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Updated: June 23, 2025
They had long tails, which some of them carried high in the air, and flourished about in a very eccentric manner. Totty was by no means alarmed. She knew what sort of animals they were. She knew they were baboons. Who does not feel disgust when regarding the hideous mandrill the drill the hamadryas or even the chacma? And all these are baboons.
But it happened that within the same hour she saw Luke Ackroyd, and Luke had proposed a meeting on Saturday afternoon. Totty had no extreme desire to meet him, and yet perhaps she might as well. He talked of going up the river to Battersea Park, as the weather was so fine. So at three on Saturday, Totty stood by the landing-stage at Lambeth.
'I don't know that I shall bother much. It's his own lookout. I shall know what he means if he goes wrong again. 'But 'Well? What? 'You hope he'll keep his promise? Thyrza said, bending a little nearer, and dropping her eyes as soon as she had spoken. 'H'm. Yes. Perhaps I do, said Totty, putting her head on one side.
While Swartboy, assisted by Hendrik, was catching up the twelve yoke-oxen, and attaching them to the disselboom and trektow of the wagon, the "baas" himself, aided by Hans, Totty, and also by Trüey and little Jan, was loading up the furniture and implements. This was not a difficult task.
She wore a plain, tight-fitting grey gown, a small straw hat of the brimless kind, and a white linen collar about her neck. Totty was nineteen; no girl in Lambeth relished life with so much determination, yet to all appearance so harmlessly. Her independence was complete; for five years she had been parentless and had lived alone.
Her arms hung down; her eyes were fixed on the ground. She was thinking that now she understood Thyrza's urgency in wishing to see Totty. Now she understood everything. She moved, as if to go away. Ackroyd could find no word. All he had to say was so much sheer cruelty, and to attempt comfort would be insult. But Lydia faced him again. 'And you think the worst of my sister?
Totty was on her knees, lighting a fire. In her amazement she made no effort to rise. A lighted piece of paper was in her hand; forgetting it, she let the flame creep on till it burnt her fingers. Then she stood up. 'What does she say in the note? she asked with deliberation. Lydia opened her hand and spread out the crumpled paper.
'The Little Shop with the Large Heart' had suffered a grave loss: Miss Totty Nancarrow had withdrawn her custom from it. Totty had patronised Mrs. Bower very steadily for some five years. It was true that the large-hearted shop put a rather large price on certain things, in comparison with what they could be bought for in Lambeth. If you wanted a pot of marmalade, for instance, Mrs.
"Yes, it's a small joke sets men laughing when they sit a-staring at one another with a pipe i' their mouths," said Mrs. Poyser. "Give Bartle Massey his way and he'd have all the sharpness to himself. If the chaff-cutter had the making of us, we should all be straw, I reckon. Totty, my chicken, go upstairs to cousin Dinah, and see what she's doing, and give her a pretty kiss."
The meal was an impressive ceremony, where discourses on duty and against excess of the palate were often the only relishes present. Mr. Totty would paint the miseries of the epicure, and Mrs. Totty those of the dyspeptic, in words of eloquence which made milk-and-sugar-and-water a liquid of priceless moral value, though they never succeeded in strengthening its nutritive effects.
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