The Brother of Daphne | Page 8

ends with a piece of ribbon which she
produced, kissed them, and sat down in the grass at her feet.
We had oceans of time, for the fete did not begin till two. But we agreed there must be a
rehearsal of some kind.
"What do you know about yourself, Punch?"
"I have a foggy recollection of domestic differences."
"You used to beat me cruelly."
"Ah, but you had a nagging tongue, Judy. I can hear your defiant 'wootle' now."
Her lips parted in a smile at the reminiscence, and before they closed again she had
slipped something between them. The next instant the wood rang with a regular hurricane
of toots and wootles.
"Oh, Judy!"
"Wootle?" she said inquiringly.
"Rather! But hush- you'll wake the echoes."
"And why not? They ought to be up and about by now."
I shook my head.
"They're a sleepy folk," I said; "they get so little rest. The day is noisy enough, but at
night, what with dogs baying the moon, and the nightjars calling, when owls do cry- "
"When owls do cry- "
"- and the earnest but mistaken chanticleer, they have a rotten time. Poor echoes! And
they wake very easily here."
"Don't they everywhere?"
"Oh, no! I know some that are very heavy sleepers. In fact, it's hopeless to try and wake
them without the welkin."
"The welkin?"

"Yes, you make him ring, you know. They nearly always hear him. And if they don't the
first time, you make him ring again."
For a little space she laughed helplessly. At last:
"I am an idiot to encourage you. Seriously," she added, "about the little play."
"Presently by us to be enacted?"
"The plot," I said, "is as follows. Punch has a row with Judy and knocks her out.
(Laughter.) Various well-intentioned and benignant fools look in on Punch to pass the
time of day, and get- very properly- knocked out for their pains. (Loud and prolonged
laughter.) This is followed by the side-splitting incident in which a handy clown not only
eludes the thirsty bludgeon, but surreptitiously steals the inevitable sausages. Exit clown.
Punch, already irritated at having missed clown, misses sausages, and exit in high
dudgeon. Re-enter Judy, followed by sausaged clown, who comforts her. (Oh, Judy!)
Re-enter Punch. Justifiable tussle. Punch sees sausages and begins to find his length.
Clown sees stars and exit. Punch knocks out Judy with a left hook. To him, gloating,
enter constable. It seems Judy's knock-out more serious than usual. Constable suggests
that Punch shall go quietly. Punch does not see it, and retires to fetch persuader.
Constable protests and is persuaded. (Laughter.) Enter ghost- not clear whose ghost, but
any ghost in a storm. Punch unnerved. Ghost gibbers. Punch more unnerved. Ghost
gibbers again. Punch terrified. Exit ghost and enter hangman, to whom Punch, unstrung
by recent encounter with apparition, falls an easy prey. Curtain. You bow from the mouth
of the booth. I adjust nose and collect money in diminutive tin pail. How's that?"
"Lovely, Punch! But where does Toby dear come in?"
At the mention of his name the terrier rose and went to her. His mistress stroked his soft
head.
"In the background," said I. " Or the offing (nautical). I don't think he'd better act. Let
him be stage-door-keeper."
"All right. Now open the puppet-box."
It was a nice set of puppets, and they were very simple to manipulate. They fitted easily
on to the hand, the forefinger controlling the head, and the thumb and second finger the
arms. The old fellow's cudgel was a dream.
We decided that I had better stick to Punch and Punch alone. For the others she would be
answerable.
After rehearsing for half an hour, we stopped for breakfast. In the absence of cutlery, it
was a ragged meal, but what mattered that? We were for letting the world slip- we should
ne'er be younger.
People were stirring now. Carts rumbled in the distance, and cars sang past on the long,

white road. Presently came one that slowed and slowed and stopped.
It was unfortunate that, but a moment before, I should have grown impatient of a large
piece of crust and thrust it bodily into my mouth. But although articulation at this
interesting juncture was out of the question, I laid an eloquent hand upon her arm and
crowded as much expression as I could into a swollen and distorted visage. She glanced
at me and collapsed in silent infectious laughter. And so it happened that, while we two
conspirators lay shaking in the bracken, her friends turned their car wonderingly round
and drove slowly back into the village away from her they sought.
Another hour and a half of somewhat desultory rehearsal found us 'wootle' perfect and
ready for anything. So