The Happy WarriorHutchinson, A. S. M. (Arthur Stuart-Menteth)
General
The Happy Warrior
Hutchinson, A. S. M. (Arthur Stuart-Menteth)
Fiction
Mrs. Erps shot open her front door with a backward plunge of her foot,
the policeman closed it with a backward kick of his foot; and to the
continued recital in great detail of how it all happened, their burden
was carried to the first front and laid upon the cleeng, sweet bed,
well-haired, wool blenkits, eight and six and find yer own.
They loosened her dress at her throat; beneath the constable's
direction made use of water and chafed her hands. "Marrit," said Mrs.
Erps, denoting the wedding ring. "Marrit, she is."
Presently Audrey opened her eyes.
"Why, _there_ you are!" cried Mrs. Erps in high delight. "There you
are, my pretty. Safe and sahnd as ever you was. There you are! You
recolleck me, don't you, my love? Wot you gave the piper to? 'Excoose
me,' I says to yer, 'excoose me,' I says--"
Audrey's eyes went meaninglessly from Mrs. Erps to the constable, her
eyelids fluttered above them and closed.
"_Stand_ aht of it!" said Mrs. Erps to the constable in a very sharp
whisper. "_Stand_ aht of it, frightenin' her. 'E won't 'urt you, my
pretty. 'E only carried of yer up. _Dahn_ you went, yer know, right
dahn. Where's your 'usbing, my pretty?"
Her lips just parted. She moaned "Oh, dear! O God!"
Mrs. Erps communicated to the constable: "Jus' 'er very words. _Dahn_
she went--"
The eyes opened again.
"Your 'usbing, dear, I'm askin'. 'Usbing. Ain't you got a ma, my
dear? Ain't you got a pa?"
She said: "Dead ... dead ... Oh, dear..."
"Orfing," communicated Mrs. Erps.
"Rambling in her mind," said the constable. "Not answering you, she
wasn't."
"You pop off, young man," commanded Mrs. Erps with sudden hostility.
"Ramberling! Didn't I ask her, and didn't she give answer back to me?
Ramberling! You pop off. I'll fine where she lives, and my old man
'll come to the station if so need be. 'E ain't afraid of yer, so
don't you think it. Served on a joory, he has, before now.
Ramberling! I'm going to rub 'er pore feet. That's what I'm goin' to
do. Ramberling! She knows me as spoke 'er fair before ever you came.
'Excoose me,' I says to her, 'excoose me--'"
The policeman, from the door: "Yes, I've heard that."
Mrs. Erps, bending over the stairs: "Pop off! That's what I'm telling
you. Pop off!"
III
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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