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The Brother of Daphne

Dornford Yates

In feverish haste I hacked about a pound of meat off a York ham
and nearly as much off a new tongue.  Wrapping the slices in a
napkin, I thrust them into the pocket with the nose.  To add
half a brown loaf to the mask and drain the milk jug was the
work of another moment, and, after laying the note on Daphne's
plate, I slipped out of the French windows and into the bushes as
I heard William come down the passage. A quarter of an hour
later I was back again in the wood.

She was sitting on a log, swinging her legs to and fro.  When I
took off my coat and hat, she clapped her hands in delight.

"Wait till you see the nose," said I.

When presently I slipped that French monstrosity into place, she
laughed so immoderately that her brown hair broke loose from
under the black silk cap and tumbled gloriously about her
shoulders.

"There now," she said.  "See what you've done."

"Good for the nose," said I.

"It's all very well to say that, but it took me ages to get it
all under the wretched cap this morning."

"I shouldn't put it back again if I were you.  You see," I went
on earnestly, "everybody will know you're a girl, Judy dear."

"Why, Punch?"  She drew aside the dust coat and revealed the
wide Pierrot trousers she was wearing.

"Priceless," I admitted.  "But what I really love are your feet."
She
looked concernedly at her little, high-heeled shoes.

I stooped to flick the dust from their patent leather.

"Thank you, Punch.  What shall I do about my hair, then?"

"Wear it in a pig-tail.  I'll plait it for you.  It'll be worth
another sovereign to the Bananas."

"If you put it like that-" she said slowly.

"I do, Judy."
If the suggestion was not prompted by motives which were entirely
disinterested, I think I may be forgiven.

"I say, Judy," I said a little later, pausing unnecessarily in
my work, and making pretence to comb with my fingers the tresses
as yet ungathered into the plait.

"Yes? What a long time you are!"

Well, there was a knot.

She tried to look round into my face at that, but I vigorously
unplaited about two inches, which seemed to satisfy her.  For me,
I thought of Penelope and her web and the wooers, and smiled.

"Well, what is it, Punch?"

"About the mask."

"No good!"

"But, Judy- "

For the next two minutes I did a little listening.  When she
paused for breath:

"Have some ham," I suggested.

"Bother the ham!  Do you hear what I say?"

"I heard you bother the ham."

"Before that?"

"Something about a mask, was it?"

"Give me back my hair," she demanded.

"No, no," I said hastily, "not that!  I won't ask again."

"Promise."

"I promise."

When I had finished the plaiting, I tied the ends with a piece
of ribbon which she produced, kissed them, and sat down in the
grass at her feet.

We had oceans of time, for the fete did not begin till two.  But
we
agreed there must be a rehearsal of some  kind.

"What do you know about yourself, Punch?"

"I have a foggy recollection of domestic differences."

"You used to beat me cruelly."

"Ah, but you had a nagging tongue, Judy.  I can hear your defiant
'wootle' now."

Her lips parted in a smile at the reminiscence, and before they
closed again she had slipped something between them.  The next
instant the wood rang with a regular hurricane of toots and
wootles.

"Oh, Judy!"

"Wootle?"  she said inquiringly.

"Rather!  But hush- you'll wake the echoes."

"And why not?  They ought to be up and about by now."

I shook my head.

"They're a sleepy folk," I said; "they get so little rest.  The
day is noisy enough, but at night, what with dogs baying the
moon, and the nightjars calling, when owls do cry- "

"When owls do cry- "

"- and the earnest but mistaken chanticleer, they have a rotten
time.  Poor echoes!  And they wake very easily here."

"Don't they everywhere?"

"Oh, no!  I know some that are very heavy sleepers.  In fact,
it's hopeless to try and wake them without the welkin."

"The welkin?"

"Yes, you make him ring, you know.  They nearly always hear
him.  And if they don't the first time, you make him ring again."

For a little space she laughed helplessly.  At last:

"I am an idiot to encourage you.  Seriously," she added, "about
the little play."

