The Brother of Daphne | Page 9

we laid the puppets by, fed Toby with brown bread and tongue,
and rested against the labours of the afternoon.
The time passed quickly enough- too quickly.

It was a few minutes past one when, having adjusted my mask and slid my nose into
position, I got the booth upon my shoulders and stepped out into the road.
"Come along," I said encouragingly.
"I'm afraid. Oh, there's something coming."
"Nonsense! I wish I hadn't packed that bludgeon."
"I'm nervous, Punch."
"Will you make me drag you along by the hair of your head? Of course, it'd be in the
picture right enough, but I rather want two hands for this infernal booth. However, let me
once get a good grip on that soft pigtail- "
"What- again?"
"Ah, that was in love, Judy."
The next second she had joined me on the white highway, the faithful Toby a short pace
behind her. His not to reason why. A good fellow, Toby.
It was rather a nervous moment. But, in spite of an approaching wagonette, she walked
bravely beside me with the puppet-box under her arm. The occupants of the vehicle
began to evince great curiosity as we drew nearer, but their mare caught sight of my nose
at the critical moment and provided an opportune diversion.
"So perish all our enemies!" she said with a sigh of relief.
"Stage-fright, Judy, dear. You'll be all right in a minute. We're bound to excite interest.
It's what we're for and what we want. I'll keep it going. Give me your wootler."

She handed me the reed, and I held it ready between my lips.
"Buck up, lass!"
Ten minutes more and we entered the village. The grounds where the fete was to be
holden lay three-quarters of a mile further on. The ball was opened by two small errand
boys, on whose hands, as is usual with the breed, time was lying heavily. They were
engaged in deep converse as we came up, and it was only when we were close upon them
that they became aware of our presence. For a few seconds they stared at us, apparently
rooted to the spot, and as if they could not believe their good fortune. Then one broke
into an explosive bellow of delight, while the other ran off squeaking with excitement to
find other devils who should share the treasure-trove. But, unlike his infamous
predecessor, he was not content with seven. When he returned, it was but as the van of a
fast-swelling rabble. His erstwhile companion, who had been backing steadily in front of
me ever since he left, and had, after a hurried consideration of the respective merits of the
booth and the box under Judy's arm, rejected them both in favour of my nose, kept his
eyes fastened greedily upon that organ with so desperate an air of concentration that I
was quite relieved when he tripped over a brick and fell on his back in the road.
And all this time our following grew. The news of our advent had spread like wildfire.
Old men and maidens, young men and boys, the matron and the maid, alike came running.
Altogether, Lynn Hammer was set throbbing with an excitement such as it had not
experienced since the baker's assistant was wrongly arrested for petty larceny in 1904.
Amongst those who walked close about us, candid speculation as to the probable venue
of the performance was rife, while its style, length, value, etc., were all frankly discussed.
Many were the questions raised, and many the inaccurate explanations accepted as to the
reason of our being; but though my companion came in for some inevitable discussion, I
was relieved to find that my panache and a comic peculiarity of gait, which I thought it as
well from time to time to affect, proved usefully diverting.
When the crowd had begun to assume considerable proportions, Judy had slipped her arm
in mine, and an answering pressure to my encouraging squeeze told me that she was
trying to buck up as well as she could. Good little Judy! It was an ordeal for you, but you
came through it with flying colours, though with a flaming cheek.
When we reached the triangular piece of grass that lay in front of the village inn, I called
a halt with such suddeness as to create great confusion in the swarming ranks that
followed in our wake. But while they sorted themselves, I slipped the booth off my
shoulders, gave one long, echoing call upon the reed, and, striking an attitude, made
ready to address the expectant villagers.
After carefully polishing my nose with a silk handkerchief- an action which met with
instant approval- I selected a fat, red-faced drayman, thanked him, and said that mine was