The Winslow Boy

- Well, good night, Wheeler. - Good night, Winslow. See you tomorrow.

As a matter of fact you won't. I've travelled on the 6.13 for the last time.

Good heavens, you've been travelling on it for years.

Forty-two, to be precise. Retiring.

Retiring? You don't look the retiring sort.

Well, as a matter of fact I'm not. Got a slight touch of arthritis.

Arthritis? My dear fellow, you're talking to the right man.

My wife's brother was a martyr, a positive martyr.

He found a specialist fellow. I forget his name. I'll let you have it.

The specialist took one look at him and said, "Goodbye! Good luck!"

Arthur!

You're back, dear.

- Mother, I'm nearly ready. - Yes, Ronnie darling.

Don't tell Father, whatever you do.

- What am I not to be told? - Can't you guess?

- Oh! How does he look in it? - Quite adorable!

- Where's Catherine? - She's in the garden, I think.

Yes. There she is, doing her envelopes.

- Should I tell her you're in? - No, don't.

From now on, for my family will have all the chances they'll want of finding me in.

Oh Arthur dear, I am sorry. I'd quite forgotten this was your last day at the bank.

- What was it like? - Well, they gave me a watch.

"To Arthur Winslow, from his friends and colleagues at Lloyds Bank. Sept 9th, 1912."

How nice. I don't know how you feel about it, Arthur,

but I'm glad it's all over now. I'm glad that at last you're going to have a real rest.

I thought I had made it sufficiently clear to Dickie...

that I would not have him playing his infernal machine in the drawing room.

Oh, hello, Father. I -

I was just practising the -

- ... "Bunny Hug". - The what?

The "Bunny Hug". Well, it's a cross between the "Turkey Trot" and the ... "Kangaroo Hop".

- Did you finish that work this afternoon? - Well, er...

No, not exactly. But -

I think it's time you found out...

that I am not spending £200 a year in keeping you at Oxford in order...

that you may learn to dance the, er...

- "Bunny Hop". - "Hug", Father.

The exact description of the contortion is immaterial.

I consider it disgraceful that a a 19-year-old boy should be...

set an example in conduct and industry by his 12-year-old brother.

Oh yes, I see. So that's going to be brought up again, is it?

Ronnie got into the Navy, where I failed.

However, I suppose I'm not the first person to be misunderstood by his own family.

If you're going to your room, I suggest you take that object with you.

I'm terribly sorry, I'm afraid we're trespassing.

- Oh, that's all right. - My name's Watherstone.

My father and I only moved in yesterday.

Yes, I know. We admired your sideboard very much.

Oh. Yes it is rather nice.

I say, you must have a great number of friends.

They're not all my friends, I'm afraid. I wish they were.

"Votes for Women". Oh - a suffragette.

Yes, but don't look so alarmed - I'm not the militant type.

I won't chain myself to your railings, I promise you.

His father is a retired colonel. And he's in the Royal Artillery - a captain.

- Goodbye. - Goodbye.

Mother, can I come in now?

Yes, Ronnie darling.

Arthur - remember it's a surprise.

Father?

Not like that, Ronnie. Like this.

That's better.

That's the first thing they teach you when you get to Osborne.

Turn around.

Looks quite the little naval officer, our Master Ronnie, doesn't he?

He is a naval officer, Violet. He is no longer our Master Ronnie.

Cadet Ronald Winslow, of Royal Navy.

Yes, I won't forget. I'll post it.

See you soon.

Goodbye, my dear.

Well, goodbye, Ronnie. You have a great chance. I know you won't let us down.

I won't, Father.

Goodbye! Goodbye!

Dear Mother and Father. I am well and happy, but would like some more jam.

I scored a goal yesterday.

My chemistry's not too bad.

Thanks for the cake. Please send some more jam.

Dear Father, you will be getting my half term report next week .

I've got my fingers crossed. I miss you all very much,

and count the days before the end of the term.

Hoorah! Only 32 more to go.

I can tie 16 different kinds of knots.

Old Simpson says I can't draw a map for toffee. Silly old fool.

Dear Mother, please send some more jam.

Tell Kate I swapped my last pot of jam for a guinea pig.

I've called him Kate.

Only nine days, 17 hours and 23 minutes before the end of term.

