Читать книгу General Impressions - Edmée Elizabeth Monica Dashwood - Страница 21

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General Impression (that we perfectly well remember registering last year, and the year before, and the year before that) of the large number of ladies who fail to realize that pink, red, orange, and scarlet frocks are a Mistake at Hunt Balls.

A VERY YOUNG THING. Hallo, Edward, you idiot! You're nearly too late; I'm practically booked up.

EDWARD. I don't really give a dam' if you are. There are any number of leading hearties here that I want to dance with.

THE V. Y. T. Don't be so putridly off-hand. What about 7 and 8?

EDWARD. All right, if you want to. See you later, then.

General Impression that the mutual admiration of Edward and the V. Y. T. has, if anything, been increased by this sprightly passage of wits.

A WIFE. What about dancing, dear?

HER HUSBAND. Oh, must we?

THE WIFE. Well you see, dear, I don't really know how to do these new dances, and certainly you don't, so I think we'd better just dance with one another till we pick it up a little.

THE HUSBAND. It isn't really what I call dancing at all. Just walking, I call it. (They walk accordingly.)

THE WIFE. Simply splendid, dear—you see it's quite easy—one and two and three and—the time is just a little bit tricky, every now and then—you didn't happen to notice if this one is a waltz, or a foxtrot, or what, did you?

Painful conviction that he didn't gradually invades them both, as it does everyone else in the vicinity.

ONE OF SOME TWENTY SUPERFLUOUS YOUNG WOMEN, TO ANOTHER (brightly). I simply love watching a scene like this—it's almost more fun than dancing, I always think. All the little things one sees and hears, don't you know!

SECOND S. Y. W. (even more brightly). I know. People are simply killing, aren't they? I always try and keep a dance or two free, just for the sake of watching.

General Impression, as the evening wears on, that she is getting almost more than she bargained for, of this form of amusement.

An Elderly Gentleman in a Pink Coat, approaching a contemporary Lady in Vermilion Chiffon.

THE E. G. And which of your daughters is here to-night—or have you brought them both?

THE V. C. Neither, I'm afraid. Mollie had a Girl Guide Meeting, don't you know, and she wouldn't miss it for the world—she's so keen about her Guides—and Dollie is giving a raffia demonstration at the Women's Institute. So I'm here quite by myself.

THE E. G. Then let's dance, shall we? Topping band, this.

THE V. C. Too marvellous.

On the Stairs.

A VOICE. ... Frightfully heavy going, but I got well away, and kept in sight of hounds pretty nearly all the way....

ANOTHER VOICE. But I said to him, "The mare may be a good fencer," I said, "but does she like water?" I said. Of course, between you and I and the gate-post, that little mare, as I know very well ...

YET ANOTHER VOICE. My dear, she always has her skirt a good eight inches longer behind than in front, and a petticoat showing below that! Of course that's the result of marrying a parson, and living in the country all the year round.

A COUNTY MATRON. He married a Sock—a Yorkshire Sock—her mother was a Boote, you know, a daughter of old Lord Hatt—there's some connection with the Westcotts, of Somersetshire....

HER NEIGHBOUR. Ah yes—through the Coats family. One of them married a ... (And so on.)

General Impression that they have happily solved the frightful problem of What on Earth to Talk About.

This is being dealt with in various other ways by various other people—the Floor, the Band, the Weather, Prohibition (look at America, my dear), the Garden, and the Depression in the City all playing their usual parts, until a General Impression that the English Countryside takes its pleasures perhaps rather solemnly, is triumphantly overlaid by the strains of "John Peel".