Bent and The Dancing Master, I
whooping in a chair, and The Dowd dropping in from the clouds.
whooping in a chair, and The Dowd dropping in from the clouds.
Kipling - Poems
She won't speak to The
Dowd now. Isn't The Dancing Master an angel? "
Mrs. Hauksbee lifted up her voice and raged till bedtime. The doors of
the two rooms stood open.
"Polly," said a voice from the darkness, "what did that
American-heiress-globe-trotter-girl say last season when she was tipped
out of her 'rickshaw turning a corner? Some absurd adjective that made
the man who picked her up explode. "
"'Paltry,'" said Mrs. Mallowe. "Through her nose--like this--'Ha-ow
pahltry! '"
"Exactly," said the voice. "Ha-ow pahltry it all is! "
"Which? "
"Everything. Babies, Diphtheria, Mrs.
Bent and The Dancing Master, I
whooping in a chair, and The Dowd dropping in from the clouds. I wonder
what the motive was--all the motives. "
"Um! "
"What do you think? "
"Don't ask me. She was a woman. Go to sleep. "
* * * * *
ONLY A SUBALTERN
. . . Not only to enforce by command but to encourage by
example the energetic discharge of duty and the steady
endurance of the difficulties and privations inseparable
from Military Service. --Bengal Army Regulations.
THEY made Bobby Wick pass an examination at Sandhurst. He was a
gentleman before he was gazetted, so, when the Empress announced that
"Gentleman-Cadet Robert Hanna Wick" was posted as Second Lieutenant to
the Tyneside Tail Twisters at Kram Bokhar, he became an officer and a
gentleman, which is an enviable thing; and there was joy in the house of
Wick where Mamma Wick and all the little Wicks fell upon their knees and
offered incense to Bobby by virtue of his achievements.
Papa Wick had been a Commissioner in his day, holding authority over
three millions of men in the Chota-Buldana Division, building great
works for the good of the land, and doing his best to make two blades
of grass grow where there was but one before. Of course, nobody knew
anything about this in the little English village where he was just "old
Mr.
Dowd now. Isn't The Dancing Master an angel? "
Mrs. Hauksbee lifted up her voice and raged till bedtime. The doors of
the two rooms stood open.
"Polly," said a voice from the darkness, "what did that
American-heiress-globe-trotter-girl say last season when she was tipped
out of her 'rickshaw turning a corner? Some absurd adjective that made
the man who picked her up explode. "
"'Paltry,'" said Mrs. Mallowe. "Through her nose--like this--'Ha-ow
pahltry! '"
"Exactly," said the voice. "Ha-ow pahltry it all is! "
"Which? "
"Everything. Babies, Diphtheria, Mrs.
Bent and The Dancing Master, I
whooping in a chair, and The Dowd dropping in from the clouds. I wonder
what the motive was--all the motives. "
"Um! "
"What do you think? "
"Don't ask me. She was a woman. Go to sleep. "
* * * * *
ONLY A SUBALTERN
. . . Not only to enforce by command but to encourage by
example the energetic discharge of duty and the steady
endurance of the difficulties and privations inseparable
from Military Service. --Bengal Army Regulations.
THEY made Bobby Wick pass an examination at Sandhurst. He was a
gentleman before he was gazetted, so, when the Empress announced that
"Gentleman-Cadet Robert Hanna Wick" was posted as Second Lieutenant to
the Tyneside Tail Twisters at Kram Bokhar, he became an officer and a
gentleman, which is an enviable thing; and there was joy in the house of
Wick where Mamma Wick and all the little Wicks fell upon their knees and
offered incense to Bobby by virtue of his achievements.
Papa Wick had been a Commissioner in his day, holding authority over
three millions of men in the Chota-Buldana Division, building great
works for the good of the land, and doing his best to make two blades
of grass grow where there was but one before. Of course, nobody knew
anything about this in the little English village where he was just "old
Mr.