"Presently by us to be enacted?"

"The plot," I said, "is as follows.  Punch has a row with Judy
and knocks her out.  (Laughter.)  Various well-intentioned and
benignant fools look in on Punch to pass the time of day, and
get- very properly- knocked out for their pains.  (Loud and
prolonged laughter.) This is followed by the side-splitting
incident in which a handy clown not only eludes the thirsty
bludgeon, but surreptitiously steals the inevitable sausages.
Exit clown.  Punch, already irritated at having missed clown,
misses sausages, and exit in high dudgeon.  Re-enter Judy,
followed by sausaged clown, who comforts her. (Oh, Judy!)
Re-enter Punch.  Justifiable tussle.  Punch sees sausages and
begins to find his length.  Clown sees stars and exit.  Punch
knocks out Judy with a left hook.  To him, gloating, enter
constable.  It seems Judy's knock-out more serious than usual.
Constable suggests that Punch shall go quietly.  Punch does not
see it, and retires to fetch persuader.  Constable protests and
is persuaded.  (Laughter.) Enter ghost- not clear whose ghost,
but any ghost in a storm.  Punch unnerved.  Ghost gibbers.  Punch
more unnerved.  Ghost gibbers again.  Punch terrified.  Exit
ghost and enter hangman, to whom Punch, unstrung by recent
encounter with apparition, falls an easy prey. Curtain.  You bow
from the mouth of the booth.  I adjust nose and collect money in
diminutive tin pail.  How's that?"

"Lovely, Punch!  But where does Toby dear come in?"

At the mention of his name the terrier rose and went to her.
His mistress stroked his soft head.

"In the background," said I.  " Or the offing (nautical).  I
don't think he'd better act.  Let him be stage-door-keeper."

"All right.  Now open the puppet-box."

It was a nice set of puppets, and they were very simple to
manipulate.  They fitted easily on to the hand, the forefinger
controlling the head, and the thumb and second finger the arms.
The old fellow's cudgel was a dream.

We decided that I had better stick to Punch and Punch alone.
For the others she would be answerable.

After rehearsing for half an hour, we stopped for breakfast.  In
the absence of cutlery, it was a ragged meal, but what mattered
that?  We were for letting the world slip- we should ne'er be
younger.

People were stirring now.  Carts rumbled in the distance, and
cars sang past on the long, white road.  Presently came one that
slowed and slowed and stopped.

It was unfortunate that, but a moment before, I should have
grown impatient of a large piece of crust and thrust it bodily
into my mouth.  But although articulation at this interesting
juncture was out of the question, I laid an eloquent hand upon
her arm and crowded as much expression as I could into a swollen
and distorted visage.  She glanced at me and collapsed in silent
infectious laughter.  And so it happened that, while we two
conspirators lay shaking in the bracken, her friends turned their
car wonderingly round and drove slowly back into the village away
from her they sought.

Another hour and a half of somewhat desultory rehearsal found us
'wootle' perfect and ready for anything.  So we laid the puppets
by, fed Toby with brown bread and tongue, and rested against the
labours of the afternoon.

The time passed quickly enough- too quickly.



It was a few minutes past one when, having adjusted my mask and
slid my nose into position, I got the booth upon my shoulders
and stepped out into the road.

"Come along," I said encouragingly.

"I'm afraid.  Oh, there's something coming."

"Nonsense!  I wish I hadn't packed that bludgeon."

"I'm nervous, Punch."

"Will you make me drag you along by the hair of your head?  Of
course, it'd be in the picture right enough, but I rather want
two hands for this infernal booth.  However, let me once get a
good grip on that soft pigtail- "

"What- again?"

"Ah, that was in love, Judy."

The next second she had joined me on the white highway, the
faithful Toby a short pace behind her.  His not to reason why.
A good fellow, Toby.

