I had often seen the little lady at No. 4, but it is only lately that I
have discovered that there is in her the makings of a General.
We found out about her strategic dispositions in a roundabout way. Her
maid told the milkman, and in the course of nature the news came to us.
Every night her maid carries into her room a fur coat, a large pair of
boots and a coal-scuttle.
It is, of course, her preparation to meet a Zeppelin attack.
Everybody is getting ready. Bulpitt's wife's mother, for
example--Bulpitt is my next-door neighbour--is making him dig a
bomb-proof hole in the garden. Bulpitt thought there might be some
difficulty about getting her into it. I pointed out that there would be
more difficulty in getting her out--the hole is very deep. He said he
didn't worry about that.
Two nights later we had a scare. Every light went out along the
road and people were doing all kinds of safe things. It turned out
afterwards that Stewart was testing his family Zeppelin drill, and
fired three shots to make it realistic. His wife then put the baby
in the copper with the lid one inch open. She herself stood beside a
certain wall which, according to Stewart, could not be knocked down
because of the stresses and strains that would be set up.
That was all very well for him; the only thing that went wrong was
that a little water had been left in the copper. But what about poor
Johnson, who had to pile all the mattresses in the coal-cellar? He was
awfully black and angry when he found out.
And what about Carruthers, who emptied a fire-pail on the drawing-room
fire, and had to explain a long muddy pool to his wife, who is rather
deaf and hadn't heard the shots?
As for Bulpitt's wife's mother, she was in the pit for over an hour
before we hauled her out. The first time we got her to the surface
she gasped out, quite smilingly, "Now I know what it's like in the
tren----" and then she slipped back with an oozy thud. The second time
she said, "I don't think they'll come ag----" The third time she said,
"I don't care if the Zeppel----" And when we did get her out she said
nothing at all, and I was sorry for Bulpitt.
Amidst all these scenes of confusion little Miss Agatha at No. 4 stood
at attention in a fur overcoat and a big pair of boots that would
easily slip on, with a coal-scuttle on her head to keep off bombs. She
stood there warm, safe, and respectably clad, waiting till the house
crashed about her and the time came to save herself.
I hate to think of the Zeppelins coming; but if they do come I
hope--how I hope!--I shall be near No. 4 to see the indomitable little
lady emerge.
* * * * *