Your loving son, Ronnie

You haven't forgotten John is coming at half past twelve?

Master Ronnie!

- Hello, Violet. - Well, aren't you coming in?

We weren't expecting you back till Tuesday.

Yes, I know.

Why ever didn't you let us know you were coming, you silly boy?

Your mother should have been at the station to meet you.

Where are they, Violet?

- Church, of course. - Oh, yes. It's Sunday, isn't it.

What's the matter with you? What've they been doing to you at Osborne?

What do you mean?

Well, they seem to have made you a bit soft in the head or something.

Well? Don't I get a kiss?

Or are you too grown up for that, now?

Sorry, Violet.

That's better.

- Where's your luggage? - Oh... they're - they're sending it on later.

Oh. Well, I must get these things dry.

They'll be ever so pleased to see you.

All things bright and beautiful,

All Creatures Great and Small,

All things wise and wonderful,

The Lord God made them all.

The rich man in his castle,

The poor man at his gate,

God made them high or lowly

And ordered their estate.

All things bright and beautiful,

All Creatures Great and Small,

You will see John in the study, dear, won't you?

- Yes. - He should be here at any moment.

I hope you've been primed, Father.

You're not going to let me down and forbid the match, or anything, are you?

Never fear, my dear.

I'm much too keen on the prospect of getting you off our hands at last.

I'm not sure I quite like that "at last".

That will be John. Quick, in the conservatory.

Here - you've forgotten your bag.

What on earth is going on here?

We're leaving you alone with John.

When you've finished, cough or something.

What do you mean 'or something'?

Ah, I know. Knock on the floor with your stick three times. Then we'll come in.

You don't think that that might look a trifle, er...

coincidental?

We'll be in here.

Captain Watherstone.

How are you, John?

Forgive me for not getting up,

but my arthritis has been troubling me rather a lot lately.

- I'm sorry to hear that, sir. - Sit down, won't you.

Well now. I understand that -

Will you be so good as to ring that bell?

Thank you. Do you smoke?

Yes, sir, I do. Thank you.

In moderation, of course.

Well now, I understand that you...

wish to marry my daughter.

Yes sir. Of course, sir.

Why "of course"? There are plenty of people about who don't wish to marry her.

However we will not quibble about that.

I think we'll take the romantic side of the project for granted.

Now, as to the more practical aspect.

She is not, in case you should think otherwise,

- the daughter of a rich man. - I didn't think otherwise, sir.

Apart from a small pension, we have nothing.

Except what I've managed to save during my career at the bank.

I propose to settle on her one sixth of my total capital.

That's very generous of you, sir.

Well, it's not as generous as I would like to have been.

Now, about your own income?

Are you able to live on it?

- No, sir. I'm in the regular army. - Yes.

But my army pay is supplemented by an allowance from my father.

You rang, sir?

Yes, Violet.

My compliments to Mr Dickie,

and if he doesn't stop that cacophonous hullaballoo at once...

I'll throw him and his infernal machine into the street.

Yes, sir.

What was that word again, sir? Cac - something?

Never mind, never mind. Say what you like. Only stop him.

Well, I'll do my best, sir.

- Excuse me, madam. - Where are you going, Violet?

I got to stop Mr Dickie's ca... ca... coff ... cac-something.

Well, that all seems perfectly satisfactory.

Perfectly satisfactory.

I don't think I need delay my congratulations any longer.

Thank you very much, sir.

Pretty rotten weather, isn't it, sir?

It's vile.

- Would you care for another cigarette? - Thank you sir. I'm still smoking.

Yes...

Well, well. My wife and daughter in here, of all places.

Come in, Grace. Come in, Catherine. John is here.

Why, John - how nice!

Well?

- Well what? - How did your little talk go?

I understood that you were not supposed to know that we were having a little talk.

Oh, you really are infuriating.

Is everything all right, John?

I'm so glad, I really am.

- Thank you, Mrs Winslow.. - May I kiss you?

After all, I'm practically your mother now.

By the same token, I'm practically your father, but if you will forgive me...

Certainly, sir.

Well Grace, I think this calls for a little modest celebration at luncheon.

Where are the keys to the cellar?

I'll get them for you, dear.

- Was it an ordeal? - I was scared to death.

Poor darling.

The annoying thing was I had a whole lot of neatly turned phrases ready for him,