SPANDRILL MAGAZINE - NO. 76.2
Dr and Mrs Murdstone held a successful soiree at Kilgington Hall, Thursday last. The theme of the ball was "Philosophical Concepts".
Many of the guests elicited sighs of admiration from their fellows, such were the heights of creativity displayed. Admiral Binch and Lady Eulalia went as a Socratic Dialogue, and maintained their debate even during the foxtrot, which, for "galloping" Binch, was a first! Miss Hayley Tench cut a severe, metaphysical, figure in the guise of Being Itself, seeming to revel in the very abstraction, nay, mystical ineffability, of such a concept.
Captain Hardpad widened eyes as he entered the ballroom with a Miss Effie Casey. The Captain, with admirable "vim", announced that he had come as Morality. As for his companion, she would utter nothing but hiccoughs and giggles; and, when cornered by Mrs Murdstone and the Twentyman sisters, late in the evening, the Captain would only whisper, hoarsely, "she's come to show that there's more to Heaven and Earth than is dreamt of in your philosophy", and Miss Muriel Twentyman was most severely discomfited by what she could only afterwards describe as a "lurid wink" of his one good eye.
Prizes were distributed by Canon Worsthorne (himself dazzling as Ecclesiastes). First prize of a Jereboam of Champagne was awarded to young Arabella Wentworth, who had come as the question "Why?". Second (a fine pewter Toby Jug) went to Mr Teazle, for his "performance" as a Sceptic (though it has to be said that many of the ladies were severely taxed by his "sceptical enquiries", which, as Mrs Trasker later averred, perhaps owed more to the old sherry than to a spirit of genuine philosophical enquiry); he accepted the award with an air of calm dignity, though he had to be ushered from the dais by Reverend Tutty when he attempted what he termed "my sceptical discourse upon the lady of the house". And finally, the third prize of three Chinoise egg-coolers in a set, was presented to local poetess Miss Frances Baffle, luminescent as "Platonic Idealism", who immediately entertained all with a fittingly-sublime rendition of a specially-crafted verse entitled "Meeting of Minds". This was well-received. Regrettably however, amid polite applause, the hoarse voice of Captain Hardpad could be heard at the back calling out "Bravo my dear! Know any hunting songs?" to the accompaniment of shrill laughter and hiccoughs from Miss Casey .
An air of indignation gathered for a moment at these coarse intrusions, but was immediately dispelled by the sound of Mr Teazle and the unfortunate Reverend Tutty falling into the band. Heads turned to discover the Reverend sitting upon the chest of Mr Teazle, while the latter's legs waved helplessly in the air, his torso having disappeared into a large drum. The Captain's raucous cry of "Talk about being up to one's ears in music!" and Miss Casey's whinnying snicker, broken only by a series of hiccoughs, were surely a cruel comment upon the distressing and undignified scene that was presented to the mortified company.
It is to the Reverend's eternal credit that he would only afterwards speak of the "opportunity for humble reflections" afforded by the accident. The proceedings drew to a close soon after, and the guests left the Hall after a memorable evening.
However, at dawn, the gardener's boy discovered Mr Teazle, clutching his Toby Jug, asleep in a wheelbarrow in the cucumber sheds. Thankfully, at that hour, few were witness to the sight of Joshua Tranter, the gardener, wheeling the slumbering Mr Teazle across the drive, as the dew glistened silvery upon the great lawns and the sun rose like a giant blood-orange in the amber sky. All that could be heard above the nets of birdsong were the creaking of the wheelbarrow, the wheezing of old Tranter, the crunching of the chippings on the drive, and the snores of the insensible self-styled "Sceptical Questioner" of a few hours earlier.