"My Dearest Mamma,--I have had the most delightful time you can
possibly think of. Everybody and everything has been so nice! And Jack
has been teaching me sculling. And--oh, what do you think?--he drowned
me! Yes--completely! Only, of course, it was all my fault. And he
pulled me out of the water by the hair of my head--or something; I
don't know what, or how. Wasn't it noble of him? I never enjoyed
anything so much in all my life!
"But I will tell you all about it. I know you must feel anxious. Only
don't think I'm dead, because I'm not. I haven't even caught a cold.
All owing to Charlie. He says I wasn't in the water long enough;
that's what he says. I assure you I was in the water quite long enough
for me!
"You know, ever since we've been down here we've been on the river
every day, Charlie and I. His mother--Mrs. Mason, you know--doesn't
care for the water; she says it's damp. But I think that's because she
knows that two are company, and is tender-hearted--like you, my
dearest Momkins! Besides, she likes fussing about and paying visits,
and she is so good--I hope that I shall be as good as she is one of
these fine days! But you can never tell!
"Of course it was very nice being pulled about. Only Charlie was so
aggravating! He wouldn't do in the least bit what you told him. I
would say to him before we started:
"'Charlie, do take me for a long row--now, promise me!' And he would
say:
"'Certainly. Fourteen miles out and fifteen in."
"'Don't be silly! I wish you would--I do so like to be pulled.'
"He would be standing on the bank with his back to the water, and with
me just in front of him. He would stretch out his arm.
"'Tip us your flipper!' He meant, 'Give me your hand.' When he chooses
Charlie can be slangy. 'I'll pull you into the river.'
"It was not the slightest use my talking. I would sigh, and get into
the boat and hope for the best. But I never got it. No!
"As soon as we had gone three or four hundred yards Charlie would pull
towards a little island, which is just beyond the bend in the river--I
don't know who put it there; I know that I often wished that it was
further--and row right round it into a sort of little creek which was
on the other side, which was just large enough to hold the boat, and
where no one could see us because of the trees. So far as privacy was
concerned we might as well have been in the heart of a virgin forest.
And there Charlie would stop, and do nothing else but talk; though I'm
bound to confess that he chose interesting subjects of conversation as
a rule, because generally, when he wasn't talking of himself, he was
talking of me. And it is such a help to conversation when one is well
acquainted with the topic under discussion. But he did so annoy me,
because he would never do what I told him. I wanted him to row me to
Oxford, or somewhere. But he said it was so hot--I didn't feel
hot!--and Oxford was twenty miles away, and more. That was nonsense,
because quite little electric launches go there and back in a day. At
least, I am nearly sure they do.
"But what irritated me more than anything else was because he kept on
asking me why, if I was so fond of rowing, with the thermometer four
hundred degrees above bursting point--I don't believe it was anything
like so hot as that, but that is what he said--I didn't row myself. He
knew I couldn't. But I made up my mind that I would learn, and, what
is more, I would teach myself: I would show him what I could do.
"So one morning I got up, all alone, quite early, without breathing a
single word to anyone. I don't know how early it was, but I know it
was early, because, when I let myself through the dining-room
window--French window--into the garden, there was not a creature in
sight. The garden runs right down to the river. The boat is kept tied
to the bank. I pulled it close and got into it--and directly I got
into it it wobbled.
"Dearest mamma, even at that last moment--or at that first moment,
whichever it was--I almost wished I hadn't come. Suppose I should
upset! I do believe I should have gone straight back again to bed,
only I couldn't. The boat had drifted to the end of the string and was
ever so far from the land, and how to get it back again I didn't know.
So I sat still, and scarcely dared to breathe. But it did seem so
silly to sit still like that. If anybody saw me what should I say? I
had a pair of nail-scissors in my pocket, and with them I cut the
string. They were a very small pair, and the string was thick and it
was wet. It took me a long time to cut it. But I succeeded at last. I
was adrift on the waters!
"Dearest mamma, have you ever felt what it is like to be adrift, all
alone by yourself, in a dinghy?--you know what that is, I am sure. I
think that is how it is spelt. I hope you never have, for your own
sake. It is awful! I could have screamed, only I dared not, for
fear of upsetting the boat. I had never thought of the oars until
I was adrift. And when I did think of them my heart went into my
mouth--between ourselves, I believe it was there already. They were
generally taken out of the boat at night. But, fortunately, Charlie
had been too lazy the evening before and had left them in. And there
they were, staring me in the face. I took hold of one very gently,
but directly I began to lift it the boat began again to wobble. I
tried to think I didn't care. I clenched my teeth and I kept on
lifting the oar, and at last I got it straight up in the air--like a
scaffold-pole. I had had no idea it was so heavy. It was all I could
do to hold it; in fact, I couldn't hold it. To my horror it slipped
out of my grasp and fell into the stream with a splash. It drenched me
with water from head to foot. And there it was, floating about by
itself, ever so far away.
