Mr. Bingle

“ Bingle had unbounded faith in the young actress, and said so with considerable fervour. Whereupon, the jubilant author suggested that they send for Miss Fairweather at once and acquaint her with the glorious news. But Mr. Bingle shook his head.
"No, we can't do that," he said, looking at his watch. "Lessons are not over yet. Ten minutes left, I see. She's still a governess, Dick. One job at a time. The stage can wait."
Mr. Flanders sighed but smiled. Then, for no especial reason, he slapped Mr. Bingle heartily on the back and laughed aloud. ”

“ Every one ought to see 'em if he can afford it. If you think it advisable, I'll take her across this summer. Maybe if she got to Paris she'd forget she ever wanted to go to Peekskill."
"I'll let you know what I think of it later on, Bingle. We'll see. I've never seen your garden looking better than it looks this summer. You have a treasure in that man Edgecomb. Come, let's stroll down to the Italian—"
"Not just now, Doctor," said Mr. Bingle hastily. "I think Miss Fairweather and Flanders are down there enjoying the shade and the music of the fountain." ”

“ Mr. Bingle had entered the room, and was greeted by a shout of delight from the children. The governess moved swiftly away from the young man's side, mingling with the nurses by the fireplace.
Mr. Bingle, hurrying toward the semi-circle of youngsters was surprised by a genial slap on the back from the visibly excited Flanders.
"Wonderful!" exclaimed the young man, his face radiant. "Wonderful!"
"Aren't they?" cried Mr. Bingle, pleased.
"I don't mean the—Ahem! They certainly are, Mr. Bingle. I expect this to be the most beautiful Christmas Eve in all my life, sir. ”

“ Bingle. "It may be important. I am sure Mr. and Mrs. Force will not mind the delay. Will you?"
"Not at all," said Mrs. Force resignedly.
"I shan't mind, if the rest don't," added Mr. Force, turning an ironic eye upon the row of servants.
"Well, I'll just step out and see what it's all about," said Mr. Bingle reluctantly.
"Better see that the chap isn't a bomb-thrower, come to demand money of you, Bingle," said Force. Mr. Bingle waved his hand airily as he threaded his way among the chairs. "Does he look like a black-hander, Diggs?"
"No, sir," replied Diggs. ”

“ Sixteen thousand dollars last week. Turning 'em away every night. Seventeen hundred dollars last night and—"
"Hush, Dick! Mr. Bingle knows you are an author. You don't have to act the part, you know."
"Right you are. It's getting to be a habit. I can't help contrasting this Christmas Eve with the one a year ago. I didn't have ten dollars to my name when I went out to hear you read 'The Christmas Carol,' Mr. Bingle."
"And now I haven't ten dollars to my name," said Mr. Bingle cheerily. "Luck is like the sun, Dick. It doesn't stay up all the time. ”

“ The alluring scent of gaudily painted toys pervaded the Christmas atmosphere, quite offsetting the hint of steam from more fortunate depths, and one could sniff the odour of freshly buttered pop-corn. All these signs spoke of children and the proximity of Kris Kringle, and yet there were no little Bingles, nor had there ever been so much as one!
Mr. and Mrs. Bingle were childless. The tragedy of life for them lay not in the loss of a first-born, but in the fact that no babe had ever come to fill their hungry hearts with the food they most desired and craved. ”

“ Mr. Bingle made haste to assure him. "Look as serious as you please, Force. I know it can't hurt the bank. Don't go, Mary. Mr. Force and I will slip up to my study. We are less likely to be interrupted there."
"I trust Mrs. Force is well," said the lady of Seawood, and there was a note of anxiety in her voice. There HAD been a queer taste to the lobster a la Newburg. She remembered mentioning it to Mr. Bingle after the company had gone. ”

“ What would Mary say? What would become of Mary? What would become of Melissa, now that they couldn't afford to keep a servant?
"You been here longer than any one, too," went on Jenkins. "How long has it been, Bingle?"
"Fifteen years," gulped Mr. Bingle, in a strange, unnatural voice.
"That's longer than the old man himself," said Jenkins. "He's been president less'n twelve years. Say, Bingle, I'm all broke up over it. I—I hope it ain't as bad as we think. Maybe—oh, I say, it's your EARS! That's what it is. Mr. Force was showing him your ears. ”

