travel books: Bagsworthy followed it successfully, but was less successful than he had hoped in knocking the other fellow's head off. He returned home with a prejudice against all forms of public entertainment, which expressed itself bitterly in the word `Mummers !' For some reason this word gave him a satisfaction which no arrangement of expletives could have brought. `Mummers,' he muttered through the sponge, as he bathed his eye, `that's what they are. Mummers !' From that day the dangers of mumming, and of any association with mummers, were kept in front of his daughter. `All mummers,' Mr. Bagsworthy would say mournfully, as he led her past some brightly lit building, `all the whole lot of 'em, elephants and all. Just mummers.' And Mr. Stoker, when his turn came to listen to the Bagsworthy creed, proved to be equally orthodox. `That's all right, my girl,' he said. `We'll have no money to waste on fripperies of that sort. Look at Rome. Panem et circen.re.r and all that, if you see what I'm referring to. Eh, Bags?' Mr. Bagsworthy, who strongly objected to being called `Bags' by his future son-in-law, even if he had picked up a bit of Greek, said `Ah !' with the air of one adding a scholarly footnote. But Mrs. Stoker's views had broadened with her widowhood. She still felt that a personal appearance in ballet-skirts before a lot of strangers would be sinful, but as long as her mistresses did not ask her to do that, she was prepared to acquiesce in their play-going, and to admit that even the current parlourmaid, though better without it, might balance her account by good work in other directions. Sometimes she regretted her increased breadth of view; as when asked by an argumentative house-painter to `look at Shakespeare' ... and she had looked at Shakespeare. But she still found a fascination in the gossip about the theatre (that fountain-head of books

Books > Old Books > Two People (1932)

Page 261

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Bagsworthy followed it successfully, but was less successful than he had hoped in knocking the other fellow's head off. He returned home with a prejudice against all forms of public entertainment, which expressed itself bitterly in the word `Mummers !' For some reason this word gave him a satisfaction which no arrangement of expletives could have brought. `Mummers,' he muttered through the sponge, as he bathed his eye, `that's what they are. Mummers !' From that day the dangers of mumming, and of any association with mummers, were kept in front of his daughter. `All mummers,' Mr. Bagsworthy would say mournfully, as he led her past some brightly lit building, `all the whole lot of 'em, elephants and all. Just mummers.' And Mr. Stoker, when his turn came to listen to the Bagsworthy creed, proved to be equally orthodox. `That's all right, my girl,' he said. `We'll have no money to waste on fripperies of that sort. Look at Rome. Panem et circen.re.r and all that, if you see what I'm referring to. Eh, Bags?' Mr. Bagsworthy, who strongly objected to being called `Bags' by his future son-in-law, even if he had picked up a bit of Greek, said `Ah !' with the air of one adding a scholarly footnote.
But Mrs. Stoker's views had broadened with her widowhood. She still felt that a personal appearance in ballet-skirts before a lot of strangers would be sinful, but as long as her mistresses did not ask her to do that, she was prepared to acquiesce in their play-going, and to admit that even the current parlourmaid, though better without it, might balance her account by good work in other directions. Sometimes she regretted her increased breadth of view; as when asked by an argumentative house-painter to `look at Shakespeare' ... and she had looked at Shakespeare. But she still found a fascination in the gossip about the theatre (that fountain-head of