Jerome K. Jerome

“ SHOWS APTITUDE FOR JOURNALISM “COME in!” said Peter Hope.
Peter Hope was tall and thin, clean-shaven but for a pair of side whiskers close-cropped and terminating just below the ear, with hair of the kind referred to by sympathetic barbers as “getting a little thin on the top, sir,” but arranged with economy, that everywhere is poverty's true helpmate. About Mr. Peter Hope's linen, which was white though somewhat frayed, there was a self-assertiveness that invariably arrested the attention of even the most casual observer. ”

“ It was Tommy herself that manœuvred her first essay in journalism. A great man had come to London—was staying in apartments especially prepared for him in St. James's Palace. Said every journalist in London to himself: “If I could obtain an interview with this Big Man, what a big thing it would be for me!” For a week past, Peter had carried everywhere about with him a paper headed: “Interview of Our Special Correspondent with Prince Blank,” questions down left-hand column, very narrow; space for answers right-hand side, very wide. But the Big Man was experienced. ”

“ Peter Hope's irritation was growing.
“I mean, where are you going to sleep? Got any money for a lodging?”
“Yes, I've got some money,” answered Tommy. “But I don't think much o' lodgings. Not a particular nice class as you meet there. I shall sleep out to-night. 'Tain't raining.”
Elizabeth uttered a piercing cry.
“Serves you right!” growled Peter savagely. “How can anyone help treading on you when you will get just between one's legs. Told you of it a hundred times.”
The truth of the matter was that Peter was becoming very angry with himself. ”

“ Peter, whose digestion was delicate, had had a happy thought.
“What I propose, Tommy—I mean Jane,” said Peter, “is that we should get in a woman to do just the mere cooking. That will give you more time to—to attend to other things, Tommy—Jane, I mean.” ”

“ It would pay me, Tommy—pay me very handsomely. I should make money out of you.”
This appeared to be an argument that Tommy understood. Peter, with secret delight, noticed that the chin retained its normal level.
“I did help a chap to sell papers, once,” remembered Tommy; “he said I was fly at it.”
“I told you so,” exclaimed Peter triumphantly. “The methods are different, but the instinct required is the same. We will get a woman in to relieve you of the housework.” ”

“ Peter looked at Elizabeth and winked.
Poor Peter! His triumph was short-lived. Five minutes later, Tommy returned, clad in the long, black skirt, supported by the cricket belt, the blue garibaldi cut décolleté, the pepper-and-salt jacket, the worsted comforter, the red lips very tightly pressed, the long lashes over the black eyes moving very rapidly.
“Tommy” (severely) , “what is this tomfoolery?”
“I understand. I ain't no good to you. Thanks for giving me a trial. My fault.”
“Tommy” (less severely) , “don't be an idiot.”
“Ain't an idiot. 'Twas Emma. Told me I was good at cooking. ”

“ I can make beds and clean rooms—all that sort o' thing. As for cooking, I've got a natural aptitude for it. You ask Emma; she'll tell you. You don't want nothing 'laborate?”
“Elizabeth,” said Mr. Peter Hope, as he crossed and, taking up the poker, proceeded to stir the fire, “are we awake or asleep?”
Elizabeth thus appealed to, raised herself on her hind legs and dug her claws into her master's thigh. Mr. Hope's trousers being thin, it was the most practical answer she could have given him.
“Done a lot of looking after other people for their benefit,” continued “Tommy.” ”

“ It did seem hard on the old gentleman.
“What's the sense of paying two to do the work of one? You would only be keeping me on out of charity.” The black eyes flashed. “I ain't a beggar.”
“And you really think, Tommy—I should say Jane, you can manage the—the whole of it? You won't mind being sent on a message, perhaps in the very middle of your cooking. It was that I was thinking of, Tommy—some cooks would.”
“You go easy,” advised him Tommy, “till I complain of having too much to do.”
Peter returned to his desk. Elizabeth looked up. It seemed to Peter that Elizabeth winked. ”

“ Having noticed its position, Tommy took a walk up the platform and disappeared into the fog.
Twenty minutes later, Prince Blank stepped hurriedly across the platform, unnoticed save by half a dozen obsequious officials, and entered the compartment reserved for him. The obsequious officials bowed. Prince Blank, in military fashion, raised his hand. The 6.40 steamed out slowly.
Prince Blank, who was a stout gentleman, though he tried to disguise the fact, seldom found himself alone. When he did, he generally indulged himself in a little healthy relaxation. ”

“ Tommy's face fell. “I thought it wasn't till Friday morning.”
“Ah!” said the sentry, “that's what the papers say, is it?” The sentry's voice took unconsciously the accent of those from whom no secret is hid. “I'll tell yer what yer can do,” continued the sentry, enjoying an unaccustomed sense of importance. The sentry glanced left, then right. “'E's a slipping off all by 'imself down to Osborne by the 6.40 from Waterloo. Nobody knows it—'cept, o' course, just a few of us. That's 'is way all over. 'E just 'ates——”
A footstep sounded down the corridor. The sentry became statuesque. ”

“ And at this point it occurred to the Prince, who being really a great man, had naturally a sense of humour, that a conference conducted on these lines between the leading statesman of an Empire and an impertinent hussy of, say, twelve years old at the outside, might end by becoming ridiculous. ”

“ Peter Hope. “I say, you know, you——”
But by this time the skirt had practically disappeared, leaving to view a pair of much-patched trousers, diving into the right-hand pocket of which the dirty hand drew forth a folded paper, which, having opened and smoothed out, it laid upon the desk.
Mr. Peter Hope pushed up his spectacles till they rested on his eyebrows, and read aloud—“'Steak and Kidney Pie, 4d.; Do. (large size) , 6d. ”