one, two, buckle my shoe

i

mr. morley was not in the best of tempers at breakfast. he complained of the bacon, wondered

why the coffee had to have the appearance of liquid mud, and remarked that breakfast cereals were

each one worse than the last.

mr. morley was a small man with a decided jaw and a pugnacious chin. his sister, who kept

house for him, was a large woman rather like a female grenadier. she eyed her brother

thoughtfully and asked whether the bath water had been cold again.

rather grudgingly, mr. morley said it had not.

he glanced at the paper and remarked that the government seemed to be passing from a state of

incompetence to one of positive imbecility!

miss morley said in a deep bass voice that it was disgraceful!

as a mere woman she had always found whatever government happened to be in power

distinctly useful. she urged her brother on to explain why the government’s present policy was

inconclusive, idiotic, imbecile and frankly suicidal!

when mr. morley had expressed himself fully on these points, he had a second cup of the

despised coffee and unburdened himself of his true grievance.

“these girls,” he said, “are all the same! unreliable, self-centred—not to be depended on in any

way.”

miss morley said interrogatively:

“gladys?”

“i’ve just had the message. her aunt’s had a stroke and she’s had to go down to somerset.”

miss morley said:

“very trying, dear, but after all hardly the girl’s fault.”

mr. morley shook his head gloomily.

“how do i know the aunt has had a stroke? how do i know the whole thing hasn’t been

arranged between the girl and that very unsuitable young fellow she goes about with? that young

man is a wrong ’un if i ever saw one! they’ve probably planned some outing together for today.”

“oh, no, dear, i don’t think gladys would do a thing like that. you know, you’ve always found

her very conscientious.”

“yes, yes.”

“an intelligent girl and really keen on her work, you said.”

“yes, yes, georgina, but that was before this undesirable young man came along. she’s been

quite different lately—quite different—absentminded—upset—nervy.”

the grenadier produced a deep sigh. she said:

“after all, henry, girls do fall in love. it can’t be helped.”

mr. morley snapped:

“she oughtn’t to let it affect her efficiency as my secretary. and today, in particular, i’m

extremely busy! several very important patients. it is most trying!”

“i’m sure it must be extremely vexing, henry. how is the new boy shaping, by the way?”

henry morley said gloomily:

“he’s the worst i’ve had yet! can’t get a single name right and has the most uncouth manners.

if he doesn’t improve i shall sack him and try again. i don’t know what’s the good of our

education nowadays. it seems to turn out a collection of nitwits who can’t understand a single

thing you say to them, let alone remember it.”

he glanced at his watch.

“i must be getting along. a full morning, and that sainsbury seale woman to fit in somewhere

as she is in pain. i suggested that she should see reilly, but she wouldn’t hear of it.”

“of course not,” said georgina loyally.

“reilly’s very able—very able indeed. first-class diplomas. thoroughly up-to-date in his

work.”

“his hand shakes,” said miss morley. “in my opinion he drinks.”

her brother laughed, his good temper restored. he said:

“i’ll be up for a sandwich at half past one as usual.”