The Brother of Daphne — Reading Companion

Berry began to recite 'We are Seven.'

Thursday morning broke cloudless and brilliant. I saw it break. Reluctantly, of course; I am not in the habit of rising at cock-crow. But on this occasion I rose because I could not sleep. When I went to bed on Wednesday night, I lay awake thinking deeply about what I was to do on the morrow. Daphne had proved inexorable. My brain, usually so fertile, had become barren, and for my three days' contemplation of the subject I had absolutely nothing to show. It was past midnight before I fell into a fitful slumber, only to be aroused three hours and a half later by the sudden burst of iniquity with which two or more cats saw fit to shake the silence of the rose-garden.

As I threw out the boot-jack, I noticed the dawn. And as further sleep seemed out of the question, I decided to dress and go out into the woods.

When I slipped out of Knight's Bottom into the sunlit road to find myself face to face with a Punch and Judy show, I was not far from being momentarily disconcerted. For a second it occurred to me that I might be dreaming, but, though I listened carefully, I could hear no cats, so I sat down on the bank by the side of the road and prepared to contemplate the phenomenon.

When I say 'Punch and Judy show' I am wrong. Although what I saw suggested the proximity of a Punch and a Judy, to say nothing of the likelihood of a show, I did not, as a matter of fact, descry any one of the three. The object that presented itself to my view was the tall, rectangular booth, gaudy and wide-mouthed, with which, until a few years ago, the streets of London were so familiar. Were! Dear old Punch and Judy, how quickly you are becoming a thing of the past! How soon you will have gone the way of Jack-i'-the Green, Pepper's Ghost, the Maypole, and many another old friend! Out of the light into the darkness. The old order changeth, yielding place to new, and in a little space men shall be content to wonder at your ancient memory as their grandfathers marvelled at that of the frolics of my Lord of Misrule. However.

There was the booth. But that was all. It stood quite alone at the side of the white road. I walked round it. Nothing. I glanced up and down the road, but there was no one in sight. I had been feeling hungry, for it was seven o'clock; but this was better than breakfast, and I returned to the bank. The little red curtains fluttered, as a passing breeze caught them, and I marked how bright and new they looked. It was certainly in good condition--this booth.

"Well?" said a voice.

A pause. A girl's voice it was: coming from within the booth.

"You seem rather surprised," said the voice.

"No, no," I said, "not really surprised. Only a little staggered. You see, I know so few booths."

"What are you doing here?"

"To be frank, booth, I'm waiting."

"So?" said I. "I wait, you wait, let us wait, ye shall have been about to see, they would--"

"What are you waiting for?"

"Developments. And you?"

I looked up and down the road. "I don't see it coming," I said anxiously. "What's it look like?"

"Milk. You don't happen to have any, I suppose?"

I felt in my pockets.

"There, now," I said, "I must have left it on the piano. I got up rather hurriedly this morning," I added apologetically.

"I'll tell you what, booth, I'll go and get some."

"No, thanks very much. Don't you bother; it'll come along presently."

"Are you sure? This isn't 'The Blue Bird.'"

"Yes, it's all right--really."

There was another pause. Then:

"Hadn't you better be getting back to breakfast?" said the girl.

"Not much," said I. "I don't run up against booths every day. Besides--"

"Well, booth, I'm awfully curious."

"What do you want to know?"

"I didn't say I'd tell you."

"I'll risk that. In a word, why are you?"

I waited in silence for a few moments. At length:

"Suppose," she said slowly, "suppose a bet had been made."

"Well? Isn't that enough?"

"I don't think much of your imagination."

I raised my eyes to heaven. "A prophet is not without honour," I quoted.

"Is this your own country?"

"Oh, I say, you'd be the very man!"

"I am," I said. "Refuse substitutes."