The History of Mr. Polly Part 10

The general effect was after this fas.h.i.+on:

First an impression of Mrs. Punt on the right speaking in a refined undertone: "You didn't, I suppose, Mr. Polly, think to '_ave_ your poor dear father post-mortemed--"

Lady on the left side breaking in: "I was just reminding Grace of the dear dead days beyond recall--"

Attempted reply to Mrs. Punt: "Didn't think of it for a moment. Can't give you a piece of this brawn, can I?"

Fragment from the left: "Grace and Beauty they used to call us and we used to sit at the same desk--"

Mrs. Punt, breaking out suddenly: "Don't _swaller_ your fork, w.i.l.l.y.

You see, Mr. Polly, I used to '_ave_ a young gentleman, a medical student, lodging with me--"

Voice from down the table: "'Am, Alfred? I didn't give you very much."

Bessie became evident at the back of Mr. Polly's chair, struggling wildly to get past. Mr. Polly did his best to be helpful. "Can you get past? Lemme sit forward a bit. Urr-oo! Right O."

Lady to the left going on valiantly and speaking to everyone who cares to listen, while Mrs. Johnson beams beside her: "There she used to sit as bold as bra.s.s, and the fun she used to make of things no one _could_ believe--knowing her now. She used to make faces at the mistress through the--"

Mrs. Punt keeping steadily on: "The contents of the stummik at any rate _ought_ to be examined."

Voice of Mr. Johnson. "Elfrid, pa.s.s the mustid down."

Miriam leaning across the table: "Elfrid!"

"Once she got us all kept in. The whole school!"

Miriam, more insistently: "Elfrid!"

Uncle Pentstemon, raising his voice defiantly: "Trounce 'er again I would if she did as much now. That I would! Dratted mischief!"

Miriam, catching Mr. Polly's eye: "Elfrid! This lady knows Canterbury.

I been telling her you been there."

Mr. Polly: "Glad you know it."

The lady shouting: "I like it."

Mrs. Larkins, raising her voice: "I won't '_ave_ my girls spoken of, not by n.o.body, old or young."

Pop! imperfectly located.

Mr. Johnson at large: "_Ain't_ the beer up! It's the 'eated room."

Bessie: "Scuse me, sir, pa.s.sing so soon again, but--" Rest inaudible. Mr. Polly, accommodating himself: "Urr-oo! Right? Right O."

The knives and forks, probably by some secret common agreement, clash and clatter together and drown every other sound.

"n.o.body 'ad the least idea 'ow 'E died,--n.o.body.... Willie, don't _golp_ so. You ain't in a 'urry, are you? You don't want to ketch a train or anything,--golping like that!"

"D'you remember, Grace, 'ow one day we 'ad writing lesson...."

"Nicer girls no one ever 'ad--though I say it who shouldn't."

Mrs. Johnson in a shrill clear hospitable voice: "Harold, won't Mrs.

Larkins '_ave_ a teeny bit more fowl?"

Mr. Polly rising to the situation. "Or some brawn, Mrs. Larkins?"

Catching Uncle Pentstemon's eye: "Can't send _you_ some brawn, sir?"

"Elfrid!"

Loud hiccup from Uncle Pentstemon, momentary consternation followed by giggle from Annie.

The narration at Mr. Polly's elbow pursued a quiet but relentless course. "Directly the new doctor came in he said: 'Everything must be took out and put in spirits--everything.'"

Willie,--audible ingurgitation.

The narration on the left was flouris.h.i.+ng up to a climax. "Ladies,"

she sez, "dip their pens _in_ their ink and keep their noses out of it!"

"Elfrid!"--persuasively.

"Certain people may cast snacks at other people's daughters, never having had any of their own, though two poor souls of wives dead and buried through their goings on--"

Johnson ruling the storm: "We don't want old scores dug up on such a day as this--"

"Old scores you may call them, but worth a dozen of them that put them to their rest, poor dears."

"Elfrid!"--with a note of remonstrance.

"If you choke yourself, my lord, not another mouthful do you '_ave_.

No nice puddin'! Nothing!"

"And kept us in, she did, every afternoon for a week!"

It seemed to be the end, and Mr. Polly replied with an air of being profoundly impressed: "Really!"

"Elfrid!"--a little disheartened.

"And then they 'ad it! They found he'd swallowed the very key to unlock the drawer--"

"Then don't let people go casting snacks!"

"_Who's_ casting snacks!"

"Elfrid! This lady wants to _know_, '_ave_ the Prossers left Canterbury?"

"No wish to make myself disagreeable, not to G.o.d's 'umblest worm--"