“Oh, my word! Mr. Temperance, what are you doing, sir?”
“I’m holding you close, tilting my head, and leaning in for a...”
“Mmm.”
“Huhhh!”
“Mmmmm.”
“Huhhh, Mr. Temperance!”
“Mmmm.”
“Mmmm.”
“Mmmmmm!”
“Mmmmmm!”
“Mmm-Oh! Mr. Temperance! Hands, sir, hands! Behave yourself! Where are your manners?”
“Love don’t need no manners, Ma’am, love just does what comes natural. You just relax and let nature take over.”
“I beg your pardon?! That is quite enough, sir. Step back: I shall see you again tomorrow.”
“Ahh, don’t be like that, Ma’am. Let’s go back and start over again with some more of that smoochy-smooching. I’ll be good, I pro...”
~Slam!~
~click.~
My word, what has gotten into that man? I have never known Mr. Temperance to act in such a forward manner. Could his behaviour tonight be attributed to...
~latch.~
“Mr. Temperance, stop right there! You are quite out of line by using the intermediary door between our rooms! You turn right around and march straight back to your room, sir, this instant!”
“There ain’t no need to be hasty there, darlin’. Just you settle down and take it easy. I just want to have a nightcap with you, Persephone.”
“Oh, I see, so now it’s a ‘nightcap’, eh? When, sir, did you begin this extraordinary evening habit?”
“Well, I ain’t done it too much before, but I reckon now is as good as any to get started. What do you say, Persephone? Maybe a shot or two of some pricey hooch will help us to pass an enjoyable evening together, what do you say?”
~Punch!~
“Ow!”
“I shall assist you through the door!”
“Whoa!”
~Slam!~
~latch.~
~click.~
“Ow! Miss Plumtartt! You punched me in the nose! I think I’m bleeding! Let me back in! I thought that was what rou, … what rou, ... rou raunted.... rrr... rrrr... Bleh-Rargh!”
“Mr. Temperance!”
“Bleh-Rargh!”
~Pur-Crasssssshhhhhhh!~
~click.~
“Oh, dear, Mr. Temperance has fled through the window!”
* * *
“...Bup, bup, bup. Splendid idea you had, Geoffrey old boy, visiting this Belgian All Lady Revue. Why, there must be thirty young girls prancing about that stage.”
“Hough, hough, yes, Chauncey, and they are all quite pretty, too, eh?”
“Bup, bup, bup, just so, old bean. Have you noticed that they occasionally, and purposely mind you, expose their pantaloons in a playful and scandalous manner, eh hem?”
“I had, dear fellow, for it is a spectacle from which it is difficult to turn.”
“Deucedly difficult.”
“Hough, hough, all this over-exposure is done in a simultaneous performance. The girls tantalize us by alternating the direction of their flashing undergarments. By Jove, I know those girls are exposing their frilly unmentionables while turned away. Blast it, why don’t they ever flash us, the audience?”
“Bup, bup, bup. Their intention is to build anticipation for a climactic finish, old boy. Quite enjoyable to see how they play with their dress hems in time with the spirited music, eh what?”
“Hough, hough. Quite enjoyable. Burbity.”
Lahhh!
Lah-di-dah-di!
Dah! Dah!
Lah-di-dah-di!
Dah! Dah!
Lah-di-dah-di!
Dah!
Bah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah!
Lahhh!
Lah-di-dah-di!
Dah! Dah!
Lah-di-dah-di!
Dah! Dah!
Lah-di-dah-di!
Dah!
Bah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah!
“Hello, what’s this? They have all linked their bare arms across one another's shoulders. I see, working as a united team, they hold together in a single line. Supporting each other they perform their high kicks with great spirit! Bup, bup, bup.”
“Jolly good, eh? They turn at a forty five degree angle, and first lift the knee they intend to kick with, then, with a bounce off the stage planks, they kick impossibly high into the air. They then immediately turn to the opposing direction to repeat the procedure. I say, this is an admirable sight.”
“Hello, what’s this? Another element has been added. It’s a monkey in a suit. It has wandered onto the stage from the wings. The strange creature appears bewildered by the lights, music, and the many pretty girls.”
