VOTES FOR WOMEN
PART TWO
The dinner at Number 28, Grosvenor Street, London, England was going to be a very special one that night. Colonel Sir Joshua Bentley-Cardigan-Smythe had invited some of the most important people in London to attend and the reason he had invited some of the most important people in London to attend was because they were very, very rich and the reason he wanted to invite very, very rich people was because he wanted some of their money. Sir Joshua had devoted most of his life to writing a book entitled, “How to Cook and Serve the Perfect Breakfast” which was full of diagrams and explanations and directions about his favourite subject - breakfast. It was one thousand pages long and would cost a fortune to print. That’s why he needed money!
“Allow me to welcome you one and all to my little home!” he shouted at the gathered people before him. On the dining table sat a thick wad of pages, all hand written. This was his pride and joy which he had slaved over for years, “At last I can present to the good people of Britain and the Empire my lovely book! All I need is a little money from each of you to print it.”
The twenty very important people banged their cutlery on the table to congratulate him. They liked investing their money in projects which would make them a lot of money and this one looked like it would makes them lots.
A man with a very big moustache spoke, “How much money do you wish from each of us.”
“I shall explain as Emily, Emily, Emily and Emily serve the starters.” And then he shouted, “Starters!” very loudly and the four servants (none of whom was called Emily) entered and started plonking down dishes in front of the guests.
And so Sir Joshua began his long, winding, boring and very shouty speech about breakfast. Who would have thought there was so much to say about sausage, eggs and bacon? Sir Joshua thought there was lots to say and he was saying it right now. But as he spoke the guests were too polite to start eating.
One hour later he said, “Not touching your starters? Very well! Emily, Emily, Emily and Emily - take away the starters!” And that’s exactly what happened. The starters were taken away before anyone had chance to start them.
“Now while Emily, Emily, Emily and Emily serve the main course - I’d like to say a little about eggs!” And he launched into another meandering speech. The servants served the food and it went colder and colder and colder.
But that’s when the evening changed. After an hour Sir Joshua said, “Not touching your mains? Very well! Emily, Emily, Emily and Emily - take away the mains!” And four people entered the dining room, but they were not the ones Sir Joshua called Emily, Emily, Emily and Emily - they were two suffragettes plus Dorothy and Mary dressed as servants - but Sir Joshua never noticed, because he thought they were all Emilys.
Dorothy pulled over a small stool and helped Mary stand up on it.
“Whatever are you doing, Emily?” shouted Sir Joshua.
“S…s…s!” begin Mary, nervously.
“You sound like a sausage!” scoffed Sir Joshua.
Dorothy held Mary’s hand to give her confidence.
“Some people should not be allow to have servants and treat women badly. And you are one of them!” She pointed at Sir Joshua and, in front of all his very important guests, said, “That man threw his breakfast at me this morning!”
The room was aghast. Ladies held their napkins to their mouths in surprise, gentlemen waggled their forks in astonishment. Could a gentleman actually do this to a woman? Is it true?
“It’s true, every word!” said Mary.
“I think there appears to be some misunderstanding. I would never throw a decent breakfast at a mere woman. Never!”
But then Mary pointed to where the sausage had hit the painting of Sir Joshua’s grandpapa. The grease stain was still there.
“That is the evidence!” And the very important people shouted out in alarm, “Gosh! Crickey! Blimey! Cor!”
And Dorothy grabbed a gravy-soaked sausage from the dinner table and hurled it at Sir Joshua, it bounced off his head, flew out of the window and hit a policeman in the street.
Within seconds everyone in the room was hurling sausages at Sir Joshua many of which bounced through the window and hit the policeman again.
“Stop! Stop! Stop!” shouted Sir Joshua, but they didn’t. It was far too much fun.
Seconds later a policeman with gravy slithering down his black uniform entered the room and shouted, “Who has been throwing sausages at my uniform?”
And every finger in the room pointed at Sir Joshua and everyone said, “Him!”
“No! No! No!” he protested, loudly
But the policeman clicked him into handcuffs, shoved him into the back of his van and took him off to the station.
“Perhaps Mary could take the vacant place at the head of the table,” suggested Dorothy, “and tell us all about the future for women in this country?”
“I’m not sure anyone would want to hear that,” muttered Mary.
“Who votes for Mary?” asked Dorothy and every hand in the room was raised and Mary smiled a gentle little smile and began her speech.
