The Kipling Reader: Selections from the Books of Rudyard KiplingKipling, Rudyard
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The Kipling Reader: Selections from the Books of Rudyard Kipling
Kipling, Rudyard
Animals -- Fiction; English poetry; India -- Social life and customs -- Literary collections; Readers; Short stories, English
'Come in, young 'un,' returned Coppy, who was at early breakfast in
the midst of his dogs. 'What mischief have you been getting into
now?'
Wee Willie Winkie had done nothing notoriously bad for three days,
and so stood on a pinnacle of virtue.
'_I've_ been doing nothing bad,' said he, curling himself into a
long chair with a studious affectation of the Colonel's languor after
a hot parade. He buried his freckled nose in a tea-cup and, with eyes
staring roundly over the rim, asked: 'I say, Coppy, is it pwoper to
kiss big girls?'
'By Jove! You're beginning early. Who do you want to kiss?'
'No one. My muvver's always kissing me if I don't stop her. If it
isn't pwoper, how was you kissing Major Allardyce's big girl last
morning, by ve canal?'
Coppy's brow wrinkled. He and Miss Allardyce had with great craft
managed to keep their engagement secret for a fortnight. There were
urgent and imperative reasons why Major Allardyce should not know
how matters stood for at least another month, and this small marplot
had discovered a great deal too much.
'I saw you,' said Wee Willie Winkie calmly. 'But ve _sais_ didn't
see. I said, "_Hut jao_!"'
'Oh, you had that much sense, you young Rip,' groaned poor Coppy,
half amused and half angry. 'And how many people may you have told
about it?'
'Only me myself. You didn't tell when I twied to wide ve buffalo ven
my pony was lame; and I fought you wouldn't like.'
'Winkie,' said Coppy enthusiastically, shaking the small hand,
'you're the best of good fellows. Look here, you can't understand all
these things. One of these days--hang it, how can I make you see
it!--I'm going to marry Miss Allardyce, and then she'll be Mrs.
Coppy, as you say. If your young mind is so scandalised at the idea
of kissing big girls, go and tell your father.'
'What will happen?' said Wee Willie Winkie, who firmly believed that
his father was omnipotent.
'I shall get into trouble,' said Coppy, playing his trump card with
an appealing look at the holder of the ace.
'Ven I won't,' said Wee Willie Winkie briefly. 'But my faver says
it's un-man-ly to be always kissing, and I didn't fink _you'd_ do
vat, Coppy.'
'I'm not always kissing, old chap. It's only now and then, and when
you're bigger you'll do it too. Your father meant it's not good for
little boys.'
'Ah!' said Wee Willie Winkie, now fully enlightened. 'It's like ve
sputter-brush?'
'Exactly,' said Coppy gravely.
'But I don't fink I'll ever want to kiss big girls, nor no one, 'cept
my muvver. And I _must_ vat, you know.'
There was a long pause, broken by Wee Willie Winkie.
'Are you fond of vis big girl, Coppy?'
'Awfully!' said Coppy.
'Fonder van you are of Bell or ve Butcha--or me?'
'It's in a different way,' said Coppy. 'You see, one of these days
Miss Allardyce will belong to me, but you'll grow up and command the
Regiment and--all sorts of things. It's quite different, you see.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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