England -- Social life and customs -- 20th century -- Fiction; English fiction -- 20th century; Short stories, English
“Do you realise, William, that if you’d obeyed my orders we should have
been in a position to buy a nice little house of our own here in Old
Ford, and never had to pay a week’s rent again? Do you understand how
much you owe me? Do you comprehend—”
“My dear,” he appealed, putting his hands together, “let me off as light
as you can. I won’t go lording it about the place any more. In future,
I’ll only lord it over myself.”
II—THE TARGET
THE woman stepped on so many toes in making her way to the far end that
the passengers were only willing to give partial forgiveness when, as the
motor-omnibus started, she gave a violent jerk.
“First time I’ve ever been in one of these new-fangled contrivances.”
“It’ll be the last, if you ain’t careful,” said the conductor, punching a
penny ticket.
“But I made up my mind to do it,” addressing the others. “Down in the
country where I live, they’ve been throwing it up agenst me for some time
past. And so I determined, next time I come up to see my sister, I’d
take a trip by one of them, jest in order to see what happened, and—here
I are.”
A youth next to her, with a girl companion, mentioned that it was a pity
they so often exploded, and blew up in the air; the girl jerked with her
elbow and begged him not to make her laugh in public.
“You think there’s any likelihood?” asked the country lady tremulously.
“I don’t want to get mixed up in no fatal accident, and see my name in
the London papers. Shan’t never hear the end of it if that happens. Do
they make any warning before they go off pop?”
The passengers gave up all attempt to read, and offered her their
complete attention. “So painful for friends,” said a woman opposite,
winking at the rest. “Understand what I mean. Having to come and sort
out the bits, and say, ‘That looks like Uncle James’s ear; if I could
only find the other one, I should be able to start piecing him together.’
You see, they don’t allow compensation unless you can produce the
complete individual.”
“That don’t seem exactly fair.”
“It isn’t fair,” agreed the humorous woman. “But there’s lots of things
like that here in London. For instance, if the inspector came in now,
and found you sitting up in the first-class part of the car, he’d want to
charge you excess.”
“In that case,” she said affrightedly, taking a grip of her parcel, “I’d
better move down nearer towards the door.”
They made room for her in the newly selected position; the folk there not
disguising their satisfaction with the change. The string of the parcel
came undone, and they assisted her in recovering the contents. “Giving
everybody a lot of trouble,” she remarked penitently; “and that ain’t my
usual plan, not by no manner of means. Can I temp’ you with a apple,
sir? I don’t know you, and I hope you’ll excuse what looks like a
liberty, but if you’re a judge of a Ribston pippin, you’ll enjoy that
one.”
“I recollect,” said the man, “what ’appened in the Garden of Eden.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account