The Happy WarriorHutchinson, A. S. M. (Arthur Stuart-Menteth)
General
The Happy Warrior
Hutchinson, A. S. M. (Arthur Stuart-Menteth)
Fiction
London stands stock still in the middle of a windy, crowded pavement to
open its evening paper and to peer at the stop-press space for only one
particular purpose. While she thus stood and peered (and suddenly knew
this icy silence was the gathering of an immense tide that was
coming--coming) a woman who wore an apron over a capitally developed
figure, and a rakish cloth cap over a headful of curl papers, opened
the door of the house immediately beside her (appearing with the air of
one shot at immense velocity out of a trap) and called "I! Piper!"
She then exclaimed nearly as loudly "Ennoyin'!" and then saw Audrey.
This lady's name was Mrs. Erps, and she knew perfectly well, and
rejoiced to observe an example of, the peculiarity in regard to
London's evening paper that has been noted above. Mrs. Erps rolled her
solid hands in her apron and came down ingratiatingly. A model of
correctness. "Excoose me, my dear," she began, "Excoose me, wot 'orse
won the tooo-firty? My old man--Ho, thenks, I'm sure--Ho, gryshus!"
Relating the incident later in the evening to a lady friend, and acting
it with considerable dramatic power: "'Ands me the piper she does,"
said Mrs. Erps, "as natural as I 'ands this apring to you and then
looks at me jus' as if I mightn't had been there, and then she says in
a whissiper 'Oh, dear!' she says. 'O Gawd!' and _dahn_ she goes
plump--dahn like that!" explained Mrs. Erps from the floor, very nearly
carrying her friend with her in the stress of dramatic illustration.
But Mrs. Erps was more than a great tragedy actress; she was also a
kindly soul and there is to be added to this quality the genial warmth
aroused in her by the fact that the tooo-firty winner was Lollipop,
that Lollipop had cantered home at what she called sevings, and that
her old man was seving times arf a dollar the richer for the
performance. "Carry 'er in there," said Mrs. Erps in a very loud voice
to a policeman in particular and to a considerable area of the street
in general. "Young man, that's my 'ouse, and Mrs. Elbert Erps my nime,
and dahn in front of it the pore young thing's fell jus' as she was
'anding me this very piper wot 'ad come aht to see the tooo-firty
winner. 'Excoose me,' I says to 'er, 'excoose me--'"
The policeman: "All right, mother. Now, then, you boys."
Mrs. Elbert Erps, going backwards up the steps, hands beneath the arms
of that poor stricken creature: "There's a cleeng, sweet bed in my
first front, well-haired and wool blenkits, that lets eight and six and
find yer own, and could ask ten, and there she'll rest, the poor pretty
thing, dropped on me very doorstep, as yer might say, and standin'
there with the piper same as you might. 'Excoose me,' I says to 'er,
'excoose me--'"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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