The Little White Bird; Or, Adventures in Kensington Gardens

by J. M. Barrie

  VIII. The Inconsiderate Waiter

  They were the family of William, one of our club waiters who had beendisappointing me grievously of late. Many a time have I deferred diningseveral minutes that I might have the attendance of this ingrate. Hisefforts to reserve the window-table for me were satisfactory, and Iused to allow him privileges, as to suggest dishes; I have given himinformation, as that someone had startled me in the reading-room byslamming a door; I have shown him how I cut my finger with a pieceof string. William was none of your assertive waiters. We could haveplotted a murder safely before him. It was one member who said to himthat Saucy Sarah would win the Derby and another who said that SaucySarah had no chance, but it was William who agreed with both. Theexcellent fellow (as I thought him) was like a cheroot which may besmoked from either end.

  I date his lapse from one evening when I was dining by the window. I hadto repeat my order "Devilled kidney," and instead of answering brightly,"Yes, sir," as if my selection of devilled kidney was a personalgratification to him, which is the manner one expects of a waiter, hegazed eagerly out at the window, and then, starting, asked, "Did yousay devilled kidney, sir?" A few minutes afterward I became aware thatsomeone was leaning over the back of my chair, and you may conceive myindignation on discovering that this rude person was William. Let metell, in the measured words of one describing a past incident, what nexttook place. To get nearer the window he pressed heavily on my shoulder."William," I said, "you are not attending to me!"

  To be fair to him, he shook, but never shall I forget his audaciousapology, "Beg pardon, sir, but I was thinking of something else."

  And immediately his eyes resought the window, and this burst from himpassionately, "For God's sake, sir, as we are man and man, tell me ifyou have seen a little girl looking up at the club-windows."

  Man and man! But he had been a good waiter once, so I pointed out thegirl to him. As soon as she saw William she ran into the middle of PallMall, regardless of hansoms (many of which seemed to pass over her),nodded her head significantly three times and then disappeared (probablyon a stretcher). She was the tawdriest little Arab of about ten years,but seemed to have brought relief to William. "Thank God!" said hefervently, and in the worst taste.

  I was as much horrified as if he had dropped a plate on my toes. "Bread,William," I said sharply.

  "You are not vexed with me, sir?" he had the hardihood to whisper.

  "It was a liberty," I said.

  "I know, sir, but I was beside myself."

  "That was a liberty again."

  "It is my wife, sir, she--"

  So William, whom I had favoured in so many ways, was a married man. Ifelt that this was the greatest liberty of all.

  I gathered that the troublesome woman was ailing, and as one who likesafter dinner to believe that there is no distress in the world, Idesired to be told by William that the signals meant her return tohealth. He answered inconsiderately, however, that the doctor feared theworst.

  "Bah, the doctor," I said in a rage.

  "Yes, sir," said William.

  "What is her confounded ailment?"

  "She was allus one of the delicate kind, but full of spirit, and yousee, sir, she has had a baby-girl lately--"

  "William, how dare you," I said, but in the same moment I saw that thisfather might be useful to me. "How does your baby sleep, William?" Iasked in a low voice, "how does she wake up? what do you put in herbath?"

  I saw surprise in his face, so I hurried on without waiting for ananswer. "That little girl comes here with a message from your wife?"

  "Yes, sir, every evening; she's my eldest, and three nods from her meansthat the missus is a little better."

  "There were three nods to-day?"

  "Yes, sir.

  "I suppose you live in some low part, William?"

  The impudent fellow looked as if he could have struck me. "Off DruryLane," he said, flushing, "but it isn't low. And now," he groaned,"she's afeared she will die without my being there to hold her hand."

  "She should not say such things."

  "She never says them, sir. She allus pretends to be feeling stronger.But I knows what is in her mind when I am leaving the house in themorning, for then she looks at me from her bed, and I looks at her fromthe door--oh, my God, sir!"

  "William!"

  At last he saw that I was angry, and it was characteristic of him to begmy pardon and withdraw his wife as if she were some unsuccessful dish.I tried to forget his vulgar story in billiards, but he had spoiledmy game, and next day to punish him I gave my orders through anotherwaiter. As I had the window-seat, however, I could not but see that thelittle girl was late, and though this mattered nothing to me and I hadfinished my dinner, I lingered till she came. She not only nodded threetimes but waved her hat, and I arose, having now finished my dinner.

  William came stealthily toward me. "Her temperature has gone down, sir,"he said, rubbing his hands together.

  "To whom are you referring?" I asked coldly, and retired to thebilliard-room, where I played a capital game.

  I took pains to show William that I had forgotten his maunderings, butI observed the girl nightly, and once, instead of nodding, she shook herhead, and that evening I could not get into a pocket. Next eveningthere was no William in the dining-room, and I thought I knew what hadhappened. But, chancing to enter the library rather miserably, Iwas surprised to see him on a ladder dusting books. We had the roompractically to ourselves, for though several members sat on chairsholding books in their hands they were all asleep, and William descendedthe ladder to tell me his blasting tale. He had sworn at a member!

