initial commit of ebook 4064HEADmain

9 files changed, 24804 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6833f05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+* text=auto
+*.txt text
+*.md text
diff --git a/4064-0.txt b/4064-0.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..da5749f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/4064-0.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,5556 @@
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOONBEAMS FROM THE LARGER
+LUNACY ***
+
+
+
+
+MOONBEAMS FROM THE LARGER LUNACY
+
+By Stephen Leacock
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+The prudent husbandman, after having taken from his field
+all the straw that is there, rakes it over with a wooden
+rake and gets as much again. The wise child, after the
+lemonade jug is empty, takes the lemons from the bottom
+of it and squeezes them into a still larger brew. So does
+the sagacious author, after having sold his material to
+the magazines and been paid for it, clap it into book-covers
+and give it another squeeze. But in the present case the
+author is of a nice conscience and anxious to place
+responsibility where it is due. He therefore wishes to
+make all proper acknowledgments to the editors of Vanity
+Fair, The American Magazine, The Popular Magazine, Life,
+Puck, The Century, Methuen's Annual, and all others who
+are in any way implicated in the making of this book.
+
+STEPHEN LEACOCK.
+
+McGill University,
+Montreal.
+Oct. 1, 1915.
+
+
+
+  CONTENTS
+
+    I SPOOF: A Thousand-Guinea Novel
+   II THE READING PUBLIC
+  III AFTERNOON ADVENTURES AT MY CLUB
+        l--The Anecdotes of Dr. So and So
+        2--The Shattered Health of Mr. Podge
+        3--The Amazing Travels of Mr. Yarner
+        4--The Spiritual Outlook of Mr. Doomer
+        5--The Reminiscences of Mr. Apricot
+        6--The Last Man Out of Europe
+        7--The War Mania of Mr. Jinks and Mr. Blinks
+        8--The Ground Floor
+        9--The Hallucination of Mr. Butt
+   IV RAM SPUDD
+    V ARISTOCRATIC ANECDOTES
+   VI EDUCATION MADE AGREEABLE
+  VII AN EVERY-DAY EXPERIENCE
+ VIII TRUTHFUL ORATORY
+   IX OUR LITERARY BUREAU
+    X SPEEDING UP BUSINESS
+   XI WHO IS ALSO WHO
+  XII PASSIONATE PARAGRAPHS
+ XIII WEEJEE THE PET DOG
+  XIV SIDELIGHTS ON THE SUPERMEN
+   XV THE SURVIVAL or THE FITTEST
+  XVI THE FIRST NEWSPAPER
+ XVII IN THE GOOD TIME AFTER THE WAR
+
+
+
+I.--Spoof. A Thousand-Guinea Novel. New! Fascinating!
+Perplexing!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+Readers are requested to note that this novel has taken
+our special prize of a cheque for a thousand guineas.
+This alone guarantees for all intelligent readers a
+palpitating interest in every line of it. Among the
+thousands of MSS. which reached us--many of them coming
+in carts early in the morning, and moving in a dense
+phalanx, indistinguishable from the Covent Garden Market
+waggons; others pouring down our coal-chute during the
+working hours of the day; and others again being slipped
+surreptitiously into our letter-box by pale, timid girls,
+scarcely more than children, after nightfall (in fact
+many of them came in their night-gowns),--this manuscript
+alone was the sole one--in fact the only one--to receive
+the prize of a cheque of a thousand guineas. To other
+competitors we may have given, inadvertently perhaps, a
+bag of sovereigns or a string of pearls, but to this
+story alone is awarded the first prize by the unanimous
+decision of our judges.
+
+When we say that the latter body included two members of
+the Cabinet, two Lords of the Admiralty, and two bishops,
+with power in case of dispute to send all the MSS. to
+the Czar of Russia, our readers will breathe a sigh of
+relief to learn that the decision was instant and unanimous.
+Each one of them, in reply to our telegram, answered
+immediately SPOOF.
+
+This novel represents the last word in up-to-date fiction.
+It is well known that the modern novel has got far beyond
+the point of mere story-telling. The childish attempt to
+INTEREST the reader has long since been abandoned by all
+the best writers. They refuse to do it.  The modern novel
+must convey a message, or else it must paint a picture,
+or remove a veil, or open a new chapter in human psychology.
+Otherwise it is no good. SPOOF does all of these things.
+The reader rises from its perusal perplexed, troubled,
+and yet so filled with information that rising itself is
+a difficulty.
+
+We cannot, for obvious reasons, insert the whole of the
+first chapter. But the portion here presented was praised
+by The Saturday Afternoon Review as giving one of the
+most graphic and at the same time realistic pictures of
+America ever written in fiction.
+
+Of the characters whom our readers are to imagine seated
+on the deck--on one of the many decks (all connected by
+elevators)--of the Gloritania, one word may be said. Vere
+de Lancy is (as the reviewers have under oath declared)
+a typical young Englishman of the upper class. He is
+nephew to the Duke of--, but of this fact no one on
+the ship, except the captain, the purser, the steward,
+and the passengers are, or is, aware.
+
+In order entirely to conceal his identity, Vere de Lancy
+is travelling under the assumed name of Lancy de Vere.
+In order the better to hide the object of his journey,
+Lancy de Vere (as we shall now call him, though our
+readers will be able at any moment to turn his name
+backwards) has given it to be understood that he is
+travelling merely as a gentleman anxious to see America.
+This naturally baffles all those in contact with him.
+
+The girl at his side--but perhaps we may best let her
+speak for herself.
+
+Somehow as they sat together on the deck of the great
+steamer in the afterglow of the sunken sun, listening to
+the throbbing of the propeller (a rare sound which neither
+of them of course had ever heard before), de Vere felt
+that he must speak to her. Something of the mystery of
+the girl fascinated him. What was she doing here alone
+with no one but her mother and her maid, on the bosom of
+the Atlantic? Why was she here? Why was she not somewhere
+else? The thing puzzled, perplexed him. It would not let
+him alone. It fastened upon his brain. Somehow he felt
+that if he tried to drive it away, it might nip him in
+the ankle.
+
+In the end he spoke.
+
+"And you, too," he said, leaning over her deck-chair,
+"are going to America?"
+
+He had suspected this ever since the boat left Liverpool.
+Now at length he framed his growing conviction into words.
+
+"Yes," she assented, and then timidly, "it is 3,213 miles
+wide, is it not?"
+
+"Yes," he said, "and 1,781 miles deep! It reaches from
+the forty-ninth parallel to the Gulf of Mexico."
+
+"Oh," cried the girl, "what a vivid picture!  I seem to
+see it."
+
+"Its major axis," he went on, his voice sinking almost
+to a caress, "is formed by the Rocky Mountains, which
+are practically a prolongation of the Cordilleran Range.
+It is drained," he continued--
+
+"How splendid!" said the girl.
+
+"Yes, is it not? It is drained by the Mississippi, by
+the St. Lawrence, and--dare I say it?--by the Upper
+Colorado."
+
+Somehow his hand had found hers in the half gloaming,
+but she did not check him.
+
+"Go on," she said very simply; "I think I ought to hear
+it."
+
+"The great central plain of the interior," he continued,
+"is formed by a vast alluvial deposit carried down as
+silt by the Mississippi. East of this the range of the
+Alleghanies, nowhere more than eight thousand feet in
+height, forms a secondary or subordinate axis from which
+the watershed falls to the Atlantic."
+
+He was speaking very quietly but earnestly.  No man had
+ever spoken to her like this before.
+
+"What a wonderful picture!" she murmured half to herself,
+half aloud, and half not aloud and half not to herself.
+
+"Through the whole of it," de Vere went on, "there run
+railways, most of them from east to west, though a few
+run from west to east.  The Pennsylvania system alone
+has twenty-one thousand miles of track."
+
+"Twenty-one thousand miles," she repeated; already she
+felt her will strangely subordinate to his.
+
+He was holding her hand firmly clasped in his and looking
+into her face.
+
+"Dare I tell you," he whispered, "how many employees it
+has?"
+
+"Yes," she gasped, unable to resist.
+
+"A hundred and fourteen thousand," he said.
+
+There was silence. They were both thinking. Presently
+she spoke, timidly.
+
+"Are there any cities there?"
+
+"Cities!" he said enthusiastically, "ah, yes!  let me
+try to give you a word-picture of them.  Vast cities--with
+tall buildings, reaching to the very sky. Why, for
+instance, the new Woolworth Building in New York--"
+
+"Yes, yes," she broke in quickly, "how high is it?"
+
+"Seven hundred and fifty feet."
+
+The girl turned and faced him.
+
+"Don't," she said. "I can't bear it. Some other time,
+perhaps, but not now."
+
+She had risen and was gathering up her wraps. "And you,"
+she said, "why are you going to America?"
+
+"Why?" he answered. "Because I want to see, to know, to
+learn. And when I have learned and seen and known, I want
+other people to see and to learn and to know. I want to
+write it all down, all the vast palpitating picture of
+it. Ah! if I only could--I want to see" (and here he
+passed his hand through his hair as if trying to remember)
+"something of the relations of labour and capital, of
+the extraordinary development of industrial machinery,
+of the new and intricate organisation of corporation
+finance, and in particular I want to try to analyse--no
+one has ever done it yet--the men who guide and drive
+it all. I want to set down the psychology of the
+multimillionaire!"
+
+He paused. The girl stood irresolute. She was thinking
+(apparently, for if not, why stand there?).
+
+"Perhaps," she faltered, "I could help you."
+
+"You!"
+
+"Yes, I might." She hesitated. "I--I--come from America."
+
+"You!" said de Vere in astonishment.  "With a face and
+voice like yours! It is impossible!"
+
+The boldness of the compliment held her speechless for
+a moment.
+
+"I do," she said; "my people lived just outside of Cohoes."
+
+"They couldn't have," he said passionately.
+
+"I shouldn't speak to you like this," the girl went on,
+"but it's because I feel from what you have said that
+you know and love America.  And I think I can help you."
+
+"You mean," he said, divining her idea, "that you can
+help me to meet a multimillionaire?"
+
+"Yes," she answered, still hesitating.
+
+"You know one?"
+
+"Yes," still hesitating, "I know ONE."
+
+She seemed about to say more, her lips had already opened,
+when suddenly the dull raucous blast of the foghorn (they
+used a raucous one on this ship on purpose) cut the night
+air. Wet fog rolled in about them, wetting everything.
+
+The girl shivered.
+
+"I must go," she said; "good night."
+
+For a moment de Vere was about to detain her. The wild
+thought leaped to his mind to ask her her name or at
+least her mother's.  With a powerful effort he checked
+himself.
+
+"Good night," he said.
+
+She was gone.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+Limits of space forbid the insertion of the whole of this
+chapter. Its opening contains one of the most vivid
+word-pictures of the inside of an American customs house
+ever pictured in words. From the customs wharf de Vere
+is driven in a taxi to the Belmont.  Here he engages a
+room; here, too, he sleeps; here also, though cautiously
+at first, he eats.  All this is so admirably described
+that only those who have driven in a taxi to an hotel
+and slept there can hope to appreciate it.
+
+Limits of space also forbid our describing in full de
+Vere's vain quest in New York of the beautiful creature
+whom he had met on the steamer and whom he had lost from
+sight in the aigrette department of the customs house.
+A thousand times he cursed his folly in not having asked
+her name.
+
+Meanwhile no word comes from her, till suddenly,
+mysteriously, unexpectedly, on the fourth day a note is
+handed to de Vere by the Third Assistant Head Waiter of
+the Belmont.  It is addressed in a lady's hand. He tears
+it open. It contains only the written words, "Call on
+Mr. J. Superman Overgold. He is a multimillionaire. He
+expects you."
+
+To leap into a taxi (from the third story of the Belmont)
+was the work of a moment.  To drive to the office of Mr.
+Overgold was less.  The portion of the novel which follows
+is perhaps the most notable part of it. It is this part
+of the chapter which the Hibbert Journal declares to be
+the best piece of psychological analysis that appears in
+any novel of the season. We reproduce it here.
+
+"Exactly, exactly," said de Vere, writing rapidly in his
+note-book as he sat in one of the deep leather armchairs
+of the luxurious office of Mr. Overgold. "So you sometimes
+feel as if the whole thing were not worth while."
+
+"I do," said Mr. Overgold. "I can't help asking myself
+what it all means. Is life, after all, merely a series
+of immaterial phenomena, self-developing and based solely
+on sensation and reaction, or is it something else?"
+
+He paused for a moment to sign a cheque for $10,000 and
+throw it out of the window, and then went on, speaking
+still with the terse brevity of a man of business.
+
+"Is sensation everywhere or is there perception too? On
+what grounds, if any, may the hypothesis of a
+self-explanatory consciousness be rejected? In how far
+are we warranted in supposing that innate ideas are
+inconsistent with pure materialism?"
+
+De Vere listened, fascinated. Fortunately for himself,
+he was a University man, fresh from the examination halls
+of his Alma Mater.  He was able to respond at once.
+
+"I think," he said modestly, "I grasp your thought. You
+mean--to what extent are we prepared to endorse Hegel's
+dictum of immaterial evolution?"
+
+"Exactly," said Mr. Overgold. "How far, if at all, do we
+substantiate the Kantian hypothesis of the transcendental?"
+
+"Precisely," said de Vere eagerly. "And for what reasons
+[naming them] must we reject Spencer's theory of the
+unknowable?"
+
+"Entirely so," continued Mr. Overgold.  "And why, if at
+all, does Bergsonian illusionism differ from pure
+nothingness?"
+
+They both paused.
+
+Mr. Overgold had risen. There was great weariness in his
+manner.
+
+"It saddens one, does it not?" he said.
+
+He had picked up a bundle of Panama two per cent. gold
+bonds and was looking at them in contempt.
+
+"The emptiness of it all!" he muttered. He extended the
+bonds to de Vere.
+
+"Do you want them," he said, "or shall I throw them away?"
+
+"Give them to me," said de Vere quietly; "they are not
+worth the throwing."
+
+"No, no," said Mr. Overgold, speaking half to himself,
+as he replaced the bonds in his desk.  "It is a burden
+that I must carry alone. I have no right to ask any one
+to share it. But come," he continued, "I fear I am sadly
+lacking in the duties of international hospitality. I am
+forgetting what I owe to Anglo-American courtesy. I am
+neglecting the new obligations of our common Indo-Chinese
+policy. My motor is at the door. Pray let me take you to
+my house to lunch."
+
+De Vere assented readily, telephoned to the Belmont not
+to keep lunch waiting for him, and in a moment was speeding
+up the magnificent Riverside Drive towards Mr. Overgold's
+home.  On the way Mr. Overgold pointed out various objects
+of interest,--Grant's tomb, Lincoln's tomb, Edgar Allan
+Poe's grave, the ticket office of the New York Subway,
+and various other points of historic importance.
+
+On arriving at the house, de Vere was ushered up a flight
+of broad marble steps to a hall fitted on every side with
+almost priceless objets d'art and others, ushered to the
+cloak-room and out of it, butlered into the lunch-room
+and footmanned to a chair.
+
+As they entered, a lady already seated at the table turned
+to meet them.
+
+One glance was enough--plenty.
+
+It was she--the object of de Vere's impassioned quest.
+A rich lunch-gown was girdled about her with a
+twelve-o'clock band of pearls.
+
+She reached out her hand, smiling.
+
+"Dorothea," said the multimillionaire, "this is Mr. de
+Vere. Mr. de Vere--my wife."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+Of this next chapter we need only say that the Blue Review
+(Adults Only) declares it to be the most daring and yet
+conscientious handling of the sex-problem ever attempted
+and done. The fact that the Congregational Times declares
+that this chapter will undermine the whole foundations
+of English Society and let it fall, we pass over: we hold
+certificates in writing from a great number of the Anglican
+clergy, to the effect that they have carefully read the
+entire novel and see nothing in it.
+
+. . . . . . .
+
+They stood looking at one another.
+
+"So you didn't know," she murmured.
+
+In a flash de Vere realised that she hadn't known that
+he didn't know and knew now that he knew.
+
+He found no words.
+
+The situation was a tense one. Nothing but the woman's
+innate tact could save it. Dorothea Overgold rose to it
+with the dignity of a queen.
+
+She turned to her husband.
+
+"Take your soup over to the window," she said, "and eat
+it there."
+
+The millionaire took his soup to the window and sat
+beneath a little palm tree, eating it.
+
+"You didn't know," she repeated.
+
+"No," said de Vere; "how could I?"
+
+"And yet," she went on, "you loved me, although you didn't
+know that I was married?"
+
+"Yes," answered de Vere simply. "I loved you, in spite
+of it."
+
+"How splendid!" she said.
+
+There was a moment's silence. Mr. Overgold had returned
+to the table, the empty plate in his hand. His wife turned
+to him again with the same unfailing tact.
+
+"Take your asparagus to the billiard-room," she said,
+"and eat it there."
+
+"Does he know, too?" asked de Vere.
+
+"Mr. Overgold?" she said carelessly. "I suppose he does.
+Eh apres, mon ami?"
+
+French? Another mystery! Where and how had she learned
+it? de Vere asked himself.  Not in France, certainly.
+
+"I fear that you are very young, amico mio," Dorothea
+went on carelessly. "After all, what is there wrong in
+it, piccolo pochito? To a man's mind perhaps--but to a
+woman, love is love."
+
+She beckoned to the butler.
+
+"Take Mr. Overgold a cutlet to the music-room," she
+said, "and give him his gorgonzola on the inkstand in
+the library."
+
+"And now," she went on, in that caressing way which seemed
+so natural to her, "don't let us think about it any more!
+After all, what is is, isn't it?"
+
+"I suppose it is," said de Vere, half convinced in spite
+of himself.
+
+"Or at any rate," said Dorothea, "nothing can at the same
+time both be and not be. But come," she broke off, gaily
+dipping a macaroon in a glass of creme de menthe and
+offering it to him with a pretty gesture of camaraderie,
+"don't let's be gloomy any more. I want to take you with
+me to the matinee."
+
+"Is he coming?" asked de Vere, pointing at Mr. Overgold's
+empty chair.
+
+"Silly boy," laughed Dorothea. "Of course John is coming.
+You surely don't want to buy the tickets yourself."
+
+. . . . . . .
+
+The days that followed brought a strange new life to de
+Vere.
+
+Dorothea was ever at his side. At the theatre, at the
+polo ground, in the park, everywhere they were together.
+And with them was Mr. Overgold.
+
+The three were always together. At times at the theatre
+Dorothea and de Vere would sit downstairs and Mr. Overgold
+in the gallery; at other times, de Vere and Mr. Overgold
+would sit in the gallery and Dorothea downstairs; at
+times one of them would sit in Row A, another in Row B,
+and a third in Row C; at other times two would sit in
+Row B and one in Row C; at the opera, at times, one of
+the three would sit listening, the others talking, at
+other times two listening and one talking, and at other
+times three talking and none listening.
+
+Thus the three formed together one of the most perplexing,
+maddening triangles that ever disturbed the society of
+the metropolis.
+
+. . . . . . .
+
+The denouement was bound to come.
+
+It came.
+
+It was late at night.
+
+De Vere was standing beside Dorothea in the brilliantly
+lighted hall of the Grand Palaver Hotel, where they had
+had supper. Mr. Overgold was busy for a moment at the
+cashier's desk.
+
+"Dorothea," de Vere whispered passionately, "I want to
+take you away, away from all this.  I want you."
+
+She turned and looked him full in the face.  Then she
+put her hand in his, smiling bravely.
+
+"I will come," she said.
+
+"Listen," he went on, "the Gloritania sails for England
+to-morrow at midnight. I have everything ready. Will you
+come?"
+
+"Yes," she answered, "I will"; and then passionately,
+"Dearest, I will follow you to England, to Liverpool, to
+the end of the earth."
+
+She paused in thought a moment and then added.
+
+"Come to the house just before midnight.  William, the
+second chauffeur (he is devoted to me), shall be at the
+door with the third car. The fourth footman will bring
+my things--I can rely on him; the fifth housemaid can
+have them all ready--she would never betray me. I will
+have the undergardener--the sixth--waiting at the iron
+gate to let you in; he would die rather than fail me."
+
+She paused again--then she went on.
+
+"There is only one thing, dearest, that I want to ask.
+It is not much. I hardly think you would refuse it at
+such an hour. May I bring my husband with me?"
+
+De Vere's face blanched.
+
+"Must you?" he said.
+
+"I think I must," said Dorothea. "You don't know how I've
+grown to value, to lean upon, him. At times I have felt
+as if I always wanted him to be near me; I like to feel
+wherever I am--at the play, at a restaurant, anywhere
+--that I can reach out and touch him.  I know," she
+continued, "that it's only a wild fancy and that others
+would laugh at it, but you can understand, can you
+not--carino caruso mio? And think, darling, in our new
+life, how busy he, too, will be--making money for all of
+us--in a new money market. It's just wonderful how he
+does it."
+
+A great light of renunciation lit up de Vere's face.
+
+"Bring him," he said.
+
+"I knew that you would say that," she murmured, "and
+listen, pochito pocket-edition, may I ask one thing more,
+one weeny thing? William, the second chauffeur--I think
+he would fade away if I were gone--may I bring him, too?
+Yes! O my darling, how can I repay you? And the second
+footman, and the third housemaid--if I were gone I fear
+that none of--"
+
+"Bring them all," said de Vere half bitterly; "we will
+all elope together."