"I quite abandoned hope. I gave myself up for lost. I tried to collect
my presence of mind and to think of the Royal Humane Society's
directions for drowning--which are printed on the board in Hyde Park,
you know. Judged by the light of after events, losing that oar was the
most fortunate thing which could have happened to me. If I had not
lost it I should have drowned myself. My body might have been lying at
the bottom of the river even now. But I did not know that at the time.
And after I had abandoned hope it was all I could do to keep from
crying.
"Suddenly someone called to me from the bank. It was Charlie. He was
not very well dressed; he had his towel over his arm; he was going for
his morning bathe. But I don't think I ever had loved him so much as
when I heard his voice and saw him standing there--no, not even in
that glad moment when first he told me that he loved me and asked me
to be his wife.
"'Oh, Charlie!' I cried. 'I'm drowning!'
"'That's all right!' It sounded unfeeling, but I knew what he meant.
'I'll swim out to you.'
"He leaped head foremost into the river as if it had been nothing at
all, and swam out to me as if he had been a dog. He swam first of all
to the oar, and then he swam to the boat.
"'Sit still!' he said.
"But it was not the slightest use my sitting still when he himself
nearly pulled the boat right over. Almost before I knew it he was
sitting on the seat in front of me, sopping wet and laughing.
"'What's the meaning of this?' he asked.
"'I'm learning to row.'
"'You looked as if you were learning to row! Well, have you learnt?'
"'Charlie, you're not to laugh at me! It isn't right. Some girls have
people to teach them rowing--people who care for them, that is. But I
haven't, so of course I have to teach myself. And I have to get up in
the small hours of the morning to do it too.' I sighed--or I chose to
let him think I did--'I might have been drowned.'
"'That's true--you might.' He looked at me hard, and I believe there
was a twinkle in his eyes. But as I looked right past him, far across
the water, and he saw that I was serious, I think that it went no
further. 'Look here, Miss Whitby----'
"'You're not to call me Miss Whitby, Charlie!'
"'Very well, I won't. Look here, young person----'
"'And you're not to call me young person either. I'm not a young
person.'
"'Then look here, old chap----'
"'Charlie Mason, if you call me old chap I'll get out of the boat this
instant!'
"'That's right. Do.' He pretended to wait for me to get out. I was not
so absurd. He went on: 'I don't know if you're aware that it's easier
to learn rowing with one scull than with two?'
"'How was I to know that? No one ever told me. Nobody takes sufficient
interest in me to tell me anything.'
"'If you had betrayed the slightest sign of desiring the information I
would have taken sufficient interest in you to tell you that. I came
out here to have a dip. I have had half of it. During the interval,
before I have the other half, I shall have pleasure in imparting to
you that instruction for which your soul professes to yearn.' I had
said nothing about my soul, or about yearning either; I am not so
profane. He pointed to the seat behind me. 'Get on to that seat and
sit in the middle.'
"'You must take the boat to shore first. You know how strongly I
object to changing places while the boat is in the middle of the
river; it does make it wobble so.'
"'Is the teacher to obey or to be obeyed? Execute my commands!'
"I 'executed his commands,' and the boat did not turn over. Charlie
moved on to the seat which I had occupied. He showed me his back.
"'Do as I do.'
"I did as he did, or I tried to. He put one of the oars in its place
in the water without the slightest difficulty. I did not find it by
any means so easy.
"'May I ask, before we proceed any further, if it is your intention to
knock me overboard?' He said that simply because I happened to hit him
with my oar as I was lifting it. The thing would not go right. I
daresay that I did knock him two or three times, but there was really
no necessity why he should make a fuss, as he did do. 'Is your scull
having a row with you, or are you having a row with it? What is the
matter?'
"Thank you, nothing is the matter."
"I scorned to complain.
"'I'm glad to learn it; I hate to hear of people falling out. Now, are
you all right?'
"'I am perfectly right.'
"He glanced round to inspect me.
"'Yes, you look perfectly right. You've got your scull the wrong way
round.' I turned the thing. 'Now you've got it upside down.'
"'What do you mean? You don't mean to tell me that the other end ought
to be in the water?'
