Mulliner Nights
“It was broken by a Whisky and Splash.
‘I’ve been thinking a lot,’ said the Whisky and Splash, addressing Mr Mulliner, ‘about that cat of yours, that Webster.’ ‘Has Mr Mulliner got a cat named Webster?’ asked a Small Port who had just rejoined our little circle after an absence of some days.
The Sage of the bar-parlour shook his head smilingly. ‘Webster,’ he said, ‘did not belong to me. He was the property of the Dean of Bolsover who, on being raised to a bishopric and sailing from England to ta...ke up his episcopal duties at his See of Bongo-Bongo in West Africa, left the animal in the care of his nephew, my cousin Edward’s son Lancelot, the artist. I was telling these gentlemen the other evening how Webster for a time completely revolutionized Lancelot’s life.
His early up-bringing at the Deanery had made him austere and censorious, and he exerted on my cousin’s son the full force of a powerful and bigoted personality. It was as if Savonarola or some minor prophet had suddenly been introduced into the carefree, Bohemian atmosphere of the studio.’ ‘He stared at Lancelot and unnerved him,’ explained a Pint of Bitter.MoreLess
‘I’ve been thinking a lot,’ said the Whisky and Splash, addressing Mr Mulliner, ‘about that cat of yours, that Webster.’ ‘Has Mr Mulliner got a cat named Webster?’ asked a Small Port who had just rejoined our little circle after an absence of some days.
The Sage of the bar-parlour shook his head smilingly. ‘Webster,’ he said, ‘did not belong to me. He was the property of the Dean of Bolsover who, on being raised to a bishopric and sailing from England to ta...ke up his episcopal duties at his See of Bongo-Bongo in West Africa, left the animal in the care of his nephew, my cousin Edward’s son Lancelot, the artist. I was telling these gentlemen the other evening how Webster for a time completely revolutionized Lancelot’s life.
His early up-bringing at the Deanery had made him austere and censorious, and he exerted on my cousin’s son the full force of a powerful and bigoted personality. It was as if Savonarola or some minor prophet had suddenly been introduced into the carefree, Bohemian atmosphere of the studio.’ ‘He stared at Lancelot and unnerved him,’ explained a Pint of Bitter.MoreLess
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