  FIFTH WEEK—DIFFICULTIES—HINTS—BOODELS' SECRET—ARRIVAL OF JIMMY LAYDER—A CHANGE—PRACTICAL JOKES—PLAYING THE FOOL—DRESSING UP—MORE JOKES—CHEMICAL LECTURE—EXPERIMENTS—RESULTS—OPEN WINDOWS—COLDS—DEPARTURES—SMALL BY DEGREES—BEAUTIFULLY LESS—THE SHILLING AND THE TUMBLER—BOODELS' LAST—TWO'S COMPANY—CONCLUSION. N ote. Fifth week of our being here. Very happy generally, Miss Medford remarkably nice. Misses Adelaide and Bella are always out with Cazell, Milburd and Chilvern. We've given Jenkyns Soames several hints to go. He won't. If I wasn't President—I should like to—but Byrton's always out with Miss Medford. I wonder that a girl with brains, as she evidently has, can be taken by a fellow, who really seems to think of nothing but riding, driving, and— Jimmy Layder is becoming a nuisance. He is perpetually practically joking. Once and away it's very good fun—when he performs on somebody else, not me. He comes down-stairs quietly (this is one of his favourite tricks—so stupid, too!) and slaps you on the back suddenly, immediately afterwards begging your pardon, and explaining that he mistook you for somebody else. Then the second day he was here, he changed all the boots. The third day I could not find a single thing in its place when I went to dress in a hurry. On my complaining to him, he pretends to be the Clown in the Pantomime (whom he emulates in everything—and really, most dangerously, with a genuine hot poker—so childish, and worse), and putting his hand on his heart he declares “on his honour he didn't do it.” I know, that, when I turn, he sets them all (Miss Medford, too) laughing by making some grotesque face, and, if I face about suddenly, he is staring at nothing on the ceiling, or pretending to catch Happy Thought.—To speak to him quietly, alone. He listens. He owns that his exuberance of animal spirits often leads him away. [Happy Thought.—Wish they'd take him away altogether.] He says he thinks it's owing to the bracing air; adding, that I take a joke so well, he is sure I shan't be angry. I tell him that I don't speak on my own account, but for the sake of others. He promises he will be quiet and serious. At night he keeps his word by coming down dressed like the proverbial methodist Mawworm. An enormous white tie, doubled. His hair combed sadly straight. A high black waistcoat, his trousers shortened, white stockings and shoes. They encourage him by laughing. He addresses everyone as “My Christian Brother,” or “Sister,” and informs them that the Head of the Establishment has requested him to be serious. He insists upon a serious evening, and tells us that Mr. Jenkyns Soames has consented to give a Chemical Lecture “with,” he adds impressively, “experiments.” After dinner, Layder announces that he has an entertainment to commence with. He takes me on one side. We go into the library, which he has prepared as a sort of dressing-room. Happy Thought.—Humour him, and then he'll play practical jokes on somebody else—not me. He says, “Look here, you and I will dress up, and be the lecturer's servants.” Very harmless and funny, seeing that the dresses (which he has brought with him) are a mantle spangled, two or three pairs of tights and Cavalier boots, and a cocked hat. He says he's got a charade, and Milburd will dress up too, and we'll have it before the Lecture. He offers to do my face for me; and does it at once with burnt cork, red and white. Then he goes to dress. I am alone. It is a good idea enlisting under, as it were, his banner, then he won't annoy me. The fire's out here, and changing my dress at this time has made me cold. Meditations by myself when in a costume something between a naval officer, a Spanish grandee, and Richard the Third.—What can be the fun of dressing up? It is so much more comfortable Happy Thought.—Ring and ask for another candle, and for Mr. Layder. Maid servant enters ... gives a shriek and a start, and then—poor girl!.... faints. There is no water at hand.... I don't like to touch her. I've got an idea that people in that state bite, scratch, and kick, if touched. Happy Thought.—Let ill alone. I ring violently. Enter Butler. Fortunately Madame Regniati's maid passes, Butler thinks they're all in the theatre-room hearing some lecture. 10 o'clock. I wait a quarter of an hour. It's too bad. I'll take these stupid things off. Enter Boodels. “Hallo!” he cries. “What on earth are you got up like this for?” I say, testily, “I don't know.” Boodels continues. “Miss Cherton's maid 's been complaining, and says you've been playing tricks on her. Come! Do take off those things.” Do! I don't want pressing. I have been for an hour and a half dressed up here, with my face painted like a Red Indian, and as cold as ice. Layder enters. “Oh, my dear fellow, a thousand pardons. I quite forgot you were here; and we suddenly—I mean the ladies, suddenly altered the programme and wanted me to sing and do some nonsense, so I could not refuse.” Happy Thought.