“I see, the thing is part of a comedy act. The first girl in line has kicked the animal in the seat of the pants. The enraged beast turns upon her only to be accosted by the next girl in line in the same manner. One after another, the girls deal the beast kicks all the way across the stage! Hough, hough! Jolly good! Bup, bup, bup! Lahhh, kick him in the can, can; kick him in the can, can; kick him in the lah-di-dah-di, dah-di, dah-di; lahhh. Bup, bup, bup, bup. Bup! Bup! Bup, bup, bup, bup. Bup! Bup! Bup, bup, bup, bup. Burbity bup, bup, bup, bup! Lahhh...”
“The chimpanzee is confused and does not know how to exit the performance. The director is coming on stage with a broom. The perplexed animal has run away as the stage manager chases after in mock exasperation!”
The Greater London Cosmopolitan:
“London Caught
By Wave of Fear!”
By Dipsy Jigglemire.
Dateline! London! Fearful women hurry along with their shopping and worried men fail to dawdle as is their normal custom. A veil of fear has descended over the world’s greatest city. Somewhere, evil lurks. The streets run with the blood of Dr. Ickle’s innocent victims. An angry police force is powerless to stop this supernatural phantom. Scotland yard vows to bring this reign of terror to a stop. Sterling and capable, Detective Nichodimus Cobblechunk leads the investigation to apprehend, and/or exterminate this urban blight.”
[From the diary of Mr. Ichabod Temperance:]
deer diurry.
i like lundun.
it is fun.
ther r lots of peeple. Thay r reel nise.
i am bizzy. bizzy! bizzy! bizzy!
i ben tird. dont reemember nothin passed bed time.
no moor deezine. Bild, bild, bild. Them torpeeders r compleekated but I still bilt my sute foor deetektiv Nik.
i donte lik beeng spie.
miss plumtartt is werrieed but i theenk evreethang wil bee okee dokee.
~ * * * ~
“Hey, you newslads, Bobbie, Louie, and Steven’s son, bring a round of papers over to our table.”
“Right, Detective Cobblechunk!”
“Ha, ha! There’s a nice tip in it, if you lads can sing that little monster ditty that’s been sweeping through the streets.”
“Anything for you, Miss Jigglemire!”
Buh, dumpty, dumpty,
dumpity-doo.
Buh, dubbity, dubbity,
Boopity-boo.
His victims’ blood,
paints the streets red.
No one is safe,
‘Cept those that fled.
Stay in your home.
Don’t get out of bed.
Close your eyes,
pull the covers over head.
“Uh, hunh, uh, hunh! That was good, weren’t it, y’all? Uh hunh, uh, hunh!”
“Oh, dear.”
Grimacing in anger,
dripping with blood,
Baring his fangers,
he shares his crud.
London’s in peril,
smell Ickle’s breath.
London has gone feral,
There lies your death.
“Ha, ha! Splendid, lads! Is there more?”
“Oh, yes, missus, these things always come in threes.”
His eyes are aglow,
His claws don’t tickle.<
br />
Attacking high and low,
his tastes aren’t fickle.
Mortal gloom doth grow.
The fogs hide his sickle,
And all live in fear,
of the dread Dr. Ickle.
“Ha, ha! Bravo, lads! Well done! I can’t wait to see what tomorrow’s papers bring, eh Nichodimus?”
“Actually, Dipsy, I am prepared to make great strides in the case at this very moment.”
“Are you getting close to catching your man, Detective?”
“Oh, I’m close to catching my man all right.”
“Oh, dear.”
“Ha, ha! Hooray for Nichodimus!”
“It’s a tricky thing, being a copper, Dipsy. You see all sorts of people. Sometimes people show you one side, while they keep the other side hidden.”
“What are you saying, Big Nick?”
“I’m saying, Dipsy, that sometimes a villain can be hiding among you, and you might not even recognize him. It might be someone that you thought you knew well, but turns out to be a heel, in the end.”
“Gosh!”
“Oh, dear.”
“Ha, ha! Nichodimus! Are you saying that there could be a terrible villain sitting right here at this table of close friends, and his fellows not be the wiser?”
“That’s right, Dipsy.”
“Gee!”
“Oh, dear.”
“Ha, ha! Oh, but Nichodimus, surely you don’t mean...”
