The Tale of the Exploding salad - A Curious Victorian Incident
It was, of course, a splendid way to take lunch. We sat under profuse greenery of the rubber trees and the chitter-chatter of the monkeys which arrayed them- cheeky grey marmosets for the most part, but also some quainter varieties of primates I'd never before seen. At any moment you would have expected a stream of tropical birds come gliding across the roof . Needless to say, they didn't, but so real was the effect of this bright little world Dr Stanley had created, it seemed like anything was possible.
There was the usual party - Murdoch and Kashinksy - of that law firms' namesake. Then there was James Littleworth with his diminutive wife Emily, Samuel Wyler the inventor and his fiancee Susan. And lastly ,to represent the landed gentry, Sir Peter Snodgrass. I must add to this the new arrival Jack Sykes, the American Oil Barron, who had brought his fashionable American wife, Irene. I would prefer to avoid any mention of myself, but since you're curious, I Martin Dimitrovejk, long time servant and friend of this garden's owner sat there too.
"Well, might I suggest we take a walk around the arboretum after tea?" Inquired Dr Stanley, his bright red face and his yellow checkered coat showing him to be a man of vastly eccentric character. But just before anyone was able to answer, Dr Stanley there came a sudden interjection:
"I say, Doctor, would it be possible to shut off those great big copper fans?" came the voice of Mr Sykes in a deaperate Texan drawl. It was accompanied with a sycophantic chuckle, but his face returned to its firm and serious shape just as quickly. "The heat's gotten me and my wife nauseous and I do believe I've lost my appetite! "
The rest of us were coping perfectly fine however. The copper fans whirring in the background blew a steady gush of tropical heat over us all. There was nothing too alarming about it. In fact, I would venture to call it quite exhilarating. It smelled faintly of vanilla and something else which was exotic but which I could not quite make place my finger on.
"Now you know well enough Jack." returned Dr Stanley with a partly gracious, partly immoveable tone that was always impressive to me - "the fans are the very things keeping the place alive! Were I to shut them off this place would very quickly die,,, fall apart, you know?" The Texan maverick disputed no more, and Dr Stanley very quickly averted his gaze to something moving in at the entrance. It was the tea trolley. Indeed. Because at that moment that high tea was being wheeled into the arboretum, and this being the rarest of occasions, the protester decided to hold his peace for another half hour.
How Dr Stanley had managed to build this arboretum in the middle of the Devonshire countryside had been a source of puzzlement, even to the leading scientists of the time.
There was the usual party - Murdoch and Kashinksy - of that law firms' namesake. Then there was James Littleworth with his diminutive wife Emily, Samuel Wyler the inventor and his fiancee Susan. And lastly ,to represent the landed gentry, Sir Peter Snodgrass. I must add to this the new arrival Jack Sykes, the American Oil Barron, who had brought his fashionable American wife, Irene. I would prefer to avoid any mention of myself, but since you're curious, I Martin Dimitrovejk, long time servant and friend of this garden's owner sat there too.
"Well, might I suggest we take a walk around the arboretum after tea?" Inquired Dr Stanley, his bright red face and his yellow checkered coat showing him to be a man of vastly eccentric character. But just before anyone was able to answer, Dr Stanley there came a sudden interjection:
"I say, Doctor, would it be possible to shut off those great big copper fans?" came the voice of Mr Sykes in a deaperate Texan drawl. It was accompanied with a sycophantic chuckle, but his face returned to its firm and serious shape just as quickly. "The heat's gotten me and my wife nauseous and I do believe I've lost my appetite! "
The rest of us were coping perfectly fine however. The copper fans whirring in the background blew a steady gush of tropical heat over us all. There was nothing too alarming about it. In fact, I would venture to call it quite exhilarating. It smelled faintly of vanilla and something else which was exotic but which I could not quite make place my finger on.
"Now you know well enough Jack." returned Dr Stanley with a partly gracious, partly immoveable tone that was always impressive to me - "the fans are the very things keeping the place alive! Were I to shut them off this place would very quickly die,,, fall apart, you know?" The Texan maverick disputed no more, and Dr Stanley very quickly averted his gaze to something moving in at the entrance. It was the tea trolley. Indeed. Because at that moment that high tea was being wheeled into the arboretum, and this being the rarest of occasions, the protester decided to hold his peace for another half hour.
How Dr Stanley had managed to build this arboretum in the middle of the Devonshire countryside had been a source of puzzlement, even to the leading scientists of the time.
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