+
+And as he spoke Mr. Overgold sauntered over from the
+cashier's desk, his open purse still in his hand, and
+joined them. There was a dreamy look upon his face.
+
+"I wonder," he murmured, "whether personality survives
+or whether it, too, when up against the irresistible,
+dissolves and resolves itself into a series of negative
+reactions?"
+
+De Vere's empty heart echoed the words.
+
+Then they passed out and the night swallowed them up.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+At a little before midnight on the next night, two motors
+filled with muffled human beings might have been perceived,
+or seen, moving noiselessly from Riverside Drive to the
+steamer wharf where lay the Gloritania.
+
+A night of intense darkness enveloped the Hudson. Outside
+the inside of the dockside a dense fog wrapped the Statue
+of Liberty. Beside the steamer customs officers and
+deportation officials moved silently to and fro in long
+black cloaks, carrying little deportation lanterns in
+their hands.
+
+To these Mr. Overgold presented in silence his deportation
+certificates, granting his party permission to leave the
+United States under the imbecility clause of the Interstate
+Commerce Act.
+
+No objection was raised.
+
+A few moments later the huge steamer was slipping away
+in the darkness.
+
+On its deck a little group of people, standing beside a
+pile of first-class cabin luggage, directed a last sad
+look through their heavy black disguise at the rapidly
+vanishing shore which they could not see.
+
+De Vere, who stood in the midst of them, clasping their
+hands, thus stood and gazed his last at America.
+
+"Spoof!" he said.
+
+(We admit that this final panorama, weird in its midnight
+mystery, and filling the mind of the reader with a sense
+of something like awe, is only appended to Spoof in order
+to coax him to read our forthcoming sequel, Spiff!)
+
+
+
+II.--The Reading Public. A Book Store Study
+
+"Wish to look about the store? Oh, oh, by all means,
+sir," he said.  Then as he rubbed his hands together in
+an urbane fashion he directed a piercing glance at me
+through his spectacles.
+
+"You'll find some things that might interest you," he
+said, "in the back of the store on the left. We have
+there a series of reprints--Universal Knowledge from
+Aristotle to Arthur Balfour--at seventeen cents. Or
+perhaps you might like to look over the Pantheon of Dead
+Authors at ten cents. Mr. Sparrow," he called, "just show
+this gentleman our classical reprints--the ten-cent
+series."
+
+With that he waved his hand to an assistant and dismissed
+me from his thought.
+
+In other words, he had divined me in a moment. There was
+no use in my having bought a sage-green fedora in Broadway,
+and a sporting tie done up crosswise with spots as big
+as nickels. These little adornments can never hide the
+soul within. I was a professor, and he knew it, or at
+least, as part of his business, he could divine it on
+the instant.
+
+The sales manager of the biggest book store for ten blocks
+cannot be deceived in a customer.  And he knew, of course,
+that, as a professor, I was no good. I had come to the
+store, as all professors go to book stores, just as a
+wasp comes to an open jar of marmalade. He knew that I
+would hang around for two hours, get in everybody's way,
+and finally buy a cheap reprint of the Dialogues of Plato,
+or the Prose Works of John Milton, or Locke on the Human
+Understanding, or some trash of that sort.
+
+As for real taste in literature--the ability to appreciate
+at its worth a dollar-fifty novel of last month, in a
+spring jacket with a tango frontispiece--I hadn't got it
+and he knew it.
+
+He despised me, of course. But it is a maxim of the book
+business that a professor standing up in a corner buried
+in a book looks well in a store. The real customers like
+it.
+
+So it was that even so up-to-date a manager as Mr. Sellyer
+tolerated my presence in a back corner of his store: and
+so it was that I had an opportunity of noting something
+of his methods with his real customers--methods so
+successful, I may say, that he is rightly looked upon by
+all the publishing business as one of the mainstays of
+literature in America.
+
+I had no intention of standing in the place and listening
+as a spy. In fact, to tell the truth, I had become
+immediately interested in a new translation of the Moral
+Discourses of Epictetus. The book was very neatly printed,
+quite well bound and was offered at eighteen cents; so
+that for the moment I was strongly tempted to buy it,
+though it seemed best to take a dip into it first.
+
+I had hardly read more than the first three chapters when
+my attention was diverted by a conversation going on in
+the front of the store.
+
+"You're quite sure it's his LATEST?" a fashionably dressed
+lady was saying to Mr. Sellyer.
+
+"Oh, yes, Mrs. Rasselyer," answered the manager. "I assure
+you this is his very latest.  In fact, they only came in
+yesterday."
+
+As he spoke, he indicated with his hand a huge pile of
+books, gayly jacketed in white and blue. I could make
+out the title in big gilt lettering--GOLDEN DREAMS.
+
+"Oh, yes," repeated Mr. Sellyer. "This is Mr. Slush's
+latest book. It's having a wonderful sale."
+
+"That's all right, then," said the lady. "You see, one
+sometimes gets taken in so: I came in here last week and
+took two that seemed very nice, and I never noticed till
+I got home that they were both old books, published, I
+think, six months ago."
+
+"Oh, dear me, Mrs. Rasselyer," said the manager in an
+apologetic tone, "I'm extremely sorry. Pray let us send
+for them and exchange them for you."
+
+"Oh, it does not matter," said the lady; "of course I
+didn't read them. I gave them to my maid. She probably
+wouldn't know the difference, anyway."
+
+"I suppose not," said Mr. Sellyer, with a condescending
+smile. "But of course, madam," he went on, falling into
+the easy chat of the fashionable bookman, "such mistakes
+are bound to happen sometimes. We had a very painful case
+only yesterday. One of our oldest customers came in in
+a great hurry to buy books to take on the steamer, and
+before we realised what he had done--selecting the books
+I suppose merely by the titles, as some gentlemen are
+apt to do--he had taken two of last year's books. We
+wired at once to the steamer, but I'm afraid it's too
+late."
+
+"But now, this book," said the lady, idly turning over
+the leaves, "is it good? What is it about?"
+
+"It's an extremely POWERFUL thing," said Mr. Sellyer,
+"in fact, MASTERLY. The critics are saying that it's
+perhaps THE most powerful book of the season. It has a--"
+and here Mr. Sellyer paused, and somehow his manner
+reminded me of my own when I am explaining to a university
+class something that I don't know myself--"It has
+a--a--POWER, so to speak--a very exceptional power; in
+fact, one may say without exaggeration it is the most
+POWERFUL book of the month. Indeed," he added, getting
+on to easier ground, "it's having a perfectly wonderful
+sale."
+
+"You seem to have a great many of them," said the lady.
+
+"Oh, we have to," answered the manager.  "There's a
+regular rush on the book. Indeed, you know it's a book
+that is bound to make a sensation. In fact, in certain
+quarters, they are saying that it's a book that ought
+not to--" And here Mr. Sellyer's voice became so low and
+ingratiating that I couldn't hear the rest of the sentence.
+
+"Oh, really!" said Mrs. Rasselyer. "Well, I think I'll
+take it then. One ought to see what these talked-of things
+are about, anyway."
+
+She had already begun to button her gloves, and to readjust
+her feather boa with which she had been knocking the
+Easter cards off the counter. Then she suddenly remembered
+something.
+
+"Oh, I was forgetting," she said. "Will you send something
+to the house for Mr. Rasselyer at the same time? He's
+going down to Virginia for the vacation. You know the
+kind of thing he likes, do you not?"
+
+"Oh, perfectly, madam," said the manager.  "Mr. Rasselyer
+generally reads works of--er--I think he buys mostly
+books on--er--"
+
+"Oh, travel and that sort of thing," said the lady.
+
+"Precisely. I think we have here," and he pointed to the
+counter on the left, "what Mr. Rasselyer wants."
+
+He indicated a row of handsome books--"Seven Weeks in
+the Sahara, seven dollars; Six Months in a Waggon,
+six-fifty net; Afternoons in an Oxcart, two volumes,
+four-thirty, with twenty off."
+
+"I think he has read those," said Mrs. Rasselyer.  "At
+least there are a good many at home that seem like that."
+
+"Oh, very possibly--but here, now, Among the Cannibals
+of Corfu--yes, that I think he has had--Among the--that,
+too, I think--but this I am certain he would like, just
+in this morning--Among the Monkeys of New Guinea--ten
+dollars, net."
+
+And with this Mr. Sellyer laid his hand on a pile of new
+books, apparently as numerous as the huge pile of Golden
+Dreams.
+
+"Among the Monkeys," he repeated, almost caressingly.
+
+"It seems rather expensive," said the lady.
+
+"Oh, very much so--a most expensive book," the manager
+repeated in a tone of enthusiasm.  "You see, Mrs. Rasselyer,
+it's the illustrations, actual photographs"--he ran the
+leaves over in his fingers--"of actual monkeys, taken
+with the camera--and the paper, you notice--in fact,
+madam, the book costs, the mere manufacture of it, nine
+dollars and ninety cents--of course we make no profit
+on it. But it's a book we like to handle."
+
+Everybody likes to be taken into the details of technical
+business; and of course everybody likes to know that a
+bookseller is losing money.  These, I realised, were two
+axioms in the methods of Mr. Sellyer.
+
+So very naturally Mrs. Rasselyer bought Among the Monkeys,
+and in another moment Mr. Sellyer was directing a clerk
+to write down an address on Fifth Avenue, and was bowing
+deeply as he showed the lady out of the door.
+
+As he turned back to his counter his manner seemed much
+changed.
+
+"That Monkey book," I heard him murmur to his assistant,
+"is going to be a pretty stiff proposition."
+
+But he had no time for further speculation.
+
+Another lady entered.
+
+This time even to an eye less trained than Mr. Sellyer's,
+the deep, expensive mourning and the pensive face proclaimed
+the sentimental widow.
+
+"Something new in fiction," repeated the manager, "yes,
+madam--here's a charming thing--Golden Dreams"--he hung
+lovingly on the words--"a very sweet story, singularly
+sweet; in fact, madam, the critics are saying it is the
+sweetest thing that Mr. Slush has done."
+
+"Is it good?" said the lady. I began to realise that all
+customers asked this.
+
+"A charming book," said the manager. "It's a love
+story--very simple and sweet, yet wonderfully charming.
+Indeed, the reviews say it's the most charming book of
+the month. My wife was reading it aloud only last night.
+She could hardly read for tears."
+
+"I suppose it's quite a safe book, is it?" asked the
+widow. "I want it for my little daughter."
+
+"Oh, quite safe," said Mr. Sellyer, with an almost parental
+tone, "in fact, written quite in the old style, like the
+dear old books of the past--quite like"--here Mr. Sellyer
+paused with a certain slight haze of doubt visible in
+his eye--"like Dickens and Fielding and Sterne and so
+on. We sell a great many to the clergy, madam."
+
+The lady bought Golden Dreams, received it wrapped up in
+green enamelled paper, and passed out.
+
+"Have you any good light reading for vacation time?"
+called out the next customer in a loud, breezy voice--he
+had the air of a stock broker starting on a holiday.
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Sellyer, and his face almost broke into
+a laugh as he answered, "here's an excellent thing--Golden
+Dreams--quite the most humorous book of the season--simply
+screaming--my wife was reading it aloud only yesterday.
+She could hardly read for laughing."
+
+"What's the price, one dollar? One-fifty.  All right,
+wrap it up." There was a clink of money on the counter,
+and the customer was gone. I began to see exactly where
+professors and college people who want copies of Epictetus
+at 18 cents and sections of World Reprints of Literature
+at 12 cents a section come in, in the book trade.
+
+"Yes, Judge!" said the manager to the next customer, a
+huge, dignified personage in a wide-awake hat, "sea
+stories? Certainly. Excellent reading, no doubt, when
+the brain is overcharged as yours must be. Here is the
+very latest--Among the Monkeys of New Guinea, ten dollars,
+reduced to four-fifty. The manufacture alone costs
+six-eighty. We're selling it out. Thank you, Judge. Send
+it? Yes. Good morning."
+
+After that the customers came and went in a string. I
+noticed that though the store was filled with books--ten
+thousand of them, at a guess--Mr. Sellyer was apparently
+only selling two. Every woman who entered went away with
+Golden Dreams: every man was given a copy of the Monkeys
+of New Guinea. To one lady Golden Dreams was sold as
+exactly the reading for a holiday, to another as the very
+book to read AFTER a holiday; another bought it as a book
+for a rainy day, and a fourth as the right sort of reading
+for a fine day. The Monkeys was sold as a sea story, a
+land story, a story of the jungle, and a story of the
+mountains, and it was put at a price corresponding to
+Mr. Sellyer's estimate of the purchaser.
+
+At last after a busy two hours, the store grew empty for
+a moment.
+
+"Wilfred," said Mr. Sellyer, turning to his chief assistant,
+"I am going out to lunch. Keep those two books running
+as hard as you can.  We'll try them for another day and
+then cut them right out. And I'll drop round to Dockem
+& Discount, the publishers, and make a kick about them,
+and see what they'll do."
+
+I felt that I had lingered long enough. I drew near with
+the Epictetus in my hand.
+
+"Yes, sir," said Mr. Sellyer, professional again in a
+moment. "Epictetus? A charming thing. Eighteen cents.
+Thank you. Perhaps we have some other things there that
+might interest you. We have a few second-hand things in
+the alcove there that you might care to look at. There's
+an Aristotle, two volumes--a very fine thing--practically
+illegible, that you might like: and a Cicero came in
+yesterday--very choice--damaged by damp--and I think we
+have a Machiavelli, quite exceptional--practically torn
+to pieces, and the covers gone--a very rare old thing,
+sir, if you're an expert."
+
+"No, thanks," I said. And then from a curiosity that had
+been growing in me and that I couldn't resist, "That
+book--Golden Dreams," I said, "you seem to think it a
+very wonderful work?"
+
+Mr. Sellyer directed one of his shrewd glances at me. He
+knew I didn't want to buy the book, and perhaps, like
+lesser people, he had his off moments of confidence.
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"A bad business," he said. "The publishers have unloaded
+the thing on us, and we have to do what we can. They're
+stuck with it, I understand, and they look to us to help
+them.  They're advertising it largely and may pull it
+off. Of course, there's just a chance. One can't tell.
+It's just possible we may get the church people down on
+it and if so we're all right. But short of that we'll
+never make it.  I imagine it's perfectly rotten."
+
+"Haven't you read it?" I asked.
+
+"Dear me, no!" said the manager. His air was that of a
+milkman who is offered a glass of his own milk. "A pretty
+time I'd have if I tried to READ the new books. It's
+quite enough to keep track of them without that."
+
+"But those people," I went on, deeply perplexed, "who
+bought the book. Won't they be disappointed?"
+
+Mr. Sellyer shook his head. "Oh, no," he said; "you see,
+they won't READ it. They never do."
+
+"But at any rate," I insisted, "your wife thought it a
+fine story."
+
+Mr. Sellyer smiled widely.
+
+"I am not married, sir," he said.
+
+
+
+AFTERNOON ADVENTURES AT MY CLUB
+
+
+1.--The Anecdotes of Dr. So and So
+
+That is not really his name. I merely call him that from
+his manner of talking.
+
+His specialty is telling me short anecdotes of his
+professional life from day to day.
+
+They are told with wonderful dash and power, except for
+one slight omission, which is, that you never know what
+the doctor is talking about. Beyond this, his little
+stories are of unsurpassed interest--but let me illustrate.
+
+. . . . . . .
+
+He came into the semi-silence room of the club the other
+day and sat down beside me.
+
+"Have something or other?" he said.
+
+"No, thanks," I answered.
+
+"Smoke anything?" he asked.
+
+"No, thanks."
+
+The doctor turned to me. He evidently wanted to talk.
+
+"I've been having a rather peculiar experience," he said.
+"Man came to me the other day--three or four weeks ago--and
+said, 'Doctor, I feel out of sorts. I believe I've got
+so and so.' 'Ah,' I said, taking a look at him, 'been
+eating so and so, eh?' 'Yes,' he said.  'Very good,' I
+said, 'take so and so.'
+
+"Well, off the fellow went--I thought nothing of it--simply
+wrote such and such in my note-book, such and such a
+date, symptoms such and such--prescribed such and such,
+and so forth, you understand?"
+
+"Oh, yes, perfectly, doctor," I answered.
+
+"Very good. Three days later--a ring at the bell in the
+evening--my servant came to the surgery. 'Mr. So and So
+is here. Very anxious to see you.' 'All right!' I went
+down.  There he was, with every symptom of so and so
+written all over him--every symptom of it--this and this
+and this--"
+
+"Awful symptoms, doctor," I said, shaking my head.
+
+"Are they not?" he said, quite unaware that he hadn't
+named any. "There he was with every symptom, heart so
+and so, eyes so and so, pulse this--I looked at him right
+in the eye and I said--'Do you want me to tell you the
+truth?' 'Yes,' he said. 'Very good,' I answered, 'I will.
+You've got so and so.' He fell back as if shot. 'So and
+so!' he repeated, dazed. I went to the sideboard and
+poured him out a drink of such and such. 'Drink this,'
+I said. He drank it. 'Now,' I said, 'listen to what I
+say: You've got so and so. There's only one chance,' I
+said, 'you must limit your eating and drinking to such
+and such, you must sleep such and such, avoid every form
+of such and such--I'll give you a cordial, so many drops
+every so long, but mind you, unless you do so and so, it
+won't help you.' 'All right, very good.' Fellow promised.
+Off he went."
+
+The doctor paused a minute and then resumed:
+
+"Would you believe it--two nights later, I saw the
+fellow--after the theatre, in a restaurant--whole party
+of people--big plate of so and so in front of him--quart
+bottle of so and so on ice--such and such and so forth.
+I stepped over to him--tapped him on the shoulder:  'See
+here,' I said, 'if you won't obey my instructions, you
+can't expect me to treat you.' I walked out of the place."
+
+"And what happened to him?" I asked.
+
+"Died," said the doctor, in a satisfied tone.  "Died.
+I've just been filling in the certificate:  So and so,
+aged such and such, died of so and so!"
+
+"An awful disease," I murmured.
+
+
+
+2.--The Shattered Health of Mr. Podge
+
+"How are you, Podge?" I said, as I sat down in a leather
+armchair beside him.
+
+I only meant "How-do-you-do?" but he rolled his big eyes
+sideways at me in his flabby face (it was easier than
+moving his face) and he answered:
+
+"I'm not as well to-day as I was yesterday afternoon.
+Last week I was feeling pretty good part of the time,
+but yesterday about four o'clock the air turned humid,
+and I don't feel so well."
+
+"Have a cigarette?" I said.
+
+"No, thanks; I find they affect the bronchial toobes."
+
+"Whose?" I asked.
+
+"Mine," he answered.
+
+"Oh, yes," I said, and I lighted one. "So you find the
+weather trying," I continued cheerfully.
+
+"Yes, it's too humid. It's up to a saturation of sixty-six.
+I'm all right till it passes sixty-four. Yesterday
+afternoon it was only about sixty-one, and I felt fine.
+But after that it went up. I guess it must be a contraction
+of the epidermis pressing on some of the sebaceous glands,
+don't you?"
+
+"I'm sure it is," I said. "But why don't you just sleep
+it off till it's over?"
+
+"I don't like to sleep too much," he answered.  "I'm
+afraid of it developing into hypersomnia. There are cases
+where it's been known to grow into a sort of lethargy
+that pretty well stops all brain action altogether--"
+
+"That would be too bad," I murmured.  "What do you do to
+prevent it?"
+
+"I generally drink from half to three-quarters of a cup
+of black coffee, or nearly black, every morning at from
+eleven to five minutes past, so as to keep off hypersomnia.
+It's the best thing, the doctor says."
+
+"Aren't you afraid," I said, "of its keeping you awake?"
+
+"I am," answered Podge, and a spasm passed over his big
+yellow face. "I'm always afraid of insomnia. That's the
+worst thing of all. The other night I went to bed about
+half-past ten, or twenty-five minutes after,--I forget
+which,--and I simply couldn't sleep. I couldn't. I read
+a magazine story, and I still couldn't; and I read another,
+and still I couldn't sleep. It scared me bad."
+
+"Oh, pshaw," I said; "I don't think sleep matters as long
+as one eats properly and has a good appetite."
+
+He shook his head very dubiously. "I ate a plate of soup
+at lunch," he said, "and I feel it still."
+
+"You FEEL it!"
+
+"Yes," repeated Podge, rolling his eyes sideways in a
+pathetic fashion that he had, "I still feel it. I oughtn't
+to have eaten it. It was some sort of a bean soup, and
+of course it was full of nitrogen. I oughtn't to touch
+nitrogen," he added, shaking his head.
+
+"Not take any nitrogen?" I repeated.
+
+"No, the doctor--both doctors--have told me that. I can
+eat starches, and albumens, all right, but I have to keep
+right away from all carbons and nitrogens. I've been
+dieting that way for two years, except that now and again
+I take a little glucose or phosphates."
+
+"That must be a nice change," I said, cheerfully.
+
+"It is," he answered in a grateful sort of tone.
+
+There was a pause. I looked at his big twitching face,
+and listened to the heavy wheezing of his breath, and I
+felt sorry for him.
+
+"See here, Podge," I said, "I want to give you some good
+advice."
+
+"About what?"
+
+"About your health."
+
+"Yes, yes, do," he said. Advice about his health was
+right in his line. He lived on it.
