THE TRUE HISTORY
OF
WASHINGTON MUMBLE-JUPP

by
Lesley Gordon

This is the story of WASHINGTON JUPP, who mumbled and mumbled and wouldn't speak up ; an unfortunate habit ascribed by his mummy, to the fact that when tiny he would have a dummy. No true British baby—remarked Mrs. Jupp—however neglected or badly dragged up, from the East to the West, from the North to the South, would be seen with an object like that in his mouth. But had the good lady stood talking all day, she'd never have cured young WASHINGTON J.
At an age when the average toddler speaks, with a dummy fast parked between pink bulging cheeks, he would sit without comment all day in his pram, as an idol might brood in the wilds of Siam. They taught him at school how to waggle his tongue, the use of the larynx, the laws of the lung, but whether through laziness, shyness or what,
articulate clearly
that youngster would NOT.
They taught him the tale of the Lady who Sells, by the Side of the Sea-Shore the Sea-Shore Shells, but to understand WASHINGTON'S smallest remark, was like hurrying backwards downstairs in the dark ; and in spite of repeating the tongue-twisting case, of the—
R-ragged R-rascals R-rural R-race,
R-round the R-rugged R-rock—
young WASHINGTON JUPP, just mumbled and mumbled and wouldn't speak up.
"Did nothing improve him?" I hear you all say. "Oh, what has become of poor WASHINGTON J.?" The answer will cause you to open your eye, for our hero was cured by a gooseberry pie!
A gooseberry pie, not too sharp nor too sweet, was the dish the small JUPP most delighted to eat.
A gooseberry pie with a portion of cream, seemed to WASHINGTON JUPP like some beautiful dream, and it chanced that a gooseberry pie was served up, on the day that I mention, by kind Mrs. Jupp.
"M-m," mumbled WASHINGTON, "this is good stuff! All right as a sample— not nearly enough! "But partly through slackness and partly through pie, you'd never have gathered— and neither should I— that in accents that Mr. Lloyd James would deplore, like Oliver Twist he was asking for more.
His mother, although a most excellent woman, was fitted with ears, after all, only human, not catching her WASHINGTON'S muffled demand, leaned forward and tenderly patted his hand, and said with a motherly light in her eye, " Don't eat it then, dear, if you don't like the pie ! " He mumbled and mumbled and passed his plate up till, puzzled and mystified, poor Mrs. Jupp replied to her son with a ghost of a frown,
Oh, very well, WASHINGTON, you may get down."
And never since then did our hero look back. He opened his mouth and he ceased to be slack; his vowels were a pleasure, his consonants joy, oh, never was heard a more well-spoken boy!
And WASHINGTON JUPP, though that isn't his name, by diligent practice won fortune and fame, for he's now the announcer, the one you like best, at the Midland—or is it the Regional West ? Depressions from Iceland are much less depressing announced in his accents so firm yet caressing, and even Stock Prices seem rather less fat, and all—except farmers—are grateful for that. And though WASHINGTON'S progress was painful and slow, it only, I think you'll agree, goes to show, what Industry, spelt with a capital " I," can do for a person— —and gooseberry pie!