Cousin Albert’s Wireless Party

Dominion, Volume 22, Issue 72, 18 December 1928, Page 7 (Supplement)

Cousin Albert’s Wireless Party

By

RADCLIFFE MARTIN

Exclusive to The Dominion

Mrs. Minks looked across the fireplace at Mr. Minks. “This year,” said Miss Minks, “the family'll ’ave their Christmas dinner at Cousin Albert’s.”

“Does Cousin Albert know yet?” inquired Mr. Minks curiously. “What’s that matter?” snapped Mrs. Minks. “Ain't it time that your side of the family did a bit? Besides, I want to know if Albert’s wife 'as got a full dinner service. I’ll bet my boots she’s only got ’arf a service, and ’as to give us odd plates. Well, I’ll just slip down to-morror and tell Grandma and the rest what’s been arranged. And when you take the dog for a walk you'll see Albert and tell ’im.”

“But p’raps I shan’t see Albert,” protested Mr. Minks. Mrs. Minks’ eye rested sternly on her husband. “You’ll meet 'im in the saloon bar of the King's 'Ead where you sees 'im most evenings. Don’t you contradict me. I know what I know. Taking the dog for a walk and coming back chewing peppermints. I wasn’t born blind, Henery Minks.” Mr. Minks paled as he thought that his little nightly jaunts were known. And he thought he had successfully concealed them for years! Still, he was thankful that they were not instantly and absolutely prohibited. That evening, Mr. Minks, over a glass of stout, broke the news to Cousin Albert.

“I couldn’t make out what you was standing me a drink for,” said Cousin Albert. “I thought you was a bit off your ’ead. So that’s what you was leading up to was it? Well, I’d sooner ’ave a funeral party at my ’ouse than a Christmas party and your missis bossing it.” “She wouldn't think of bossing it,” said Mr Minks.

"Now, don't strain yourself lying,” said Cousin Albert. “She’s bossed every party there’s been in this family so far. Well, I suppose it’s about our turn to 'ave it. Look here, I’ll do you a good turn and ask my missis to poison your missis in the Christmas pudding. But look 'ere, that sister-in-law of yours, Miss Hickle, ain't going to recite.”

“ ’Go can stop ’er,” said Mr. Minks sadly. “I think she was born reciting ‘The Eireman’s ’Wedding.’ ’’ “And she’ll die reciting it if she tries it on in my ’ouse. But I’ve got a idea that’ll stop all the wimmen snagging and reciting and making our lives a burden. We'll ’ave a latish dinner, then we’ll 'ave a wireless party. Even your missis couldn’t quarrel with ’ead-phones on.” “Couldn’t she!” said Mr. Minks, emhitteredly. “She’d quarrel with a deaf man in a dark room.” Cousin Albert, however, was an optimist. “You bring your ’ead-phones round with you. I’ve got a few pairs and the rest are sure to ’ave some. We’ll get all the wimmen fixed up and then you and me’ll slip off to the back room and ’p-e 'rop of Scotch.” Mr. Minks brightened a little at the thought of the Scotch, but then said dubiously, “if ever there was a skeleton at a feast it’s Maria.” “I never knew a sixteen stone skeleton before,” commented Cousin Albert. “That’s just a way of speaking,” explained Mr. Minks. “I meant to say that Maria can quarrel with any of the family so easy that she might ” he paused for a comparison, “she might almost be married to ’em.”

“Well, I’ll go ’ome and break the good news to my missus. She’ll be blazing mad because your wife’s arranged it in such a bossy way. And she can’t refuse to ’ave the party else your missis’d go round saying that we grudge the family a bit of food at Christmas. She’ll be so busy saying what she thinks of Maria that she’ll never ’ave time to tell me what she thinks of me for a week. So you see even your missis can be a blessing in disguise, though I’ll say ’er disguise is jolly good and’d deceive a Sherlock ’Olmes.”

“I’d best be goin’ 'ome too,” said Mr. Minks, “else I’ll never ’ear the last of my boozing ’abits.” “If you like to murder her,” offered Cousin Albert, genially, “I’ll give evidence that you was always a man of ’igh character, and that she’d 'ave driven a archangel to using weedkiller.” With a sad smile Mr. Minks departed.

The preparations for Christmas at Cousin Albert’s went on apace, and he was driven almost to madness because his wife demanded a new dinner service, new curtains and a new hearthrug—alleging that otherwise Mrs. Minks would sniff —and the prevention of sniffing cost Cousin Albert over ten pounds.

