Hobson's Choice Page #2

- Now, I've come here about these boots.

- Yes, Mrs Hepworth.

Well, they look very nice.

Get up, Hobson.

You look ridiculous on the floor.

- Who made these boots?

- We did. Our own make.

Will you answer a straight question?

Who made these boots?

They were made on the premises.

Young woman, you seemed to have

some sense. Can you answer me?

I think so, Mrs Hepworth,

but I'll make sure for you.

Tubby!

Did you wish to see

the identical workman, madam?

I said so.

I'm responsible

for all work turned out here.

- Yes, Miss Maggie?

- Man, did you make these boots?

- No, ma'am.

- Then who did?

Am I to question every soul in the place

before I find out?

They're Willie's making,

those, ma'am.

- Then tell Willie I want him.

- Certainly, ma'am.

- Who's Willie?

- Name of Mossop.

But I assure you if there's anything wrong,

I'm capable of making the man suffer for it.

- You Mossop?

- Yes, ma'am.

You made these boots?

Aye, I made them last week.

Take that.

- Read it.

- I...

- I'm trying.

- Bless the man. Can't you read?

It's the italics which makes it

difficult for him, Mrs Hepworth.

Now, listen to me, my man.

I'm particular about what I put on my feet.

I assure you this shall not occur again,

Mrs Hepworth.

- What shan't?

- I don't know.

Then hold your tongue.

Now, Mossop,

I've tried every shop in Manchester

and these are the best-made

pair of boots I've ever had.

Now, you make my boots in future.

- You hear that, Hobson?

- Of course he shall.

You keep that card, Mossop.

And don't you go to another shop

without letting me know where you are.

Oh, he won't make a change.

How do you know? The man's a treasure,

and I expect you underpay him.

- That'll do, Willie. You can go.

- Yes, sir.

He's like a rabbit.

Can I take your order

for another pair of boots, Mrs Hepworth?

No, not yet, young woman,

but I shall send my daughters here,

and mind - that man's to make the boots.

- Certainly, Mrs Hepworth.

- Good morning.

Good morning. Very glad to have had

the honour of serving you, madam.

What does she want to praise

a workman to his face for?

- He deserved it.

- Deserved be blown!

- Making him uppish now!

- Are you coming over, Henry?

I am!

- Dinner's at one o'clock, remember.

- Now look here, Maggie.

I set the hours in this house.

It's one o'clock dinner because I say it is,

not because you do.

- Yes, Father.

- So long as that's clear, I'll go.

Dinner's at half-past.

That'll give him half an hour.

Female perversity

comes from leading an indoor life.

Morning.

Women think they're important

because they're boss in t'kitchen.

How do?

Oh, no.

Front.

Morning. How d'you do?

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