“I do so mean, Dipsy! I maintain that there are two very different sort of men present at this table. One man is a hero, and the other is the basest villain!”
“Oh my Goodness, what are you saying sir?”
“I’m saying that I have the man I seek right, here!”
“Hien! Hien! Hien! Oh, your grip is hurting me! Oh my Goodness, Detective Cobblechunk, I ain’t done nothing, honest! I’m a good boy, I promise!”
“Ha, ha! Nichodimus! Are you saying that little Icky is the terrible fiend for which we search?”
“No, Dipsy, I’m saying that I am! This lad is the true hero. I see that he has the suit he promised to build for me. This boy’s genius is what has given me the means to go forth and destroy this monster. I was too quick to accept all the accolades for myself. No, we enjoyed a great good fortune when we met this simple chap. It was a moment of serendipity that we should happen to sit next to one another at breakfast and develop this friendship. This is what led to Ichabod building the leaping suit. I feel absolutely terrible for wanting to hog all the glory, after you have contributed so much. Tell me, Temperance, can you ever forgive me?”
“Gee, whiz, I mean, aw, shucks, I’m just glad I was able to help, Detective Cobblechunk, sir! Getting to be a service to y’all is its own reward.”
“No, Ichabod, that is not enough. I want this city to know how much we owe you. Dipsy, do you think you could help see to it that Ichabod gets the recognition he so richly deserves?”
“Ha, ha! Don’t worry, Nichodimus, you just leave it to Dipsy Jigglemire.”
“Gee!”
“Oh, dear.”
The Charing Cross Daily Chronicler:
Scotland Yard Boasts of
New Super Weapon to
Combat Dr. Ickle!
Scotland Yard is proud to announce that she is now deploying a remarkable new tool for combative confrontation with our terrible foe, the insidious Dr. Ickle. A supernatural opponent assails our fair city, therefore a suit granting super-powers to her wearer is in order to beat back this threat. To match the skills of our foe, Detective Nichodimus Cobblechunk will employ an uncanny suit that delivers remarkable leaping abilities, directional wings, fiery breath, raking claws and evening visibility capabilities. The inventor of the remarkable contraption? A gifted engineer from the United States. Though an unassuming little chap, he does manage to produce some remarkable creations. It is to this shy young man, this country owes her thanks. It is as if Providence Herself has delivered this city a saviour. Thank you, Lord, for bringing us Ichabod Temperance in our time of need. We as a grateful nation, hug him to our collective bosom and softly murmur in his sweet ear: Hush sweet boy, you may rest easy. You have done your part to help us. England will soon be past her danger.
The Rotherhithe Review:
The Hero of London!
Ichabod Temperance!
Leader of the United States of America, President Samuel Clemens, proclaims Ichabod Temperance a national hero and treasure. “Ah knows that boy, Ah says Ah knows that boy personally. Ah declare, Ah say, Ah declare that though that boy is but a sad little muffin, nevertheless, I know him to be an exemplary example of our great nation’s giving and loving spirit. We congratulate our English cousins at their good fortune in the sharing of his great intellectual prowess.
The Buckingham Rebuke:
Queen Victoria Hails
Alabama Hero!
Her Royal Majesty, Queen Victoria, has proclaimed Ichabod Temperance an honourary citizen of the British Empire. Moreover, as soon as we apprehend or slay this wretched beast, the terrible fiend, Jackie the Spring-Heeled Stripper, the intention is to Knight this great man! Godspeed, Ichabod Temperance, we look forward to being able to address you as Sir Ichabod Temperance.
Variosity:
Stix hix icks clix vic’s pix
Lend an ear, my London Lemmings, and let me share the down low on all that is swell to tell, and just a little bit more. Have the residents of the royal rooms been indiscreet? You, dear reader, may decide for yourself. Our confidential informants tell us here at Variosity, that one particular American tinker, and one grandiose monarch are planning to have their photograph taken with one another. Between us, cats and kittens, one thinks that the royals might be slumming a bit, but that’s for you to decide, my judgmental readerships. Now you go to judging, and I’ll just go on dishing up the latest, most salacious and scintillating scandals as they arise. Keep it on the down-low, but remember, Dear Hearts, you heard it here, first.