However, at last, the happy Christmastlde, when relations unite in goodwill and good-fellowship, arrived. Mr. and Mrs. Minks were the first arrivals at the Christmas party. Mrs. Minks urged an early arrival on her husband because then she could offer to lend a hand and spy out the disgraceful condition of the kitchen.

Mrs. Butters—to give Cousin Albert’s wife her correct name — and Mrs. Minks had time for much verbal sparging before tbo other guests arrived.

Happily, Grandma Minks slipped and fell on the front doorstep when she came and in the rush of getting brandy for the old lady hostilities were perforce suspended. It was not till the company were all gathered round the festive board that Mrs. Minks had a fair opportunity of playing her favourite part of the family blight. She ate turkey with the air of one partaking of poison with the Borgias. She said, “No more, thanks, I’ve ’ad quite enough,” with an emphasis which implied she could face no more of an ill-chosen and worsecooked bird. Cousin Albert hurriedly removed the gravy-boat from before his wife. As he confided to Mr. Minks afterwards, he drew the line at gravy being thrown at the dinner-table. Then Mrs. Minks looked round for fresh prey, sighted two youthful cousins who were flirtatiously breaking the wishbone together.

“Talking of cousins marrying,” began Mrs. Minks, though no one had made the slightest reference to the topic, “I’d never allow it. Most of the cousins’ marryings I’ve ’eard of, the children ’ave been deaf and dumb or ’alf-witted.” Great-uncle Timothy, who was very deaf, demanded, “What is she saying?”

When Mrs. Minks had shouted her condemnation of cousins marrying into Great-Uncle Timothy’s ear, the greatuncle, who heard very imperfectly, replied, “Yes, it’s a good thing you never ’ad any children, Maria. As you say, they might ’ave been half-witted, but never will I believe that any child of yours would be dumb.” Mrs. Minks turned purple and would certainly have left the company had she not been intensely curious to see how her hostess's plum pudding turned out. Happily it was so hard and lumpy that it put Mrs. Minks into a high good humour and the meal ended without a family outbreak.

“Now.” said Cousin Albert, “we'll 'ave the wireless concert. I’ve got phones for all but three.” Great-uncle Timothy, having devoted himself too assiduously to a too fruity port, was i>ut to sleep on the sofa in the drawing room. “Minks and myself.” said Cousin Albert, “ ’ll sit -nd see that ’e doesn’t fall off the sofa whilst the rest of you listens In.”

Mrs. Minks saw nothing to object to in this arrangement, especially as the decanters remained on the table in the dining room. So after much fuss and arranging the party was settled round the fire and the head-phones handed round. “You might 'ave borrowed a loudspeaker,” said Mrs. Minks. “It didn’t seem quite necessary, seeing you was coming,” responded Cousin Albert.

Before Mrs. Minks had quite appreciated this subtle insult. Grandmother Minks cried, “Hush, they’re starting off the carols ”

Then began a peaceful hour. In the drawing room Cousin Albert and Mr. Minks pledged each other continuously from a private bottle of whisky, whilst Great-uncle Timothy snored an accompaniment from the couch.

The family party sat immersed in the wireless. The flirty cousins had slipped their chairs nearer to each other and an arm had slipped round a waist. Even Mrs. Minks was softened by the Christmas spirit and refrained from any comment. And then little Jimmie Bulger, a reprobate eight-year-old nephew, was possessed by the evil one. A little bored by the fifteenth carol he produced one of his Christmas presents. The next moment a mechanical mouse ran across the hearth.

Now Mrs. Minks’ pet aversions were mice and men—in this order. She saw the mouse and leapt to get on a chair. The head-phones got entangled and the entire false front of her hair was swept away. It clung to the head-phones for a moment and then, as they swung from the mantel-piece, it caught fire and went up in a blaze. “It was done deliberate,” hissed Mrs. Minks, as she put her hands up to hide her frontal baldness.

Cousin Albert's wife took prompt revenge for the sneers at her cookery. “I’m so sorry,” she said sweetly, “I’ve no false ’air I can lend you, but if a nice bit of red flannel to wrap your ’ead up in will do you're more than welcome.”

Mr. Minks was just saying to Cousin Albert “Yesh, what I say is that frenship makes for Christmas—leastwise Christmas makes for frenship. Look at our missises, as ’appy as shlnglngbirds .”

It was at this moment that his wife swung into the room, and gripping him by the ear, ordered him home from a' house in which she had been deliberately insulted.

“Now, now,” said Cousin Albert, “don’t let a little tiff upset you. Stay the evening out. You worry too much'. Maria. You should keep your ’air on.”-

And it was those last fatal words that ensured the instant departure of the Mlnkses from Cousin Albert’s wireless party.