Mord Em'ly

“ The customers rose from their seats; Mord Em'ly herself left the kitchen at the back of the dining-rooms, and came forward. She turned very white on seeing her father.
"There!" he said agreeably, "That's the kind of man I am."
"Send for a constable," cried Mrs. Mitchell, panting. "Somebody bolt off for a—"
Mord Em'ly interrupted.
"There she is," exclaimed her father, "There's my daughter. There's sole sport of her remaining parent. Mord Em'ly, how's world using you?" ”

“ To Mord Em'ly, accustomed to a life where incident and amusement called daily, this deliberate method of life gave amazement and something like indignation. That people should so carefully abstain from taking advantage of the happiness that life with both hands offers, appeared to her to be a minor form of insanity. ”

“ The youngest sister paid a breathless, flying visit to the kitchen to warn Mord Em’ly that, when the visitor went, she was to be in evidence, as it were, at the rear of the hall.
“How's the evening going, miss?” asked Mord Em’ly.
“Turned out much better than I expected, Laura,” said the excited youngest sister. “I was afraid at first it was going to fall flat.”
“He ain't got what I call a tip-top voice,” said Mord Em’ly critically; “but his moral kerricter may be pretty right for all that. Why don't he smoke?”
“I declare I forgot that, Laura. You are a clever girl to think of it. ”

“ You're the worse for liquor!"
"Wish I was!" said Mord Em'ly's father.
"And, besides that, you're a low, vulgar, noisy person: You're a disgrace, that's what you are!"
"I'm a-goin' look af'er my gel," said Mord Em'ly's father. "She's been torn from me by cruel fate, she has, and now cruel fate's got to take back seat. This is where I come in. Unnerstand?"
"Take your filthy 'ands off my clean counter!" commanded Mrs. Mitchell.
"Don’t go and throw a man's 'ands in his face," he said pathetically. "Don't do that, mother." He showed the palms of his hands to the customers. "That's work!" ”

“ The red-haired girl giggled at Mord Em'ly. "I know you are, cook," she said.
To Mord Em'ly it occurred that here was something to be done that would instantly rehabilitate her in the gang's esteem.
"We ain't all afraid to, Ginger. I ain't afraid to. Allow me to inform you that I'm going to nick—"
"Mord Em'ly!" said Miss Gilliken warningly.
"Shut up!" exclaimed Mord Em'ly. "You're always interferin'." ”

“ Take care I don't 'ave you up in the lor courts, my gel! If I wasn't a good-tempered chap, I should simply up with me fist and—"
"Stop that!" commanded Mord Em'ly.
"I'm only speaking theoretically," he explained
"Mord Em'ly's got a chance now," said Miss Gilliken, "that may never occur again, and if you dare to stand in her way I shall consider that you're no man."
"My word!" said Mr. Wetherell threateningly "If you wasn't a woman I'd spoil your face for you. I'm a chap of wonderful even temper, and jest because of that some of you think you can say what you like to me. ”

“ See?"
"Now that we thor'ly understand one another," said Mord Em'ly's father, with the most agreeable air in the world, "I'll retire."
When Mord Em'ly returned with Henry Barden, her father had disappeared. The three men went off duty when they saw Mord Em'ly, and Pandora closed itself, and went to bed. But Mr. Barden decided to remain on sentry-go at the doorway of Block C of Pandora during the night. ”

“ Wetherell. "There's two sides to every argument."
"I know," said Mord Em'ly. "But I can't look at both at once. Good-night!"
Mord Em'ly, going up the narrow stone staircase, found herself pervaded by a filial emotion for her mother that she had rarely felt before. In Walworth Road she had purchased a bunch of big grapes, and these she now held before her by the string, so that her mother should be propitiated by the sight. She would try to kiss her mother if her reception did not make the act too difficult. ”

“ If I didn't like you, should I come out like this, and walk up this hill with you?"
"So far, so good," said Henry Barden. "Do you like anybody better than me?"
"I can't say I do."
"Is anybody else fond of you?"
"Well," said Mord Em'ly frankly, "There's a young man pretends to be—name Wetherell. I think you saw him once."
"Once was plenty. Do you care for him?"
"Not partic'lar," said Mord Em'ly. "Same time, he's always very amiable and talkative."
"Ah!" sighed Henry Barden. "Wish t' 'Eaven I'd got the gift of the gab." ”