"'No, I don't mean to tell you quite that, but I do mean to tell you
that you ought to hold it so that the hollow part of the blade looks
in front of you. It's an elementary fact, but it is a fact.' I turned
the thing again. 'Suppose you put three or four feet more of it out of
the boat. As you're holding it at present a good part of your scull
seems to run to handle.' I pushed some more of the thing through the
place they call the rowlock. 'I didn't tell you to put the whole of it
out of the boat; it's just as well to keep something to catch hold of,
if only for the look of the thing. If you observe, there's a strip of
leather round the scull. That strip of leather marks the point where
the scull is supposed to rest in the rowlock. That's better. Your
hands are wrong; shift them. Hold your scull as I am holding mine.'
"It was all very well of him to talk like that, but it was most
unfair, besides being ridiculous. His hands are, at least, twice as
large as mine; he could get right hold of his oar, while I could
scarcely get hold of mine at all. But I declined to argue.
"'Now, when I say "pull," pull. And it's about time that somebody did
begin to pull, or very shortly we shall be aground. Now, pull!'
"For some reason, I don't know what, the boat began to turn right
round. Charlie immediately stopped rowing. I had never begun. Of
course, at once Charlie tried to be funny.
"'I see the progress of this boat is going to be conducted on the
tee-to-tum principle. May I ask why you didn't pull?'
"'Because I couldn't.'
"'Why couldn't you?'
"'Because I couldn't get my oar out of the water.'
"'So I should imagine. There appears to be six feet more of it in the
water than there ought to be. This is not intended to be a lesson in
punting. In punting one desires to feel the bed of the river; you and
I do not want to get quite so deep.'
"'I wish you wouldn't laugh at me.'
"'My dear May, nothing can be further from my thoughts. How could I
dare? Let us try again. Before making our second effort I should,
perhaps, tell you that it is advisable to put your scull in just deep
enough to cover the blade, and then to pull it steadily out again.
There's no hurry. Take your time; there's no fear of our going ashore
just yet. At present we look more like crossing the river. Now, are
you ready. When I say the word--pull!'
"Again the boat began to turn.
"'Charlie, I cannot get my oar out of the water. I'm not as strong as
a horse.'
"He looked at me and laughed. I could have laughed, only I was afraid
of crying; it was so vexing to feel one was so stupid.
"'When I was a small boy and I first started to row I couldn't get my
oar out of the water, except when I didn't want to, and then it came
out too easily. See, May, I'll keep the boat straight, and you have
one or two shots at paddling.'
"I had what he called 'one or two shots at paddling,' that is, I just
dipped my oar into the water and pulled. I began to feel that I was
getting the hang of the thing--Charlie's own words. I saw that it was
going to be much harder than I had ever imagined, but I did not mind
that, because, as I say, I did feel that I was getting on.
"'Now,' said Charlie, 'I'll paddle.'
"Directly he began to paddle the boat began to turn.
"'What makes the boat go round?'
"'It's because you don't pull strong enough. If two persons don't pull
equally--that is, together, and with equal strength--the boat is bound
to turn.'
"When he said that I made up my mind that I would pull stronger; the
boat should not go round. So I shut my eyes and clenched my teeth and
I pulled with all my might, and before I knew what had happened, I was
in the water!
"Charlie says that I caught a crab. He says, in my haste and my
excitement--I didn't know I was excited, but I suppose I must have
been--I did not put the oar into the water at all; I pulled with all
my might at the vacant air. I know that I fell backwards off my seat,
and that I made a wild grab at anything and everything, and that the
boat went over.
"I never shall forget it. The water got into my ears and eyes and nose
and mouth, and I thought that I never should stop going down. Then,
all of a sudden, I found myself on the surface again, with the sky
above me and Charlie's arm about my waist.
"Keep still," he said.
I did keep still; he says I did keep still. He says himself that I
behaved like a regular trump. I do declare to you, mamma, that I never
felt the least bit uneasy directly I felt Charlie's arm round my
waist. Wasn't it strange?
"'You won't let me drown, Charlie, will you?'
"That was all I said.
"'Not if I know it. It's all right, May; we're going shares in the
other half of my dip, that's all. I'll take you ashore as easy as
winking.'
"I don't know exactly what it was I said, but I believe that I said
some absurd thing about that, if I was drowned, he would know that I
loved him. But I do know that he kissed me, then and there, while he
was holding me up for dear life, in the middle of the river.
"I never fainted till we got ashore, and then I only just dropped off.
Charlie carried me right off to my bedroom, and there was a fine
to-do. But I wasn't going to stop in bed--not I. I just changed my
clothes and went straight downstairs to breakfast, and, after
breakfast, I went for another row. And I went for another after lunch,
and I got on first rate. Charlie declares that, with practice, I shall
make as good an oarswoman as you would care to see; and, after we are
married, he's going to teach me swimming--so he says.
