Mr. Britling Sees It Through | Page 8

the back. The centre of the house was a big airy hall,
oak-panelled, warmed in winter only by one large fireplace and
abounding in doors which he knew opened into the square separate
rooms that England favours. Bookshelves and stuffed birds comforted
the landing outside his bedroom. He descended to find the hall
occupied by a small bright bristling boy in white flannel shirt and
knickerbockers and bare legs and feet. He stood before the vacant open
fireplace in an attitude that Mr. Direck knew instantly was also Mr.
Britling's. "Lunch is in the garden," the Britling scion proclaimed, "and
I've got to fetch you. And, I say! is it true? Are you American?"
"Why surely," said Mr. Direck.
"Well, I know some American," said the boy. "I learnt it."
"Tell me some," said Mr. Direck, smiling still more amiably.
"Oh! Well--God darn you! Ouch, Gee-whizz! Soak him, Maud! It's up
to you, Duke...."
"Now where did you learn all that?" asked Mr. Direck recovering.
"Out of the Sunday Supplement," said the youthful Britling.
"Why! Then you know all about Buster Brown," said Mr. Direck. "He's
Fine--eh?"
The Britling child hated Buster Brown. He regarded Buster Brown as a
totally unnecessary infant. He detested the way he wore his hair and the
peculiar cut of his knickerbockers and--him. He thought Buster Brown
the one drop of paraffin in the otherwise delicious feast of the Sunday
Supplement. But he was a diplomatic child.
"I think I like Happy Hooligan better," he said. "And dat ole Maud."
He reflected with joyful eyes, Buster clean forgotten. "Every week," he

said, "she kicks some one."
It came to Mr. Direck as a very pleasant discovery that a British infant
could find a common ground with the small people at home in these
characteristically American jests. He had never dreamt that the fine
wine of Maud and Buster could travel.
"Maud's a treat," said the youthful Britling, relapsing into his native
tongue.
Mr. Britling appeared coming to meet them. He was now in a grey
flannel suit--he must have jumped into it--and altogether very much
tidier....
Section 9
The long narrow table under the big sycamores between the house and
the adapted barn that Mr. Direck learnt was used for "dancing and all
that sort of thing," was covered with a blue linen diaper cloth, and that
too surprised him. This was his first meal in a private household in
England, and for obscure reasons he had expected something very stiff
and formal with "spotless napery." He had also expected a very stiff
and capable service by implacable parlourmaids, and the whole thing
indeed highly genteel. But two cheerful women servants appeared from
what was presumably the kitchen direction, wheeling a curious wicker
erection, which his small guide informed him was called Aunt
Clatter--manifestly deservedly--and which bore on its shelves the
substance of the meal. And while the maids at this migratory sideboard
carved and opened bottles and so forth, the small boy and a slightly
larger brother, assisted a little by two young men of no very defined
position and relationship, served the company. Mrs. Britling sat at the
head of the table, and conversed with Mr. Direck by means of hostess
questions and imperfectly accepted answers while she kept a watchful
eye on the proceedings.
The composition of the company was a matter for some perplexity to
Mr. Direck. Mr. and Mrs. Britling were at either end of the table, that
was plain enough. It was also fairly plain that the two barefooted boys

were little Britlings. But beyond this was a cloud of uncertainty. There
was a youth of perhaps seventeen, much darker than Britling but with
nose and freckles rather like his, who might be an early son or a stepson;
he was shock-headed and with that look about his arms and legs that
suggests overnight growth; and there was an unmistakable young
German, very pink, with close-cropped fair hair, glasses and a panama
hat, who was probably the tutor of the younger boys. (Mr. Direck also
was wearing his hat, his mind had been filled with an exaggerated idea
of the treacheries of the English climate before he left New York.
Every one else was hatless.) Finally, before one reached the limits of
the explicable there was a pleasant young man with a lot of dark hair
and very fine dark blue eyes, whom everybody called "Teddy." For him,
Mr. Direck hazarded "secretary."
But in addition to these normal and understandable presences, there
was an entirely mysterious pretty young woman in blue linen who sat
and smiled next to Mr. Britling, and there was a rather kindred-looking
girl with darker hair on the right of Mr. Direck who impressed him at
the very outset as being still prettier, and--he didn't quite place