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Updated: June 2, 2025
"Quite the contrary, Uncle John," said Mrs. Bagshaw. "Claudius and I have just had one of our most desperate quarrels." And here the happy pair giggled, and exchanged looks which were meant to imply that their most desperate quarrels were mere kitten's play; and that Uncle John did so interpret them, he made manifest by a knowing shake of his forefinger.
The Conservatives called him the old jackass and the old army mule and the old booze fighter and the old grafter and the old scoundrel. John Henry Bagshaw was, I suppose, one of the greatest political forces in the world. He had flowing white hair crowned with a fedora hat, and a smooth statesmanlike face which it cost the country twenty-five cents a day to shave.
Bagshaw, still retaining his old business-like habits of activity and industry, had contrived to wait on every person named in the list, all of whom had promised their attendance; and Mrs. Bagshaw had received from the poulterer a positive assurance that he would raise heaven and earth to supply her with pigeons on the 23d of the ensuing August! Committees were forthwith summoned.
Bagshaw, referring to the barometer, "the instrument for indicating the present state and probable changes of the weather still maintains its elevation, and I tell you what, dear, if the weather should be preposterous on the 24th of August, suppose, instead of going into the north, as we did last year, we migrate into Kent or Surrey?
As these were indispensable to the amusements of the day, a servant was despatched for them. He couldn't be gone longer than half an hour. Half an hour! thought Bagshaw; 'tis eleven now; and the tide.
Bagshaw." And before he could stop himself he had groaned, "Oh, lord!" She "flew up" and he rushed in tumultuously to make amends for his blunder and prevent her flying up. "Mark, I do wish " "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I really am most awfully sorry, Mabel. 'Oh, lord''s not really profanity. You know it's not. It's just my way " "I know that." But he persevered.
Uncle John, indeed, did utter something about the pug and the child two such nuisances people bringing their brats into grownup company. At length the procession set out: the Bagshaws, Uncle John, and Jack Richards bringing up the rear in a hackney-coach. On reaching the corner of the street, Mrs. Bagshaw called out to the driver to stop. "What is the matter, dear?" said Bagshaw.
Everybody crowded round Bagshaw on the steps of the Mariposa House and shook his hand and said they were proud to see the day and that the Liberal party was the glory of the Dominion and that as for this idea of non-partisan politics the very thought of it made them sick. And it was just at this juncture, with one hour of voting left, that Mr.
No team which contained Lambert could help being splendid, but as regards cricket we were the most futile side it is possible to imagine, and Bagshaw, who was a really good sort, was also exactly the right man to captain it.
He kept a little account in one bank and a big account in the other, so that he was a rich man or a poor man at the same time. Add to that that John Henry Bagshaw was perhaps the finest orator in Mariposa. That, of course, is saying a great deal. There are speakers there, lots of them that can talk two or three hours at a stretch, but the old war horse could beat them all.
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