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Updated: June 17, 2025
You should really start a school of Modern Literature, my dear fellow, and set up as a professor of the same!" "Please get my scissors, Frank," said Miss Pimpernell, trying to stop our wordy warfare. I got them; but I had my return blow at the curate all the same. "I suppose you'd be one of my first pupils, Mr Mawley," I said. "I think I could coach you up a little!"
"`Some village Hampden, that with dauntless breast, The little tyrant of his fields withstood, Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood!" "Hullo, Lorton!" shouted out Mr Mawley again close at my back, when I had believed him to be some distance off. "Hullo, Lorton! Don't you get into heroics, my boy.
He always talks to me about literature and art, and politics, too although I do not care much about them just as if I were a man like himself, and blessed with the same understanding!" "Oh," said I, "the curate is usually fond of hearing himself talk!" "You need not abuse poor Mr Mawley," she said, laughing.
None the less he looked at them doubtfully, and said in a reproachful tone: "It's very late, Master Terror. You can't expect Sir James to see people at this hour." "I know it's late; but the business is important very important," said the Terror firmly. Mawley hesitated. His admiration of Mrs. Dangerfield made him desirous of obliging her children.
You say I ought to have considered myself lucky to get even that slight modicum of notice? But I did not so consider myself. I was not by any means contented. Where did you ever find a lover worth his salt who was? To tell the truth, I was horribly jealous of Mawley.
"What, no exceptions; not even my favourite Longfellow?" asked Min. "No," said Mr Mawley, "not one although Longfellow belongs more by rights to the water-cart line.
"I believe, sir," said Shuffler, blinking his sound eye furiously the while, to give a facetious effect to his words, "he's agoin' to get married. So my missus says at least, sir; and she gen'rally knows wot's agoin' on. Wemmenfolk finds out them things somehow or other!" "Mawley going to be married!" I repeated. "Nonsense, Shuffler! it is probably some mistake.
I belonged to another world now, as it were; and, the announcements of births Mrs Mawley had already presented her lord and master with a little pledge of her affection and bridals, and burials, at the two last of which I might once have assisted, hardly awoke a passing interest in me! I was too far removed from the orbit in which these phenomena were displayed.
I said, when he gave me another opening to put in a word. "He's such a rabid Liberal." "Mawley is thorough," said the vicar; "I do not agree with his views, certainly; but he really believes in them and acts up to his theories, which is more than can be said for a good many of our `Liberal' statesmen!
Ah! This was news. I chuckled immensely over the idea of the relict of the gin distiller settling down like a wet blanket on the connubial couch of the curate! Whenever the ghost of "poor dear papa," in a reminiscential form, was made to walk the earth again, I would be avenged for all the quips and jibes which Mawley had formerly selected me to receive!
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