+
+"Well, then, cut out all this fool business of diet and
+drugs and nitrogen. Don't bother about anything of the
+sort. Forget it. Eat everything you want to, just when
+you want it. Drink all you like. Smoke all you can--and
+you'll feel a new man in a week."
+
+"Say, do you think so!" he panted, his eyes filled with
+a new light.
+
+"I know it," I answered. And as I left him I shook hands
+with a warm feeling about my heart of being a benefactor
+to the human race.
+
+Next day, sure enough, Podge's usual chair at the club
+was empty.
+
+"Out getting some decent exercise," I thought. "Thank
+Heaven!"
+
+Nor did he come the next day, nor the next, nor for a
+week.
+
+"Leading a rational life at last," I thought.  "Out in
+the open getting a little air and sunlight, instead of
+sitting here howling about his stomach."
+
+The day after that I saw Dr. Slyder in black clothes
+glide into the club in that peculiar manner of his, like
+an amateur undertaker.
+
+"Hullo, Slyder," I called to him, "you look as solemn as
+if you had been to a funeral."
+
+"I have," he said very quietly, and then added, "poor
+Podge!"
+
+"What about him?" I asked with sudden apprehension.
+
+"Why, he died on Tuesday," answered the doctor. "Hadn't
+you heard? Strangest case I've known in years. Came home
+suddenly one day, pitched all his medicines down the
+kitchen sink, ordered a couple of cases of champagne and
+two hundred havanas, and had his housekeeper cook a dinner
+like a Roman banquet! After being under treatment for
+two years! Lived, you know, on the narrowest margin
+conceivable. I told him and Silk told him--we all told
+him--his only chance was to keep away from every form of
+nitrogenous ultra-stimulants. I said to him often, 'Podge,
+if you touch heavy carbonized food, you're lost.'"
+
+"Dear me," I thought to myself, "there ARE such things
+after all!"
+
+"It was a marvel," continued Slyder, "that we kept him
+alive at all. And, of course"--here the doctor paused
+to ring the bell to order two Manhattan cocktails--"as
+soon as he touched alcohol he was done."
+
+So that was the end of the valetudinarianism of Mr. Podge.
+
+I have always considered that I killed him.
+
+But anyway, he was a nuisance at the club.
+
+
+
+3.--The Amazing Travels of Mr. Yarner
+
+There was no fault to be found with Mr. Yarner till he
+made his trip around the world.
+
+It was that, I think, which disturbed his brain and
+unfitted him for membership in the club.
+
+"Well," he would say, as he sat ponderously down with
+the air of a man opening an interesting conversation, "I
+was just figuring it out that eleven months ago to-day
+I was in Pekin."
+
+"That's odd," I said, "I was just reckoning that eleven
+days ago I was in Poughkeepsie."
+
+"They don't call it Pekin over there," he said. "It's
+sounded Pei-Chang."
+
+"I know," I said, "it's the same way with Poughkeepsie,
+they pronounce it P'Keepsie."
+
+"The Chinese," he went on musingly, "are a strange people."
+
+"So are the people in P'Keepsie," I added, "awfully
+strange."
+
+That kind of retort would sometimes stop him, but not
+always. He was especially dangerous if he was found with
+a newspaper in his hand; because that meant that some
+item of foreign intelligence had gone to his brain.
+
+Not that I should have objected to Yarner describing his
+travels. Any man who has bought a ticket round the world
+and paid for it, is entitled to that.
+
+But it was his manner of discussion that I considered
+unpermissible.
+
+Last week, for example, in an unguarded moment I fell a
+victim. I had been guilty of the imprudence--I forget in
+what connection--of speaking of lions. I realized at
+once that I had done wrong--lions, giraffes, elephants,
+rickshaws and natives of all brands, are topics to avoid
+in talking with a traveller.
+
+"Speaking of lions," began Yarner.
+
+He was right, of course; I HAD spoken of lions.
+
+"--I shall never forget," he went on (of course, I knew
+he never would), "a rather bad scrape I got into in the
+up-country of Uganda.  Imagine yourself in a wild, rolling
+country covered here and there with kwas along the sides
+of the nullahs."
+
+I did so.
+
+"Well," continued Yarner, "we were sitting in our tent
+one hot night--too hot to sleep--when all at once we
+heard, not ten feet in front of us, the most terrific
+roar that ever came from the throat of a lion."
+
+As he said this Yarner paused to take a gulp of bubbling
+whiskey and soda and looked at me so ferociously that I
+actually shivered.
+
+Then quite suddenly his manner cooled down in the strangest
+way, and his voice changed to a commonplace tone as he
+said,--
+
+"Perhaps I ought to explain that we hadn't come up to
+the up-country looking for big game.  In fact, we had
+been down in the down country with no idea of going higher
+than Mombasa.  Indeed, our going even to Mombasa itself
+was more or less an afterthought. Our first plan was to
+strike across from Aden to Singapore.  But our second
+plan was to strike direct from Colombo to Karuchi--"
+
+"And what was your THIRD plan?" I asked.
+
+"Our third plan," said Yarner deliberately, feeling that
+the talk was now getting really interesting, "let me see,
+our third plan was to cut across from Socotra to
+Tananarivo."
+
+"Oh, yes," I said.
+
+"However, all that was changed, and changed under the
+strangest circumstances.  We were sitting, Gallon and I,
+on the piazza of the Galle Face Hotel in Colombo--you
+know the Galle Face?"
+
+"No, I do not," I said very positively.
+
+"Very good. Well, I was sitting on the piazza watching
+a snake charmer who was seated, with a boa, immediately
+in front of me.
+
+"Poor Gallon was actually within two feet of the hideous
+reptile. All of a sudden the beast whirled itself into
+a coil, its eyes fastened with hideous malignity on poor
+Gallon, and with its head erect it emitted the most awful
+hiss I have heard proceed from the mouth of any living
+snake."
+
+Here Yarner paused and took a long, hissing drink of
+whiskey and soda: and then as the malignity died out of
+his face--
+
+"I should explain," he went on, very quietly, "that Gallon
+was not one of our original party.  We had come down to
+Colombo from Mongolia, going by the Pekin Hankow and the
+Nippon Yushen Keisha."
+
+"That, I suppose, is the best way?" I said.
+
+"Yes. And oddly enough but for the accident of Gallon
+joining us, we should have gone by the Amoy, Cochin,
+Singapore route, which was our first plan. In fact, but
+for Gallon we should hardly have got through China at
+all.  The Boxer insurrection had taken place only fourteen
+years before our visit, so you can imagine the awful
+state of the country.
+
+"Our meeting with Gallon was thus absolutely providential.
+Looking back on it, I think it perhaps saved our lives.
+We were in Mongolia (this, you understand, was before we
+reached China), and had spent the night at a small Yak
+about four versts from Kharbin, when all of a sudden,
+just outside the miserable hut that we were in, we heard
+a perfect fusillade of shots followed immediately afterwards
+by one of the most blood-curdling and terrifying screams
+I have ever imagined--"
+
+"Oh, yes," I said, "and that was how you met Gallon.
+Well, I must be off."
+
+And as I happened at that very moment to be rescued by
+an incoming friend, who took but little interest in lions,
+and even less in Yarner, I have still to learn why the
+lion howled so when it met Yarner. But surely the lion
+had reason enough.
+
+
+4.--The Spiritual Outlook of Mr. Doomer
+
+One generally saw old Mr. Doomer looking gloomily out of
+the windows of the library of the club. If not there, he
+was to be found staring sadly into the embers of a dying
+fire in a deserted sitting-room.
+
+His gloom always appeared out of place as he was one of
+the richest of the members.
+
+But the cause of it,--as I came to know,--was that he
+was perpetually concerned with thinking about the next
+world. In fact he spent his whole time brooding over it.
+
+I discovered this accidentally by happening to speak to
+him of the recent death of Podge, one of our fellow
+members.
+
+"Very sad," I said, "Podge's death."
+
+"Ah," returned Mr. Doomer, "very shocking.  He was quite
+unprepared to die."
+
+"Do you think so?" I said, "I'm awfully sorry to hear
+it."
+
+"Quite unprepared," he answered. "I had reason to know
+it as one of his executors,--everything is
+confusion,--nothing signed,--no proper power of
+attorney,--codicils drawn up in blank and never
+witnessed,--in short, sir, no sense apparently of the
+nearness of his death and of his duty to be prepared.
+
+"I suppose," I said, "poor Podge didn't realise that he
+was going to die."
+
+"Ah, that's just it," resumed Mr. Doomer with something
+like sternness, "a man OUGHT to realise it. Every man
+ought to feel that at any moment,--one can't tell when,--day
+or night,--he may be called upon to meet his,"--Mr.
+Doomer paused here as if seeking a phrase--"to meet his
+Financial Obligations, face to face. At any time, sir,
+he may be hurried before the Judge,--or rather his estate
+may be,--before the Judge of the probate court. It is
+a solemn thought, sir. And yet when I come here I see
+about me men laughing, talking, and playing billiards,
+as if there would never be a day when their estate would
+pass into the hands of their administrators and an account
+must be given of every cent."
+
+"But after all," I said, trying to fall in with his mood,
+"death and dissolution must come to all of us."
+
+"That's just it," he said solemnly. "They've dissolved
+the tobacco people, and they've dissolved the oil people
+and you can't tell whose turn it may be next."
+
+Mr. Doomer was silent a moment and then resumed, speaking
+in a tone of humility that was almost reverential.
+
+"And yet there is a certain preparedness for death, a
+certain fitness to die that we ought all to aim at. Any
+man can at least think solemnly of the Inheritance Tax,
+and reflect whether by a contract inter vivos drawn in
+blank he may not obtain redemption; any man if he thinks
+death is near may at least divest himself of his purely
+speculative securities and trust himself entirely to
+those gold bearing bonds of the great industrial
+corporations whose value will not readily diminish or
+pass away." Mr. Doomer was speaking with something like
+religious rapture.
+
+"And yet what does one see?" he continued.  "Men affected
+with fatal illness and men stricken in years occupied
+still with idle talk and amusements instead of reading
+the financial newspapers,--and at the last carried away
+with scarcely time perhaps to send for their brokers when
+it is already too late."
+
+"It is very sad," I said.
+
+"Very," he repeated, "and saddest of all, perhaps, is
+the sense of the irrevocability of death and the changes
+that must come after it."
+
+We were silent a moment.
+
+"You think of these things a great deal, Mr. Doomer?"
+I said.
+
+"I do," he answered. "It may be that it is something in
+my temperament, I suppose one would call it a sort of
+spiritual mindedness.  But I think of it all constantly.
+Often as I stand here beside the window and see these
+cars go by"--he indicated a passing street car--"I cannot
+but realise that the time will come when I am no longer
+a managing director and wonder whether they will keep on
+trying to hold the dividend down by improving the rolling
+stock or will declare profits to inflate the securities.
+These mysteries beyond the grave fascinate me, sir. Death
+is a mysterious thing.  Who for example will take my seat
+on the Exchange? What will happen to my majority control
+of the power company? I shudder to think of the changes
+that may happen after death in the assessment of my real
+estate."
+
+"Yes," I said, "it is all beyond our control, isn't it?"
+
+"Quite," answered Mr. Doomer; "especially of late years
+one feels that, all said and done, we are in the hands
+of a Higher Power, and that the State Legislature is
+after all supreme.  It gives one a sense of smallness.
+It makes one feel that in these days of drastic legislation
+with all one's efforts the individual is lost and absorbed
+in the controlling power of the state legislature. Consider
+the words that are used in the text of the Income Tax
+Case, Folio Two, or the text of the Trans-Missouri Freight
+Decision, and think of the revelation they contain."
+
+I left Mr. Doomer still standing beside the window, musing
+on the vanity of life and on things, such as the future
+control of freight rates, that lay beyond the grave.
+
+I noticed as I left him how broken and aged he had come
+to look. It seemed as if the chafings of the spirit were
+wearing the body that harboured it.
+
+It was about a month later that I learned of Mr. Doomer's
+death.
+
+Dr. Slyder told me of it in the club one afternoon, over
+two cocktails in the sitting-room.
+
+"A beautiful bedside," he said, "one of the most edifying
+that I have ever attended. I knew that Doomer was failing
+and of course the time came when I had to tell him.
+
+"'Mr. Doomer,' I said, 'all that I, all that any medical
+can do for you is done; you are going to die. I have to
+warn you that it is time for other ministrations than
+mine.'
+
+"'Very good,' he said faintly but firmly, 'send for my
+broker.'
+
+"They sent out and fetched Jarvis,--you know him I
+think,--most sympathetic man and yet most business-like--he
+does all the firm's business with the dying,--and we two
+sat beside Doomer holding him up while he signed stock
+transfers and blank certificates.
+
+"Once he paused and turned his eyes on Jarvis.  'Read me
+from the text of the State Inheritance Tax Statute,' he
+said. Jarvis took the book and read aloud very quietly
+and simply the part at the beginning--'Whenever and
+wheresoever it shall appear,' down to the words, 'shall
+be no longer a subject of judgment or appeal but shall
+remain in perpetual possession.'
+
+"Doomer listened with his eyes closed. The reading seemed
+to bring him great comfort.  When Jarvis ended he said
+with a sign, 'That covers it. I'll put my faith in that.'
+After that he was silent a moment and then said: 'I wish
+I had already crossed the river. Oh, to have already
+crossed the river and be safe on the other side.' We knew
+what he meant. He had always planned to move over to New
+Jersey.  The inheritance tax is so much more liberal.
+
+"Presently it was all done.
+
+"'There,' I said, 'it is finished now.'
+
+"'No,' he answered, 'there is still one thing.  Doctor,
+you've been very good to me. I should like to pay your
+account now without it being a charge on the estate. I
+will pay it as'--he paused for a moment and a fit of
+coughing seized him, but by an effort of will he found
+the power to say--'cash.'
+
+"I took the account from my pocket (I had it with me,
+fearing the worst), and we laid his cheque-book before
+him on the bed. Jarvis thinking him too faint to write
+tried to guide his hand as he filled in the sum. But he
+shook his head.
+
+"'The room is getting dim,' he said. 'I can see nothing
+but the figures.'
+
+"'Never mind,' said Jarvis,--much moved, 'that's enough.'
+
+"'Is it four hundred and thirty?' he asked faintly.
+
+"'Yes,' I said, and I could feel the tears rising in my
+eyes, 'and fifty cents.'
+
+"After signing the cheque his mind wandered for a moment
+and he fell to talking, with his eyes closed, of the new
+federal banking law, and of the prospect of the reserve
+associations being able to maintain an adequate gold
+supply.
+
+"Just at the last he rallied.
+
+"'I want,' he said in quite a firm voice, 'to do something
+for both of you before I die.'
+
+"'Yes, yes,' we said.
+
+"'You are both interested, are you not,' he murmured,
+'in City Traction?'
+
+"'Yes, yes,' we said. We knew of course that he was the
+managing director.
+
+"He looked at us faintly and tried to speak.
+
+"'Give him a cordial,' said Jarvis. But he found his
+voice.
+
+"'The value of that stock,' he said, 'is going to take
+a sudden--'
+
+"His voice grew faint.
+
+"'Yes, yes,' I whispered, bending over him (there were
+tears in both our eyes), 'tell me is it going up, or
+going down?'
+
+"'It is going'--he murmured,--then his eyes closed--'it
+is going--'
+
+"'Yes, yes,' I said, 'which?'
+
+"'It is going'--he repeated feebly and then, quite suddenly
+he fell back on the pillows and his soul passed. And we
+never knew which way it was going. It was very sad. Later
+on, of course, after he was dead, we knew, as everybody
+knew, that it went down."
+
+
+
+5.--The Reminiscences of Mr. Apricot
+
+"Rather a cold day, isn't it?" I said as I entered the
+club.
+
+The man I addressed popped his head out from behind a
+newspaper and I saw it was old Mr. Apricot. So I was
+sorry that I had spoken.
+
+"Not so cold as the winter of 1866," he said, beaming
+with benevolence.
+
+He had an egg-shaped head, bald, with some white hair
+fluffed about the sides of it. He had a pink face with
+large blue eyes, behind his spectacles, benevolent to
+the verge of imbecility.
+
+"Was that a cold winter?" I asked.
+
+"Bitter cold," he said. "I have never told you, have I,
+of my early experiences in life?"
+
+"I think I have heard you mention them," I murmured, but
+he had already placed a detaining hand on my sleeve. "Sit
+down," he said.  Then he continued: "Yes, it was a cold
+winter.  I was going to say that it was the coldest I
+have ever experienced, but that might be an exaggeration.
+But it was certainly colder than any winter that YOU have
+ever seen, or that we ever have now, or are likely to
+have. In fact the winters NOW are a mere nothing,"--here
+Mr. Apricot looked toward the club window where the driven
+snow was beating in eddies against the panes,--"simply
+nothing. One doesn't feel them at all,"--here he turned
+his eyes towards the glowing fire that flamed in the open
+fireplace. "But when I was a boy things were very different.
+I have probably never mentioned to you, have I, the
+circumstances of my early life?"
+
+He had, many times. But he had turned upon me the full
+beam of his benevolent spectacles and I was too weak to
+interrupt.
+
+"My father," went on Mr. Apricot, settling back in his
+chair and speaking with a far-away look in his eyes, "had
+settled on the banks of the Wabash River--"
+
+"Oh, yes, I know it well," I interjected.
+
+"Not as it was THEN," said Mr. Apricot very quickly. "At
+present as you, or any other thoughtless tourist sees
+it, it appears a broad river pouring its vast flood in
+all directions.  At the time I speak of it was a mere
+stream scarcely more than a few feet in circumference.
+The life we led there was one of rugged isolation and of
+sturdy self-reliance and effort such as it is, of course,
+quite impossible for YOU, or any other member of this
+club to understand,--I may give you some idea of what
+I mean when I say that at that time there was no town
+nearer to Pittsburgh than Chicago, or to St. Paul than
+Minneapolis--"
+
+"Impossible!" I said.
+
+Mr. Apricot seemed not to notice the interruption.
+
+"There was no place nearer to Springfield than St. Louis,"
+he went on in a peculiar singsong voice, "and there was
+nothing nearer to Denver than San Francisco, nor to New
+Orleans than Rio Janeiro--"
+
+He seemed as if he would go on indefinitely.
+
+"You were speaking of your father?" I interrupted.
+
+"My father," said Mr. Apricot, "had settled on the banks,
+both banks, of the Wabash.  He was like so many other
+men of his time, a disbanded soldier, a veteran--"
+
+"Of the Mexican War or of the Civil War?" I asked.
+
+"Exactly," answered Mr. Apricot, hardly heeding the
+question,--"of the Mexican Civil War."
+
+"Was he under Lincoln?" I asked.
+
+"OVER Lincoln," corrected Mr. Apricot gravely. And he
+added,--"It is always strange to me the way in which the
+present generation regards Abraham Lincoln. To us, of
+course, at the time of which I speak, Lincoln was simply
+one of ourselves."
+
+"In 1866?" I asked.
+
+"This was 1856," said Mr. Apricot. "He came often to my
+father's cabin, sitting down with us to our humble meal
+of potatoes and whiskey (we lived with a simplicity which
+of course you could not possibly understand), and would
+spend the evening talking with my father over the
+interpretation of the Constitution of the United States.
+We children used to stand beside them listening open-mouthed
+beside the fire in our plain leather night-gowns. I shall
+never forget how I was thrilled when I first heard Lincoln
+lay down his famous theory of the territorial jurisdiction
+of Congress as affected by the Supreme Court decision of
+1857.  I was only nine years old at the time, but it
+thrilled me!"
+
+"Is it possible!" I exclaimed, "how ever could you
+understand it?"
+
+"Ah! my friend," said Mr. Apricot, almost sadly, "in
+THOSE days the youth of the United States were EDUCATED
+in the real sense of the word. We children followed the
+decisions of the Supreme Court with breathless interest.
+Our books were few but they were GOOD. We had nothing to
+read but the law reports, the agriculture reports, the
+weather bulletins and the almanacs. But we read them
+carefully from cover to cover. How few boys have the
+industry to do so now, and yet how many of our greatest
+men were educated on practically nothing else except the
+law reports and the almanacs.  Franklin, Jefferson,
+Jackson, Johnson,"--Mr. Apricot had relapsed into his
+sing-song voice, and his eye had a sort of misty perplexity
+in it as he went on,--"Harrison, Thomson, Peterson,
+Emerson--"
+
+I thought it better to stop him.
+
+"But you were speaking," I said, "of the winter of eighteen
+fifty-six."
+
+"Of eighteen forty-six," corrected Mr. Apricot.  "I shall
+never forget it. How distinctly I remember,--I was only
+a boy then, in fact a mere lad,--fighting my way to
+school. The snow lay in some places as deep as ten feet"--
+Mr. Apricot paused--"and in others twenty.  But we made
+our way to school in spite of it.  No boys of to-day,--nor,
+for the matter of that, even men such as you,--would
+think of attempting it. But we were keen, anxious to
+learn. Our school was our delight. Our teacher was our
+friend. Our books were our companions. We gladly trudged
+five miles to school every morning and seven miles back
+at night, did chores till midnight, studied algebra by
+candlelight"--here Mr. Apricot's voice had fallen into
+its characteristic sing-song, and his eyes were
+vacant--"rose before daylight, dressed by lamplight, fed
+the hogs by lantern-light, fetched the cows by twilight--"
+
+I thought it best to stop him.
+
+"But you did eventually get off the farm, did you not?"
+I asked.