“ She liked best of all the poster for next week's drama at the Elephant and Castle Theatre, where a gentleman, who was obviously no gentleman, stood, with uplifted" dagger, over a kneeling lady in evening dress, her hair down and her hands clasped, whilst a masked lady in black stood at the doorway, covering him with a pistol.
“Looks as though the toff’s got hisself in a bit of a corner,” said Mord Em'ly, cheerfully. “Dessay, if the truth was known— Now then, clumsy!”
“Who are you calling clumsy?” asked the young policeman who had accidentally stumbled against her. ”

“ When "Time!" was called, Mord Em'ly, withdrawing her gaze from the ring, and clapping her hands because Henry Barden had punished Wag Mills rather severely, found that she had to intervene between Ronicker and the quarrelsome, lean-faced man.
"Make her shut her head, then," said the lean-faced man aggrievedly. "I don't want no truck with her. Make the—"
"Less language," commanded Mord Em'ly. "Don't forget you're in the presence of ladies." ”

“ She heard the sibilant whisper of women's voices, and presently down the stairs came in procession three rather thin and severe-looking middle-aged ladies, preceded by the young sister who had received Mord Em’ly. They looked at Mord Em’ly with a distant air, and filed into the front room. Then, after an interval, the youngest sister came to the door, and beckoned her to come in.
“This, dears,” said the youngest sister, “is the little girl who has come after the place. She looks willing, and my idea is that we might take her for a month, at any rate. Her mother is a good worker.” ”

“ Then she shook very fiercely the rolled-up apron that she held in her hand.
"You're no daughter of mine,screamed Mord Em'ly's mother. I disown ye. I'll 'ave no more truck with ye. You shall never no more—"
The tram jerked, and stopped the piece of declamation, by causing Mord Em'ly's mother to slip. Mord Em'ly laughed at this, and, before she turned the corner, waved her hand cheerfully at her vanishing parent.
"We shall 'ave to wait a bit for the train," said the constable. "How'd it be, my girl, if I was to offer you a cup of tea?" ”

“ As I tell 'em, I'd much rather not punish; I'm far from being of a 'arsh nature, because I've 'ad me troubles, like other people, and they've taken all me temper out of me. You must know, ma'am, that I was in service at one time, and it was there I met my 'usband. He was a tallish man. Was your 'usband tall, I wonder, ma'am?"
"Mejum," said Mord Em'ly's mother shortly.
"And he 'ad a temper—well, it don't do to speak ill of the dead, but he certainly—"
"Mine," said Mord Em'ly's mother, "was just the opposite. A gentler and a kinder-be'aved man never breathed." ”

“ A whole day would pass, and no voice heard in the house which spoke above ordinary tones; out in the road nothing happened of greater moment than the slow-passing of a rare four-wheeler. Mord Em'ly spoke to the girl next door over the dwarfed wall that divided the gardens, and the girl next door, on being told that Mord Em'ly's mother went out charing, dropped the acquaintance hurriedly, and told the other girls in the road ”

“ Miss Mitchell promised to do as he wished, and mentioned that a bracelet at seven-and-six was just what she had always set her heart upon, and that it would distinctly tend to clear up the Friday evening perplexity. Miss Mitchell went to help a customer, who was in difficulties with the lining of his overcoat, and Mr. Barden summoned Mord Em'ly with a jerk of his head.
"Don't talk about it," said Mord Em'ly, in a low voice. "I don't want them to know about father."
"Wasn't going to say nothing about him. Want to talk about something a lot more urgent." ”

“ Mord Em'ly would look at the diverted women on the landing with half-closed eyes and a glance of condescension. “How do you do, my poor women? What do your poor husbands do for a living, pray? Dear, dear! what dreadful occupations, to be sure! I’d really never heard of them before. And the poor, dear children—I do so hope you look after them. Our country's future, you must remember, lies in their hands, and— This is my daughter, Lady Ella. She, too, is going to be so interested in the poor. In fact, I may tell you that she is going to play the zither at a concert near here some evening.” ”

