Prev | Current Page 1216 | Next

Kipling, Rudyard, 1865-1936

"From Mine Own People"


Mrs. G. Who's "us"?
Capt. G. Jack and I; only Jack's notions are too radical. What's that big sigh
for, Minnie?
Mrs. G. Oh, nothing--and you've kept all this a secret from me! Why?
Capt. G. Not a secret, exactly, dear. I didn't say anything about it to you
because I didn't think it would amuse you.
Mrs. G. And am I only made to be amused?
Capt. G. No, of course. I merely mean that it couldn't interest you.
Mrs. G. It's your work and--and if you'd let me, I'd count all these things up.
If they are too heavy, you know by how much they are too heavy, and you must
have a list of things made out to your scale of lightness, and--
Capt. G. I have got both scales somewhere in my head; but it's hard to tell how
light you can make a head-stall, for instance, until you've actually had a
model made.
Mrs. G. But if you read out the list, I could copy it down, and pin it up there
just above your table. Wouldn't that do?
Capt. G. It would be awf'ly nice, dear, but it would be giving you trouble for
nothing. I can't work that way. I go by rule of thumb. I know the present scale
of weights, and the other one--the one that I'm trying to work to--will shift
and vary so much that I couldn't be certain, even if I wrote it down.


Pages:
1204 1205 1206 1207 1208 1209 1210 1211 1212 1213 1214 1215 1216 1217 1218 1219 1220 1221 1222 1223 1224 1225 1226 1227 1228