  "I hardly knew what I was doing all day, sir, for I had left her soweakly that--"

  I stamped my foot.

  "I beg your pardon for speaking of her," he had the grace to say. "ButIrene had promised to come every two hours; and when she came aboutfour o'clock and I saw she was crying, it sort of blinded me, sir, andI stumbled against a member, Mr. B----, and he said, 'Damn you!' Well,sir, I had but touched him after all, and I was so broken it sort ofstung me to be treated so and I lost my senses, and I said, 'Damn you!'"

  His shamed head sank on his chest, and I think some of the readersshuddered in their sleep.

  "I was turned out of the dining-room at once, and sent here until thecommittee have decided what to do with me. Oh, sir, I am willing to goon my knees to Mr. B----"

  How could I but despise a fellow who would be thus abject for a pound aweek?

  "For if I have to tell her I have lost my place she will just fall backand die."

  "I forbid your speaking to me of that woman," I cried wryly, "unless youcan speak pleasantly," and I left him to his fate and went off tolook for B----. "What is this story about your swearing at one of thewaiters?" I asked him.

  "You mean about his swearing at me," said B----, reddening.

  "I am glad that was it," I said, "for I could not believe you guilty ofsuch bad form. The version which reached me was that you swore at eachother, and that he was to be dismissed and you reprimanded."

  "Who told you that?" asked B----, who is a timid man.

  "I am on the committee," I replied lightly, and proceeded to talk ofother matters, but presently B----, who had been reflecting, said: "Doyou know I fancy I was wrong in thinking that the waiter swore at me,and I shall withdraw the charge to-morrow."

  I was pleased to find that William's troubles were near an end withoutmy having to interfere in his behalf, and I then remembered that hewould not be able to see the girl Irene from the library windows,which are at the back of the club. I was looking down at her, butshe refrained from signalling because she could not see William, andirritated by her stupidity I went out and asked her how her mother was.

  "My," she ejaculated after a long scrutiny of me, "I b'lieve you areone of them!" and she gazed at me with delighted awe. I suppose Williamtells them of our splendid doings.

  The invalid, it appeared, was a bit better, and this annoying childwanted to info
rm William that she had took all the tapiocar. She was toindicate this by licking an imaginary plate in the middle of PallMall. I gave the little vulgarian a shilling, and returned to the clubdisgusted.

  "By the way, William," I said, "Mr. B---- is to inform the committeethat he was mistaken in thinking you used improper language to him, soyou will doubtless be restored to the dining-room to-morrow."

  I had to add immediately, "Remember your place, William."

  "But Mr. B---- knows I swore," he insisted.

  "A gentleman," I replied stiffly, "cannot remember for many hours what awaiter has said to him."

  "No, sir, but--"

  To stop him I had to say, "And--ah--William, your wife is decidedlybetter. She has eaten the tapioca--all of it."

  "How can you know, sir?"

  "By an accident."

  "Irene signed to the window?"

  "No."

  "Then you saw her and went out and--"

  "How dare you, William?"

  "Oh, sir, to do that for me! May God bl--"

  "William."

  He was reinstated in the dining-room, but often when I looked at him Iseemed to see a dying wife in his face, and so the relations between uswere still strained. But I watched the girl, and her pantomime was soilluminating that I knew the sufferer had again cleaned the platter onTuesday, had attempted a boiled egg on Wednesday (you should have seenIrene chipping it in Pall Mall, and putting in the salt), but was in awoful state of relapse on Thursday.

  "Is your mother very ill to-day, Miss Irene?" I asked, as soon as I haddrawn her out of range of the club-windows.

  "My!" she exclaimed again, and I saw an ecstatic look pass between herand a still smaller girl with her, whom she referred to as a neighbour.

  I waited coldly. William's wife, I was informed, had looked like nothingbut a dead one till she got the brandy.

  "Hush, child," I said, shocked. "You don't know how the dead look."

  "Bless yer!" she replied.

  Assisted by her friend, who was evidently enormously impressed byIrene's intimacy with me, she gave me a good deal of miscellaneousinformation, as that William's real name was Mr. Hicking, but that hewas known in their street, because of the number of his shirts, as ToffHicking. That the street held he should get away from the club beforetwo in the morning, for his missus needed him more than the club neededhim. That William replied (very sensibly) that if the club was short ofwaiters at supper-time some of the gentlemen might be kept waiting fortheir marrow-bone. That he sat up with his missus most of the night, andpretended to her that he got some nice long naps at the club. That whatshe talked to him about mostly was the kid. That the kid was in anotherpart of London (in charge of a person called the old woman), becausethere was an epidemic in Irene's street.

  "And what does the doctor say about your mother?"

  "He sometimes says she would have a chance if she could get her kidback."

  "Nonsense."

  "And if she was took to the country."

  "Then why does not William take her?"

  "My! And if she drank porty wine."

  "Doesn't she?"

  "No. But father, he tells her 'bout how the gentlemen drinks it."