“ Don't you let me see your face within a mile of where I am, or, by Gawd—"
"Make your mind quite easy about that," said Mord Em'ly, trembling.
"You're the cause of all my trouble," complained Wetherell. "Some of you gels ain't 'appy unless you're making mischief between man and wife. If you don't make yourself jolly well scarce, I'll—"
"Tell you what you'd better do, Wetherell," said Suppressed Fury, as Mord Em'ly hurried away. "You'd better sprint back to your lodgings about as quick as you can. Her temper won't be none the better for being kept on the boil. ”

“ It's old fashioned."
"You change yourself altogether," cried Mr. Barden, with much acerbity. He walked off, and shouted over his shoulders, "Like some'ing silly off a Twelf-cake, you are."
They bawled caustic advice to each other until they were out of hearing. Then Miss Gilliken took Mord Em'ly's arm and put the other hand on Mord Em'ly's right shoulder, and they walked briskly Walworth Road way. Miss Gilliken felt that some explanation was required. ”

“ The wrist was still painful from its recent twisting, and this sharp blow made the Bermondsey girl loosen her grip, with a howl. Released, Mord Em’ly staggered round and fell into Miss Gilliken's arms. The women at the windows above yelled to the excited girls to stop, and one at an open doorway, a large, red-faced woman, shuffled into the fray, and, rescuing the limp body of Mord Em’ly, dragged her across the pavement into her house. ”

“ There was the slight mist in the air that seems for ever floating about South London, ready, if joined by auxiliary forces, to become a fog; content, when alone, to remain reticent, and to mellow the tone of the evening. When a stretch of private houses, with long, stubbly lawns, came now and again, Mord Em'ly's eager interest relaxed, to become alive the moment that lighted shops appeared in view. ”

“ The infant Highlander had eaten some of the sugared bun, and had also contrived to paste a good deal of it on his cheeks. When this had been remedied, and his costume had been shaken into something like order, Mord Em'ly rose. The Highlander ran across the avenue, kicked his friend the boatswain, and returned to sanctuary.
"Good afternoon!" she said.
"No, you don't," remarked Wetherell brusquely. "You ain't going like that. Don't you flatter yourself." ”

“ I'll take all three of you on—one down, t'other come on—if you begin to—"
"Keep him 'ere," she begged, "for ten minutes, till I fetch Enry Barden! He'll make him mind what's said to him."
"Who's that?" demanded Mord Em'ly's father gruffly. "That chap I saw boxing last night! Why, what the— Look 'ere." He turned to the serious-faced, shirt-sleeved men who were still eyeing him steadily. There seems to be a lot of fuss about nothing at all. I don't want to make no disturbance. I'm the peacefullest man you ever come acrost. I'm a perfect babe in arms, in a manner of speaking. ”

“ That evening Mord Em'ly did not go to the meeting in Deptford, because Wetherell was a few minutes late, and Henry Barden being outside the dining-rooms when Mord Em'ly appeared, she walked away in the direction of Lewisham High Road with him, having no serious battle with her conscience on account of the tardy and disappointed politician. The two young men belonged to opposite types, with this special and striking difference: that whereas, with Wetherell, the opportunities for speaking were few, with Henry Barden the reverse was the case. ”

“ Batson, the mother of Pleasant Cottage, had been a prison wardress. She was a large woman, with large hands, and had no tolerance for the vagaries of youth; her ordinary gaze was terrifying, and when it developed into a frown Pleasant Cottage shivered.
Mord Em'ly lived in Faith Cottage, where the mother, a buxom woman, with slight whiskers, had a pleasant way of boxing the ears of her boarders at regular intervals, whether they deserved it or not; arguing, with some reason, that you should administer punishment when your head was cool, and not when heated by annoyance ”

“ You're a nagger, a pos'tive nagger, that's what you are. No wonder your 'usband ain't alive. I don't blame him!"
"Nagger or no nagger!" said Mord Em'ly's mother obstinately, "you stop them two gels of your'n, or else I will. If they'd only got a good mother—"
"You're a nice one to talk!" screamed the neighbour indignantly. ”

“ The gang, spurred to instant action, snatched a share of the meringues from Miss Gilliken, and flew, in accordance with the rules, in various directions. Mord Em'ly, distracted for the moment ran half-way across the road. There came shouting from a street near, a bawling "Fah, fah, fah!" taken up and repeated by everyone, a shining brass fire-engine, with excited helmeted men atop, and drawn by wild-eyed, galloping horses, swung round into the main road; sparks flying from the funnel and giving the atmosphere a not displeasing scent of burning wood. ”