"But we're not married yet."
Outside!
Stacey-Lumpton wanted to go in a cab. I said that a 'bus was good
enough for me. He looked me up and down as if I were some inferior
kind of animal.
"I'll pay for the cab."
That settled it. I told him that I could not think of allowing such a
thing. He brushed a speck of dust off the silk facings of his
frockcoat. Then, with his pocket-handkerchief, he brushed the top of
one of the fingers of his lemon-coloured kid gloves--where it had
touched his coat.
"But I've never travelled in an omnibus."
"In that case it'll be a new sensation, and a new sensation's
everything! Read the daily paper--it's the salt of life."
"But all sorts of extraordinary people travel in an omnibus!"
"I should rather think they do. Why, the very last time I was on one
the Archbishop of Canterbury sat on the seat in front of me, the Duke
of Devonshire was on my right, a person high in favour at Marlborough
House was just behind, while there was no one below the rank of a
baronet in sight."
He looked at me, as he fumbled for his eyeglass, as if he thought
I might be getting at him. Before he could make up his mind a
"Walham Green" came lumbering towards us. Stopping it, I hustled
Stacey-Lumpton into the road before he in the least understood what
was happening.
"Now then, look alive! Here's the very 'bus we want! Jump up!"
I assisted him on to the step. He made as if to go inside. I twisted
him towards the stairs. He remonstrated.
"My dear fellow, I really must beg of you to allow me to get inside
this omnibus."
"Nonsense. You'll be crushed to death, besides being suffocated alive.
There's plenty of room outside. Up you toddle."
I don't know about toddling, but urged, no doubt, to an appreciable
degree by the pressure which I exercised from behind, he did begin to
mount the stairs gingerly one by one. I followed him. When he was near
the top I sang out to the conductor.
"All right!" The conductor stamped his foot. The 'bus started. Then,
to Stacey-Lumpton, "Hold tight!"
He held tight just in time. He seemed surprised. "Good gracious! I
almost tumbled! The omnibus has started! Tell him to stop at once, I'm
falling!"
"Not you. The police won't allow them to stop more than a certain
time. They're bound to keep on moving. Shove along."
"This is most dangerous. I'm not used to this kind of thing. And the
roof seems full."
"There are two empty seats in front there, just behind the
driver--move on."
He moved on after a fashion of his own. He seemed to find the task of
preserving his equilibrium, and at the same time of steering his way
between the two rows of occupied garden seats, a little difficult. He
struck one man upon the head. He seized a lady by her bonnet. He all
but thrust the point of his umbrella into another person's eye. He
grabbed an old gentleman by the collar of his coat. This method of
proceeding tended to make him popular.
"Driver!" exclaimed the old gentleman whom Stacey-Lumpton had grabbed,
slightly mistaking the situation, "This person is drunk. He ought not
to be allowed in such a condition on an omnibus."
Stacey-Lumpton was too confused to remonstrate. He went floundering
on. Presently he kicked against a box which a gentleman of the coster
class had placed beside himself on the roof. In trying to recover
himself he brought his hand down pretty heavily on its owner's hat.
Said owner lost no time in calling his attention to the thing which he
had done.
"Where do you think you're a-coming to? I shouldn't be surprised but
what you thought this 'bus was made for you. You do that again and
I'll send you travelling, and don't you seem to forget it neither."
Stacey-Lumpton had reached a vacant seat at last. I sat beside him.
Immediately behind us was the coster. He had taken off his hat and was
lovingly examining it. It was an ancient billycock, which had been in
somebody's family for several generations. A friend accompanied him.
"If I was you, Jimmy," observed his friend, "I should make that cove
pay for your 'at."
"Make 'im pay for it? He ain't got no money. Do 'e look as though 'e
'ad?"
"Well, I should make 'im give yer 'is 'at for yourn. He's bashed your
'at in, ain't 'e?"
Jimmy acted on the hint. Leaning forward, he thrust his reminiscence
of a head-covering under Stacey-Lumpton's nose.
"I say, I don't know if you know that you've bashed my 'at in,
guv'nor?"
Stacey-Lumpton raised his fingers to his nostrils.
"Take it away, sir--horribly smelling thing."
"Wot are you calling a 'orribly smelling thing? Wot would you say if I
was to bash your 'at in?"
"I should bash it in if I was you, Jimmy."
"So I will if 'e don't look out, and so I tell 'im."
The gentleman whose coat had been grabbed still seemed unappeased, and
still seemed labouring under a misapprehension.
"Persons who are in an intoxicated condition ought not to be allowed
on public conveyances." I turned to Stacey-Lumpton.
