bodis riper 2.8

the bodis riper
part 2
by the inner child hoo at last is at the compewter today my outer adult was sad about never seeing her freinds bakk hoam and i sed 'cheer up outer adult i kno the perfekt cewr!' 'oh yes?' she sed and 'and wat is that pray tell?' 'inventing imajinarie freinds' i sed and so hear we ar.

chapter 2.7 heer

chapter 2.8

'oho' sed nikk speering a pork sossige on the end of his nyf 'i hoap that meens your increesing my alowans'.

'that my deer son' sed his sire wiping his fase on a napkin 'deepends entyrelie on you'.

feeling that for once he had got the beter of his son sir david got up throo down his napkin and sauntered into his billyards room for a smoak.

robbed of his audiens sir nikk seemed to shrink. he frowned at his sossige and with a deft flik of his nyf fyred it at a staffordshyr shepherdess on the chimnipees over the hearth. it missed her by a wisker.

'zounds!' sed sir nikk but not unpleased and he went upstayrs to chanj into his dryving habbit.

altho not reelly himself a top sawyer or capital whip yung sir nikkolas konsidered himself at leest a fyn juje of hors-flesh and a credibul dryver. he had a pair of mached bays known for thier stamina speed and hy-stepping akshun and a dashing hy-perch phaeton besyds. he cud often be seen dryving this abowt hyd park durring the more unfashunabul howrs wen he cud better syz up huosemayds on their day off and the fatter of the lite-o-luvs withowt attrakting the notis of the ton.

as he was obveeously a man of stile as well as bewtie sir nikk cawsed many a servile or rentable hart to beet overfast. and as he prefered lo companie to hi he manetaned the charm of misterie among the laydies of his own stayshun. if it were not for his rakish grinn the gossips of almacks wud hav labbeled him a veritubel misogynist. but he did hav a rakish grin and a fyn set of shulders wich he kept in fyn form throo boxing and also blond hair and a chiselled visage and so no repewtayshun for misogynie did he get. inded those of his set hoo wer the brothers of plump sisters wer throne into much anksietie as how to warn there wumminfowk aganst him withowt cawsing offens.

clad in his dryving coat he sent word to the stabul to bring his horses to the front door and went in serch of his father. he found him in his librarie comforablie ensconsed in his chare clad in a soft cap and reeding ovid.

'deer me" draweled nikk slapping his yellow glovs against his palm. "this will never do. consider my disgrase at being seen in hyde park with an elderlie man so attyred".

"damme if you arent the most impertinent baggaj i ever had the misforchewn to syr" sed sir david "things hav come to a pretty pass if you of all peepel need yore father to help you in yore wooing".

"normallie no" sed nikk "but things hav come to a pretty pass indeed if polyt sosietie has rooled that i can foist my atenshuns on a gentlie brot up mayden withowt an introdukshun. i doant even kno wat the chit looks lyk".

"very well" sed his father and gav up his book with a sih.

half and hour layter father and son wer on ther way under a cleer bloo sky to hyd park. 350 acers of green lawns graiceful trees now fullie in bud meandering paths and the serpentyn river spread out from the western end of piccadillie. laydies dressed either in full english skirts or in daring french greek styles walked with parasols with freinds or pade companyons. yung buks oggled the former and okkashionally sot to distrakt the latter. riders and dryvers trotted down rotten row in the best riding or dryving cloaths monie cud by. it was all very impressiv you wud never imagin that in 215 yeers the plase wud be pakked with arab ladies in blak-sakk burkas with it-bags and crystal mobyl fones. o tempura o mores.

anyway sir nikks mached bays proudlie joined the horses on rotten row and sir david looked eagerlie at every femayl fays they passed hoaping to find the sparkling bloo eyes and grashus cowntenans of laydy proodens pewsie. he was in lukk. as they overtook a smart barouche he saw the cowntess of grunstane rubicund in a scarlett gown and hat besyd her slender bloo-gowned bloo-bonnetted doter. he grabbed his sons arm.

"pull up!" he cryed "pull up! it is she! laydie proodens!"

nikk looked behind him and gave a low wistel. he slowed his horses to a snails pace.

