The Humour and Pathos of Anglo-Indian Life: Extracts from his brother's note-book, made by Dr. TicklemoreMayer, J. E.
General
The Humour and Pathos of Anglo-Indian Life: Extracts from his brother's note-book, made by Dr. Ticklemore
Mayer, J. E.
British -- India; India -- Social life and customs
'I have a notion,' said Miss F., 'that most ladies understand that
language, and all, I fancy, do employ it sometimes.'
'But,' inquired the Baronet, 'what's the dodge? Put us up to the dodge,
Miss Freeman.'
'Oh, I can't do that,' said the young lady, looking at the gentleman in
a sort of languishing, sufficiently expressive, way.
He then, turning to Mrs. B., said: 'Come, Mrs. B., won't you tell us
what this knowing dodge is?'
'No, no; don't tell, Mrs. B.!' exclaimed the young lady; 'pray don't. I
beg you won't.'
'Miss Freeman is inclined to trust to the power of invisible chains,
that's all,' said Mrs. B.
'Oh, that's it, is it?' said the Baronet. 'I should fancy such chains
very infirm, and little to be depended on--in fact, I should regard them
as utterly worthless and flimsy, except, indeed, they happened to be
that kind of flimsy that the fat old banker's widow hung round the neck
of young Lord Manners; that might hold.'
'And what kind of chain is it that you describe by this word flimsy?'
'Don't you know?' replied the gentleman. 'I thought everyone knew that.'
'He means a chain of bank-notes,' said Mrs. B. 'A bank-note is with men
on the turf, and other classes less respectable, termed a "flimsy."'
'And that's the meaning of a "flimsy," is it?' said Miss F.
'Yes, my dear,' returned Mrs. B.; 'that's the meaning.'
'And that's the sort of chain that would, in your opinion, be of force
sufficient to restrain a wanderer from straying, is it, Sir Charles?'
'If it is,' interposed Mrs. B., 'I for one don't agree with him.
Experience tells us that all such chains are scarcely ever found
binding.'
'But what a mercenary view to take of the matter! I'm sure, Sir Charles,
that's not your belief in your heart of hearts. I'm certain you have too
much chivalry in you to think so.'
'Well, I don't know,' returned the Baronet; 'I've always thought I had a
great deal too much heart, but at any rate I'm sure I haven't more than
one. As to the chivalry, if we get a chance at the Russians I may
perhaps find out if I've got any, and so perhaps may they.'
'I think, Mrs. B.,' said Miss F., 'I begin to understand your friend Sir
Charles; he is one of those who delight in making themselves appear
worse than they are, and not only worse, but the very reverse of what
they are.'
'Take care,' said Mrs. B., 'that you don't pursue that style of
reasoning too far. By following it up you might invest him with all the
attributes of an 'Admirable Crichton,' and, after all, find out that he
is only Sir Charles Oakley.'
'Oh, but,' said the Baronet, 'she says she has found me out, and thus
indirectly asserts that I am supporting an assumed character.'
'Oh, Sir Charles!' exclaimed the young lady, 'how can you say so? I only
said that I thought I began to understand you.'
'Well,' returned the gentleman, 'isn't understanding me finding me out?'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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