MR BLOWKER'S MARRIED COUPLES.

Otago Witness, Issue 1989, 7 April 1892, Page 43

MR BLOWKER'S MARRIED COUPLES.

A Sketch, by Steelpen.

11 WANTED, a married couple without encumbrance. — Apply to Thomas Blowker, Springvale."

" that'll raise something," murmured Mr Blowker as ha mopped his bald head with a silk handkerchief and then looked a second time with pride and complacency upon the advertisement he had concocted.

Mr Blowker had been brought to this pass by a series of hard-fcught conflicts with Mrs Blowker. That good lady had seen the rise in wool, and, womanlike, wanted her share of the profits to put it into a material form — " a married couple."

When a tall bony woman of strong personality and considerable oratorical power demands and fights for a thing it is always well to give way as far as is feasible. Mr Blowker was a short man. Beside Mrs Blowker he looked almost a dwarf, but only from the comparison. He was simply a small man. He had a bald head and a blue — or rather two blue eyes. He gave the impression of only having one, for whenever he spoke he cocked his head on one side after the fashion of a bird, and shutting down the lid of one eye looked very knowingly out of the other. Possibly he found it impossible to look knowingly out of two eyes at once, and being a man who prided himself on his sagacitj, he shut one. The other part of bis face sank into insignificance beside the eyes. He wore a brown beard cropped close, a soft hat, and a fashionably-cut coat. It didn't matter what his trousers were, for his legs were so bow they looked the same in anything.

When Mrs Blowker showed fight over the married couples Mr Blowker, like a wise man, gave in. After consi lerable deliberation the advertisement for the wanted column was drawn out and duly inserted. It had a result in the shape of a .tall man with a bent leg and a perpetual smile. He said both he and his wife were excellent servants. They had an encumbrance which they would leave with friends. Both he and his wife were referred to Mrs Blowker. She having got herself up in her best black silk and most terrible feather, interviewed them in the servant agent's office, and having asked them every question she could think of about themselves, their sisters, their cousins, and their aunts she eventually engaged them. The encumbrance was left behind. In due course Mr and Mrs Dacker (Dacker was their name) same. The first night Mrs Blowker scurried round, showing the duties for which they had been engaged. Mr Biowker sat in his chair and looked uncomfortable ; the new man sang his favourite air, which seemed to be "In happy moments." He sang the top line only over and over again at the highest pitch of his voice, and the melody kept penetrating, "much to Mr Blowker's annoyance, into the sitting room, where he was trying to read the paper. " Do trj to stop that man, my dear," he said at last mildly.

Mrs Blowker departed and remonstrated. Mrs Dacker said, " Willie always sang when he was not well, which he wasn't to-night." Mrs Blowker went back and soothed Mr Blowker. She said it was not so bad after all. For her part she liked to hear a man sing; it showed a good disposition. Singing was about the last thing her husband would have been guilty of, and he naturally felt hurt at this. He shut one eye, read the paper, and bore the noise.

The couple were not a success. The man loafed, and Mrs Dacker was a bad servant. She was always startling Mr Blowker with her familiarity. She had remains of beauty and false teeth, which she wobbled about and rattled at one. She said she got them cheap from a dentist, who shall be nameless. Her eyes were still good, and belied her nature, for they looked honest. One morning Mr Blowker came downstairs dressed in a black coat, with a yellow silk tie and cord riding trousers, which, if possible, made his bow legs look more bandy than ever. He looked very nice, very neat, and he knew it. Mrs Dacker was laying the breakfast cloth. She said good morning, and Mr Blowker replied politely. " Going to town, sir 1 " she asked, and he looked surprised, drew himself up, shut one eye, and nodded assent. "Going to do a mash, Mr Blowker ? " she asked again, and smiled at him. Mr Blowker was still more surprised. Mash was a most offensive word to a«very proper man. He looked down at bis small legs inwardly, hoping they weren't very bandy, looked as dignified as one of his stature could do, and said be never did such

things.- His answer Was Very short and to the point and meant to be conclusive, but the woman only cackled, stuck her head on one side; and looked out at him! from both her eyes. Then she said, with a regular ripple of what was meant to be laughter, l> Gammon yer don't."

Mr Blowker made no reply. What reply was possible 7 He stuck his hat on his head and stalked out; all his pleasure in his neatness gone to the foiir winds of heaven. Mr Blowker remained angry all day, a"nd when the dinner came in spoilt at night he put his foot down. The Dacker3 received notice.

