articles for you about food
economy stunts in the household?
TRANTO. Well--(_hesitating_)
JOHN. Now, I look at things practically. When Hilda'd spent all her
dress allowance and got into debt besides, about a year and a half ago,
she suddenly remembered she wasn't doing much to help the war, and so
she went into the Food Ministry as a typist at thirty-five shillings a
week. Next she learnt typing. Then she became an authority on
everything. And now she's concocting these food articles for you.
Believe me, the girl knows nothing whatever about cookery. She couldn't
fry a sausage for nuts. Once the mater insisted on her doing the
housekeeping--in the holidays, too! Stay me with flagons!
HILDEGARDE (_without looking round_). Stay you with chocolates, you
mean, Johnnie, dear.
JOHN. There you are! Her thoughts fly instantly to chocolates--and in
the fourth year of the greatest war that the world--
HILDEGARDE. Etcetera, etcetera.
TRANTO. Then do I gather that you don't entirely approve of your
sister's articles?
JOHN. Tripe, I think. My fag could write better. I'll tell you what I do
approve of. I approve of that article to-day by that chap Sampson
Straight about titles and the shameful traffic in honours, and the rot
of the hereditary principle, and all that sort of thing.
TRANTO. I'm glad. Delivers the goods, doesn't he, Mr. Sampson Straight?
JOHN. Well, _I_ think so. Who is he?
TRANTO. One of my discoveries, John. He sent me in an article about--let
me see, when was it?--about eight months ago. I at once perceived that
in Mr. Sampson Straight I had got on to a bit of all right. And I was
not mistaken. He has given London beans pretty regularly once a week
ever since.
JOHN. He must have given the War Cabinet neuralgia this afternoon,
anyhow. I should like to meet him.
TRANTO. I'm afraid that's impossible.
JOHN. Is it? Why?
TRANTO. Well, I haven't met him myself yet. He lives at a quiet country
place in Cornwall. Hermit, I believe. Hates any kind of publicity.
Absolutely refuses to be photographed.
JOHN. Photographed! I should think not! But couldn't you get him to come
and lecture at school? We have frightful swells, you know.
TRANTO. I expect you do. But he wouldn't come.
JOHN. I wish he would. We had a debate the other Saturday night on,
Should the hereditary principle be abolished?
TRANTO. And did you abolish it?
JOHN. Did we abolish it? I should say we did. Eighty-five to twe
|