'muothwatering!' he sed. 'i kollect i must give cousin hewbert some credit for tasyt. now that is a skrumptshus little morsel indeed. she looks lyk the most delisious raspberrie that ever fownd its way onto a custard pie. but shurelie she kant be 16. you must be blynd. 35 if shes a day and i shud kno. not that im komplayning. yummy yum yum!"

"not the cowntess you dolt" cryed sir david "her doter. the one in the bloo gown."

the brite happy look on nikks fase disappeered with komikal speed.

'hoo on earth can you meen? o my god not that littel girl!"

'damme dont blasfeem in hyd park' sed his father 'yes the littel girl and she is not so littel. girls yunger than she are happie mothers mayd'.

'if you start qwoting shakespeer i am off' sed nikk 'O-F-F. oh woe is me you wud at leest think the doter of such a dimond wudnt be so thin'.

'laydies!' cried sir david standing up and doffing his hat. 'your servant. laydie grunstane yore drivving skills mayk you a veritabul diana. ah laydie proodens you will kast all our london-bred young laydies in the shayd'.

'are you the one with the son away in india?' asked proodens and jumped as unseen her fond mama pinched her vishuslie 'oo! i meen how do you do?'

'sir david' sed the cowntess for hoos well-trayned mynd the memorizashun of the nayms of the ton was as childs play. 'how luvely to see you so soon after our littel soiree'.

'littel!' cryed sir david again and sir nikk considering his father to be overdooing it suppressed a wins 'damme the ball of the seeson laydie grunestane the ball of the seeson. i doant kno when i hav enjoyed myself mor--wat a shaym my poor son was unabel to come'.

'oh' sed proodens regarding the yung man upon the fond paternal glans rested. 'wy not? oo! i meen it was a shaym certainlie'.

'you are too kynd' sed sir nikk dragging his eies from proodens mamas boosum to proodens herself. he displayed his raykish grin and both laydies were immediatelie taken in by it.

'allow me to introdoos my son sir nikkolas cameron' sed sir david 'nik this is the cowntess of grunstane and her doter laydie proodens pewsie'.

'indeed not' sed sir nikk veiling his rakish grin with his pink lips.

'not?' sed his father aghast.

'not?' sed the cowntess--hoo had not been unawayr of his eies on her boosum--amewsed.

'not?' sed proodens supprised and not pleesed.

'it wud be a crym of nachur indeed for a doter to look so unlyk her mother. laydie grunstayn asshur me that you have hidden in some northern nurserie a doter with those blonde ringlets those misterious mermayd eies'.

'i hav onlie the one doter sir nikklas' sed laydie grunstane ' and heer she is. but she tayks after her father indeed'.

'well she is yung yet' sed sir nikk 'tho i supose we can hoap for brown hayr to grow golden never do bloo eies oblij us by tirning green'.

'no wummans eies wud tirn green heering you thus abews my doter sir' sed the cowntess and proodens silentlie agreed. for the first tym in her lyf someone cleerlie thot her mother prettier than herself and altho novvel this was not a nise sensashun.

'not abews--no! indeed laydie proodens fulfils all my x-pektashuns. hoo in london--or edinburra for that mater--has not herd of the bewtie of littel laydie proodens. but you madam---! this is a rayr plesure indeed.'

out kaym the grin and the cowntess raising her left hand to her face to conceal a smile urged on her horses with her right. sir nikk gazed after her still grinning.

'damme' spluttered his father 'wat was that? it was the doter you were supposed to be corting not the mother! damme if grunstane doesnt call you out within the howr!'

'wait for it' sed the yung man slowly. 'wait for it...'

and as the two men wached with bated breth a bloo bonnet turned and puzzled brown browns knit over the brite bloo eies that regarded them. sir nikk raysed a hand and the face blushed and disappeared presenting the men with the site of afronted shoulders and a bonnet held hi.

'left rite uppercut technical knock-out' sed nikk. 'my work here is done papa. lets grab a bowl of daffy'.

to be kontinued...