Disclaimer: I own nothing. L. M. Montgomery owns all the characters.
Her husband was drunk. Her husband was spectacularly drunk.
It was one of those lazy weekend afternoons. Some of the grandparents and parents were on the Ingleside porch while the children were down in Rainbow Valley shrieking, screaming, and probably running around.
As of right now, the grandparents, Father, Rosemary, "Aunt" Anne, "Uncle Gilbert, and (with some insistence from "Aunt" Anne) Susan were standing together in one area of the porch. The "boys" (her husband Jem, Shirley, Jerry, Carl, and Ken) were all standing in another small circle, with drinks in hand, discussing who-knew-what. The "girls" (Faith herself, Nan, and Rilla) were standing in a semi-circle a little bit away from their husbands discussing their own things.
Faith looked over at her husband for a moment and saw him sling his arm over Jerry's shoulders and start belong out a song with Jerry joining in after the first few words.
"That's the wrong way to tickle Mary"
Oh no. The rest of the "boys" joined in.
"That's the wrong way to kiss! …"
Faith bit her lip to keep from laughing but it didn't help take the grin off her face. Don't look at Nan and Rilla she thought. Don't look at Nan and Rilla.
"They like it best like this! …"
Oh Providence, she couldn't help it. She glanced at her sisters-in-law, all of them glancing at the other two before they communally bit their lips to try to stifle their laughter before chortling. They knew precisely what their husbands were talking about.
"Farewell Angleterre!
We didn't know the way to tickle Mary
But we learned how over there!"
She glanced over at the adults and as she did so, she could feel the grin slipping off her face. Father looks at the "boys" unconcerned, happy at the joyful singing, and seemingly not noticing what the specific lyrics were. The rest of the adults looked at the young men with eyes wide and mouths hung open … albeit with a mixture of other emotions playing across their faces too. Poor "Aunt" Anne; Faith herself could see the hurt and shame in her eyes and the disappointment that had crossed her face. Faith knew that look well, having had that expression on her face when her own children had done wrong; Faith knew that if Jem and Shirley had been children, her mother-in-law would've given them a serious talking to.
As for Rosemary and "Uncle" Gilbert, they looked like they wanted to wash their respective sons' mouths out with soap if their sons had been children and not adults. Susan, even more so, looked like she wanted to conduct the act that Rosemary and "Uncle" Gilbert so desperately wanted to do.
Faith knew it must've been a few seconds - but it felt interminably longer - but it seemed that "Uncle" Gilbert finally closed his mouth, disappointment settling across his face and sorrowful eyes.
"Boys, I want to remind you that you have young, impressionable children running around in the Valley who probably heard you quite clearly due to your loud singing."
"Oh … um," Jem stammered, putting his free hand nervously in his pants pocket, "how loudly were we singing?"
"Very. It was more like yelling, son. I reckon they heard you down at Carter Flagg's store."
Jem was red before but now he was positively maroon. "Sorry, Dad," her husband mumbled as he ducked his chin into his chest ashamedly. "Won't happen again," he continued as Faith's brothers and brothers-in-law mumbled their own apologies.
Faith realized the truthfulness of that statement. They had been yelling, and she, the wife and sister of so many of them, hadn't tried to stop them! It was one thing for the whole town to gossip about one of the Elliots or McAllisters, but while she still did in some ways care about what the town thought of her and her own family, she knew that it was important to keep up the reputation of one of the town's doctors - in this case, Jem. She didn't want any one in the Glen to stop respecting him even for a short while. Once she explained it quietly to Jem, it was with this view in mind that they headed home before anything else happened, with their children being permitted to stay there in the Valley until dinner-time when they too had to head home.
Wartime Lyrics to "It's a Long Way to Tipperary":
That's the wrong way to tickle Mary
That's the wrong way to kiss!
Don't you know that over here, lad,
They like it best like this!
Hooray pour le Francais!
Farewell, Angleterre!
We didn't know the way to tickle Mary,
But we learned how, over there!
If you guys are interested in listening to the original recording of "It's a Long Way to Tipperary," Google + It's a Long Way to Tipperary and it'll pop up. The wartime lyrics will be at the bottom of the webpage and my guess is that they're sung to the tune of the chorus of "It's a Long Way to Tipperary."