” she
thoughtfully said “for I fear he is not quite up to that yet.”
“Very good Madam” said Scrogg and went, and so Selia tripped into the
bathroom and soaped well all over with the sponge which was like a
pijeon with a beak and wool eyes and when she had had a good swill and
a brisk dry she felt so strong she ran out and banged all the doors
all down one side of the corridor for as will be remembered she
occupied a whole floor to herself.
And after a good breakfast with her Harold both of them reading
Harold’s own newspaper propped up on the toast-machine, she departed
on a mysterous errand to the Majpottels whereat Mr. Withersq made a
sorry face, still as he was really very busy in the mornings he didnt
mind as much as he looked, and set himself to writing his newspaper,
which he now did every day as he thought it a good sport to tell
others how to get on, and smiled up his sleeve to think how few would
have Unckle Burts at the send-off, still it was a good wheeze as long
as the craze for him lasted and made more money than ever. He was a
little bored with it already however, for all though of low birth
Mr. Withersq like all the truly great bored easily. And from time to
time he caught himself thinking of cricket but not so much as he had
done as the doctor had already given him some unthinking medesine, and
each time he did think he wrote a poem and they were soon to be
printed in a book.
At about three Selia came tripping back a bit red in the face and
rather secret, and burst into Mr. Withersq room where he was eating a
orange, with a noisy kiss.
“Huzzah” cried she “I think I shall yet beat the band. But what are
those smutty objects near your ears?”
“Those are my new side-whiskers” replied her Harold unctuously “for
all poets have them.”
“You dog” she said “you are cutting a figure these days arent you?”
And with these words she rushed away to Scrogg to be attired.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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