He took up the stick again and Mrs. Grummit did her best, but the heart had gone out of the thing, and he was about to give up the task as hopeless when the door below was heard to open with a bang.
“Here he is,” cried the jubilant Grummit. “Now!”
His wife responded, and at the same moment the bedroom door was flung open, and her brother, who had been hastily fetched by the neighbours on the other side, burst into the room and with one hearty blow sent Mr. Grummit sprawling.
“Hit my sister, will you?” he roared, as the astounded Mr. Grummit rose. “Take that!”
Mr. Grummit took it, and several other favours, while his wife, tugging at her brother, endeavoured to explain. It was not, however, until Mr. Grummit claimed the usual sanctuary of the defeated by refusing to rise that she could make herself heard.
“Joke?” repeated her brother, incredulously. “Joke?”
Mrs. Grummit in a husky voice explained.
Her brother passed from incredulity to amazement and from amazement to mirth. He sat down gurgling, and the indignant face of the injured Grummit only added to his distress.
“Best joke I ever heard in my life,” he said, wiping his eyes. “Don't look at me like that, Bob; I can't bear it.”
“Get off 'ome,” responded Mr. Grummit, glowering at him.