THE PERFECT VALET

Dominion, Volume 29, Issue 80, 28 December 1935, Page 16

THE PERFECT VALET

“A Master Your Own Size”

No vaudeville could have produced a greater laugh than that which shook the rafters of a Brussels court when Firmin, the perfect conception of a valet, was suing his master, Monsieur le Vicomte, for £5O arrears in wages. In the witness-box Firmin explained that he entered the service of the defendant in 1931.

“He was a good master, not proud, and very generous,” he said, quite confidentially. “His left-off suits fitted me like a glove”—and here, looking straight at the magistrate, he advised him always to choose masters of his own size—“and at first he paid me regularly. "Then, for one month I received my wages a fortnight late but with 10/- extra for the delay. “Later M. le Vicomte formed the habit of not paying me at all. When lie had money he was generous, so I did not complain particularly as) I had some money in the bank. “When better times came I would present my bill and all would be well. I even advanced M. le Vicomte some pocket-money and paid an instalment on his motor-car.” Here Firmin paused a moment while the court tittered, straightened his bow, smoothed his hair, and glancing sideways at his master, announced slowly and deliberately: “Then he played me a dirty trick.”

The court sat up. "In May he borrowed £lO and gave me two days’ leave. I went to Ostend, but the weather was so impossible that I came back the same day.

In the smoking room the lights

were full on, flowers' were everywhere, cakes and wine on the table and there was M. le Vicomte”—another pause to stifle his indignation—“there was M. le Vicomte with my fiancee.” It was five minutes before the hilarity, in which everybody joined, could be suppressed. Then Firmin continued: “Despite the respect every valet owes his master I hit M. le Vicomte. Yes, Monsieur le Judge. I hit him and then I showed fhe girl the nearest way out. One girl more or less, pshaw I” he said, snapping his fingers. “But now I claim settlement of my arrears of wages.” M. le Vicomte admitted everything but he told the magistrate that the valet had declared that if he won a prize in a lottery he would remain in his service without pay. “He had a win,” he said airily, while adjusting his monocle, “so I owe him nothing.” The magistrate was shocked. “Ail work must be paid for,” he thundered, emphasising his statement by banging on his desk. “Your servant’s account is correct and you must pay it.” “Oh, rather!” concurred the defendant, “but with what?” “That is your business, not mine,” answered the magistrate, concluding the case. “I will take your car in settlement,” offered the affable Firmin.

“You know it is not mine,” explained the kind but defaulting master.

“Oh, well,” sighed the valet, linking his arm through that of 31. le Vicomte, “Come on, let’s go."