—(I'll vote against his invitation being renewed after this week). Say nothing. I find that Jenkyns Soames, induced to put on a sort of Conjuror's dress, has been waiting to deliver his lecture the Milburd and Layder have arranged the Professor's glass bottles, glass jars, retorts, and all the other articles requisite for a Chemical Lecture. He informs us, that, owing to his friend Mr. Layder's kindness, and to the accident of his having brought with him a few chemicals, he (the Professor) will be enabled to give us an amusing and instructive discourse. “With experiments,” adds Layder gravely, from his seat. Happy Thought.—Get as far away from the lecturer as possible. Near the door. The ladies being nervous, are re-assured by Milburd and Jenkyns Soames commences he says with Hydrogen. (Hear! hear! from Milburd and Layder.) “Hydrogen,” he goes on, “is a most powerful refractor.” “O my Jo!” exclaims the Signor in the front row, which he evidently thinks is too near. “It vill go off, and 'urt some-bod-dy.” The Professor informs him, that Hydrogen mixed with Atmospheric air, in the proportion of two to five, will explode; but he does not mean to exhibit this peculiarity of Hydrogen. He shows us how the lime-light is obtained, and requests that the room may be darkened. Milburd and Layder, turn down the gas, and remove the candles. This is done too suddenly for the Professor, who has some trouble in finding the right materials in the dark. At last he has them. “I will now,” he says, “show you the lime-light. A light of such steadiness and intensity, that it appears to us quite blinding in its power.” The immediate result is a fizz, a spark, and then we are in Madame Regniati begs that the lights may be restored, and asks him to try something else. Apologising for the lime-light (I see Milburd and Layder exchanging winks). The Professor passes on to Oxygen. He shows us a jar of Oxygen. Experiments with an incandescent piece of wood. (Applause.) Another with phosphorus, and another with charcoal. (Great applause, and nothing having happened, we feel ourselves in comparative safety. Madame observes, that she doesn't like anybody playing with fire.) His next theme is “Inexplosive Gases.” Professor.—I will now proceed to mix two colourless bodies which, explosive in themselves, neutralize each other's qualities on combination. You will observe that the same process is used in pouring one gas out of one jar into another, as in pouring water, and it is equally harmless. Here, for instance, is an empty jar, and here is a glass jar full of water. I wish to pour the water from the glass jar into the earthen one. (Hear, hear! from Milburd.) I proceed to do so, and can assure you that the experiment with the gases, is not more harmless and simple than this, with the water. “There's no sort of danger,” he says; “the jar won't burst. I dropped an explosive pellet into it some time ago, and it hasn't been taken out, that's all. The explosive pellets,” he adds, modestly, “are my own invention, and chemically prepared, only to burn in water.” The cracking has ceased. Layder goes out, ostensibly to see if he can procure another jar. In his absence the ladies observe that the ‘cracking thing,’ whatever it was, has left a nasty smell in the room. The Professor, with a smile, thinks that he can obviate this unpleasantness. He has come across a fluid among the chemicals labelled “Parfum du Paradis.” The direction upon it is simply, “Pour it out into a saucer, and everyone will be delighted at the refreshing and delicious odour which will instantaneously pervade even the largest apartment.” “However,” says he, “I will follow the direction.” Forthwith he pours it out. “BUST UP.” The next minute we are all cramming our handkerchiefs to our faces, and making for the door. “Open the windows!” cries Medford, in a fit of coughing. “O my”—cough—“Jo!” exclaims the Signor. “I shall be,”—cough and sneeze, “so ill,”—cough, “eet ees in my nose.” As for the Professor, being just over the horrible compound, he has nearly fainted. ***** The room is cleared. Servants sent to open Happy Thought.