+
+"Yes," he answered, "my opportunity presently came to me
+as it came in those days to any boy of industry and
+intelligence who knocked at the door of fortune till it
+opened.  I shall never forget how my first chance in life
+came to me. A man, an entire stranger, struck no doubt
+with the fact that I looked industrious and willing,
+offered me a dollar to drive a load of tan bark to the
+nearest market--"
+
+"Where was that?" I asked.
+
+"Minneapolis, seven hundred miles. But I did it. I shall
+never forget my feelings when I found myself in Minneapolis
+with one dollar in my pocket and with the world all before
+me."
+
+"What did you do?" I said.
+
+"First," said Mr. Apricot, "I laid out seventy-five cents
+for a suit of clothes (things were cheap in those days);
+for fifty cents I bought an overcoat, for twenty-five I
+got a hat, for ten cents a pair of boots, and with the
+rest of my money I took a room for a month with a Swedish
+family, paid a month's board with a German family, arranged
+to have my washing done by an Irish family, and--"
+
+"But surely, Mr. Apricot--" I began.
+
+But at this point the young man who is generally in
+attendance on old Mr. Apricot when he comes to the club,
+appeared on the scene.
+
+"I am afraid," he said to me aside as Mr. Apricot was
+gathering up his newspapers and his belongings, "that my
+uncle has been rather boring you with his reminiscences."
+
+"Not at all," I said, "he's been telling me all about
+his early life in his father's cabin on the Wabash--"
+
+"I was afraid so," said the young man. "Too bad. You see
+he wasn't really there at all."
+
+"Not there!" I said.
+
+"No. He only fancies that he was. He was brought up in
+New York, and has never been west of Philadelphia. In
+fact he has been very well to do all his life. But he
+found that it counted against him: it hurt him in politics.
+So he got into the way of talking about the Middle West
+and early days there, and sometimes he forgets that he
+wasn't there."
+
+"I see," I said.
+
+Meantime Mr. Apricot was ready.
+
+"Good-bye, good-bye," he said very cheerily,--"A delightful
+chat. We must have another talk over old times soon. I
+must tell you about my first trip over the Plains at the
+time when I was surveying the line of the Union Pacific.
+You who travel nowadays in your Pullman coaches and
+observation cars can have no idea--"
+
+"Come along, uncle," said the young man.
+
+
+
+6.--The Last Man out of Europe
+
+He came into the club and shook hands with me as if he
+hadn't seen me for a year. In reality I had seen him only
+eleven months ago, and hadn't thought of him since.
+
+"How are you, Parkins?" I said in a guarded tone, for I
+saw at once that there was something special in his
+manner.
+
+"Have a cig?" he said as he sat down on the edge of an
+arm-chair, dangling his little boot.
+
+Any young man who calls a cigarette a "cig" I despise.
+"No, thanks," I said.
+
+"Try one," he went on, "they're Hungarian.  They're some
+I managed to bring through with me out of the war zone."
+
+As he said "war zone," his face twisted up into a sort
+of scowl of self-importance.
+
+I looked at Parkins more closely and I noticed that he
+had on some sort of foolish little coat, short in the
+back, and the kind of bow-tie that they wear in the
+Hungarian bands of the Sixth Avenue restaurants.
+
+Then I knew what the trouble was. He was the last man
+out of Europe, that is to say, the latest last man. There
+had been about fourteen others in the club that same
+afternoon. In fact they were sitting all over it in
+Italian suits and Viennese overcoats, striking German
+matches on the soles of Dutch boots. These were the "war
+zone" men and they had just got out "in the clothes they
+stood up in." Naturally they hated to change.
+
+So I knew all that this young man, Parkins, was going to
+say, and all about his adventures before he began.
+
+"Yes," he said, "we were caught right in the war zone.
+By Jove, I never want to go through again what I went
+through."
+
+With that, he sank back into the chair in the pose of a
+man musing in silence over the recollection of days of
+horror.
+
+I let him muse. In fact I determined to let him muse till
+he burst before I would ask him what he had been through.
+I knew it, anyway.
+
+Presently he decided to go on talking.
+
+"We were at Izzl," he said, "in the Carpathians, Loo
+Jones and I. We'd just made a walking tour from Izzl to
+Fryzzl and back again."
+
+"Why did you come back?" I asked.
+
+"Back where?"
+
+"Back to Izzl," I explained, "after you'd once got to
+Fryzzl. It seems unnecessary, but, never mind, go on."
+
+"That was in July," he continued. "There wasn't a sign
+of war, not a sign. We heard that Russia was beginning
+to mobilize," (at this word be blew a puff from his
+cigarette and then repeated "beginning to mobilize") "but
+we thought nothing of it."
+
+"Of course not," I said.
+
+"Then we heard that Hungary was calling out the Honveds,
+but we still thought nothing of it."
+
+"Certainly not," I said.
+
+"And then we heard--"
+
+"Yes, I know," I said, "you heard that Italy was calling
+out the Trombonari, and that Germany was calling in all
+the Landesgeschutzshaft."
+
+He looked at me.
+
+"How did you know that?" he said.
+
+"We heard it over here," I answered.
+
+"Well," he went on, "next thing we knew we heard that
+the Russians were at Fryzzl."
+
+"Great Heavens!" I exclaimed.
+
+"Yes, at Fryzzl, not a hundred miles away.  The very
+place we'd been at only two weeks before."
+
+"Think of it!" I said. "If you'd been where you were two
+weeks after you were there, or if the Russians had been
+a hundred miles away from where they were, or even if
+Fryzzl had been a hundred miles nearer to Izzl--"
+
+We both shuddered.
+
+"It was a close call," said Parkins. "However, I said to
+Loo Jones, 'Loo, it's time to clear out.' And then, I
+tell you, our trouble began. First of all we couldn't
+get any money.  We went to the bank at Izzl and tried to
+get them to give us American dollars for Hungarian paper
+money; we had nothing else."
+
+"And wouldn't they?"
+
+"Absolutely refused. They said they hadn't any."
+
+"By George," I exclaimed. "Isn't war dreadful? What on
+earth did you do?"
+
+"Took a chance," said Parkins. "Went across to the railway
+station to buy our tickets with the Hungarian money."
+
+"Did you get them?" I said.
+
+"Yes," assented Parkins. "They said they'd sell us tickets.
+But they questioned us mighty closely; asked where we
+wanted to go to, what class we meant to travel by, how
+much luggage we had to register and so on. I tell you
+the fellow looked at us mighty closely."
+
+"Were you in those clothes?" I asked.
+
+"Yes," said Parkins, "but I guess he suspected we weren't
+Hungarians. You see, we couldn't either of us speak
+Hungarian. In fact we spoke nothing but English."
+
+"That would give him a clue," I said.
+
+"However," he went on, "he was civil enough in a way. We
+asked when was the next train to the sea coast, and he
+said there wasn't any."
+
+"No trains?" I repeated.
+
+"Not to the coast. The man said the reason was because
+there wasn't any railway to the coast. But he offered to
+sell us tickets to Vienna. We asked when the train would
+go and he said there wouldn't be one for two hours. So
+there we were waiting on that wretched little platform,--no
+place to sit down, no shade, unless one went into the
+waiting room itself,--for two mortal hours. And even then
+the train was an hour and a half late!"
+
+"An hour and a half late!" I repeated.
+
+"Yep!" said Parkins, "that's what things were like over
+there. So when we got on board the train we asked a man
+when it was due to get to Vienna, and he said he hadn't
+the faintest idea!"
+
+"Good heavens!"
+
+"Not the faintest idea. He told us to ask the conductor
+or one of the porters. No, sir, I'll never forget that
+journey through to Vienna,--nine mortal hours! Nothing
+to eat, not a bite, except just in the middle of the day
+when they managed to hitch on a dining-car for a while.
+And they warned everybody that the dining-car was only
+on for an hour and a half. Commandeered, I guess after
+that," added Parkins, puffing his cigarette.
+
+"Well," he continued, "we got to Vienna at last. I'll
+never forget the scene there, station full of people,
+trains coming and going, men, even women, buying tickets,
+big piles of luggage being shoved on trucks. It gave one
+a great idea of the reality of things."
+
+"It must have," I said.
+
+"Poor old Loo Jones was getting pretty well used up with
+it all. However, we determined to see it through somehow."
+
+"What did you do next?"
+
+"Tried again to get money: couldn't--they changed our
+Hungarian paper into Italian gold, but they refused to
+give us American money."
+
+"Hoarding it?" I hinted.
+
+"Exactly," said Parkins, "hoarding it all for the war.
+Well anyhow we got on a train for Italy and there our
+troubles began all over again:--train stopped at the
+frontier,--officials (fellows in Italian uniforms) went
+all through it, opening hand baggage--"
+
+"Not hand baggage!" I gasped.
+
+"Yes, sir, even the hand baggage. Opened it all, or a
+lot of it anyway, and scribbled chalk marks over it. Yes,
+and worse than that,--I saw them take two fellows and
+sling them clear off the train,--they slung them right
+out on to the platform."
+
+"What for?" I asked.
+
+"Heaven knows," said Parkins,--"they said they had no
+tickets. In war time you know, when they're mobilizing,
+they won't let a soul ride on a train without a ticket."
+
+"Infernal tyranny," I murmured.
+
+"Isn't it? However, we got to Genoa at last, only to find
+that not a single one of our trunks had come with us!"
+
+"Confiscated?" I asked.
+
+"I don't know," said Parkins, "the head baggage man (he
+wears a uniform, you know, in Italy just like a soldier)
+said it was because we'd forgotten to check them in
+Vienna. However there we were waiting for twenty-four
+hours with nothing but our valises."
+
+"Right at the station?" I asked.
+
+"No, at a hotel. We got the trunks later.  They telegraphed
+to Vienna for them and managed to get them through
+somehow,--in a baggage car, I believe."
+
+"And after that, I suppose, you had no more trouble."
+
+"Trouble," said Parkins, "I should say we had. Couldn't
+get a steamer! They said there was none sailing out of
+Genoa for New York for three days! All cancelled, I guess,
+or else rigged up as cruisers."
+
+"What on earth did you do?"
+
+"Stuck it out as best we could: stayed right there in
+the hotel. Poor old Jones was pretty well collapsed!
+Couldn't do anything but sleep and eat, and sit on the
+piazza of the hotel."
+
+"But you got your steamer at last?" I asked.
+
+"Yes," he admitted, "we got it. But I never want to go
+through another voyage like that again, no sir!"
+
+"What was wrong with it?" I asked, "bad weather?"
+
+"No, calm, but a peculiar calm, glassy, with little
+ripples on the water,--uncanny sort of feeling."
+
+"What was wrong with the voyage?"
+
+"Oh, just the feeling of it,--everything under strict
+rule you know--no lights anywhere except just the electric
+lights,--smoking-room closed tight at eleven o'clock,--decks
+all washed down every night--officers up on the bridge
+all day looking out over the sea,--no, sir, I want no
+more of it. Poor old Loo Jones, I guess he's quite used
+up: he can't speak of it at all: just sits and broods,
+in fact I doubt..."
+
+At this moment Parkins's conversation was interrupted by
+the entry of two newcomers into the room. One of them
+had on a little Hungarian suit like the one Parkins wore,
+and was talking loudly as they came in.
+
+"Yes," he was saying, "we were caught there fair and
+square right in the war zone. We were at Izzl in the
+Carpathians, poor old Parkins and I--"
+
+We looked round.
+
+It was Loo Jones, describing his escape from Europe.
+
+
+
+7.--The War Mania of Mr. Jinks and Mr. Blinks
+
+They were sitting face to face at a lunch table at the
+club so near to me that I couldn't avoid hearing what
+they said. In any case they are both stout men with
+gurgling voices which carry.
+
+"What Kitchener ought to do,"--Jinks was saying in a loud
+voice.
+
+So I knew at once that he had the prevailing hallucination.
+He thought he was commanding armies in Europe.
+
+After which I watched him show with three bits of bread
+and two olives and a dessert knife the way in which the
+German army could be destroyed.
+
+Blinks looked at Jinks' diagram with a stern impassive
+face, modelled on the Sunday supplement photogravures of
+Lord Kitchener.
+
+"Your flank would be too much exposed," he said, pointing
+to Jinks' bread. He spoke with the hard taciturnity of
+a Joffre.
+
+"My reserves cover it," said Jinks, moving two pepper
+pots to the support of the bread.
+
+"Mind you," Jinks went on, "I don't say Kitchener WILL
+do this: I say this is what he OUGHT to do: it's exactly
+the tactics of Kuropatkin outside of Mukden and it's
+precisely the same turning movement that Grant used before
+Richmond."
+
+Blinks nodded gravely. Anybody who has seen the Grand
+Duke Nicholoevitch quietly accepting the advice of General
+Ruski under heavy artillery fire, will realize Blinks'
+manner to a nicety.
+
+And, oddly enough, neither of them, I am certain, has
+ever had any larger ideas about the history of the Civil
+War than what can be got from reading Uncle Tom's Cabin
+and seeing Gillette play Secret Service. But this is part
+of the mania. Jinks and Blinks had suddenly developed
+the hallucination that they knew the history of all wars
+by a sort of instinct.
+
+They rose soon after that, dusted off their waistcoats
+with their napkins and waddled heavily towards the door.
+I could hear them as they went talking eagerly of the
+need of keeping the troops in hard training. They were
+almost brutal in their severity. As they passed out of
+the door,--one at a time to avoid crowding,--they were
+still talking about it. Jinks was saying that our whole
+generation is overfed and soft. If he had his way he
+would take every man in the United States up to forty-
+seven years of age (Jinks is forty-eight) and train him
+to a shadow. Blinks went further.  He said they should
+be trained hard up to fifty. He is fifty-one.
+
+After that I used to notice Jinks and Blinks always
+together in the club, and always carrying on the European
+War.
+
+I never knew which side they were on. They seemed to be
+on both. One day they commanded huge armies of Russians,
+and there was one week when Blinks and Jinks at the head
+of vast levies of Cossacks threatened to overrun the
+whole of Western Europe. It was dreadful to watch them
+burning churches and monasteries and to see Jinks throw
+whole convents full of white robed nuns into the flames
+like so much waste paper.
+
+For a time I feared they would obliterate civilization
+itself. Then suddenly Blinks decided that Jinks' Cossacks
+were no good, not properly trained. He converted himself
+on the spot into a Prussian Field Marshal, declared
+himself organised to a pitch of organisation of which
+Jinks could form no idea, and swept Jinks' army off the
+earth, without using any men at all, by sheer organisation.
+
+In this way they moved to and fro all winter over the
+map of Europe, carrying death and destruction everywhere
+and revelling in it.
+
+But I think I liked best the wild excitement of their
+naval battles.
+
+Jinks generally fancied himself a submarine and Blinks
+acted the part of a first-class battleship. Jinks would
+pop his periscope out of the water, take a look at Blinks
+merely for the fraction of a second, and then, like a
+flash, would dive under water again and start firing his
+torpedoes. He explained that he carried six.
+
+But he was never quick enough for Blinks.  One glimpse
+of his periscope miles and miles away was enough. Blinks
+landed him a contact shell in the side, sunk him with
+all hands, and then lined his yards with men and cheered.
+I have known Blinks sink Jinks at two miles, six miles--and
+once--in the club billiard room just after the battle of
+the Falkland Islands,--he got him fair and square at
+ten nautical miles.
+
+Jinks of course claimed that he was not sunk.  He had
+dived. He was two hundred feet under water quietly smiling
+at Blinks through his periscope. In fact the number of
+things that Jinks has learned to do through his periscope
+passes imagination.
+
+Whenever I see him looking across at Blinks with his eyes
+half closed and with a baffling, quizzical expression in
+them, I know that he is looking at him through his
+periscope.  Now is the time for Blinks to watch out. If
+he relaxes his vigilance for a moment he'll be torpedoed
+as he sits, and sent flying, whiskey and soda and all,
+through the roof of the club, while Jinks dives into the
+basement.
+
+Indeed it has come about of late, I don't know just how,
+that Jinks has more or less got command of the sea. A
+sort of tacit understanding has been reached that Blinks,
+whichever army he happens at the moment to command, is
+invincible on land. But Jinks, whether as a submarine or
+a battleship, controls the sea. No doubt this grew up in
+the natural evolution of their conversation. It makes
+things easier for both. Jinks even asks Blinks how many
+men there are in an army division, and what a sotnia of
+Cossacks is and what the Army Service Corps means. And
+Jinks in return has become a recognized expert in torpedoes
+and has taken to wearing a blue serge suit and referring
+to Lord Beresford as Charley.
+
+But what I noticed chiefly about the war mania of Jinks
+and Blinks was their splendid indifference to slaughter.
+They had gone into the war with a grim resolution to
+fight it out to a finish. If Blinks thought to terrify
+Jinks by threatening to burn London, he little knew his
+man. "All right," said Jinks, taking a fresh light for
+his cigar, "burn it! By doing so, you destroy, let us
+say, two million of my women and children? Very good. Am
+I injured by that? No. You merely stimulate me to
+recruiting."
+
+There was something awful in the grimness of the struggle
+as carried on by Blinks and Jinks.
+
+The rights of neutrals and non-combatants, Red Cross
+nurses, and regimental clergymen they laughed to scorn.
+As for moving-picture men and newspaper correspondents,
+Jinks and Blinks hanged them on every tree in Belgium
+and Poland.
+
+With combatants in this frame of mind the war I suppose
+might have lasted forever.
+
+But it came to an end accidentally,--fortuitously, as
+all great wars are apt to. And by accident also, I happened
+to see the end of it.
+
+It was late one evening. Jinks and Blinks were coming
+down the steps of the club, and as they came they were
+speaking with some vehemence on their favourite topic.
+
+"I tell you," Jinks was saying, "war is a great thing.
+We needed it, Blinks. We were all getting too soft, too
+scared of suffering and pain. We wilt at a bayonet charge,
+we shudder at the thought of wounds. Bah!" he continued,
+"what does it matter if a few hundred thousands of human
+beings are cut to pieces.  We need to get back again to
+the old Viking standard, the old pagan ideas of suffering--"
+
+And as he spoke he got it.
+
+The steps of the club were slippery with the evening's
+rain,--not so slippery as the frozen lakes of East Prussia
+or the hills where Jinks and Blinks had been campaigning
+all winter, but slippery enough for a stout man whose
+nation has neglected his training. As Jinks waved his
+stick in the air to illustrate the glory of a bayonet
+charge, he slipped and fell sideways on the stone steps.
+His shin bone smacked against the edge of the stone in
+a way that was pretty well up to the old Viking standard
+of such things. Blinks with the shock of the collision
+fell also,--backwards on the top step, his head striking
+first. He lay, to all appearance, as dead as the most
+insignificant casualty in Servia.
+
+I watched the waiters carrying them into the club, with
+that new field ambulance attitude towards pain which is
+getting so popular. They had evidently acquired precisely
+the old pagan attitude that Blinks and Jinks desired.
+
+And the evening after that I saw Blinks and Jinks, both
+more or less bandaged, sitting in a corner of the club
+beneath a rubber tree, making peace.
+
+Jinks was moving out of Montenegro and Blinks was foregoing
+all claims to Polish Prussia; Jinks was offering
+Alsace-Lorraine to Blinks, and Blinks in a fit of chivalrous
+enthusiasm was refusing to take it. They were disbanding
+troops, blowing up fortresses, sinking their warships
+and offering indemnities which they both refused to take.
+Then as they talked, Jinks leaned forward and said
+something to Blinks in a low voice,--a final proposal of
+terms evidently.
+
+Blinks nodded, and Jinks turned and beckoned to a waiter,
+with the words,--
+
+"One Scotch whiskey and soda, and one stein of Wurtemburger
+Bier--"
+
+And when I heard this, I knew that the war was over.
+
+
+
+8.--The Ground Floor
+
+I hadn't seen Ellesworth since our college days, twenty
+years before, at the time when he used to borrow two
+dollars and a half from the professor of Public Finance
+to tide him over the week end.
+
+Then quite suddenly he turned up at the club one day and
+had afternoon tea with me.
+
+His big clean shaven face had lost nothing of its
+impressiveness, and his spectacles had the same glittering
+magnetism as in the days when he used to get the college
+bursar to accept his note of hand for his fees.
+
+And he was still talking European politics just as he
+used to in the days of our earlier acquaintance.
+
+"Mark my words," he said across the little tea-table,
+with one of the most piercing glances I have ever seen,
+"the whole Balkan situation was only a beginning. We are
+on the eve of a great pan-Slavonic upheaval." And then
+he added, in a very quiet, casual tone: "By the way,
+could you let me have twenty-five dollars till to-morrow?"
+
+"A pan-Slavonic movement!" I ejaculated.  "Do you really
+think it possible? No, I couldn't."
+
+"You must remember," Ellesworth went on, "Russia means
+to reach out and take all she can get;" and he added,
+"how about fifteen till Friday?"
+
+"She may reach for it," I said, "but I doubt if she'll
+get anything. I'm sorry. I haven't got it."
+
+"You're forgetting the Bulgarian element," he continued,
+his animation just as eager as before. "The Slavs never
+forget what they owe to one another."
+
+Here Ellesworth drank a sip of tea and then said quietly,
+"Could you make it ten till Saturday at twelve?"
+
+I looked at him more closely. I noticed now his frayed
+cuffs and the dinginess of his over-brushed clothes. Not
+even the magnetism of his spectacles could conceal it.