It was rather a nervous moment.  But, in spite of an approaching
wagonette, she walked bravely beside me with the puppet-box
under her arm.  The occupants of the vehicle began to evince
great curiosity as we drew nearer, but their mare caught sight of
my nose at the critical moment and provided an opportune
diversion.

"So perish all our enemies!"  she said with a sigh of relief.

"Stage-fright, Judy, dear.  You'll be all right in a minute.
We're bound to excite interest.  It's what we're for and what
we want.  I'll keep it going.  Give me your wootler."

She handed me the reed, and I held it ready between my lips.

"Buck up, lass!"

Ten minutes more and we entered the village.  The grounds where
the fete was to be holden lay three-quarters of a mile further
on.  The ball was opened by two small errand boys, on whose
hands, as is usual with the breed, time was lying heavily.
They were engaged in deep converse as we came up, and it was only
when we were close upon them that they became aware of our
presence.  For a few seconds they stared at us, apparently rooted
to the spot, and as if they could not believe their good fortune.
Then one broke into an explosive bellow of delight, while the
other ran off squeaking with excitement to find other devils who
should share the treasure-trove.  But, unlike his infamous
predecessor, he was not content with seven.  When he returned, it
was but as the van of a fast-swelling rabble.  His erstwhile
companion, who had been backing steadily in front of me ever
since he left, and had, after a hurried consideration of the
respective merits of the booth and the box under Judy's arm,
rejected them both in favour of my nose, kept his eyes fastened
greedily upon that organ with so desperate an air of
concentration that I was quite relieved when he tripped over a
brick and fell on his back in the road.

And all this time our following grew.  The news of our advent
had spread like wildfire.  Old men and maidens, young men and
boys, the matron and the maid, alike came running.  Altogether,
Lynn Hammer was set throbbing with an excitement such as it had
not experienced since the baker's assistant was wrongly arrested
for petty larceny in 1904.

Amongst those who walked close about us, candid speculation as
to the probable venue of the performance was rife, while its
style, length, value, etc., were all frankly discussed.  Many
were the questions raised, and many the inaccurate explanations
accepted as to the reason of our being; but though my companion
came in for some inevitable discussion, I was relieved to find
that my panache and a comic peculiarity of gait, which I thought
it as well from time to time to affect, proved usefully
diverting.

When the crowd had begun to assume considerable proportions,
Judy had slipped her arm in mine, and an answering pressure to my
encouraging squeeze told me that she was trying to buck up as
well as she could.  Good little Judy!  It was an ordeal for you,
but you came through it with flying colours, though with a
flaming cheek.

When we reached the triangular piece of grass that lay in front
of the village inn, I called a halt with such suddeness as to
create great confusion in the swarming ranks that followed in
our wake.  But while they sorted themselves, I slipped the booth
off my shoulders, gave one long, echoing call upon the reed, and,
striking an attitude, made ready to address the expectant
villagers.

After carefully polishing my nose with a silk handkerchief- an
action which met with instant approval- I selected a fat,
red-faced drayman, thanked him, and said that mine was a Bass, an
assertion which found high favour with the more immediate cronies
of the gentleman in question.  Then I got to work.

After dwelling lightly on the renown in which the village of
Lynn Hammer was held throughout the countryside, not to mention a
gallant reference to the wit, beauty, and mirth which was
assembled about me, I plunged into a facetious resume of recent
local events. This, of course, came to me easily enough, but the
crowd only saw therein the lucky ventures of a talkative
stranger, and roared with merriment at each happy allusion.  And
so I came to the Bananas.  Yes, we were for the fete.  There
should we be the livelong afternoon, giving free shows, and only
afterwards soliciting contribution from such as could afford to
give in a good cause.  God save the King!

Then I called for mine host, and after ordering ginger beer for
Judy and old ale for myself, slapped silver into his hand, and
begged as many as would so honour her to drink the lady's health.