—To speak with an air of authority as President, and tell him that it is really too bad of him to carry such a liquid about. He exculpates himself by saying that the Professor didn't know how to use it, and that he oughtn't to have taken the things out of his Practical Joke Box. “His what box?” we ask. “My practical joke box,” he replies, quite calmly. “I've got a box full of practical jokes in chemicals. They're very amusing,” he adds, “if used properly.” The horrid smell is gradually spreading itself throughout the lower part of the house. It is stealing into the drawing-room, it is getting into the morning-room, into the hall, into the passages. “You can't get rid of it,” Layder informs us, “for two or three days. But it's first-rate for killing all insects.” There is, we find, only one room in the house which the nuisance has not reached. The smoking-room. Here we all congregate. Everybody glum. Windows all over the place open. ***** Happy Thought.—Layder gone. Early. He leaves us a note bequeathing us his box of Practical Jokes, and a paper of ‘directions for use,’ with ‘hints for further practical jokes, being jottings for a manual with a practical joke for every day in the year.’ In consequence of the draughts last night, everyone has caught violent colds. The Chertons won't leave their room. Madame Regniati doesn't come down until dinner. Mr. and Mrs. Frimmely pretend to have received a telegram, and say they must go to-morrow. Miss Medford accompanies them; her brother stays. The Signor suddenly remembers that he must proceed to his leet-tel shoot-box at Bodge-bee. Jenkyns Soames writes me a letter from his bedroom, commencing “Sir,” and, considering himself insulted, leaves without saying good-bye to anybody. ***** Committee meeting. Complaints. Examination of accounts. Row in consequence. Amount divided into shares. Chilvern says he's sorry he's left his cheque-book in town. Happy Thought.—Write it on a piece of paper or telegraph for it. Cazell says to me, “I tell you what you ought to do as President. You ought to draw one cheque for the whole expenses, and we'll pay you back. That's the most simple way of doing it.” Put to the vote and the plan carried, with a minority of one (myself). ***** The party gradually broken up. This evening Adelaide Cherton and Madame appear with apologies for leaving us soon after dinner. The smell not nearly evaporated. Byrton and Milburd are gone to join the Signor for some sport. Medford offers to show us his trick with a shilling, and Milburd, being asked to sing, refuses. Boodels (who is melancholy, and in love), asks Medford to play a tune, but Medford says he'd rather not, because nobody will attend to his trick with a shilling, whereupon Chilvern sits down to what he calls “try something” on the piano. What he does try is our temper. Gradually we leave the room and meet to smoke. ***** Next Morning. Violent cold. Happy Thought.—Stay in bed. The only three in the house are Boodels, Medford, and myself. I say, genially, “Well, a little quiet will be pleasant.” Boodels replies, “Yes,” and adds that he's going off this afternoon. I press him to stay. He won't, because, as he tells me privately, that fellow Medford is so confoundedly insulting. They've had a row. Boodels will go. He promises to write to me about his going to be married. At present I'm not to mention it. He takes the butler and cook with him. He says he's very sorry but he'll want them at home now. The housemaid and charwoman officiate. No other servants in the house. Medford and I dine alone. Somebody's taken the keys away by mistake, and we have to break into the cellar to get out the wine. Very little left. After dinner he says, “You heard me talking to Cazell about the shilling and the glass.” I did. I know what's coming, “It's a capital trick,” he goes on; “I'll show it you. Look here.” He shows it me. I am not at all interested. He offers to teach it me. Declined with thanks. He then explains it to me. Happy Thought.—Having done all this once, he'll never try it again with me. Getting comfortable in the smoking-room. We commence talking over all our friends. The difficulty appears to consist in finding any good qualities in them. Medford depreciates everybody, specially if they can do anything in music or theatricals. Getting more comfortable and confidential, I tell Medford that Boodels is going to be married, but doesn't want anyone to know it just yet. Medford says, “Pooh! Boodels is an ass.” Subject dropped. Last Morning.—Charwoman and housemaid hearing that I am going away with Medford, say they can't live alone in this big place. They'd be frightened. Happy Thought.—Opportunity to get rid of them. Do it. Send for old woman and her husband to keep house while HAPPY-THOUGHT HALL. HAPPY THOUGHT.—RIGHT THROUGH THE BOOK. |
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