+Perhaps I had been forgetting something, whether the
+Bulgarian element or not.
+
+I compromised at ten dollars till Saturday.
+
+"The Slav," said Ellesworth, as he pocketed the money,
+"is peculiar. He never forgets."
+
+"What are you doing now?" I asked him.  "Are you still
+in insurance?" I had a vague recollection of him as
+employed in that business.
+
+"No," he answered. "I gave it up. I didn't like the
+outlook. It was too narrow. The atmosphere cramped me.
+I want," he said, "a bigger horizon."
+
+"Quite so," I answered quietly. I had known men before
+who had lost their jobs. It is generally the cramping of
+the atmosphere that does it. Some of them can use up a
+tremendous lot of horizon.
+
+"At present," Ellesworth went on, "I am in finance. I'm
+promoting companies."
+
+"Oh, yes," I said. I had seen companies promoted before.
+
+"Just now," continued Ellesworth, "I'm working on a thing
+that I think will be rather a big thing. I shouldn't want
+it talked about outside, but it's a matter of taking hold
+of the cod fisheries of the Grand Banks,--practically
+amalgamating them--and perhaps combining with them the
+entire herring output, and the whole of the sardine catch
+of the Mediterranean.  If it goes through," he added, "I
+shall be in a position to let you in on the ground floor."
+
+I knew the ground floor of old. I have already many
+friends sitting on it; and others who have fallen through
+it into the basement.
+
+I said, "thank you," and he left me.
+
+"That was Ellesworth, wasn't it?" said a friend of mine
+who was near me. "Poor devil.  I knew him slightly,--always
+full of some new and wild idea of making money. He was
+talking to me the other day of the possibility of cornering
+all the huckleberry crop and making refined sugar. Isn't
+it amazing what fool ideas fellows like him are always
+putting up to business men?"
+
+We both laughed.
+
+After that I didn't see Ellesworth for some weeks.
+
+Then I met him in the club again. How he paid his fees
+there I do not know.
+
+This time he was seated among a litter of foreign newspapers
+with a cup of tea and a ten-cent package of cigarettes
+beside him.
+
+"Have one of these cigarettes," he said. "I get them
+specially. They are milder than what we have in the club
+here."
+
+They certainly were.
+
+"Note what I say," Ellesworth went on.  "The French
+Republic is going to gain from now on a stability that
+it never had." He seemed greatly excited about it. But
+his voice changed to a quiet tone as he added, "Could
+you, without inconvenience, let me have five dollars?"
+
+So I knew that the cod-fish and the sardines were still
+unamalgamated.
+
+"What about the fisheries thing?" I asked.  "Did it go
+through?"
+
+"The fisheries? No, I gave it up. I refused to go forward
+with it. The New York people concerned were too shy, too
+timid to tackle it. I finally had to put it to them very
+straight that they must either stop shilly-shallying and
+declare themselves, or the whole business was off."
+
+"Did they declare themselves?" I questioned.
+
+"They did," said Ellesworth, "but I don't regret it. I'm
+working now on a much bigger thing,--something with
+greater possibilities in it. When the right moment comes
+I'll let you in on the ground floor."
+
+I thanked him and we parted.
+
+The next time I saw Ellesworth he told me at once that
+he regarded Albania as unable to stand by itself. So I
+gave him five dollars on the spot and left him.
+
+A few days after that he called me up on the telephone
+to tell me that the whole of Asia Minor would have to be
+redistributed. The redistribution cost me five dollars
+more.
+
+Then I met him on the street, and he said that Persia
+was disintegrating, and took from me a dollar and a half.
+
+When I passed him next in the street he was very busy
+amalgamating Chinese tramways. It appeared that there
+was a ground floor in China, but I kept off it.
+
+Each time I saw Ellesworth he looked a little shabbier
+than the last. Then one day he called me up on the
+telephone, and made an appointment.
+
+His manner when I joined him was full of importance.
+
+"I want you at once," he said in a commanding tone, "to
+write me your cheque for a hundred dollars."
+
+"What's the matter?" I asked.
+
+"I am now able," said Ellesworth, "to put you in on the
+ground floor of one of the biggest things in years."
+
+"Thanks," I said, "the ground floor is no place for me."
+
+"Don't misunderstand me," said Ellesworth.  "This is a
+big thing. It's an idea I've been working on for some
+time,--making refined sugar from the huckleberry crop.
+It's a certainty.  I can get you shares now at five
+dollars. They'll go to five hundred when we put them on
+the market,--and I can run you in for a block of stock
+for promotion services as well.  All you have to do is
+to give me right now a hundred dollars,--cash or your
+cheque,--and I can arrange the whole thing for you."
+
+I smiled.
+
+"My dear Ellesworth," I said, "I hope you won't mind if
+I give you a little bit of good advice. Why not drop all
+this idea of quick money? There's nothing in it. The
+business world has grown too shrewd for it. Take an
+ordinary decent job and stick to it. Let me use my
+influence," I added, "to try and get you into something
+with a steady salary, and with your brains you're bound
+to get on in time."
+
+Ellesworth looked pained. A "steady job" sounded to him
+like a "ground floor" to me.
+
+After that I saw nothing of him for weeks.  But I didn't
+forget him. I looked about and secured for him a job as
+a canvassing agent for a book firm at a salary of five
+dollars a week, and a commission of one-tenth of one per
+cent.
+
+I was waiting to tell him of his good luck, when I chanced
+to see him at the club again.
+
+But he looked transformed.
+
+He had on a long frock coat that reached nearly to his
+knees. He was leading a little procession of very heavy
+men in morning coats, upstairs towards the private luncheon
+rooms.  They moved like a funeral, puffing as they went.
+I had seen company directors before and I knew what they
+were at sight.
+
+"It's a small club and rather inconvenient," Ellesworth
+was saying, "and the horizon of some of its members rather
+narrow," here he nodded to me as he passed,--"but I can
+give you a fairly decent lunch."
+
+I watched them as they disappeared upstairs.
+
+"That's Ellesworth, isn't it?" said a man near me. It
+was the same man who had asked about him before.
+
+"Yes," I answered.
+
+"Giving a lunch to his directors, I suppose," said my
+friend; "lucky dog."
+
+"His directors?" I asked.
+
+"Yes, hadn't you heard? He's just cleaned up half a
+million or more,--some new scheme for making refined
+sugar out of huckleberries.  Isn't it amazing what shrewd
+ideas these big business men get hold of? They say they're
+unloading the stock at five hundred dollars. It only cost
+them about five to organize. If only one could get on to
+one of these things early enough, eh?"
+
+I assented sadly.
+
+And the next time I am offered a chance on the ground
+floor I am going to take it, even if it's only the barley
+floor of a brewery.
+
+It appears that there is such a place after all.
+
+
+
+9.--The Hallucination of Mr. Butt
+
+It is the hallucination of Mr. Butt's life that he lives
+to do good. At whatever cost of time or trouble to himself,
+he does it. Whether people appear to desire it or not,
+he insists on helping them along.
+
+His time, his company and his advice are at the service
+not only of those who seek them but of those who, in the
+mere appearances of things, are not asking for them.
+
+You may see the beaming face of Mr. Butt appear at the
+door of all those of his friends who are stricken with
+the minor troubles of life. Whenever Mr. Butt learns that
+any of his friends are moving house, buying furniture,
+selling furniture, looking for a maid, dismissing a maid,
+seeking a chauffeur, suing a plumber or buying a piano,--he
+is at their side in a moment.
+
+So when I met him one night in the cloak room of the club
+putting on his raincoat and his galoshes with a peculiar
+beaming look on his face, I knew that he was up to some
+sort of benevolence.
+
+"Come upstairs," I said, "and play billiards." I saw from
+his general appearance that it was a perfectly safe offer.
+
+"My dear fellow," said Mr. Butt, "I only wish I could.
+I wish I had the time. I am sure it would cheer you up
+immensely if I could.  But I'm just going out."
+
+"Where are you off to?" I asked, for I knew he wanted me
+to say it.
+
+"I'm going out to see the Everleigh-Joneses,--you know
+them? no?--just come to the city, you know, moving into
+their new house, out on Seldom Avenue."
+
+"But," I said, "that's away out in the suburbs, is it
+not, a mile or so beyond the car tracks?"
+
+"Something like that," answered Mr. Butt.
+
+"And it's going on for ten o'clock and it's starting to
+rain--"
+
+"Pooh, pooh," said Mr. Butt, cheerfully, adjusting his
+galoshes. "I never mind the rain,--does one good. As to
+their house. I've not been there yet but I can easily
+find it. I've a very simple system for finding a house
+at night by merely knocking at the doors in the neighborhood
+till I get it."
+
+"Isn't it rather late to go there?" I protested.
+
+"My dear fellow," said Mr. Butt warmly, "I don't mind
+that a bit. The way I look at it is, here are these two
+young people, only married a few weeks, just moving into
+their new house, everything probably upside down, no one
+there but themselves, no one to cheer them up,"--he was
+wriggling into his raincoat as he spoke and working
+himself into a frenzy of benevolence,--"good gracious,
+I only learned at dinner time that they had come to town,
+or I'd have been out there days ago,--days ago--"
+
+And with that Mr. Butt went bursting forth into the rain,
+his face shining with good will under the street lamps.
+
+The next day I saw him again at the club at lunch time.
+
+"Well," I asked, "did you find the Joneses?"
+
+"I did," said Mr. Butt, "and by George I was glad that
+I'd gone--quite a lot of trouble to find the house (though
+I didn't mind that; I expected it)--had to knock at twenty
+houses at least to get it,--very dark and wet out there,
+--no street lights yet,--however I simply pounded at the
+doors until some one showed a light--at every house I
+called out the same things, 'Do you know where the
+Everleigh Joneses live?' They didn't. 'All right,' I
+said, 'go back to bed. Don't bother to come down.'
+
+"But I got to the right spot at last. I found the house
+all dark. Jones put his head out of an upper window.
+'Hullo,' I called out; 'it's Butt.' 'I'm awfully sorry,'
+he said, 'we've gone to bed.' 'My dear boy,' I called
+back, 'don't apologize at all. Throw me down the key and
+I'll wait while you dress. I don't mind a bit.'
+
+"Just think of it," continued Mr. Butt, "those two poor
+souls going to bed at half past ten, through sheer
+dullness! By George, I was glad I'd come. 'Now then,' I
+said to myself, 'let's cheer them up a little, let's make
+things a little brighter here.'
+
+"Well, down they came and we sat there on furniture cases
+and things and had a chat.  Mrs. Jones wanted to make me
+some coffee.  'My dear girl,' I said (I knew them both
+when they were children) 'I absolutely refuse. Let ME
+make it.' They protested. I insisted. I went at it,--kitchen
+all upset--had to open at least twenty tins to get the
+coffee. However, I made it at last. 'Now,' I said, 'drink
+it.' They said they had some an hour or so ago. 'Nonsense,'
+I said, 'drink it.' Well, we sat and chatted away till
+midnight. They were dull at first and I had to do all
+the talking. But I set myself to it. I can talk, you
+know, when I try.  Presently about midnight they seemed
+to brighten up a little. Jones looked at his watch.  'By
+Jove,' he said, in an animated way, 'it's after midnight.'
+I think he was pleased at the way the evening was going;
+after that we chatted away more comfortably. Every little
+while Jones would say, 'By Jove, it's half past twelve,'
+or 'it's one o'clock,' and so on.
+
+"I took care, of course, not to stay too late.  But when
+I left them I promised that I'd come back to-day to help
+straighten things up. They protested, but I insisted."
+
+That same day Mr. Butt went out to the suburbs and put
+the Joneses' furniture to rights.
+
+"I worked all afternoon," he told me afterwards,--"hard
+at it with my coat off--got the pictures up first--they'd
+been trying to put them up by themselves in the morning.
+I had to take down every one of them--not a single one
+right,--'Down they come,' I said, and went at it with a
+will."
+
+A few days later Mr. Butt gave me a further report. "Yes,"
+he said, "the furniture is all unpacked and straightened
+out but I don't like it. There's a lot of it I don't
+quite like. I half feel like advising Jones to sell it
+and get some more. But I don't want to do that till I'm
+quite certain about it."
+
+After that Mr. Butt seemed much occupied and I didn't
+see him at the club for some time.
+
+"How about the Everleigh-Joneses?" I asked. "Are they
+comfortable in their new house?"
+
+Mr. Butt shook his head. "It won't do," he said. "I was
+afraid of it from the first. I'm moving Jones in nearer
+to town. I've been out all morning looking for an apartment;
+when I get the right one I shall move him. I like an
+apartment far better than a house."
+
+So the Joneses in due course of time were moved. After
+that Mr. Butt was very busy selecting a piano, and advising
+them on wall paper and woodwork.
+
+They were hardly settled in their new home when fresh
+trouble came to them.
+
+"Have you heard about Everleigh-Jones?" said Mr. Butt
+one day with an anxious face.
+
+"No," I answered.
+
+"He's ill--some sort of fever--poor chap--been ill three
+days, and they never told me or sent for me--just like
+their grit--meant to fight it out alone. I'm going out
+there at once."
+
+From day to day I had reports from Mr. Butt of the
+progress of Jones's illness.
+
+"I sit with him every day," he said. "Poor chap,--he was
+very bad yesterday for a while,--mind wandered--quite
+delirious--I could hear him from the next room--seemed
+to think some one was hunting him--'Is that damn old fool
+gone,' I heard him say.
+
+"I went in and soothed him. 'There is no one here, my
+dear boy,' I said, 'no one, only Butt.' He turned over
+and groaned. Mrs.  Jones begged me to leave him. 'You
+look quite used up,' she said. 'Go out into the open
+air.' 'My dear Mrs. Jones,' I said, 'what DOES it matter
+about me?'"
+
+Eventually, thanks no doubt to Mr. Butt's assiduous care,
+Everleigh-Jones got well.
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Butt to me a few weeks later, "Jones is
+all right again now, but his illness has been a long hard
+pull. I haven't had an evening to myself since it began.
+But I'm paid, sir, now, more than paid for anything I've
+done,--the gratitude of those two people--it's unbelievable
+--you ought to see it. Why do you know that dear little
+woman is so worried for fear that my strength has been
+overtaxed that she wants me to take a complete rest and
+go on a long trip somewhere--suggested first that I should
+go south. 'My dear Mrs. Jones,' I said laughing, 'that's
+the ONE place I will not go. Heat is the one thing I
+CAN'T stand.' She wasn't nonplussed for a moment.  'Then
+go north,' she said. 'Go up to Canada, or better still
+go to Labrador,'--and in a minute that kind little woman
+was hunting up railway maps to see how far north I could
+get by rail. 'After that,' she said, 'you can go on
+snowshoes.' She's found that there's a steamer to Ungava
+every spring and she wants me to run up there on one
+steamer and come back on the next."
+
+"It must be very gratifying," I said.
+
+"Oh, it is, it is," said Mr. Butt warmly. "It's well
+worth anything I do. It more than repays me. I'm alone
+in the world and my friends are all I have. I can't tell
+you how it goes to my heart when I think of all my friends,
+here in the club and in the town, always glad to see me,
+always protesting against my little kindnesses and yet
+never quite satisfied about anything unless they can get
+my advice and hear what I have to say.
+
+"Take Jones for instance," he continued--"do you know,
+really now as a fact,--the hall porter assures me of
+it,--every time Everleigh-Jones enters the club here
+the first thing he does is to sing out, 'Is Mr. Butt in
+the club?' It warms me to think of it." Mr. Butt paused,
+one would have said there were tears in his eyes. But if
+so the kindly beam of his spectacles shone through them
+like the sun through April rain. He left me and passed
+into the cloak room.
+
+He had just left the hall when a stranger entered, a
+narrow, meek man with a hunted face. He came in with a
+furtive step and looked about him apprehensively.
+
+"Is Mr. Butt in the club?" he whispered to the hall
+porter.
+
+"Yes, sir, he's just gone into the cloak room, sir, shall
+I--"
+
+But the man had turned and made a dive for the front door
+and had vanished.
+
+"Who is that?" I asked.
+
+"That's a new member, sir, Mr. Everleigh-Jones," said
+the hall porter.
+
+
+
+IV-Ram Spudd The New World Singer. Is He Divinely Inspired?
+Or Is He Not? At Any Rate We Discovered Him.
+
+[Footnote: Mr. Spudd was discovered by the author for
+the New York Life. He is already recognized as superior
+to Tennyson and second only, as a writer of imagination,
+to the Sultan of Turkey.]
+
+The discovery of a new poet is always a joy to the
+cultivated world.  It is therefore with the greatest
+pleasure that we are able to announce that we ourselves,
+acting quite independently and without aid from any of
+the English reviews of the day, have discovered one. In
+the person of Mr. Ram Spudd, of whose work we give
+specimens below, we feel that we reveal to our readers
+a genius of the first order. Unlike one of the most
+recently discovered English poets who is a Bengalee, and
+another who is a full-blooded Yak, Mr. Spudd is, we
+believe, a Navajo Indian. We believe this from the
+character of his verse.  Mr. Spudd himself we have not
+seen. But when he forwarded his poems to our office and
+offered with characteristic modesty to sell us his entire
+works for seventy-five cents, we felt in closing with
+his offer that we were dealing not only with a poet, but
+with one of nature's gentlemen.
+
+Mr. Spudd, we understand, has had no education. Other
+newly discovered poets have had, apparently, some. Mr.
+Spudd has had, evidently, none. We lay stress on this
+point.  Without it we claim it is impossible to understand
+his work.
+
+What we particularly like about Ram Spudd, and we do not
+say this because we discovered him but because we believe
+it and must say it, is that he belongs not to one school
+but to all of them. As a nature poet we doubt very much
+if he has his equal; as a psychologist, we are sure he
+has not. As a clear lucid thinker he is undoubtedly in
+the first rank; while as a mystic he is a long way in
+front of it. The specimens of Mr. Spudd's verse which we
+append herewith were selected, we are happy to assure
+our readers, purely at random from his work. We first
+blindfolded ourselves and then, standing with our feet
+in warm water and having one hand tied behind our back,
+we groped among the papers on our desk before us and
+selected for our purpose whatever specimens first came
+to hand.
+
+As we have said, or did we say it, it is perhaps as a
+nature poet that Ram Spudd excels.  Others of our modern
+school have carried the observation of natural objects
+to a high degree of very nice precision, but with Mr.
+Spudd the observation of nature becomes an almost scientific
+process. Nothing escapes him. The green of the grass he
+detects as in an instant. The sky is no sooner blue than
+he remarks it with unerring certainty. Every bird note,
+every bee call, is familiar to his trained ear. Perhaps
+we cannot do better than quote the opening lines of a
+singularly beautiful sample of Ram Spudd's genius which
+seems to us the last word in nature poetry. It is called,
+with characteristic daintiness--
+
+      SPRING THAW IN THE
+   AHUNTSIC WOODS, NEAR PASPEBIAC,
+      PASSAMOQUODDY COUNTY
+
+(We would like to say that, to our ears at least, there
+is a music in this title like the sound of falling water,
+or of chopped ice. But we must not interrupt ourselves.
+We now begin.  Listen.)
+
+ The thermometer is standing this morning at thirty-
+   three decimal one.
+ As a consequence it is freezing in the shade, but
+   it is thawing in the sun.
+ There is a certain amount of snow on the ground,
+   but of course not too much.
+ The air is what you would call humid, but not
+   disagreeable to the touch.
+ Where I am standing I find myself practically
+   surrounded by trees,
+ It is simply astonishing the number of the different
+   varieties one sees.
+ I've grown so wise I can tell each different tree
+   by seeing it glisten,
+ But if that test fails I simply put my ear to the
+   tree and listen,
+ And, well, I suppose it is only a silly fancy of
+   mine perhaps,
+ But do you know I'm getting to tell different trees
+   by the sound of their saps.
+ After I have noticed all the trees, and named those
+   I know in words,
+ I stand quite still and look all round to see if
+   there are any birds,
+ And yesterday, close where I was standing, sitting
+   in some brush on the snow,
+ I saw what I was practically absolutely certain was
+   an early crow.
+ I sneaked up ever so close and was nearly beside
+   it, when say!
+ It turned and took one look at me, and flew away.
+
+But we should not wish our readers to think that Ram
+Spudd is always and only the contemplative poet of the
+softer aspects of nature.  Oh, by no means. There are
+times when waves of passion sweep over him in such
+prodigious volume as to roll him to and fro like a pebble
+in the surf. Gusts of emotion blow over him with such
+violence as to hurl him pro and con with inconceivable
+fury. In such moods, if it were not for the relief offered
+by writing verse we really do not know what would happen
+to him. His verse written under the impulse of such
+emotions marks him as one of the greatest masters of
+passion, wild and yet restrained, objectionable and yet
+printable, that have appeared on this side of the Atlantic.
+We append herewith a portion, or half portion, of his
+little gem entitled
+
+   YOU
+
+   You!
+ With your warm, full, rich, red, ripe lips,
+ And your beautifully manicured finger-tips!
+   You!
+ With your heaving, panting, rapidly expanding and
+   contracting chest,
+ Lying against my perfectly ordinary shirt-front and
+   dinner-jacket vest.
+      It is too much
+      Your touch
+      As such.
+      It and
+      Your hand,
+   Can you not understand?
+ Last night an ostrich feather from your fragrant hair
+      Unnoticed fell.
+      I guard it
+      Well.
