I must wait
until the man is properly dressed, at least.
until the man is properly dressed, at least.
Kipling - Poems
Life
was cheap, however. The soil spawned humanity, as it bred frogs in
the Rains, and the gap of the sickness of one season was filled to
overflowing by the fecundity of the next. Otis was unfeignedly thankful
to lay down his work for a little while and escape from the seething,
whining, weakly hive, impotent to help itself, but strong in its power
to cripple, thwart, and annoy the weary-eyed man who, by official irony,
was said to be "in charge" of it.
* * * * *
"I knew there were women-dowdies in Bengal. They come up here sometimes.
But I didn't know that there were men-dowdies, too. "
Then, for the first time, it occurred to Otis Yeere that his clothes
were rather ancestral in appearance. It will be seen from the above that
his friendship with Mrs Hauksbee had made great strides.
As that lady truthfully says, a man is never so happy as when he is
talking about himself. From Otis Yeere's lips Mrs Hauksbee, before long,
learned everything that she wished to know about the subject of her
experiment; learned what manner of life he had led in what she vaguely
called "those awful cholera districts"; learned too, but this knowledge
came later, what manner of life he had purposed to lead and what dreams
he had dreamed in the year of grace '77, before the reality had knocked
the heart out of him. Very pleasant are the shady bridle-paths round
Prospect Hill for the telling of such confidences.
"Not yet," said Mrs. Hauksbee to Mrs. Mallowe. "Not yet.
I must wait
until the man is properly dressed, at least. Great Heavens, is it
possible that he doesn't know what an honor it is to be taken up by Me! "
Mrs. Hauksbee did not reckon false modesty as one of her failings.
"Always with Mrs. Hauksbee! " murmured Mrs. Mallowe, with her sweetest
smile, to Otis. "Oh you men, you men! Here are our Punjabis growling
because you've monopolized the nicest woman in Simla. They'll tear you
to pieces on the Mall, some day, Mr. Yeere. "
Mrs. Mallowe rattled down-hill, having satisfied herself, by a glance
through the fringe of her sunshade, of the effect of her words.
The shot went home. Of a surety Otis Yeere was somebody in this
bewildering whirl of Simla--had monopolized the nicest woman in it and
the Punjabis were growling.
was cheap, however. The soil spawned humanity, as it bred frogs in
the Rains, and the gap of the sickness of one season was filled to
overflowing by the fecundity of the next. Otis was unfeignedly thankful
to lay down his work for a little while and escape from the seething,
whining, weakly hive, impotent to help itself, but strong in its power
to cripple, thwart, and annoy the weary-eyed man who, by official irony,
was said to be "in charge" of it.
* * * * *
"I knew there were women-dowdies in Bengal. They come up here sometimes.
But I didn't know that there were men-dowdies, too. "
Then, for the first time, it occurred to Otis Yeere that his clothes
were rather ancestral in appearance. It will be seen from the above that
his friendship with Mrs Hauksbee had made great strides.
As that lady truthfully says, a man is never so happy as when he is
talking about himself. From Otis Yeere's lips Mrs Hauksbee, before long,
learned everything that she wished to know about the subject of her
experiment; learned what manner of life he had led in what she vaguely
called "those awful cholera districts"; learned too, but this knowledge
came later, what manner of life he had purposed to lead and what dreams
he had dreamed in the year of grace '77, before the reality had knocked
the heart out of him. Very pleasant are the shady bridle-paths round
Prospect Hill for the telling of such confidences.
"Not yet," said Mrs. Hauksbee to Mrs. Mallowe. "Not yet.
I must wait
until the man is properly dressed, at least. Great Heavens, is it
possible that he doesn't know what an honor it is to be taken up by Me! "
Mrs. Hauksbee did not reckon false modesty as one of her failings.
"Always with Mrs. Hauksbee! " murmured Mrs. Mallowe, with her sweetest
smile, to Otis. "Oh you men, you men! Here are our Punjabis growling
because you've monopolized the nicest woman in Simla. They'll tear you
to pieces on the Mall, some day, Mr. Yeere. "
Mrs. Mallowe rattled down-hill, having satisfied herself, by a glance
through the fringe of her sunshade, of the effect of her words.
The shot went home. Of a surety Otis Yeere was somebody in this
bewildering whirl of Simla--had monopolized the nicest woman in it and
the Punjabis were growling.
