The Butler Had a Limp

The butler had a limp as he led me through the foyer, but his impeccable dress and manner assured me of a well-run household. He gestured to the front parlor when an earsplitting howl erupted from the far end of the hall. Another answered. The back door burst open, and two feral dogs launched through and attached themselves to the stately butler’s trousers. I was doubly shocked to realize they were not dogs but wolves!

I searched in vain for a weapon to defend him. Unruffled, the man grabbed each beast by the scruff of the neck, shook them loose of his shredded trousers, and threw them out the door with a sharp reprimand, “Not in the house.”

My mouth hung open in a most unladylike manner, and I promptly shut it. The butler showed me to a settee and offered tea with a kindly smile. I nodded rather dumbly.

He returned a moment later, balancing a tea tray and dragging two young boys, one wrapped around each leg. I studied the two grinning imps about his ankles as he poured the tea. Each had bare feet, tousled hair, and clothes askew. I thought to ask if these were the charges I was tasked with tutoring when a most ferocious howl sounded at the front door. The boys leapt to their feet and ran for the door screaming, “Poppa! Poppa!”

“That would be the master,” said the butler with an ever-patient expression and a polite bow.

“Indeed?” I asked.

“Indeed.”