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Such deep-browed men!... And to think that there they are making history! There they are putting together the plans of a new world. Almos light-heartedly. There is Shaw, and Webb, and Wilkins the author, and Toomer, and Doctor Tumpany the most wonderful people! There you see them discussing, deciding, planning! Just think THEY ARE MAKING A NEW WORLD!"
"Tumpany is people that comes to stay in the pink room wif trunks, and we play wif them and make them do somfing to amuse 'em all the time hard, and give 'em nicer things than we have to eat, and father shaves too much and tuts him and wears his little dinky coat to dinner. And by and by when they've gone away Ann-stasia says, 'Glory be! and muvver goes to sleep.
Straight toward Katy she went, and with her small hands behind her back and her blue eyes fixed full on Katy's face, repeated with the utmost solemnity the following "poem:" "I'm a messender, you see, Fwom Hymen's Expwess Tumpany. All these little bundles are For my Aunty Taty Tarr; If she knows wot's dood for her She will tiss the messender."
But the unsaid things those backs expressed broke out, I remarked, with refreshed virulence in the various organs of the various sections of the party next week. I talked, I remember, with Dr. Tumpany, a large young man in a still larger professional frock-coat, and with a great shock of very fair hair, who was candidate for some North Country constituency.
And Miss Miniver fell discussing whether Goopes or Bernard Shaw or Tolstoy or Doctor Tumpany or Wilkins the author had the more powerful and perfect mind in existence at the present time. She was clear there were no other minds like them in all the world. Part 4
Tumpany." "We mustn't confuse Socialism with the Socialists," I said; "that's the moral of it.
But muvver, if you are the tumpany, you can't go to sleep when you've gone away, can you?" A voice joined me in laughter, Maria Maxwell's, from inside the open window of the dining room.
Tumpany in his aggressive frock-coat pegging out a sort of copyright in Socialism, were the centre and wings of the angelic side. It was nonsense. But how was I to put the truth to her? "I don't see things at all as you do," I said. "I don't see things in the same way." "Think of the poor," said Margaret, going off at a tangent. "Think of every one," I said.
Then one evening Ann Veronica went with Miss Miniver into the back seats of the gallery at Essex Hall, and heard and saw the giant leaders of the Fabian Society who are re-making the world: Bernard Shaw and Toomer and Doctor Tumpany and Wilkins the author, all displayed upon a platform.
For some reason she seemed rather astonished at this very usual performance, and putting her hands, boy-fashion, into the pockets of her checked overalls, surveyed herself deliberately, and then looking up at me rather reproachfully remarked, "Tousin Maria says that now you and father are tumpany!" "And what is company?" I asked, rather anxious to know from what new point we were to be regarded.
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