“ Bingle's best overcoat, an ulster of five winters, to say nothing of his arctics, gloves and muffler.
No one, not even Mr. Bingle, could deny that it was a very shabby thing to do on a Christmas morning, and for once the gentle bookkeeper lost faith in his fellow-man. In all probability he would have excused Uncle Joe's early morning stroll in garments that did not belong to him had it not been for the fact that the old gentleman also took away with him all of his own scanty belongings neatly wrapped in the morning newspaper, an almost priceless breakfast possession from Mr. ”

“ Bingle turned to her after the children were safely stowed away in the 'bus and ready for the long ride home. He had his hat in his hand and he bowed very low, with the old-fashioned courtesy that time and environment had failed to modify.
"My dear young lady, you remind me of the fairy princess that I knew so well as a boy. You spring up out of the ground and—Whist! you perform deeds of magic and enchantment. I am sorry that we cannot have you hovering about us forevermore. We are all enchanted." ”

“ Force," said Bingle without a sign of resentment in his manner. "We can't help airing the flat. Our greatest problem is to keep from airing it. There isn't a minute of the day that it isn't being aired."
Besides Mr. Force, who was a friend by circumstance and not from choice, Bingle possessed two loyal and devoted friends in Diggs and Watson, proprietors of the Covent Garden Consolidated Fruit Company of Columbus Avenue, Manhattan. ”

“ What could be more beautiful than to present to your notice a perfect example of humanity, without uttering a single word to aid you in your speculation as to the gender, and then to sit calmly back and relish the joy you will reveal when you find that you have guessed correctly the very first time, as the boys would say? That would be the magnificent compensation to me. You will need but one glance at this wonderful specimen. One glance will be sufficient. You will instantly exclaim: 'What a monstrous fine boy—or girl!' as the case may be. Ah, sir—"
"I must have a boy," said Mr. Bingle. ”

“ Hearty collapsed into ripples and wheezes. Bindle was the only self-possessed person in the room. He regarded his fellow-guests with keen interest, noted the odour of camphor and mustiness and the obvious creases in the men's coats. "Smells like a pawn-shop," he muttered. Then he came to the Rev. Mr. Sopley, a gaunt, elderly man, with ragged beard that covered his entire face, save the cheeks which, like two little hillocks of flesh, peeped out from a riot of whiskered undergrowth.
"'Ow are yer, sir?" asked Bindle. ”

“ Bindle turned to Mrs. Hearty. "Look 'ere, Martha!" he cried. "We ain't a very cheer-o crowd, are we? Ain't you got none of them naughty stories o' yours to tell jest to make us laugh."
Mrs. Hearty was in the act of conveying a piece of chicken to her mouth. The chicken and fork dropped back to the plate with a jangle, and she leaned back in her chair, heaving and wheezing with laughter.
"Look 'ere, sir!" said Bindle, addressing Mr. Sopley, who temporarily withdrew his eyes from the ceiling. "I 'ad a little argument with a cove the other day, as to where this 'ere was to be found. ”

“ He was roused from his reverie by somebody shouting:
"Say how-d'ye-do to uncle," and he found himself clasping Bindle's two fingers with a warmth that surprised himself.
He looked round him. There was a dense crowd waving flags, and all in honour of this man who greeted him as nephew. A new prospect opened itself to his bewildered brain. If only it prove to be true!
"Now, come along, Mr. Williams." It was Tom Little's voice again that broke in upon his thoughts. "We've got a carriage waiting for you."
Travers had slipped out and found the band split up into three groups. ”

“ Mrs. Bindle made it clear to the leader that as far as the Alton Road Chapel was concerned he was indulging in an optical delusion.
"We are all deeply honoured by your Leddyship's presence this evening," said Mr. MacFie, throwing himself into the breach. "It is——"
"Get me a chair," demanded Lady Knob-Kerrick, still glaring in the direction of the glee-singers.
Bindle rushed at her with a frail-looking hemp-seated chair, which he proceeded to flick with his red silk pocket-handkerchief.
"One be enough, mum?" he enquired solicitously.
Lady Knob-Kerrick regarded him through her lorgnettes. ”

“ An hour later, when Dick Little hunched his bicycle from the tail of the van he said:
"Well, come and see me in London; I'm generally in Sunday evenings."
"Right, sir; I will," replied Bindle; "but might I arst, sir, wot it was that made 'em so fidgety?"
"It was pure alcohol mixed with distilled mead," was the reply.
"Well, it done the trick. Good-night, sir. Lord! won't there be some 'eads wantin' 'oldin' in the mornin'," and he laughed joyously as the pantechnicon rumbled noisily Londonwards.
CHAPTER X MR. HEARTY PRAYS FOR BINDLE
Mrs. Bindle had just returned from evening chapel. ”

