"Well, Uncle Tom," I said, leaning over the gate, "and what did you
think of London?"
On Monday morning Uncle Tom Brimacombe had driven off in his trap with
his wife to the nearest station, five miles away, and had gone up to
London for the first time in his life, "to see about a legacy."
"Lunnon! mai laife. It's a vaine plaace. Ai used 'think Awkeyampton
was a big town, but ai'm barmed if Lunnon dawn't beat un.
"As you knaw, Zur, us 'ad to get up and gaw off 'bout three in th'
morn'n, and us got upalong Lunnon 'bout tain. Well, the waife knew 'er
waay 'bout, laike; 'er 's bin to Plymouth 'fore now. Zo when us gets
out of the traain us gaws inzaide a sort er caage what taakes us down
a 'awl in the ground. Ai was fraightened out 'me laife. 'Yer,' ai sez,
'wur be us gwaine then?'
"'Dawn'ee axno questions, me dyur,' sez the waife, 'or ai'll vorget
ahl what the guard in the traain tawld us.'
"Well, baimbai the caage stops gwaine down and us gets out, and ai'm
blawed if us wadn't in a staation ahl below the ground! Then a traain
comes out of anither 'awl, and befwer us 'ad zat down proper inzaide
un, 'er was off agaain, 'thout waitin' vur watter nor noth'n'. Well,
we zat us down and thur was tu little maids a-vaacin' us what 'adn'
mwer'n lef' school a yer'tu, and naw zinner do they zet eyes on me
than one of 'n whispers zimmat to tither and they bawth starts gazin'
at my 'at and laaf'n'.
"Well, ai stid it vur some taime and at laast ai cuden' a-bear it naw
longer, so ai says to the waife, 'Fur whai they'm laaf'n' then? What's
wrong wi' my 'at?'
"'Dawn'ee taake naw nawtice of they,' 'er says. 'The little 'uzzies
ought to be at 'awm look'n' aafter the chicken, 'staid of gallivantin'
about ahl bai thursalves. Yure 'at's all raight.'
"Ai was wear'n' me awld squeer brown bawlerat what ai wears to Laanson
market on Zat'dys.
"Well, zune us gets out, though ai caan't tall'ee whur tu 'twas, and
ai caan't tall'ee what us did nither, vur me 'aid was gwaine round an'
round and aachin' vit to burst. But us vound the plaace us was aafter
and saigned ahl the paapers wur the man tawld us tu. Then, when us
gets outsaide, the waife, 'er says, 'Look'ee, me dyur, thur's a bit
of graass and some trees; us'll gawn zit down awver there and eat our
paasties.'
"Maighty pwer graass 'twas tu, but thur was seats, so us ait our
paasties thur, and us bawth started crai'in when us bit into un. They
zort 'er taasted of 'awm, laike.
"Then ahl't once the waife, 'er says, 'Pon mai word, thur's a man
taak'n our vottygraff.' And thur 'e was, tu, with a black tarpaulin
awver 'is 'aid! 'Come away, me dyur,' says she; 'ai'm not gwaine to
paay vur naw vottygraffs. Ai 'ad one done at Laanson 'oss shaw when
ai was a gal, and it faaded clean away insaide a twelve-month.' Zo us
gaws back along the staation agaan and comes 'awm just in taime to get
the cows in.
"Well, next evenin' ai went down along 'The Duke' to tall 'em ahl
'bout Lunnon, but when ai gets insaide they ahl starts shout'n' and
bangin' thur mugs and waav'n the paaper at me. 'What's come awver yu?'
ai axes un; 'yume ahl gone silly then?'
"'Theym bin and put yure vottygraff in the paaper, Uncle,' says John
Tonkin, and 'awlds un out vur me to look. And thur, sure 'nuff, 'twas,
with the waife in tu! So ai gets un to let me cut'n out and keep'n.
Yur 'tis if 'eed laike to see un."
Uncle Tom fumbled in his pocket, drew out a cutting and handed it to
me. There surely enough was a photo of him and "the waife," sitting on
a public garden-seat eating pasties and underneath the legend--
"SUITS YOUNG AND OLD ALIKE.
An old couple snapped in Hyde Park.
The gentleman, smart though elderly,
is seen wearing a brown model of _The
Daily Mail_ hat."
* * * * *
[Illustration: =AFTER THE BALL.=
"_The Spirit of Jazz._" "TAXI!"
_Taxi-Driver._ "SORRY, SIR--OLE NICK 'AS JUST COPPED ME."]
* * * * *