  I turned from her with relief, but she came after me.

  "Ain't yer going to do it this time?" she demanded with a falling face."You done it last time. I tell her you done it"--she pointed to herfriend who was looking wistfully at me--"ain't you to let her see youdoing of it?"

  For a moment I thought that her desire was another shilling, but by apiece of pantomime she showed that she wanted me to lift my hat to her.So I lifted it, and when I looked behind she had her head in the air andher neighbour was gazing at her awestruck. These little creatures arereally not without merit.

  About a week afterward I was in a hired landau, holding a newspaperbefore my face lest anyone should see me in company of a waiter and hiswife. William was taking her into Surrey to stay with an old nurse ofmine, and Irene was with us, wearing the most outrageous bonnet.

  I formed a mean opinion of Mrs. Hicking's intelligence from her pride inthe baby, which was a very ordinary one. She created a regrettable scenewhen it was brought to her, because "she had been feared it would notknow her again." I could have told her that they know no one for yearshad I not been in terror of Irene, who dandled the child on her kneesand talked to it all the way. I have never known a bolder little hussythan this Irene. She asked the infant improper questions, such as "Ooknow who gave me this bonnet?" and answered them herself. "It wasthe pretty gentleman there," and several times I had to affect sleep,because she announced, "Kiddy wants to kiss the pretty gentleman."

  Irksome as all this necessarily was to a man of taste, I sufferedstill more acutely when we reached our destination, where disagreeablecircumstances compelled me to drink tea with a waiter's family. Williamknew that I regarded thanks from persons of his class as an outrage, yethe looked them though he dared not speak them. Hardly had he sat downat the table by my orders than he remembered that I was a member of theclub and jumped up. Nothing is in worse form than whispering, yet againand again he whispered to his poor, foolish wife, "How are you now?You don't feel faint?" and when she said she felt like another womanalready, his face charged me with the change. I could not but concludefrom the way she let the baby pound her that she was stronger than shepretended.

  I remained longer than was necessary because I had something to say toWilliam which I feared he would misunderstand, but when he announcedthat it was time for him to catch a train back to London, at which hiswife paled, I delivered the message.

  "William," I said, backing away from him, "the head-waiter asked me tosay that you could take a fortnight's holiday. Your wages will be paidas usual."

  Confound him.

  "William," I cried furiously, "go away."

  Then I saw his wife signing to him, and I knew she wanted to be leftalone with me.

  "William," I cried in a panic, "stay where you are."

  But he was gone, and I was alone with a woman whose eyes were filmy. Herclass are fond of scenes. "If you please, ma'am!" I said imploringly.

  But she kissed my hand; she was like a little dog.

  "It can be only the memory of some woman," said she, "that makes you sokind to me and mine."

  Memory was the word she used, as if all my youth were fled. I suppose Ireally am quite elderly.

  "I should like to know her name, sir," she said, "that I may mention herwith loving respect in my prayers."

  I raised the woman and told her the name. It was not Mary. "But she hasa home," I said, "as you have, and I have none. Perhaps, ma'am, it wouldbe better worth your while to mention me."

  It was this woman, now in health, whom I intrusted with the purchase ofthe outfits, "one for a boy of six months," I explained to her, "and onefor a boy of a year," for the painter had boasted to me of David's rapidgrowth. I think she was a little surprised to find that both outfitswere for the same house; and she certainly betrayed an ignoble curiosityabout the mother's Christian name, but she was much easier to brow-beatthan a fine lady would have been, and I am sure she and her daughterenjoyed themselves hugely in the shops, from one of which I shall neverforget Irene emerging proudly with a commissionaire, who conducted herunder an umbrella to the cab where I was lying in wait. I think that wasthe most celestial walk of Irene's life.

  I told Mrs. Hicking to give the articles a little active ill-treatmentthat they might not look quite new, at which she exclaimed, not being inmy secret, and then to forward them to me. I then sent them to Mary andrejoiced in my devilish cunning all the evening, but chagrin came in themorning with a letter from her which showed she knew all, that I was herMr. Anon, and that there never had been a Timothy. I think I was neverso gravelled. Even now I don't know how she had contrived it.

  Her cleverness raised such a demon in me that I locked away her letterat once and have seldom read it since. No married lady should haveindited such an epistle to a single man. I
t said, with other thingswhich I decline to repeat, that I was her good fairy. As a sample of thedeliberate falsehoods in it, I may mention that she said David loved mealready. She hoped that I would come in often to see her husband, whowas very proud of my friendship, and suggested that I should pay him myfirst visit to-day at three o'clock, an hour at which, as I happened toknow, he is always away giving a painting-lesson. In short, she wantedfirst to meet me alone, so that she might draw the delicious, respectfulromance out of me, and afterward repeat it to him, with sighs and littlepeeps at him over her pocket-handkerchief.

  She had dropped what were meant to look like two tears for me upon thepaper, but I should not wonder though they were only artful drops ofwater.

  I sent her a stiff and tart reply, declining to hold any communicationwith her.