Michael s last night in the nursery.
They go on with their recollections.
It was then that I rushed in like a tornado, wasn t it? Mr. Darling
would say, scorning himself; and indeed he had been like a tornado.
Perhaps there was some excuse for him. He, too, had been dressing for
the party, and all had gone well with him until he came to his tie. It
is an astounding thing to have to tell, but this man, though he knew
about stocks and shares, had no real mastery of his tie. Sometimes the
thing yielded to him without a contest, but there were occasions when
it would have been better for the house if he had swallowed his pride
and used a made-up tie.
This was such an occasion. He came rushing into the nursery with the
crumpled little brute of a tie in his hand.
Why, what is the matter, father dear?
Matter! he yelled; he really yelled. This tie, it will not tie. He
became dangerously sarcastic. Not round my neck! Round the bed-post!
Oh yes, twenty times have I made it up round the bed-post, but round my
neck, no! Oh dear no! begs to be excused!
He thought Mrs. Darling was not sufficiently impressed, and he went on
sternly, I warn you of this, mother, that unless this tie is round my
neck we don t go out to dinner to-night, and if I don t go out to
dinner to-night, I never go to the office again, and if I don t go to
the office again, you and I starve, and our children will be flung into
the streets.
Even then Mrs. Darling was placid. Let me try, dear, she said, and
indeed that was what he had come to ask her to do, and with her nice
cool hands she tied his tie for him, while the children stood around to
see their fate decided. Some men would have resented her being able to
do it so easily, but Mr. Darling had far too fine a nature for that; he
thanked her carelessly, at once forgot his rage, and in another moment
was dancing round the room with Michael on his back.
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