+      Yestere'en
+   From your tiara I have slid,
+      Unseen,
+      A single diamond,
+      And I keep it
+      Hid.
+ Last night you left inside the vestibule upon the sill
+      A quarter dollar,
+      And I have it
+      Still.
+
+But even those who know Ram Spudd as the poet of nature
+or of passion still only know a part of his genius. Some
+of his highest flights rise from an entirely different
+inspiration, and deal with the public affairs of the
+nation. They are in every sense comparable to the best
+work of the poets laureate of England dealing with similar
+themes. As soon as we had seen Ram Spudd's work of this
+kind, we cried, that is we said to our stenographer,
+"What a pity that in this republic we have no laureateship.
+Here is a man who might truly fill it." Of the poem of
+this kind we should wish to quote, if our limits of space
+did not prevent it, Mr. Spudd's exquisite
+
+   ODE ON THE REDUCTION OF THE
+      UNITED STATES TARIFF
+
+ It is a matter of the very gravest concern to at least
+   nine-tenths of the business interests in the
+   United States,
+ Whether an all-round reduction of the present tariff
+   either on an ad valorem or a specific basis
+ Could be effected without a serious disturbance of the
+   general industrial situation of the country.
+
+But, no, we must not quote any more. No we really mustn't.
+Yet we cannot refrain from inserting a reference to the
+latest of these laureate poems of Ram Spudd. It appears
+to us to be a matchless specimen of its class, and to
+settle once and for all the vexed question (though we
+ourselves never vexed it) of whether true poetry can deal
+with national occasions as they arise. It is entitled:
+
+   THE BANKER'S EUTHANASIA: OR,
+   THE FEDERAL RESERVE CURRENCY
+      ACT OF 1914,
+
+and, though we do not propose to reproduce it here, our
+distinct feeling is that it will take its rank beside
+Mr. Spudd's Elegy on the Interstate Commerce Act, and
+his Thoughts on the Proposal of a Uniform Pure Food Law.
+
+But our space does not allow us to present Ram Spudd in
+what is after all his greatest aspect, that of a profound
+psychologist, a questioner of the very meaning of life
+itself. His poem Death and Gloom, from which we must
+refrain from quoting at large, contains such striking
+passages as the following:
+
+   Why do I breathe, or do I?
+   What am I for, and whither do I go?
+   What skills it if I live, and if I die,
+      What boots it?
+
+Any one knowing Ram Spudd as we do will realize that
+these questions, especially the last, are practically
+unanswerable.
+
+
+
+V.--Aristocratic Anecdotes or Little Stories of Great
+People
+
+I have been much struck lately by the many excellent
+little anecdotes of celebrated people that have appeared
+in recent memoirs and found their way thence into the
+columns of the daily press. There is something about them
+so deliciously pointed, their humour is so exquisite,
+that I think we ought to have more of them. To this end
+I am trying to circulate on my own account a few anecdotes
+which seem somehow to have been overlooked.
+
+Here, for example, is an excellent thing which comes, if
+I remember rightly, from the vivacious Memoir of Lady
+Ranelagh de Chit Chat.
+
+
+ANECDOTE OF THE DUKE OF STRATHYTHAN
+
+Lady Ranelagh writes:
+
+ "The Duke of Strathythan (I am writing of course of the
+ seventeenth Duke, not of his present Grace) was, as
+ everybody knows, famous for his hospitality.  It was not
+ perhaps generally known that the Duke was as witty as he
+ was hospitable. I recall a most amusing incident that
+ happened the last time but two that I was staying at
+ Strathythan Towers. As we sat down to lunch (we were a
+ very small and intimate party, there being only forty-three
+ of us) the Duke, who was at the head of the table, looked
+ up from the roast of beef that he was carving, and running
+ his eye about the guests was heard to murmur, 'I'm afraid
+ there isn't enough beef to go round.'
+
+ "There was nothing to do, of course, but to roar with
+ laughter and the incident passed off with perfect savoir
+ faire."
+
+Here is another story which I think has not had all the
+publicity that it ought to. I found it in the book "Shot,
+Shell and Shrapnell or Sixty Years as a War Correspondent,"
+recently written by Mr. Maxim Catling whose exploits are
+familiar to all readers.
+
+
+ANECDOTE OF LORD KITCHENER
+
+ "I was standing," writes Mr. Maxim, "immediately between
+ Lord Kitchener and Lord Wolsley (with Lord Roberts a
+ little to the rear of us), and we were laughing and
+ chatting as we always did when the enemy were about to
+ open fire on us. Suddenly we found ourselves the object
+ of the most terrific hail of bullets. For a few moments
+ the air was black with them. As they went past I could
+ not refrain from exchanging a quiet smile with Lord
+ Kitchener, and another with Lord Wolsley. Indeed I have
+ never, except perhaps on twenty or thirty occasions,
+ found myself exposed to such an awful fusillade.
+
+ "Kitchener, who habitually uses an eye-glass (among his
+ friends), watched the bullets go singing by, and then,
+ with that inimitable sangfroid which he reserves for his
+ intimates, said,
+
+ "'I'm afraid if we stay here we may get hit.'
+
+ "We all moved away laughing heartily.
+
+ "To add to the joke, Lord Roberts' aide-de-camp was shot
+ in the pit of the stomach as we went."
+
+The next anecdote which I reproduce may be already too
+well known to my readers. The career of Baron Snorch
+filled so large a page in the history of European diplomacy
+that the publication of his recent memoirs was awaited
+with profound interest by half the chancelleries of
+Europe. (Even the other half were half excited over them.)
+The tangled skein in which the politics of Europe are
+enveloped was perhaps never better illustrated than in
+this fascinating volume. Even at the risk of repeating
+what is already familiar, I offer the following for what
+it is worth--or even less.
+
+
+NEW LIGHT ON THE LIFE OF CAVOUR
+
+ "I have always regarded Count Cavour," writes the Baron,
+ "as one of the most impenetrable diplomatists whom it
+ has been my lot to meet. I distinctly recall an incident
+ in connection with the famous Congress of Paris of 1856
+ which rises before my mind as vividly as if it were
+ yesterday. I was seated in one of the large salons of
+ the Elysee Palace (I often used to sit there) playing
+ vingt-et-un together with Count Cavour, the Duc de Magenta,
+ the Marquese di Casa Mombasa, the Conte di Piccolo Pochito
+ and others whose names I do not recollect. The stakes
+ had been, as usual, very high, and there was a large pile
+ of gold on the table. No one of us, however, paid any
+ attention to it, so absorbed were we all in the thought
+ of the momentous crises that were impending. At intervals
+ the Emperor Napoleon III passed in and out of the room,
+ and paused to say a word or two, with well-feigned
+ eloignement, to the players, who replied with such
+ degagement as they could.
+
+ "While the play was at its height a servant appeared with
+ a telegram on a silver tray. He handed it to Count Cavour.
+ The Count paused in his play, opened the telegram, read
+ it and then with the most inconceivable nonchalance, put
+ it in his pocket. We stared at him in amazement for a
+ moment, and then the Duc, with the infinite ease of a
+ trained diplomat, quietly resumed his play.
+
+ "Two days afterward, meeting Count Cavour at a reception
+ of the Empress Eugenie, I was able, unobserved, to whisper
+ in his ear, 'What was in the telegram?' 'Nothing of any
+ consequence,' he answered.  From that day to this I have
+ never known what it contained. My readers," concludes
+ Baron Snorch, "may believe this or not as they like, but
+ I give them my word that it is true.
+
+ "Probably they will not believe it."
+
+I cannot resist appending to these anecdotes a charming
+little story from that well-known book, "Sorrows of a
+Queen". The writer, Lady de Weary, was an English
+gentlewoman who was for many years Mistress of the Robes
+at one of the best known German courts. Her affection
+for her royal mistress is evident on every page of her
+memoirs.
+
+
+TENDERNESS OF A QUEEN
+
+Lady de W. writes:
+
+ "My dear mistress, the late Queen of Saxe-Covia-Slitz-
+ in-Mein, was of a most tender and sympathetic disposition.
+ The goodness of her heart broke forth on all occasions.
+ I well remember how one day, on seeing a cabman in the
+ Poodel Platz kicking his horse in the stomach, she stopped
+ in her walk and said, 'Oh, poor horse! if he goes on
+ kicking it like that he'll hurt it.'"
+
+I may say in conclusion that I think if people would only
+take a little more pains to resuscitate anecdotes of this
+sort, there might be a lot more of them found.
+
+
+
+VI.--Education Made Agreeable or the Diversions of a
+Professor
+
+A few days ago during a pause in one of my college lectures
+(my class being asleep) I sat reading Draper's "Intellectual
+Development of Europe".  Quite suddenly I came upon the
+following sentence:
+
+"Eratosthenes cast everything he wished to teach into
+poetry. By this means he made it attractive, and he was
+able to spread his system all over Asia Minor."
+
+This came to me with a shock of an intellectual discovery.
+I saw at once how I could spread my system, or parts of
+it, all over the United States and Canada. To make
+education attractive! There it is! To call in the help
+of poetry, of music, of grand opera, if need be, to aid
+in the teaching of the dry subjects of the college class
+room.
+
+I set to work at once on the project and already I have
+enough results to revolutionize education.
+
+In the first place I have compounded a blend of modern
+poetry and mathematics, which retains all the romance of
+the latter and loses none of the dry accuracy of the
+former. Here is an example:
+
+      The poem of
+   LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER
+      expressed as
+   A PROBLEM IN TRIGONOMETRY
+
+INTRODUCTION. A party of three persons, a Scotch nobleman,
+a young lady and an elderly boatman stand on the banks
+of a river (R), which, for private reasons, they desire
+to cross. Their only means of transport is a boat, of
+which the boatman, if squared, is able to row at a rate
+proportional to the square of the distance. The boat,
+however, has a leak (S), through which a quantity of
+water passes sufficient to sink it after traversing an
+indeterminate distance (D).  Given the square of the
+boatman and the mean situation of all concerned, to find
+whether the boat will pass the river safely or sink.
+
+   A chieftain to the Highlands bound
+      Cried "Boatman do not tarry!
+   And I'll give you a silver pound
+      To row me o'er the ferry."
+   Before them raged the angry tide
+   X**2 + Y from side to side.
+
+   Outspake the hardy Highland wight,
+      "I'll go, my chief, I'm ready;
+   It is not for your silver bright,
+      But for your winsome lady."
+   And yet he seemed to manifest
+      A certain hesitation;
+   His head was sunk upon his breast
+      In puzzled calculation.
+
+   "Suppose the river X + Y
+   And call the distance Q
+   Then dare we thus the gods defy
+   I think we dare, don't you?
+      Our floating power expressed in words
+      Is X + 47/3"
+
+   "Oh, haste thee, haste," the lady cries,
+   "Though tempests round us gather
+   I'll face the raging of the skies
+   But please cut out the Algebra."
+
+   The boat has left the stormy shore (S)
+   A stormy C before her
+   C1 C2 C3 C4
+   The tempest gathers o'er her
+      The thunder rolls, the lightning smites 'em
+      And the rain falls ad infinitum.
+
+   In vain the aged boatman strains,
+   His heaving sides reveal his pains;
+   The angry water gains apace
+   Both of his sides and half his base,
+      Till, as he sits, he seems to lose
+      The square of his hypotenuse.
+
+   The boat advanced to X + 2,
+   Lord Ullin reached the fixed point Q,--
+      Then the boat sank from human eye,
+   OY, OY**2, OGY.
+
+But this is only a sample of what can be done. I have
+realised that all our technical books are written and
+presented in too dry a fashion. They don't make the most
+of themselves.  Very often the situation implied is
+intensely sensational, and if set out after the fashion
+of an up-to-date newspaper, would be wonderfully effective.
+
+Here, for example, you have Euclid writing in a perfectly
+prosaic way all in small type such an item as the following:
+
+"A perpendicular is let fall on a line BC so as to bisect
+it at the point C etc., etc.," just as if it were the
+most ordinary occurrence in the world. Every newspaper
+man will see at once that it ought to be set up thus:
+
+      AWFUL CATASTROPHE
+   PERPENDICULAR FALLS HEADLONG
+      ON A GIVEN POINT
+
+   The Line at C said to be completely bisected
+   President of the Line makes Statement
+      etc., etc., etc.
+
+But I am not contenting myself with merely describing my
+system. I am putting it to the test. I am preparing a
+new and very special edition of my friend Professor Daniel
+Murray's work on the Calculus. This is a book little
+known to the general public. I suppose one may say without
+exaggeration that outside of the class room it is hardly
+read at all.
+
+Yet I venture to say that when my new edition is out it
+will be found on the tables of every cultivated home,
+and will be among the best sellers of the year. All that
+is needed is to give to this really monumental book the
+same chance that is given to every other work of fiction
+in the modern market.
+
+First of all I wrap it in what is called technically a
+jacket. This is of white enamelled paper, and on it is
+a picture of a girl, a very pretty girl, in a summer
+dress and sunbonnet sitting swinging on a bough of a
+cherry tree.  Across the cover in big black letters are
+the words:
+
+   THE CALCULUS
+
+and beneath them the legend "the most daring book of the
+day." This, you will observe, is perfectly true. The
+reviewers of the mathematical journals when this book
+first came out agreed that "Professor Murray's views on
+the Calculus were the most daring yet published." They
+said, too, that they hoped that the professor's unsound
+theories of infinitesimal rectitude would not remain
+unchallenged. Yet the public somehow missed it all, and
+one of the most profitable scandals in the publishing
+trade was missed for the lack of a little business
+enterprise.
+
+My new edition will give this book its first real chance.
+
+I admit that the inside has to be altered,--but not very
+much. The real basis of interest is there. The theories
+in the book are just as interesting as those raised in
+the modern novel.  All that is needed is to adopt the
+device, familiar in novels, of clothing the theories in
+personal form and putting the propositions advanced into
+the mouths of the characters, instead of leaving them as
+unsupported statements of the author. Take for example
+Dr.  Murray's beginning. It is very good,--any one will
+admit it,--fascinatingly clever, but it lacks heart.
+
+It runs:
+
+ If two magnitudes, one of which is determined by a straight
+ line and the other by a parabola approach one another,
+ the rectangle included by the revolution of each will be
+ equal to the sum of a series of indeterminate rectangles.
+
+Now this is,--quite frankly,--dull. The situation is
+there; the idea is good, and, whether one agrees or not,
+is at least as brilliantly original as even the best of
+our recent novels. But I find it necessary to alter the
+presentation of the plot a little bit. As I re-edit it
+the opening of the Calculus runs thus:
+
+ On a bright morning in June along a path gay with the
+ opening efflorescence of the hibiscus and entangled here
+ and there with the wild blossoms of the convolvulus,--two
+ magnitudes might have been seen approaching one another.
+ The one magnitude who held a tennis-racket in his hand,
+ carried himself with a beautiful erectness and moved
+ with a firmness such as would have led Professor Murray
+ to exclaim in despair--Let it be granted that A. B.
+ (for such was our hero's name) is a straight line. The
+ other magnitude, which drew near with a step at once
+ elusive and fascinating, revealed as she walked a figure
+ so exquisite in its every curve as to call from her
+ geometrical acquaintances the ecstatic exclamation, "Let
+ it be granted that M is a parabola."
+
+ The beautiful magnitude of whom we have last spoken,
+ bore on her arm as she walked, a tiny dog over which
+ her fair head was bent in endearing caresses; indeed
+ such was her attention to the dog Vi (his full name was
+ Velocity but he was called Vi for short) that her wayward
+ footsteps carried her not in a straight line but in a
+ direction so constantly changing as to lead that acute
+ observer, Professor Murray, to the conclusion that her
+ path could only be described by the amount of attraction
+ ascribable to Vi.
+
+ Guided thus along their respective paths, the two
+ magnitudes presently met with such suddenness that they
+ almost intersected.
+
+ "I beg your pardon," said the first magnitude very
+ rigidly.
+
+ "You ought to indeed," said the second rather sulkily,
+ "you've knocked Vi right out of my arms."
+
+ She looked round despairingly for the little dog which
+ seemed to have disappeared in the long grass.
+
+ "Won't you please pick him up?" she pleaded.
+
+ "Not exactly in my line, you know," answered the other
+ magnitude, "but I tell you what I'll do, if you'll stand
+ still, perfectly still where you are, and let me take
+ hold of your hand, I'll describe a circle!"
+
+ "Oh, aren't you clever!" cried the girl, clapping her
+ hands. "What a lovely idea! You describe a circle all
+ around me, and then we'll look at every weeny bit of it
+ and we'll be sure to find Vi--"
+
+ She reached out her hand to the other magnitude who
+ clasped it with an assumed intensity sufficient to retain
+ it.
+
+ At this moment a third magnitude broke on the scene:--a
+ huge oblong, angular figure, very difficult to describe,
+ came revolving towards them.
+
+ "M," it shouted, "Emily, what are you doing?"
+
+ "My goodness," said the second magnitude in alarm, "it's
+ MAMA."
+
+I may say that the second instalment of Dr.  Murray's
+fascinating romance will appear in the next number of
+the "Illuminated Bookworm", the great adult-juvenile
+vehicle of the newer thought in which these theories of
+education are expounded further.
+
+
+
+VII.--An Every-Day Experience
+
+He came across to me in the semi-silence room of the
+club.
+
+"I had a rather queer hand at bridge last night," he
+said.
+
+"Had you?" I answered, and picked up a newspaper.
+
+"Yes. It would have interested you, I think," he went
+on.
+
+"Would it?" I said, and moved to another chair.
+
+"It was like this," he continued, following me: "I held
+the king of hearts--"
+
+"Half a minute," I said; "I want to go and see what time
+it is." I went out and looked at the clock in the hall.
+I came back.
+
+"And the queen and the ten--" he was saying.
+
+"Excuse me just a second; I want to ring for a messenger."
+
+I did so. The waiter came and went.
+
+"And the nine and two small ones," he went on.
+
+"Two small what?" I asked.
+
+"Two small hearts," he said. "I don't remember which.
+Anyway, I remember very well indeed that I had the king
+and the queen and the jack, the nine, and two little
+ones."
+
+"Half a second," I said, "I want to mail a letter."
+
+When I came back to him, he was still murmuring:
+
+"My partner held the ace of clubs and the queen. The jack
+was out, but I didn't know where the king was--"
+
+"You didn't?" I said in contempt.
+
+"No," he repeated in surprise, and went on murmuring:
+
+"Diamonds had gone round once, and spades twice, and so
+I suspected that my partner was leading from weakness--"
+
+"I can well believe it," I said--"sheer weakness."
+
+"Well," he said, "on the sixth round the lead came to
+me. Now, what should I have done? Finessed for the ace,
+or led straight into my opponent--"
+
+"You want my advice," I said, "and you shall have it,
+openly and fairly. In such a case as you describe, where
+a man has led out at me repeatedly and with provocation,
+as I gather from what you say, though I myself do not
+play bridge, I should lead my whole hand at him.  I
+repeat, I do not play bridge. But in the circumstances,
+I should think it the only thing to do."
+
+
+
+VIII--Truthful Oratory, or What Our Speakers
+Ought to Say
+
+
+I
+
+TRUTHFUL SPEECH GIVING THE
+REAL THOUGHTS OF A DISTINGUISHED
+GUEST AT THE FIFTIETH
+ANNIVERSARY BANQUET
+OF A SOCIETY
+
+Mr. Chairman and gentlemen:  If there is one thing I
+abominate more than another, it is turning out on a cold
+night like this to eat a huge dinner of twelve courses
+and know that I have to make a speech on top of it.
+Gentlemen, I just feel stuffed.  That's the plain truth
+of it. By the time we had finished that fish, I could
+have gone home satisfied. Honestly I could. That's as
+much as I usually eat.  And by the time I had finished
+the rest of the food, I felt simply waterlogged, and I
+do still.  More than that. The knowledge that I had to
+make a speech congratulating this society of yours on
+its fiftieth anniversary haunted and racked me all through
+the meal. I am not, in plain truth, the ready and brilliant
+speaker you take me for. That is a pure myth. If you
+could see the desperate home scene that goes on in my
+family when I am working up a speech, your minds would
+be at rest on that point.
+
+I'll go further and be very frank with you.  How this
+society has lived for fifty years, I don't know. If all
+your dinners are like this, Heaven help you. I've only
+the vaguest idea of what this society is, anyway, and
+what it does. I tried to get a constitution this afternoon
+but failed. I am sure from some of the faces that I
+recognise around this table that there must be good
+business reasons of some sort for belonging to this
+society. There's money in it,--mark my words,--for some
+of you or you wouldn't be here. Of course I quite understand
+that the President and the officials seated here beside
+me come merely for the self-importance of it. That,
+gentlemen, is about their size. I realized that from
+their talk during the banquet. I don't want to speak
+bitterly, but the truth is they are SMALL men and it
+flatters them to sit here with two or three blue ribbons
+pinned on their coats. But as for me, I'm done with it.
+It will be fifty years, please heaven, before this event
+comes round again. I hope, I earnestly hope, that I shall
+be safely under the ground.
+
+
+II
+
+THE SPEECH THAT OUGHT TO BE
+MADE BY A STATE GOVERNOR
+AFTER VISITING THE FALL
+EXPOSITION OF AN AGRICULTURAL
+SOCIETY
+
+Well, gentlemen, this Annual Fall Fair of the Skedink
+County Agricultural Association has come round again. I
+don't mind telling you straight out that of all the
+disagreeable jobs that fall to me as Governor of this
+State, my visit to your Fall Fair is about the toughest.