"I don't know if you are aware that you almost pulled that gentleman's
coat off his back?"
The old gentleman's observations, although addressed to no one in
particular, had been audible to all. Twisting himself round in his
seat, Stacey-Lumpton proceeded to explain.
"I hope, sir, I didn't hurt you."
The coster chose to take this remark as being addressed to him.
"But you 'urt my 'at! I give fourpence for that 'at not three months
ago. 'Ow d'yer suppose I'm going to keep myself in 'ats?"
"If I have been so unfortunate as to damage your hat, sir, I shall be
happy to present you with the sum of fourpence with which to provide
yourself with another."
Jimmy's friend highly approved of this suggestion. He immediately
proceeded to embellish it with an addition of his own.
"That's right. You give 'im fourpence and you give me fourpence.
That's what I call be'aving like a gentleman."
Stacey-Lumpton failed quite to follow the line of reasoning.
"Why should I give you fourpence?"
"Why? Because I asks for it. I suppose you can 'ear me. You bashes in
my friend's 'at, and I'm 'is friend, and we shares and shares alike.
As you treats 'im you treats me. Ain't that right, Jimmy?" Jimmy said
it was.
"Quite right, 'Enery--it's quite right. If the gentleman is a
gentleman 'e'll give us fourpence apiece--both the two of us. 'E looks
a gentleman, don't 'e? 'Is 'at wasn't never bought for fourpence--no,
nor for three fourpences neither."
A feminine voice was heard in the rear. It was the lady Stacey-Lumpton
had seized by the bonnet; she seemed to have been nursing a grievance.
"And what about me? I suppose it doesn't matter anything at all about
me. Oh dear no! I have had my bonnet tore almost off my head, and my
hair too, but, of course, I am nobody. If a drunken wretch was to
handle some wives some husbands would want to know the reason why. But
if I was to be thrown right off the omnibust, and trampled under foot,
my husband would sit still and never say a word--oh dear no!"
The husband in question appeared to be a stout individual who, seated
by the lady's side, leaned his chin on the handle of an umbrella. He
seemed to consider that the remark was, at least, partially addressed
to him.
"It was only an accident, Eliza."
"Oh, of course, it was only an accident. Whenever anyone insults me it
always is an accident. Some husbands wouldn't say it was an accident,
but I have to look after myself, I have." She immediately proceeded to
do it. Raising her voice she addressed herself to Stacey-Lumpton.
"Young man, I don't know if you happen to be aware that you've
scrunched my new bonnet out of shape, and drove a hairpin through my
head. Is that the way you always get on omnibuses?"
Stacey-Lumpton was all apologies.
"I beg ten thousand pardons, madam, but the fact is I am not
accustomed to travelling on an omnibus, and I'm afraid----"
"Fares, please." The conductor came along cutting the apologies short.
"Your fare if you please, sir."
"What is the fare?"
"Arf a crown."
This was Jimmy's friend.
"Where are you going?"
This was the conductor. I explained.
"We want a pennyworth." I turned to Stacey-Lumpton. "I have no
coppers. Have you got twopence?"
He produced a sovereign purse.
"Have you change for a sovereign?"
This to the conductor, and the conductor was contemptuous.
"Change for a sovereign! I haven't got change for no sovereign, unless
you like to take it all in coppers."
"Take change for a sovereign in coppers? What do you suppose I should
do with a sovereign's worth of coppers?"
"I don't know nothing at all about it. I've got to do with 'em,
haven't I? Twopence, please!"
Jimmy's friend interposed.
"You 'and me over the sovering. I'll change it. I got
sevenpence-'apenny,"
Jimmy chorussed.
"And I dessay I could make it up to a bob, and then we'll take our two
'ats out of it, and then we'll give yer wot's left next time we sees
yer--eh, 'Enery?"
The driver, turning his head, nodded to his colleague.
"That's all right, Tom. You give the gentlemen their tickets. I'll see
you get your twopence. The gentlemen can owe it me." He gave his whip
an artistic twirl. "I've known myself what it's like to have a
sovereign and no change to be had--ah, and more than a sovereign,
though you mightn't think it to see me here."
Not feeling inclined to be indebted to an omnibus driver for the loan
of twopence, I suddenly discovered that I had two coppers. The
conductor retired. There was an interval of silence--spent, I imagine,
by Stacey-Lumpton in endeavouring to smooth his ruffled plumage.
Presently Jimmy's friend began again:
"I say, Jimmy, how about our fourpences?"
"That's what I say. Guv'nor, 'ow about our fourpences? I ain't seen no
fourpence."