Guest Post by Sir Frederick Chook: Conversations Held From Top-Floor Windows, Part One

Conversations Held From Top-Floor Windows, Part One, By Sir Frederick Chook

Penned upon the 6th of March, 2013

First appeared in FrillyShirt (www.frillyshirt.org).

 

First Swell: I say! Noodle, is that you?

Second Swell: Eh, what? Puffin, my dear fellow, is that you up there?

First: Yes! I’m sorry, I can’t come down – I’m in a deal of bother!

Second: Y’don’t say – anything I can help you with?

First: Well, I was hoping you’d offer – y’see, we’ve just had a chap in to install the new telephone-

Second: Oh, very smart!

First: Yes, I was keen on it, and so was Millie. But the chap’s been and gone, and I can’t find where he’s put the bally thing!

Second: You’ve lost your new ‘phone? That’s a deuce of a problem, old horse. What can I do?

First: Well, I thought if you stuck your head into the post office on the corner, and asked them to put a call through to my place, I might be able to locate it by the sound of the ringing bell.

Second: Damn good idea. Alright, Puffin, stay put, I shan’t be a jiff. (A little over a jiff passes.) Alright, they’re putting the call through now! Can you hear it?

First: I can definitely hear something… it seems to be coming from downstairs. (Head disappears; reappears at a middle-floor window.) The ringing seems to be coming from the butler’s pantry.

Second: Ah, so you’ve found it, then – excellent!

First: Only problem is, I’m not quite sure how to get into the butler’s pantry – I’ve only ever glimpsed it through the serving-hatch when he’s got me a sandwich at night. There are an awful lot of doors… I think I’m going to have to try climbing down the dumbwaiter.

Second: Is that entirely wise, old sausage?

First: I fear not, but it’s the only plan I’ve got. If you don’t hear from me within a quarter of an hour, er…
Second: Shall I call for Millie?

First: Heavens, no; if she found me in the dumbwaiter, she’d probably eat me. You stand watch, and if you don’t hear from me… you use your discretion and better judgement!

Second: Right-ho; best of luck and all that. …Puffin? Are you still there? Can you hear me? …I think what I ought to do is run and ring up the fire department. That all right? Tell you what, I’ll go do that, and if you’re fine and don’t need help… give me a call.

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Sir Frederick Chook is a foppish, transcendentalistic historian who lives variously by his wits, hand to mouth, la vie bohème, and in Melbourne with his wife, Lady Tanah Merah.

When not reading Milton and eating Stilton, he writes, ponders, models, delves into dusty archives, and gads about town. He has dabbled in student radio and in national politics, and is presently studying the ways of the shirt-sleeved archivist. He is a longhair, aspiring to one day be a greybeard. He has, once or twice, been described as “as mad as a bicycle.”

FrillyShirt is a compilation of articles, essays, reviews, photographs, artworks, question-and-answers, promotions, travelogues, diatribes, spirit journeys, cartoons, ululations and celebrations by Sir Frederick, his friends and contributing readers. Irregularly regular features include Teacup in a Storm, an etiquette column, and How to be Lovely, advanced speculations on the aesthetics of the self.

Other topics that pop up include fun things in and around Melbourne, art, nature, history, politics and schnauzers. Sir Frederick’s favorite color is all of them. Enjoy his writing? Drop him a telegram at fredchook@frillyshirt.org.