+
+I want to tell you, gentlemen, right here and now, that
+I don't know anything about agriculture and I don't want
+to. My parents were rich enough to bring me up in the
+city in a rational way. I didn't have to do chores in
+order to go to the high school as some of those present
+have boasted that they did. My only wonder is that they
+ever got there at all.  They show no traces of it.
+
+This afternoon, gentlemen, you took me all round your
+live-stock exhibit. I walked past, and through, nearly
+a quarter of a mile of hogs.  What was it that they were
+called--Tamworths--Berkshires? I don't remember. But
+all I can say, gentlemen, is,--phew! Just that.  Some of
+you will understand readily enough.  That word sums up
+my whole idea of your agricultural show and I'm done with
+it.
+
+No, let me correct myself. There was just one feature of
+your agricultural exposition that met my warm approval.
+You were good enough to take me through the section of
+your exposition called your Midway Pleasance. Let me tell
+you, sirs, that there was more real merit in that than
+all the rest of the show put together. You apologized,
+if I remember rightly, for taking me into the large tent
+of the Syrian Dancing Girls. Oh, believe me, gentlemen,
+you needn't have. Syria is a country which commands my
+profoundest admiration.  Some day I mean to spend a
+vacation there.  And, believe me, gentlemen, when I do
+go,--and I say this with all the emphasis of which I am
+capable,--I should not wish to be accompanied by such a
+set of flatheads as the officials of your Agricultural
+Society.
+
+And now, gentlemen, as I have just received a fake
+telegram, by arrangement, calling me back to the capital
+of the State, I must leave this banquet at once. One word
+in conclusion:  if I had known as fully as I do now how
+it feels to drink half a bucket of sweet cider, I should
+certainly never have come.
+
+
+III
+
+TRUTHFUL SPEECH OF A DISTRICT
+POLITICIAN TO A LADIES' SUFFRAGE
+SOCIETY
+
+Ladies: My own earnest, heartfelt conviction is that you
+are a pack of cats. I use the word "cats" advisedly, and
+I mean every letter of it. I want to go on record before
+this gathering as being strongly and unalterably opposed
+to Woman Suffrage until you get it. After that I favour
+it. My reasons for opposing the suffrage are of a kind
+that you couldn't understand. But all men,--except the
+few that I see at this meeting,--understand them by
+instinct.
+
+As you may, however, succeed as a result of the fuss that
+you are making,--in getting votes, I have thought it best
+to come. Also,--I am free to confess,--I wanted to see
+what you looked like.
+
+On this last head I am disappointed. Personally I like
+women a good deal fatter than most of you are, and better
+looking. As I look around this gathering I see one or
+two of you that are not so bad, but on the whole not
+many. But my own strong personal predilection is and
+remains in favour of a woman who can cook, mend clothes,
+talk when I want her to, and give me the kind of admiration
+to which I am accustomed.
+
+Let me, however, say in conclusion that I am altogether
+in sympathy with your movement to this extent. If you
+ever DO get votes,--and the indications are that you will
+(blast you),--I want your votes, and I want all of them.
+
+
+
+IX.-Our Literary Bureau
+
+[Footnote: This literary bureau was started by the author
+in the New York Century. It leaped into such immediate
+prominence that it had to be closed at once.]
+
+ NOVELS READ TO ORDER
+    FIRST AID FOR THE
+       BUSY MILLIONAIRE
+
+ NO BRAINS NEEDED
+  NO TASTE REQUIRED
+   NOTHING BUT MONEY
+    SEND IT TO US
+
+We have lately been struck,--of course not dangerously,--by
+a new idea. A recent number of a well-known magazine
+contains an account of an American multimillionaire who,
+on account of the pressure of his brain power and the
+rush of his business, found it impossible to read the
+fiction of the day for himself.  He therefore caused his
+secretaries to look through any new and likely novel and
+make a rapid report on its contents, indicating for his
+personal perusal the specially interesting parts.
+
+Realizing the possibilities coiled up in this plan, we
+have opened a special agency or bureau for doing work of
+this sort. Any over-busy multimillionaire, or superman,
+who becomes our client may send us novels, essays, or
+books of any kind, and will receive a report explaining
+the plot and pointing out such parts as he may with
+propriety read. If he can once find time to send us a
+postcard, or a postal cablegram, night or day, we undertake
+to assume all the further effort of reading. Our terms
+for ordinary fiction are one dollar per chapter; for
+works of travel, 10 cents per mile; and for political or
+other essays, two cents per page, or ten dollars per
+idea, and for theological and controversial work, seven
+dollars and fifty cents per cubic yard extracted. Our
+clients are assured of prompt and immediate attention.
+
+Through the kindness of the Editor of the Century we are
+enabled to insert here a sample of our work. It was done
+to the order of a gentleman of means engaged in silver
+mining in Colorado, who wrote us that he was anxious to
+get "a holt" on modern fiction, but that he had no time
+actually to read it. On our assuring him that this was
+now unnecessary, he caused to be sent to us the monthly
+parts of a serial story, on which we duly reported as
+follows:
+
+
+JANUARY INSTALMENT
+
+   Theodolite Gulch,
+    The Dip, Canon County,
+     Colorado.
+
+Dear Sir:
+
+We beg to inform you that the scene of the opening chapter
+of the Fortunes of Barbara Plynlimmon is laid in Wales.
+The scene is laid, however, very carelessly and hurriedly
+and we expect that it will shortly be removed. We cannot,
+therefore, recommend it to your perusal. As there is a
+very fine passage describing the Cambrian Hills by
+moonlight, we enclose herewith a condensed table showing
+the mean altitude of the moon for the month of December
+in the latitude of Wales. The character of Miss Plynlimmon
+we find to be developed in conversation with her
+grandmother, which we think you had better not read. Nor
+are we prepared to endorse your reading the speeches of
+the Welsh peasantry which we find in this chapter, but
+we forward herewith in place of them a short glossary of
+Welsh synonyms which may aid you in this connection.
+
+
+FEBRUARY INSTALMENT
+
+Dear Sir:
+
+We regret to state that we find nothing in the second
+chapter of the Fortunes of Barbara Plynlimmon which need
+be reported to you at length. We think it well, however,
+to apprise you of the arrival of a young Oxford student
+in the neighbourhood of Miss Plynlimmon's cottage, who
+is apparently a young man of means and refinement. We
+enclose a list of the principal Oxford Colleges.
+
+We may state that from the conversation and manner of
+this young gentleman there is no ground for any apprehension
+on your part. But if need arises we will report by cable
+to you instantly.
+
+The young gentleman in question meets Miss Plynlimmon at
+sunrise on the slopes of Snowdon. As the description of
+the meeting is very fine we send you a recent photograph
+of the sun.
+
+
+MARCH INSTALMENT
+
+Dear Sir:
+
+Our surmise was right. The scene of the story that we
+are digesting for you is changed. Miss Plynlimmon has
+gone to London. You will be gratified to learn that she
+has fallen heir to a fortune of 100,000 pounds, which we
+are happy to compute for you at $486,666 and 66 cents
+less exchange. On Miss Plynlimmon's arrival at Charing
+Cross Station, she is overwhelmed with that strange
+feeling of isolation felt in the surging crowds of a
+modern city. We therefore enclose a timetable showing
+the arrival and departure of all trains at Charing Cross.
+
+
+APRIL INSTALMENT
+
+Dear Sir:
+
+We beg to bring to your notice the fact that Miss Barbara
+Plynlimmon has by an arrangement made through her trustees
+become the inmate, on a pecuniary footing, in the household
+of a family of title.  We are happy to inform you that
+her first appearance at dinner in evening dress was most
+gratifying:  we can safely recommend you to read in this
+connection lines 4 and 5 and the first half of line 6 on
+page 1OO of the book as enclosed. We regret to say that
+the Marquis of Slush and his eldest son Viscount Fitzbuse
+(courtesy title) are both addicted to drink. They have
+been drinking throughout the chapter. We are pleased to
+state that apparently the second son, Lord Radnor of
+Slush, who is away from home is not so addicted. We send
+you under separate cover a bottle of Radnor water.
+
+
+MAY INSTALMENT
+
+Dear Sir:
+
+We regret to state that the affairs of Miss Barbara
+Plynlimmon are in a very unsatisfactory position. We
+enclose three pages of the novel with the urgent request
+that you will read them at once. The old Marquis of Slush
+has made approaches towards Miss Plynlimmon of such a
+scandalous nature that we think it best to ask you to
+read them in full. You will note also that young Viscount
+Slush who is tipsy through whole of pages 121-125, 128-133,
+and part of page 140, has designs upon her fortune. We
+are sorry to see also that the Marchioness of Buse under
+the guise of friendship has insured Miss Plynlimmon's
+life and means to do away with her. The sister of the
+Marchioness, the Lady Dowager, also wishes to do away
+with her. The second housemaid who is tempted by her
+jewellery is also planning to do away with her.  We feel
+that if this goes on she will be done away with.
+
+
+JUNE INSTALMENT
+
+Dear Sir:
+
+We beg to advise you that Viscount Fitz-buse, inflamed
+by the beauty and innocence of Miss Plynlimmon, has gone
+so far as to lay his finger on her (read page 170, lines
+6-7). She resisted his approaches. At the height of the
+struggle a young man, attired in the costume of a Welsh
+tourist, but wearing the stamp of an Oxford student, and
+yet carrying himself with the unmistakable hauteur (we
+knew it at once) of an aristocrat, burst, or bust, into
+the room. With one blow he felled Fitz-buse to the floor;
+with another he clasped the girl to his heart.
+
+"Barbara!" he exclaimed.
+
+"Radnor," she murmured.
+
+You will be pleased to learn that this is the second son
+of the Marquis, Viscount Radnor, just returned from a
+reading tour in Wales.
+
+P. S. We do not know what he read, so we enclose a file
+of Welsh newspapers to date.
+
+
+JULY INSTALMENT
+
+We regret to inform you that the Marquis of Slush has
+disinherited his son. We grieve to state that Viscount
+Radnor has sworn that he will never ask for Miss
+Plynlimmon's hand till he has a fortune equal to her own.
+Meantime, we are sorry to say, he proposes to work.
+
+
+AUGUST INSTALMENT
+
+The Viscount is seeking employment.
+
+
+SEPTEMBER INSTALMENT
+
+The Viscount is looking for work.
+
+
+OCTOBER INSTALMENT
+
+The Viscount is hunting for a job.
+
+
+NOVEMBER INSTALMENT
+
+We are most happy to inform you that Miss Plynlimmon has
+saved the situation. Determined to be worthy of the
+generous love of Viscount Radnor, she has arranged to
+convey her entire fortune to the old family lawyer who
+acts as her trustee. She will thus become as poor as the
+Viscount and they can marry.  The scene with the old
+lawyer who breaks into tears on receiving the fortune,
+swearing to hold and cherish it as his own is very
+touching. Meantime, as the Viscount is hunting for a job,
+we enclose a list of advertisements under the heading
+Help Wanted--Males.
+
+
+DECEMBER INSTALMENT
+
+You will be very gratified to learn that the fortunes of
+Miss Barbara Plynlimmon have come to a most pleasing
+termination. Her marriage with the Viscount Radnor was
+celebrated very quietly on page 231. (We enclose a list
+of the principal churches in London.) No one was present
+except the old family lawyer, who was moved to tears at
+the sight of the bright, trusting bride, and the clergyman
+who wept at the sight of the cheque given him by the
+Viscount.  After the ceremony the old trustee took Lord
+and Lady Radnor to a small wedding breakfast at an hotel
+(we enclose a list). During the breakfast a sudden
+faintness (for which we had been watching for ten pages)
+overcame him. He sank back in his chair, gasping. Lord
+and Lady Radnor rushed to him and sought in vain to
+tighten his necktie. He expired under their care, having
+just time to indicate in his pocket a will leaving them
+his entire wealth.
+
+This had hardly happened when a messenger brought news
+to the Viscount that his brother, Lord Fitz-buse had been
+killed in the hunting field, and that he (meaning him,
+himself) had now succeeded to the title. Lord and Lady
+Fitz-buse had hardly time to reach the town house of the
+family when they learned that owing to the sudden death
+of the old Marquis (also, we believe, in the hunting
+field), they had become the Marquis and the Marchioness
+of Slush.
+
+The Marquis and the Marchioness of Slush are still living
+in their ancestral home in London. Their lives are an
+example to all their tenantry in Piccadilly, the Strand
+and elsewhere.
+
+
+CONCLUDING NOTE
+
+Dear Mr. Gulch:
+
+We beg to acknowledge with many thanks your cheque for
+one thousand dollars.
+
+We regret to learn that you have not been able to find
+time to read our digest of the serial story placed with
+us at your order. But we note with pleasure that you
+propose to have the "essential points" of our digest
+"boiled down" by one of the business experts of your
+office.
+
+Awaiting your commands,
+
+We remain, etc., etc.
+
+
+
+X.--Speeding Up Business
+
+We were sitting at our editorial desk in our inner room,
+quietly writing up our week's poetry, when a stranger
+looked in upon us.
+
+He came in with a burst,--like the entry of the hero of
+western drama coming in out of a snowstorm. His manner
+was all excitement.  "Sit down," we said, in our grave,
+courteous way. "Sit down!" he exclaimed, "certainly not!
+Are you aware of the amount of time and energy that are
+being wasted in American business by the practice of
+perpetually sitting down and standing up again? Do you
+realize that every time you sit down and stand up you
+make a dead lift of"--he looked at us,--"two hundred
+and fifty pounds? Did you ever reflect that every time
+you sit down you have to get up again?" "Never," we said
+quietly, "we never thought of it." "You didn't!" he
+sneered. "No, you'd rather go on lifting 250 pounds
+through two feet,--an average of 500 foot-pounds,
+practically 62 kilowatts of wasted power. Do you know
+that by merely hitching a pulley to the back of your neck
+you could generate enough power to light your whole
+office?"
+
+We hung our heads. Simple as the thing was, we had never
+thought of it. "Very good," said the Stranger. "Now, all
+American business men are like you. They don't think,--do
+you understand me? They don't think."
+
+We realized the truth of it at once. We had never thought.
+Perhaps we didn't even know how.
+
+"Now, I tell you," continued our visitor, speaking rapidly
+and with a light of wild enthusiasm in his face, "I'm
+out for a new campaign,--efficiency in business--speeding
+things up--better organization."
+
+"But surely," we said, musingly, "we have seen something
+about this lately in the papers?" "Seen it, sir," he
+exclaimed, "I should say so.  It's everywhere. It's a
+new movement. It's in the air. Has it never struck you
+how a thing like this can be seen in the air?"
+
+Here again we were at fault. In all our lives we had
+never seen anything in the air. We had never even looked
+there. "Now," continued the Stranger, "I want your paper
+to help. I want you to join in. I want you to give
+publicity."
+
+"Assuredly," we said, with our old-fashioned politeness.
+"Anything which concerns the welfare, the progress, if
+one may so phrase it--" "Stop," said the visitor. "You
+talk too much.  You're prosy. Don't talk. Listen to me.
+Try and fix your mind on what I am about to say."
+
+We fixed it. The Stranger's manner became somewhat calmer.
+"I am heading," he said, "the new American efficiency
+movement.  I have sent our circulars to fifty thousand
+representative firms, explaining my methods. I am receiving
+ten thousand answers a day"--here he dragged a bundle
+of letters out of his pocket--"from Maine, from New
+Hampshire, from Vermont,"--"Massachusetts, Rhode Island,
+Connecticut," we murmured.
+
+"Exactly," he said; "from every State in the Union--from
+the Philippines, from Porto Rico, and last week I had
+one from Canada." "Marvellous," we said; "and may one
+ask what your new methods are?"
+
+"You may," he answered. "It's a proper question. It's a
+typical business question, fair, plain, clean, and even
+admitting of an answer.  The great art of answering
+questions," he continued, "is to answer at once without
+loss of time, friction or delay in moving from place to
+place. I'll answer it."
+
+"Do," we said.
+
+"I will," said the Stranger. "My method is first: to
+stimulate business to the highest point by infusing into
+it everywhere the spirit of generous rivalry, of wholesome
+competition; by inviting each and every worker to outdo
+each and every other."
+
+"And can they do it?" we asked, puzzled and yet fascinated.
+"Can they all do it?"
+
+"They do, and they can," said the Stranger.  "The proof
+of it is that they are doing it.  Listen. Here is an
+answer to my circular No. 6, Efficiency and Recompense,
+that came in this morning. It is from a steel firm.
+Listen." The Stranger picked out a letter and read it.
+
+Dear Sir:
+
+Our firm is a Steel Corporation. We roll rails.  As soon
+as we read your circular on the Stimulus of Competition
+we saw that there were big things in it.  At once we sent
+one of our chief managers to the rolling, mill. He carried
+a paper bag in his hand. "Now boys," he said, "every man
+who rolls a rail gets a gum-drop." The effect was magical.
+The good fellows felt a new stimulus. They now roll out
+rails like dough.  Work is a joy to them. Every Saturday
+night the man who has rolled most gets a blue ribbon;
+the man who has rolled the next most, a green ribbon;
+the next most a yellow ribbon, and so on through the
+spectroscope.  The man who rolls least gets only a red
+ribbon.  It is a real pleasure to see the brave fellows
+clamouring for their ribbons. Our output, after defraying
+the entire cost of the ribbons and the gum-drops, has
+increased forty per cent. We intend to carry the scheme
+further by allowing all the men who get a hundred blue
+ribbons first, to exchange them for the Grand Efficiency
+Prize of the firm,--a pink ribbon.  This the winner will
+be entitled to wear whenever and wherever he sees fit to
+wear it.
+
+The stranger paused for breath.
+
+"Marvellous," we said. "There is no doubt the stimulus
+of keen competition--"
+
+"Shut up," he said impatiently. "Let me explain it further.
+Competition is only part of it. An item just as big that
+makes for efficiency is to take account of the little
+things. It's the little things that are never thought
+of."
+
+Here was another wonder! We realized that we had never
+thought of them. "Take an example," the Stranger continued.
+"I went into a hotel the other day. What did I see?
+Bell-boys being summoned upstairs every minute, and flying
+up in the elevators. Yes,--and every time they went up
+they had to come down again. I went up to the manager.
+I said, 'I can understand that when your guests ring for
+the bell-boys they have to go up. But why should they
+come down? Why not have them go up and never come down?'
+He caught the idea at once. That hotel is transformed.
+I have a letter from the manager stating that they find
+it fifty per cent. cheaper to hire new bell-boys instead
+of waiting for the old ones to come down."
+
+"These results," we said, "are certainly marvellous. "You
+are most assuredly to be congratulated on--"
+
+"You talk too much," said the Stranger.  "Don't do it.
+Learn to listen. If a young man comes to me for advice
+in business,--and they do in hundreds, lots of them,--almost
+in tears over their inefficiency,--I'd say, 'Young man,
+never talk, listen; answer, but don't speak.' But even
+all this is only part of the method.  Another side of it
+is technique."
+
+"Technique?" we said, pleased but puzzled.
+
+"Yes, the proper use of machine devices.  Take the building
+trade. I've revolutionized it. Till now all the bricks
+even for a high building were carried up to the mason in
+hods.  Madness! Think of the waste of it. By my method
+instead of carrying the bricks to the mason we take the
+mason to the brick,--lower him on a wire rope, give him
+a brick, and up he goes again. As soon as he wants another
+brick he calls down, 'I want a brick,' and down he comes
+like lightning."
+
+"This," we said, "is little short of--"
+
+"Cut it out. Even that is not all. Another thing bigger
+than any is organization. Half the business in this
+country is not organized.  As soon as I sent out my
+circular, No. 4, HAVE YOU ORGANIZED YOUR BUSINESS!  I
+got answers in thousands! Heart-broken, many of them.
+They had never thought of it! Here, for example, is a
+letter written by a plain man, a gardener, just an ordinary
+man, a plain man--"
+
+"Yes," we said, "quite so."
+
+"Well, here is what he writes:
+
+Dear Sir:
+
+As soon as I got your circular I read it all through
+from end to end, and I saw that all my failure in
+the past had come from my not being organized. I
+sat and thought a long while and I decided that I
+would organize myself. I went right in to the house
+and I said to my wife, "Jane, I'm going to organize
+myself." She said, "Oh, John!"--and not another
+word, but you should have seen the look on her face.
+So the next morning I got up early and began to
+organize myself. It was hard at first but I stuck to it.
+There were times when I felt as if I couldn't do it.
+It seemed too hard. But bit by bit I did it and now,
+thank God, I am organized. I wish all men like me
+could know the pleasure I feel in being organized."
+
+"Touching, isn't it?" said the Stranger.  "But I get lots
+of letters like that. Here's another, also from a man,
+a plain man, working on his own farm. Hear what he says:
+
+Dear Sir:
+
+As soon as I saw your circular on HOW TO SPEED UP THE
+EMPLOYEE I felt that it was a big thing. I don't have
+any hired help here to work with me, but only father. He
+cuts the wood and does odd chores about the place. So I
+realized that the best I could do was to try to speed up
+father. I started in to speed him up last Tuesday, and
+I wish you could see him. Before this he couldn't split
+a cord of wood without cutting a slice off his boots.
+Now he does it in half the time."