About that there was no difficulty, and when I had despatched
the original boy- who all this while had never wavered in his
constancy to my proboscis- for a small tin pail, I prepared to
get my burden once more upon my back.  But this was not to be.
Four good fellows insisted on constituting themselves
booth-bearers, and the burly drayman gallantly relieved my fair
companion of the box of puppets.

So we came in state to the grounds where the bazaar was to be
held.   The parley with the gatekeeper was of short duration,
for the 'workers' scented money in our admission, and, with an
eye to the Bananas' main chance, made us quickly welcome.  On my
explaining our intention to put our efforts at their service,
and any increment that might result into their pockets, their
expression of gratitude was quite touching.

The entrance fee deterred some, and their daily occupation more
of those who had formed our kindly escort, from following us into
the fete, but I believe that most of them contrived to return
before six o'clock.

When I think of all that I said and did on that sunny afternoon,
I get hot all over.

I could not go very far wrong during the actual performance, but
it was afterwards, when Judy sat smiling in the mouth of the
booth, and I went forth, pail in hand, seeking whom I might
devour.

I drew my arm familiarly through that of a reluctant curate, and
walked him smartly up and down, discussing volubly the merits of
my nose in tones which suggested that I had no roof to my mouth,
Did a lady protest that she had already contributed, I repeated
"Oh, madam!" reproachfully and crescendo till the hush-money was
paid, while in front of those who affected not to see my
out-stretched hand, I stood as if rooted to the spot.  I borrowed
the vicar's wideawake, ostensibly for a conjuring trick, and wore
it assiduously for the rest of the afternoon and, on his
demurring to such use, I explained, in the voice of G.P.Huntley,
that it went so well with the nose.

In short, I played the mountebank to a degree that astonished
myself, but apparently to some purpose, for the money came in
properly.

The performances went with a bang, and when, at the conclusion
of the playlet, I lifted Judy to the rickety shelf, so that her
head and shoulders were framed in the mouth of the booth, it was
the signal for a burst of applause.

On one of these occasions:

"It's not fair that I should take every call," she said, looking
down at my upturned face.

"My dear Judy, I have my reward."

"What?"

"Don't I lift you up every time?"

She laughed pleasedly.

"Gallant Punch, you're easily satisfied."

"Am I, Judy- am I?"  I said gently, taking her hand.

"Yes," she said, snatching it away.  " You are and will be.  Go
out
and get the money."

I adjusted my nose thoughtfully.   Daphne was, of course, in
great evidence.  Anxious to run no unnecessary risk, I avoided
her when possible, and when I did find myself in her proximity, I
at once indulged in some of my more extravagant behaviour.

"Where's your brother?" I heard a worker say.

"Brother!" said Daphne bitterly.  "Coward! And I really thought
we should have him this time.  Fled to London before we were up
this morning, thank you.  From the amount of food he took with
him, and the way he took it, anyone would have thought he was an
escaped convict.  Guilty conscience, I suppose.  One hears a good
deal about record flights nowadays, but I'd back my miserable
brother against any aviator.  My husband's promised to look in
about five, if he's back from Huntercombe.  That's something.
But they're a wretched lot.  Oh, here's one of the Pierrots!"

I hung the pail on my nose and looked at her.

"As one of the organizers of the fete," she said hastily, "I must
thank you- "

"Nothing doing, madam," said I, in an assumed voice.

"But"

"Free list entirely suspended, madam," and I shook the pail
mercilessly.

A small and grinning crowd had begun to collect, so Daphne parted
up with a forced smile, and I went off chuckling to queer the
animals' race.

Our penultimate performance was over, and I was in the midst of
my vagaries again, when I saw Berry.  Unanxious to tempt
Providence, I retired precipitately to the shelter of the booth.
My companion was sitting disconsolately upon the box on which she
stood to work her puppets.

"Is it time for the next show?" she said.

"Not for a quarter of an hour."

I sat down at her feet and removed my mask and nose.

"I'm afraid I persuaded your hand last time, Judy."

"You touched it."

"Let me look."

"It doesn't show."

"Let me look."

