keep on telling you that some soap or other is the best, and after a bit you come under the influence and charge round the corner and buy a cake?” “Exactly, sir. The same method was the basis of all the most valuable propaganda during the recent war. I see no reason why it should not be adopted to bring about the desired result with regard to the subject’s views on class distinctions. If young Mr. Little were to read day after day to his uncle a series of narratives in which marriage with young persons of an inferior social status was held up as both feasible and admirable, I fancy it would prepare the elder Mr. Little’s mind for the reception of the information that his nephew wishes to marry a waitress in a tea-shop.” “Are there any books of that sort nowadays? The only ones I ever see mentioned in the papers are about married couples who find life grey, and can’t stick each other at any price.” “Yes, sir, there are a great many, neglected by the reviewers but widely read. You have never encountered ‘All for Love,’ by Rosie M. Banks?” “No.” “Nor ‘A Red, Red Summer Rose,’ by the same author?” “No.” “I have an aunt, sir, who owns an almost complete set of Rosie M. Banks’. I could easily borrow as many volumes as young Mr. Little might require. They make very light, attractive reading.” “Well, it’s worth trying.” “I should certainly recommend the scheme, sir.” “All right, then. Toddle round to your aunt’s to-morrow and grab a couple of the fruitiest. We can but have a dash at it.” “Precisely, sir.” CHAPTER II NO WEDDING BELLS FOR BINGO NO WEDDING BELLS FOR BINGO Bingo reported three days later that Rosie M. Banks was the goods and beyond a question the stuff to give the troops. Old Little had jibbed somewhat at first at the proposed change of literary diet, he not being much of a lad for fiction and having stuck hitherto exclusively to the heavier monthly reviews; but Bingo had got chapter one of “All for Love” past his guard before he knew what was happening, and after that
Prev.
Back
Top