Again the advertisement, and again Mrs Blowker engaged the couple. They also were a failure. The woman was a regular nightmare. One of her eyes was missing, and when Mr Blowker spoke to her with his one eye shut they looked at each other on equal terms. They were a ridiculous caricature. The woman seemed to be mocking Mr Blowker. The man and woman wound up with a free fight in the kitchen, and went next morning. Mr Blowker put his foot down a second time and said he would engage the couple for a change. He did so, much to his own satisfaction and his wife's disgust ; still more to his satisfaction they were a great success. They were a presentable couple, and the man was small, did his work well, and shirked nothing. Mrs Blowker denied that the woman had any good points, but Mr Blowker attributed this to feminine jealousy, and sagaciously remarked, " They were all alike ; created second fiddle they'd have to play second fiddle," which sentiment women say belongs to the days of paganism, and won't be tolerated now. Mr Blowker was brute enough and ignorant enough to think differently, and he decided to keep the couple, in spite of a secret fear of his better half which underlay his assumed bold front. At the end of the first month,, however, this worthy gentleman was doomed to receive a shock. He came downstairs, as was his wont, one morning and went outside as far as the backyard, beyond which he never ventured before breakfast. He would certainly have got no further on this morning, for there, in that back yard — in Mr Blowker's backyard — was the figure of a very small child, with long fair hair and rosy cheeks. He was seated upon a piece of wood, and even to an uninitiated eye was playing a game of his own. When he saw Mr Blowker he came running towards him. If it had been possible that gentleman would have escaped. Unfortunately it was too late. The intruder had arrived and had caught hold of one of Mr Blowker's hands. "Do oo live 'ere ? " said this very small child ; " Do oo live 'ere with my daddy? "

Mr Blowker shut one eye and looked down. He nodded assent and quietly tried to pull his fat chubby hand out of the child's grasp.

"Take me up, will oo?" said the small voice of the very small child, and Mr Blowker's one eye in a weak moment dwelt on a pair of blue eyes upraised to him. He was fond of children, though he hadn't any of his own. This was a very take-tbings-for-granted sort of a young person. Whereever it came from Mr Blowker was not quite sure just at present. No matter where it came from, it seemed a very companionable sort of being. In a weak moment Mr Blowker took him Tip. " Oh, that's not comfy; oo don't hold me right," said the child so soon as Mr Blowker had placed him in what he thought a comfortable position.

He had never had much to do with children, but at last he seemed to get this one right, for it settled down in his arms in a most familiar manner. Mr Blowker cast a look at his wife's window. If she was looking it was a most dreadful predicament, and with his one eye shut he ventured on asking where daddy was.

"Ob, daddy!" said the small child, " daddy's down for the cows ; he'llbe back soon." " Where's your mammy 1 " suggested Mr Blowker ; but the very small 'child didn't know. , Mr Blowker at this stage asked the child If he didn't think it would be a good plan to go inU- the kitchen. The child thought so, and thither they went. Everybody seemed to be out of the way this morning.

" Daddy says Teddy has no 'ome now," said the small child, by way of continuing the conversation, which seemed to flag. " Teddy has no 'ome." " Dear me," muttered Mr Blowker, thinking the position he was in very unfortunate.

"Yes," said the small child; "very naughty man make poor daddy work. Poor Teddy very poor now."

All this seemed very hard on Mr Blowker's humanity. It all seemed owing to him — this child's poverty and loss of home. Thank heaven there was the father coming down the path with the milk buckets. Thank heaven Mrs Blowker couldn't possibly have seen him as yet. But there was no time for any more such thoughts, for he and his man were face to face.

" John 1 John 1 " he said— Mr Blowker was determined to be angry; "John, what the devil's this ? What the devil am I to do with it, John ? " • The man smiled, but it was a very sad smile, which appealed strongly to Mr Blowker. He'd often laid down laws about humanity, but this was the first time he'd ever felt the inevitable law of nature, which makes all men kin, and at times welds them together heart to heart, feeling to feeling, soul to soul — that indissoluble bond of brotherhood that sweeps all obstacles of class before it. It was only a very slight touch he felt now, and he put it down to.weakness, and wished for Mra Blowker.

" Please, sir, I think I'd better give you notice," said the man.

" How's that, John ? " asked Mr Blowker, and he summoned up courage, and put Teddy down. Teddy ran and caught hold of his father's hand.

" Well, sir," said the man, looking down very tenderly on the small piece of humanity beside him — " well, sir, the fact Jis we deceived you. We've had an encumbrance, if this 'ere laddie can be called that, all along. We thought as 'ow we could do wi'out 'im, sir, but it ain't in 'uman natur' ; and tho' he be nothin' but a useless happendage to you, Bir, 'c's everything to us."

" Well, John," said Mr Blowker, mildly.

"We can't do wi'out 'im, sir, and unless we keep 'im 'ere we go."

The very little child, looking up at his father, whimpered, " Dot no 'ome now ; naughty man make daddy work."

" He knows, sir, even now the difference between working for yerself and working for others, He's werry quiet and good, and if yer gave 'im a trial I don't think yer'd find 'lm in the way," said the man.

" I'll try" it for a month, John," replied Mr Blowker.

" Tbank'e, sir,"" said the man.

"All right, John; all right," said Mr Blowker ; " but between you and me and the woodheapy when Mrs Blowker hears of this there'll be the devil to pay — the very devil to pay, John."

And that's just what there was, but Mr Blowker shut one eye and put his foot down, and Mrs Blowker plays second fiddle.