After examining the knuckles carefully, I turned my attention to
the soft little palm.

"Obstinacy," I said.  "Obstinacy is clearly indicated by the
dimple situate below Saturn and to the right of the
watering-pot."

She tried to draw it away, but I tightened my hold and proceeded
with my investigation.

"A gentle and confiding nature, characterized by a penchant for
escapade, is denoted by the joy-wheel at the base of Halley's
Comet.  And so we come to the life-belt.  This- my  word, this
is all right!  Unrivalled for resistance to damp and wear, will
last three to six times as long as ordinary paint- I mean life-
of extraordinary durability.  Now for the heart-line.  The expert
will here descry a curious mixture of-

Further investigation she cut short by so determined an attempt
at withdrawal that I let her hand go.

"Oughtn't we to be beginning again?"

"You're very eager for the last show."

"No, I'm not, but I want to get it over."

"Oh, Judy!"

She laid her hand on my shoulder.

"No, Punch, no, I didn't mean that.  It's been- great fun."

"It's sweet of you to say that."

"It's not.  Don't you think I've liked it?"

I leaned forward.

"Dear Judy," I said, "very soon it will be over, and we shall go
our several ways once more.  And if we don't meet, as the months
and years go by, when other cleverer, better men walk by your
side, and glorious days crowd thick about you, throw a spare
thought to the old time when you were a strolling player, and the
poor fool you gave the honour of your company."

She turned her head away, but she did not speak.

"You'll not forget me, Judy?"

She caught her breath and slipped a hand under her mask for a
second.  Then:

"Next show, Punch," she cried.  "No, of course, I shan't.
You've been very good to me."

She was on her feet by now and busily arranging the puppets.  I
groaned.  The next moment she had wound a long call upon the
reed, which put further converse out of the question.

The last performance began.  The first quarrel seemed to lack its
wonted bitterness.  Punch appeared halfhearted, and Judy was
simply walking through.

I glanced at the girl and stroked her pig-tail- my pig-tail.

"Wootle," I said encouragingly.  " Wootle, wootle."

She started at my touch.  Then she seemed to remember, and flung
herself into her part with abandon.

When the ghost was on, I had a brilliant idea.

"Leave the hangman out," I whispered, "and put up Judy instead.
We'll have a reconciliation to finish with."

And so to Punch, sobered, shaking, cowering in the corner, with
his little plaster hands before his face, came his poor wife.
(Oh, but she did it well !) Gently, timidly, bravely, she laid a
trembling hand upon his shoulder, and coaxed his hands from
before his frightened eyes, then, backing, stood with
outstretched, appealing little arms- a gesture at once so loving
and pathetic that Punch was fain to thrust his sleeve before his
eyes and turn his face in shame to the wall.  Softly went Judy to
him again, touched him, and waited.  And as he turned again, to
find two little arms stealing about his neck, and a poor, bare,
bruised head upon his chest, he flung his arms about her with a
toot of joy, and clasped her in the accepted fashion.  Oh, very
charming.

This was greeted with prolonged applause.

"Hold it," I said.  " Hold the picture!"

As she obeyed I slid my left arm about her, ready to lift her up.

Suddenly Punch became limp and lifeless in his wife's embrace,
and with my freed right hand I slipped her mask over her
forehead, smiled into her eyes, and kissed them.

"I promised not to ask again."

"Punch!"

So for a moment we two let the world wag.  Then the whole booth
fell heavily over, mouth uppermost, and we within it.  It was the
final of the animal race that was responsible for our overthrow.
The black pig, blind with jealous rage and mortification at being
beaten on the tape by a cochin china, had borne violently down
upon the booth and upset it, with wicked grunts of satisfaction.

"Hurt, dear?" said I.

"No."

As she slipped her mask into place, Berry put his head in at the
mouth of the booth.  Maskless, noseless, I looked at him.  Slowly
his astonished features relaxed in a grin.

"So!" he said softly.  "I might have known."
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