If Johnson had hitherto been a little slack in respect of sounding his
horn, it was the only fault of which his employers could complain. He
kept the fittings of the car at the very zenith in the matter of polish,
he was punctuality personified, and most skilful at the tedious business
of repairing or changing tires; he rarely spoke addressed, but when
questioned he seemed to have a good acquaintance with the country, knew
which were the best roads, and what sights were worth visiting in the
various places through which they passed. All of which are highly
desirable qualities in a chauffeur, and a satisfaction to all
concerned.
It was the general plan of the holiday to start about ten or eleven
o'clock, take a picnic-basket with them, lunch somewhere in the woods,
arrive at their next halting-place about three or four, and spend the
remainder of the day in sight-seeing, or in Major Rogers' case resting,
if he were suffering from a severe attack of pain.
As they motored across Somerset in the direction of Wells, they chose
for their mid-day stop a lovely place on the top of a range of low
hills. A belt of fir trees edged the roadside, and through these a gate
led into a field. As the gate was open they felt licensed to enter, and
to encamp upon a sunny bank under a hedge. One of the motor rugs was
spread for Major Rogers, and Mrs. Rogers, Sheila, and Carmel sat
severally on an air cushion, a tree-stump, and on the grass. There was a
grand view over a slope of cornfields and pastures, and though the sun
was warm there was a delicious little breeze to temper the heat. Not
that it was too hot for any one except Sheila, who panted in the shade
while the others exulted in the sunshine. Carmel, outstretched upon the
grass, basked like a true daughter of the south, throwing aside her hat,
somewhat to Mrs. Rogers' consternation.
"You'll spoil your complexion, child! I'm sure your mother never allows
you to go hatless in Sicily! Put your handkerchief over your face. Yes,
I like to feel the warmth myself, though not on my head. This is the
sort of holiday that does people good, just to sit in the open air."
"It's a rabbit holiday here," murmured the Major lazily. "Didn't you
read that supreme article in _Punch_ a while ago? Well, it was about a
doctor who invented a drug that could turn his patients into anything
they chose for the holidays. A worried mother of a family lived an
idyllic month at a farm as a hen, with six children as chickens, food
and lodging provided gratis; a portly dowager enjoyed a rest cure as a
Persian cat at a country mansion; some lively young people spent a
fortnight as sea-gulls, while the hero of the article was just about to
be changed into a rabbit when----"
"When what happened?"
"The usual thing in such stories; the maid broke the precious bottle of
medicine that was to have worked the charm, and when he hunted for the
doctor to buy another, the whole place had disappeared."
"How disappointing!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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