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Updated: June 22, 2025
Feet and legs! Then our back. And then WHUP we shall go into the bath! That's it. Kick! Kick your mother! And she turned him over. 'Incredible bungler! said the eyes of the nurse. 'Can't she turn him over neater than that? 'Harridan! said the eyes of Mrs Blackshaw. 'I wouldn't let you bath him for twenty thousand pounds!
The women spoke in whispers. And Mrs Blackshaw, after a day spent in being a mother, reconstituted herself a wife, and began to beautify herself for her husband. Yes, there was a Mr Blackshaw, and with Mr Blackshaw the tragedy of the bath commences. Mr Blackshaw was a very important young man.
Indeed, it is within the mark to say that, next to his son, he was the most important young man in Bursley. For Mr Blackshaw was the manager of the newly opened Municipal Electricity Works. And the Municipal Electricity had created more excitement and interest than anything since the 1887 Jubilee, when an ox was roasted whole in the market-place and turned bad in the process.
We will come tomorrow, won't we, auntie? Mr Blackshaw addressed the telephone. 'The Mayor is here, with a lady, and I was just about to show them over the Works, but his Worship insists that I come at once. 'Certainly, the Mayor put in pompously. 'Wonders will never cease, came the thin voice of Mrs Blackshaw through the telephone. 'It's very nice of the old thing!
Thermometer hung in the shade of the veranda registering 105 1/2 degrees. "I see Blackshaw coming across the flat. Call your mother. You bring the leg-ropes I've got the dog-leg. Come at once; we'll give the cows another lift. Poor devils might as well knock 'em on the head at once, but there might be rain next moon. This drought can't last for ever."
And as Mr Blackshaw went down the hill into the town his heart was as black as the street itself with rage and disappointment. He had made his child cry! Someone stopped him. 'Eh, Mester Blackshaw! said a voice, and under the voice a hand struck a match to light a pipe. 'What's th' maning o' this eclipse as you'm treating us to?
'I suppose you'll have to go back to the Works at once? Mr Blackshaw paused, and then nerved himself; but while he was pausing, May, glancing at the two feeble candles, remarked: 'It's very tiresome. I'm sure I shan't be able to see properly. 'No! almost shouted Mr Blackshaw. 'I'll watch this kid have his bath or I'll die for it! I don't care if all the Five Towns are in darkness.
'I told you so! the nurse didn't say, and she rushed to the bed where all the idol's beautiful, clean, aired things were lying safe from splashings, and handed a flannel shirt, about two inches in length, to Mrs Blackshaw. And Mrs Blackshaw rolled the left sleeve of it into a wad and stuck it over his arm, and his poor little vaccination marks were hidden from view till next morning.
Blackshaw and Jansen have no bigger places than we, and families just as large, and yet they make a living. It would be terrible for the little ones to grow up separated; they would be no more to each other than strangers." "Yes; it is all very well for you to talk like that, but how is your father to start again with only five cows in the world? It's no use, you never talk sense.
Roger, who never cried before his bath, was crying, was indubitably crying. And he cried louder and louder. 'Stand where he can't see you, dearest. He isn't used to you at bath-time, said Mrs Blackshaw still coldly. 'Are you, my pet? There! There! Mr Blackshaw effaced himself, feeling a fool. But Roger continued to cry. He cried himself purple.
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