Ciao, babies.
The Greater Britannic Engulfment:
All of Britain
Celebrates her
treasured guest.
Parades and other festivities are already being planned in preparation of Dr. Ickle’s apprehension. Scotland Yard has expressed an unconditional confidence in her newest crime fighting weaponry. The spring-leaping, wing-guided, fire-breathing, claw-enhanced suit was built by visiting American tinker, Ichabod Temperance.
Developing in an organic manner, one might say, a holiday is already being prepared for initiation. In an eerie manner, it is almost as if the name rose up from out of our streets’ cobblestones. When the villain is caught, by general proclamation, it has been decided to refer to that happy occasion as ‘Ichabod Temperance Day’.
Chapter Five.
Land Ho!
I say, I shall have to conclude my investigations in the next few minutes, or I shall be tardy in my appointment with Mr. Temperance. I want to be there to meet him when he is scheduled to conclude his work on Cheapside. I am determined to pry a word into Professor Diddlefudde’s unending verbal barrage, even if it requires a crowbar.
I have investigated every pier, or quay’s workplace along Southbank capable of building a craft in secret. The vessel’s hidden construction must be along the North bank of the Thames. An abundance of shipyards, drydocks, and buildings with a deep water approach lie there. The murky depths would prove ideal for their covert needs.
Member of Parliament Whistlethorpe’s secretary, Smiling Johnny, promised support but it is yet to materialize. I harbour suspicions concerning Mr. Goldbuckets. I don’t want to pull Mr. Temperance from his assigned duties, but I am severely lacking in support staff. Perhaps Schtupsy could help out in that regard. I don’t have time to get to Westminster and still rendezvous with Mr. Temperance. I worry that some mischief may occur if I am not there to prevent it.
Oh, bother, I do not wish to allow this problem to fester overnight. It will take time for Schtupsy to
redirect his resources. Besides that, he is drowning in the operational details of Lord Dashwoodey’s funeral arrangements. Since his assassination last night, I am sure that Schtupsy is overwhelmed with seeing to Lord Dashwoodey’s affairs. I know, I will use one of those new communication contraptions. I shall need to find the nearest Greater Britannica Telegraph & Instantaneous Speech Transmission, office. Ah, here we are; one is directly at hand:
~ding-aling-aling!~
“Good afternoon, Miss, may I help you?”
“I wish to engage a voice-a-gram, please.”
“Not a tele-grammical?”
“No, I desire a direct line of communication and wish to avail myself the convenience of instantaneous speech transmission.”
“Right, now then, first, in order to save you money, I encourage you to join our all-encompassing family telecommunication plan. You’ll save a fortune in the long run.”
“One is in a hurry and wishes to immediately enjoin an instantaneous speech transversion connection.”
“But if you act now, the savings will be enormous! You can’t afford not to buy this plan! It pays for itself! A great number of mathematical algorithms concur that the average customer will save enough in the first year’s membership to offset any minor over-use penalties or charges by way of the following legally obligated years of this binding contract.”
“I should like to impress upon you the meaning of the word, ‘immediately.”
“But if you act now, you will be eligible for an in-home tele-version receiver console!”
“How droll. I wish for my instantaneous voice transmission service this instant.”
“Right you are, eh, where might I direct your call?”
“Westminster Palace.”
“Eep! I beg your pardon. Eep. Yes, let’s see, I’m placing that call now.”
“Ahoy there, am I in communication with Westminster Palace? .... I am! … The switchboard, you say? ... Fascinating! I say, could you facilitate a connection with Lord Dashwoodey’s office, please? … Yes, I know Lord Dashwoodey has been assassinated... I agree … most tragic, yes, …. No, you see, I wish to speak with his personal secretary, Redruth Schtuppe. Thank you, I shall cling to the connection. … Ahoy there, … Thank you, yes, it’s eh, good to be aboard your receiver. I say, could you please put me through to Personal Secretary Schtuppe? Tell him it’s Persephone Plumtartt. ... What’s that? He left the office early, you say? ... If you don’t mind, who was he meeting, please? … Mr. Hyde? Thank you, and, did he say where he was meeting? … At Hyde Park? … Thank you, so much; toodle-loo.”
The Two Faces of Temperance Page 8