“ Bindle that he would see her some time during the afternoon as he was to be on duty in Putney High Street, "to see that no one don't pinch 'Earty's veges."
Ten minutes later Bindle stood in front of Mr. Hearty's new shop, aided in his scrutiny by two women and three boys.
"There ain't no denying the fact," murmured Bindle to himself, "that 'Earty do do the thing in style. If only 'is 'eart wasn't wot it is, an' if 'is face was wot it might be, 'e'd make a damn fine brother-in-law." ”

“ He had an eye that could cower a "drunk" more effectually than the muscle of a barman.
"Dry work, movin'," said Bindle pleasantly.
Mr. Gandy wheezed.
"I'm a stranger 'ere," Bindle continued, as he produced some bread and cheese from a piece of pink newspaper. "Funny little 'ole I calls it. Nothin' to do, as far as I can see. No street accidents 'ere, wot?" and he laughed genially at his own joke.
"You're one of the pantechnicon-men from Holmleigh?" queried Mr. Gandy with dignity. ”

“ It was pleasant to find Bindle controverted.
"You know, Alf, you never been so much at 'ome," wheezed Mrs. Hearty, hitting her chest remorselessly. "You never go out on moonlight nights."
"You trust 'im," said Bindle. "'Earty an' the moon ain't never out together."
"We are told to take cover," said Mr. Hearty with dignity.
"An' wot about us pore fellers wot 'as to be out in it all?" demanded Bindle, looking down at his special constable's uniform.
"You should commend yourself to God," said Mr. Gupperduck piously. "He that putteth his trust in Him shall not be afraid." ”

“ He was the one barrier between her and earthly heaven. He had failed where Mr. Hearty had succeeded. She poured upon him a withering stream of invective,—and she did it at the top of her voice. [Pg 86]
At first Bindle stared; then he gazed vaguely about him. He made a sudden dive for the cupboard, rummaged about until he found the vinegar-bottle. Pouring some out into a saucer, he filled it up with water and returned to where Mrs. Bindle sat, slopping the liquid as he went.
Mrs. Bindle was now engaged in linking him up with Sodom and Gomorrah, the fate that befell Lot's wife and Dr. Crippen. ”

“ By dint of threats, badinage, and persuasion Bindle at last cleared the shop of all save Mr. and Mrs. Hearty, Smith, and the boy. Posting the staff at the door with instructions to admit no one, Bindle approached his brother-in-law.
"Wot jer been doin', 'Earty? The 'ole bloomin' street's full o' carts and people wantin' to see yer. I brought three vans. What's it all about?"
Never had Mr. Hearty been so genuinely pleased to see Bindle. Before he had time to reply to his question, a big man pushed his way past Smith and entered the shop.
"Where'll yer 'ave the beer, guv'nor?" ”

“ Bindle looked at the man curiously to see if he were really serious; but there was no vestige of a smile upon his face.
"It's wonderful wot a man can do with a crowd," remarked Bindle oracularly; "but," turning to the inert figure of Mr. Gup [Pg 68] perduck, "it's still more wonderful wot a crowd can do with a man."
"Bindle!" Mrs. Bindle's voice rang out authoritatively.
"'Ere am I," replied Bindle obediently.
"Help us lift Mr. Gupperduck on a chair."
With elaborate care they raised the inert form of Mr. Gupperduck on to a chair. His arms fell down limply beside him. ”

“ and that friendship between a person capable of it, and such an amiable man as Mr. Bingley, was incomprehensible.
She grew absolutely ashamed of herself. Of neither Darcy nor Wickham could she think without feeling she had been blind, partial, prejudiced, absurd. ”

“ Slocum, remembering his companion's youth, gripped him by the arm and hurried him away with a muttered, "Dreadful, dreadful!"
No other word was spoken until they reached the refreshment-stall over which Bindle presided, and then the vicar once more murmured, "Dreadful!"
"Have you any tea?" enquired Mr. McFie, more from a desire to say something than a feeling of thirst.
"No, sir," responded Bindle, "tea's over there, sir. Try the lemonade, sir; it's A-1. It'll pull yer together, sir. Do try it, sir," Bindle added eagerly. "You look 'ot and tired, sir. It'll do yer good." ”