"So brother George being crotchety, as I said, Mum, 'e sent me word as
'e wouldn't never speak to me again in this world, and 'e didn't know as
ever 'e would in the world to come--I'd like you to put that all in,
please, Mum, so's to let Frank know 'ow it all is. Now, do you suppose,
Mum, if I was to die, as brother George'd come to my funeral?"
I hardly knew what answer to make after the "cut everlasting" with which
George had threatened his sister, but I had an idea that I was beginning
to understand Mrs. Watt's tastes. "Well," I said weakly, "I don't
know--funerals are very pleasant things."
It was the right note and Mrs. Watt took it up keenly. "That's what I
always says, Mum," she said eagerly. "I'd sooner go to a good funeral
than I would a wedding any day of the week. You've got that down about
brother George? Yes, and please say as it was beautiful polished wood,
the coffin--and real brass 'andles."
"But, Mrs. Watt," I said despairingly, "that'll bring us quite to the
end of the paper, and we've never even wished him many happy returns
yet. Have you another sheet?"
"I haven't got no more than the one sheet, but I dessay as there's room
to say as I'm his loving mother, and 'ope it finds 'im well, as it
leaves me."
I managed to pinch in the traditional salutation; the sheet was enclosed
in an envelope as sepulchral of aspect as itself, and with much
misgiving I put Frank's birthday letter into the first pillar-box that I
found.
Just a week later I had occasion to go down Paradise Rents again. I had
no intention of calling on Mrs. Watt, being more than a little afraid of
the reception that her son Frank might have accorded to the letter that
was to bring bright cheer to his birthday. But she ran from her door as
I passed to meet and greet me. "Do step in, Mum," she entreated. "I must
'ave you see a letter as come this morning from my son Frank, as is at
the Front. Read that, if you please, Mum."
"She must be a real lady that wot comes visiting you," it said. "That
was a letter as she wrote. I don't know as ever I read such a beautiful
letter. All the trench 'as read it, and they says so too."
I sighed heavily with relief. Mrs. Watt was a judge of her son's
literary taste.
* * * * *