+
+"But there," the Stranger said, getting impatient even
+with his own reading, "I needn't read it all. It is the
+same thing all along the line. I've got the Method
+introduced into the Department Stores. Before this every
+customer who came in wasted time trying to find the
+counters. Now we install a patent springboard, with a
+mechanism like a catapault. As soon as a customer comes
+in an attendant puts him on the board, blindfolds him,
+and says, 'Where do you want to go?' 'Glove counter.'
+'Oh, all right.' He's fired at it through the air.  No
+time lost. Same with the railways.  They're installing
+the Method, too. Every engineer who breaks the record
+from New York to Buffalo gets a glass of milk. When he
+gets a hundred glasses he can exchange them for a glass
+of beer. So with the doctors. On the new method, instead
+of giving a patient one pill a day for fourteen days they
+give him fourteen pills in one day. Doctors, lawyers,
+everybody,--in time, sir," said the Stranger, in tones
+of rising excitement, "you'll see even the plumbers--"
+
+But just at this moment the door opened.  A sturdy-looking
+man in blue entered. The Stranger's voice was hushed at
+once. The excitement died out of his face. His manner
+all of a sudden was meekness itself.
+
+"I was just coming," he said.
+
+"That's right, sir," said the man; "better come along
+and not take up the gentleman's time."
+
+"Good-bye, then," said the Stranger, with meek affability,
+and he went out.
+
+The man in blue lingered behind for a moment.
+
+"A sad case, sir," he said, and he tapped his forehead.
+
+"You mean--" I asked.
+
+"Exactly. Cracked, sir. Quite cracked; but harmless. I'm
+engaged to look after him, but he gave me the slip
+downstairs."
+
+"He is under delusions?" we inquired.
+
+"Yes, sir. He's got it into his head that business in
+this country has all gone to pieces,--thinks it must be
+reorganized. He writes letters about it all day and sends
+them to the papers with imaginary names. You may have
+seen some of them. Good day, sir."
+
+We looked at our watch. We had lost just half an hour
+over the new efficiency. We turned back with a sigh to
+our old-fashioned task.
+
+
+
+XI.--Who Is Also Who. A Companion Volume
+to Who's Who
+
+Note by the editor: I do not quarrel with the contents
+of such valuable compendiums as "Who's Who," "Men and
+Women of the Time," etc., etc. But they leave out the
+really Representative People. The names that they include
+are so well known as to need no commentary, while those
+that they exclude are the very people one most wishes to
+read about.  My new book is not arranged alphabetically,
+that order having given great offence in certain social
+circles.
+
+Smith, J. Everyman: born Kenoka Springs; educ. Kenoka
+Springs; present residence, The Springs, Kenoka; address,
+Kenoka Springs Post-Office; after leaving school threw
+himself (Oct. 1881) into college study; thrown out of it
+(April 1882); decided to follow the law; followed it
+(1882); was left behind (1883); decided (1884) to abandon
+it; abandoned it; resolved (1885) to turn his energies
+to finance; turned them (1886); kept them turned (1887);
+unturned them (1888); was offered position (1889) as sole
+custodian of Mechanics' Institute, Kenoka Springs; decided
+(same date) to accept it; accepted it; is there now; will
+be till he dies.
+
+Flintlock, J. Percussion: aged 87; war veteran and
+pensioner; born, blank; educated, blank; at outbreak of
+Civil War sprang to arms; both sides; sprang Union first;
+entered beef contract department of army of U. S.; fought
+at Chicago, Omaha, and leading (beef) centres of operation
+during the thickest of the (beef) conflict; was under
+Hancock, Burnside, Meade, and Grant; fought with all of
+them; mentioned (very strongly) by all of them; entered
+Confederate Service (1864); attached (very much) to rum
+department of quarter-master's staff; mentioned in this
+connection (very warmly) in despatches of General Lee;
+mustered out, away out, of army; lost from sight, 1865-1895;
+placed on pension list with rank of general, 1895; has
+stayed on, 1895-1915; obtained (on 6th Avenue) war medals
+and service clasps; publications--"My Campaigns under
+Grant," "Battles I have Saved," "Feeding an Army,"
+"Stuffing the Public," etc., etc.; recreations, telling
+war stories; favorite amusement, showing war medals.
+
+Crook, W. Underhand: born, dash; parents, double dash;
+educated at technical school; on graduation turned his
+attention to the problem of mechanical timelocks and
+patent safes; entered Sing-Sing, 1890; resident there,
+1890-1893; Auburn, 1894, three months; various state
+institutions, 1895-1898; worked at profession, 1898-1899;
+Sing-Sing, 1900; professional work, 1901; Sing-Sing,
+1902; profession, 1903, Sing-Sing; profession, Sing-Sing,
+etc., etc.; life appointment, 1908; general favorite,
+musical, has never killed anybody.
+
+Gloomie, Dreary O'Leary: Scotch dialect comedian and
+humorist; well known in Scotland; has standing offer from
+Duke of Sutherland to put foot on estate.
+
+Muck, O. Absolute: novelist; of low German extraction;
+born Rotterdam; educated Muckendorf; escaped to America;
+long unrecognized; leaped into prominence by writing "The
+Social Gas-Pipe," a powerful indictment of modern society,
+written in revenge for not being invited to dinner; other
+works--"The Sewerage of the Sea-Side," an arraignment of
+Newport society, reflecting on some of his best friends;
+"Vice and Super-Vice," a telling denunciation of the New
+York police, written after they had arrested him; "White
+Ravens," an indictment of the clergy; "Black Crooks," an
+indictment of the publishers, etc., etc.; has arraigned
+and indicted nearly everybody.
+
+Whyner, Egbert Ethelwind: poet, at age of sixteen wrote
+a quatrain, "The Banquet of Nebuchadnezzar," and at once
+left school; followed it up in less than two years by a
+poem in six lines "America"; rested a year and then
+produced "Babylon, A Vision of Civilization," three lines;
+has written also "Herod, a Tragedy," four lines; "Revolt
+of Woman, "two lines, and "The Day of Judgement," one
+line.  Recreation, writing poetry.
+
+Adult, Hon. Underdone: address The Shrubbery, Hopton-
+under-Hyde, Rotherham-near-Pottersby, Potts, Hants,
+Hops, England (or words to that effect); organizer of
+the Boys' League of Pathfinders, Chief Commissioner of
+the Infant Crusaders, Grand Master of the Young Imbeciles;
+Major-General of the Girl Rangers, Chief of Staff of the
+Matron Mountain Climbers, etc.
+
+Zfwinski, X. Z.: Polish pianist; plays all night; address
+4,570 West 457 Street, Westside, Chicago West.
+
+
+
+XII.--Passionate Paragraphs
+
+(An extract from a recent (very recent) novel, illustrating
+the new beauties of language and ideas that are being
+rapidly developed by the twentieth century press.)
+
+His voice as he turned towards her was taut as a tie-line.
+
+"You don't love me!" he hoarsed, thick with agony. She
+had angled into a seat and sat sensing-rather-than-seeing
+him.
+
+For a time she silenced. Then presently as he still stood
+and enveloped her,--
+
+"Don't!" she thinned, her voice fining to a thread.
+
+"Answer me," he gloomed, still gazing into-and-through
+her.
+
+She half-heard half-didn't-hear him.
+
+Night was falling about them as they sat thus beside the
+river. A molten afterglow of iridescent saffron shot with
+incandescent carmine lit up the waters of the Hudson till
+they glowed like electrified uranium.
+
+For a while they both sat silent,--looming.
+
+"It had to be," she glumped.
+
+"Why, why?" he barked. "Why should it have had to have
+been or (more hopefully) even be to be? Surely you don't
+mean because of MONEY?"
+
+She shuddered into herself.
+
+The thing seemed to sting her (it hadn't really).
+
+"Money!" she almost-but-not-quite-moaned.  "You might
+have spared me that!"
+
+He sank down and grassed.
+
+And after they had sat thus for another half-hour grassing
+and growling and angling and sensing one another, it
+turned out that all that he was trying to say was to ask
+if she would marry him.
+
+And of course she said yes.
+
+
+
+XIII.--Weejee the Pet Dog. An Idyll of the Summer
+
+We were sitting on the verandah of the Sopley's summer
+cottage.
+
+"How lovely it is here," I said to my host and hostess,
+"and how still."
+
+It was at this moment that Weejee, the pet dog, took a
+sharp nip at the end of my tennis trousers.
+
+"Weejee!!" exclaimed his mistress with great emphasis,
+"BAD dog! how dare you, sir! BAD dog!"
+
+"I hope he hasn't hurt you," said my host.
+
+"Oh, it's nothing," I answered cheerfully.  "He hardly
+scratched me."
+
+"You know I don't think he means anything by it," said
+Mrs. Sopley.
+
+"Oh, I'm SURE he doesn't," I answered.
+
+Weejee was coming nearer to me again as I spoke.
+
+"WEEJEE!!" cried my hostess, "naughty dog, bad!"
+
+"Funny thing about that dog," said Sopley, "the way he
+KNOWS people. It's a sort of instinct. He knew right away
+that you were a stranger,--now, yesterday, when the
+butcher came, there was a new driver on the cart and
+Weejee knew it right away,--grabbed the man by the leg
+at once,--wouldn't let go. I called out to the man that
+it was all right or he might have done Weejee some harm."
+
+At this moment Weejee took the second nip at my other
+trouser leg. There was a short GUR-R-R and a slight
+mix-up.
+
+"Weejee! Weejee!" called Mrs. Sopley.  "How DARE you,
+sir! You're just a BAD dog!!  Go and lie down, sir. I'm
+so sorry. I think, you know, it's your white trousers.
+For some reason Weejee simply HATES white trousers. I do
+hope he hasn't torn them."
+
+"Oh, no," I said; "it's nothing only a slight tear."
+
+"Here, Weege, Weege," said Sopley, anxious to make a
+diversion and picking up a little chip of wood,--"chase
+it, fetch it out!" and he made the motions of throwing
+it into the lake.
+
+"Don't throw it too far, Charles," said his wife. "He
+doesn't swim awfully well," she continued, turning to
+me, "and I'm always afraid he might get out of his depth.
+Last week he was ever so nearly drowned. Mr. Van Toy
+was in swimming, and he had on a dark blue suit (dark
+blue seems simply to infuriate Weejee) and Weejee just
+dashed in after him. He don't MEAN anything, you know,
+it was only the SUIT made him angry,--he really likes
+Mr. Van Toy,--but just for a minute we were quite alarmed.
+If Mr. Van Toy hadn't carried Weejee in I think he might
+have been drowned.
+
+"By jove!" I said in a tone to indicate how appalled I
+was.
+
+"Let me throw the stick, Charles," continued Mrs. Sopley.
+"Now, Weejee, look Weejee--here, good dog--look! look
+now (sometimes Weejee simply won't do what one wants),
+here, Weejee; now, good dog!"
+
+Weejee had his tail sideways between his legs and was
+moving towards me again.
+
+"Hold on," said Sopley in a stern tone, "let me throw
+him in."
+
+"Do be careful, Charles," said his wife.
+
+Sopley picked Weejee up by the collar and carried him to
+the edge of the water--it was about six inches deep,--and
+threw him in,--with much the same force as, let us say,
+a pen is thrown into ink or a brush dipped into a pot of
+varnish.
+
+"That's enough; that's quite enough, Charles," exclaimed
+Mrs. Sopley. "I think he'd better not swim. The water in
+the evening is always a little cold. Good dog, good
+doggie, good Weejee!"
+
+Meantime "good Weejee" had come out of the water and was
+moving again towards me.
+
+"He goes straight to you," said my hostess.  "I think he
+must have taken a fancy to you."
+
+He had.
+
+To prove it, Weejee gave himself a rotary whirl like a
+twirled mop.
+
+"Oh, I'm SO sorry," said Mrs. Sopley. "I am. He's wetted
+you. Weejee, lie down, down, sir, good dog, bad dog, lie
+down!"
+
+"It's all right," I said. "I've another white suit in my
+valise."
+
+"But you must be wet through," said Mrs.  Sopley. "Perhaps
+we'd better go in. It's getting late, anyway, isn't it?"
+And then she added to her husband, "I don't think Weejee
+ought to sit out here now that he's wet."
+
+So we went in.
+
+"I think you'll find everything you need," said Sopley,
+as he showed me to my room, "and, by the way, don't mind
+if Weejee comes into your room at night. We like to let
+him run all over the house and he often sleeps on this
+bed."
+
+"All right," I said cheerfully, "I'll look after him."
+
+That night Weejee came.
+
+And when it was far on in the dead of night--so that even
+the lake and the trees were hushed in sleep, I took Weejee
+out and--but there is no need to give the details of it.
+
+And the Sopleys are still wondering where Weejee has gone
+to, and waiting for him to come back, because he is so
+clever at finding his way.
+
+But from where Weejee is, no one finds his way back.
+
+
+
+XIV.--Sidelights on the Supermen. An Interview with
+General Bernhardi.
+
+He came into my room in that modest, Prussian way that
+he has, clicking his heels together, his head very erect,
+his neck tightly gripped in his forty-two centimeter
+collar. He had on a Pickelhaube, or Prussian helmet,
+which he removed with a sweeping gesture and laid on the
+sofa.
+
+So I knew at once that it was General Bernhardi.
+
+In spite of his age he looked--I am bound to admit it--a
+fine figure of a man. There was a splendid fullness about
+his chest and shoulders, and a suggestion of rugged power
+all over him. I had not heard him on the stairs.  He
+seemed to appear suddenly beside me.
+
+"How did you get past the janitor?" I asked.  For it was
+late at night, and my room at college is three flights
+up the stairs.
+
+"The janitor," he answered carelessly, "I killed him."
+
+I gave a gasp.
+
+"His resistance," the general went on, "was very slight.
+Apparently in this country your janitors are unarmed."
+
+"You killed him?" I asked.
+
+"We Prussians," said Bernhardi, "when we wish an immediate
+access anywhere, always kill the janitor. It is quicker:
+and it makes for efficiency. It impresses them with a
+sense of our Furchtbarkeit. You have no word for that in
+English, I believe?"
+
+"Not outside of a livery stable," I answered.
+
+There was a pause. I was thinking of the janitor. It
+seemed in a sort of way--I admit that I have a sentimental
+streak in me--a deplorable thing.
+
+"Sit down," I said presently.
+
+"Thank you," answered the General, but remained standing.
+
+"All right," I said, "do it."
+
+"Thank you," he repeated, without moving.
+
+"I forgot," I said. "Perhaps you CAN'T sit down."
+
+"Not very well," he answered; "in fact, we Prussian
+officers"--here he drew himself up higher still--"never
+sit down. Our uniforms do not permit of it. This inspires
+us with a kind of Rastlosigkeit." Here his eyes glittered.
+
+"It must," I said.
+
+"In fact, with an Unsittlichkeit--an Unverschamtheit--with
+an Ein-fur-alle-mal-un-dur-chaus--"
+
+"Exactly," I said, for I saw that he was getting excited,
+"but pray tell me, General, to what do I owe the honour
+of this visit?"
+
+The General's manner changed at once.
+
+"Highly learned, and high-well-born-professor," he said,
+"I come to you as to a fellow author, known and honoured
+not merely in England, for that is nothing, but in Germany
+herself, and in Turkey, the very home of Culture."
+
+I knew that it was mere flattery. I knew that in this
+same way Lord Haldane had been so captivated as to come
+out of the Emperor's presence unable to say anything but
+"Sittlichkeit" for weeks; that good old John Burns had
+been betrayed by a single dinner at Potsdam, and that
+the Sultan of Turkey had been told that his Answers to
+Ultimatums were the wittiest things written since Kant's
+Critique of Pure Reason. Yet I was pleased in spite of
+myself.
+
+"What!" I exclaimed, "they know my works of humour in
+Germany?"
+
+"Do they know them?" said the General.  "Ach! Himmel!
+How they laugh. That work of yours (I think I see it on
+the shelf behind you), The Elements of Political Science,
+how the Kaiser has laughed over it! And the Crown Prince!
+It nearly killed him!"
+
+"I will send him the new edition," I said.  "But tell
+me, General, what is it that you want of me?"
+
+"It is about my own book," he answered.  "You have read
+it?"
+
+I pointed to a copy of Germany and the Next War, in its
+glaring yellow cover--the very hue of Furchtbarkeit--lying
+on the table.
+
+"You have read it? You have really read it?" asked the
+General with great animation.
+
+"No," I said, "I won't go so far as to say that. But I
+have TRIED to read it. And I talk about it as if I had
+read it."
+
+The General's face fell.
+
+"You are as the others," he said, "They buy the book,
+they lay it on the table, they talk of it at dinner,--they
+say 'Bernhardi has prophesied this, Bernhardi foresaw
+that,' but read it,--nevermore."
+
+"Still," I said, "you get the royalties."
+
+"They are cut off. The perfidious British Government will
+not allow the treacherous publisher to pay them. But that
+is not my complaint."
+
+"What is the matter, then?" I asked.
+
+"My book is misunderstood. You English readers have failed
+to grasp its intention. It is not meant as a book of
+strategy. It is what you call a work of humour. The book
+is to laugh. It is one big joke."
+
+"You don't say so!" I said in astonishment.
+
+"Assuredly," answered the General. "Here"--and with this
+he laid hold of the copy of the book before me and began
+rapidly turning over the leaves--"let me set it out
+asunder for you, the humour of it. Listen, though, to
+this, where I speak of Germany's historical mission on
+page 73,--'No nation on the face of the globe is so able
+to grasp and appropriate all the elements of culture as
+Germany is?' What do you say to that? Is it not a joke?
+Ach, Himmel, how our officers have laughed over that in
+Belgium!  With their booted feet on the mantelpiece as
+they read and with bottles of appropriated champagne
+beside them as they laugh."
+
+"You are right, General," I said, "you will forgive my
+not laughing out loud, but you are a great humorist."
+
+"Am I not? And listen further still, how I deal with the
+theme of the German character,--'Moral obligations such
+as no nation had ever yet made the standard of conduct,
+are laid down by the German philosophers.'"
+
+"Good," I said, "gloriously funny; read me some more."
+
+"This, then, you will like,--here I deal with the
+permissible rules of war. It is on page 236 that I am
+reading it. I wrote this chiefly to make laugh our naval
+men and our Zeppelin crews,--'A surprise attack, in order
+to be justified, must be made only on the armed forces
+of the state and not on its peaceful inhabitants.
+Otherwise the attack becomes a treacherous crime.' Eh,
+what?"
+
+Here the General broke into roars of laughter.
+
+"Wonderful," I said. "Your book ought to sell well in
+Scarborough and in Yarmouth.  Read some more."
+
+"I should like to read you what I say about neutrality,
+and how England is certain to violate our strategical
+right by an attack on Belgium and about the sharp measures
+that ought to be taken against neutral ships laden with
+contraband,--the passages are in Chapters VII and VIII,
+but for the moment I fail to lay the thumb on them."
+
+"Give me the book, General," I said. "Now that I understand
+what you meant by it, I think I can show you also some
+very funny passages in it. These things, for example,
+that you say about Canada and the colonies,--yes, here
+it is, page 148,--'In the event of war the loosely-joined
+British Empire will break into pieces, and the colonies
+will consult their own interests,'--excellently funny,--and
+this again,--'Canada will not permanently retain any
+trace of the English spirit,'--and this too,--'the Colonies
+can be completely ignored so far as the European theatre
+of war is concerned,'--and here again,--'Egypt and South
+Africa will at once revolt and break away from the empire,'
+--really, General, your ideas of the British Colonies
+are superbly funny. Mark Twain wasn't a circumstance on
+you."
+
+"Not at all," said Bernhardi, and his voice reverted to
+his habitual Prussian severity, "these are not jokes.
+They are facts. It is only through the folly of the
+Canadians in not reading my book that they are not more
+widely known. Even as it is they are exactly the views
+of your great leader Heinrich Bauratze--"
+
+"Who?" I said.
+
+"Heinrich Bauratze, your great Canadian leader--"
+
+"Leader of what?"
+
+"That I do not know," said Bernhardi. "Our intelligence
+office has not yet heard what he leads. But as soon as
+he leads anything we shall know it. Meantime we can see
+from his speeches that he has read my book. Ach! if only
+your other leaders in Canada,--Sir Robert Laurier, Sir
+Osler Sifton, Sir Williams Borden,--you smile, you do
+not realize that in Germany we have exact information of
+everything:  all that happens, we know it."
+
+Meantime I had been looking over the leaves of the book.
+
+"Here at least," I said, "is some splendidly humorous
+stuff,--this about the navy. 'The completion of the Kiel
+Canal,' you write in Chapter XII, 'is of great importance
+as it will enable our largest battleships to appear
+unexpectedly in the Baltic and in the North Sea!' Appear
+unexpectedly! If they only would!  How exquisitely
+absurd--"
+
+"Sir!" said the General. "That is not to laugh. You err
+yourself. That is Furchtbarkeit.  I did not say the book
+is all humour.  That would be false art. Part of it is
+humour and part is Furchbarkeit. That passage is specially
+designed to frighten Admiral Jellicoe. And he won't read
+it! Potztausand, he won't read it!"--repeated the general,
+his eyes flashing and his clenched fist striking in the
+air--"What sort of combatants are these of the British
+Navy who refuse to read our war-books? The Kaiser's
+Heligoland speech!  They never read a word of it. The
+Furchtbarkeit-Proklamation of August,--they never looked
+at it. The Reichstags-Rede with the printed picture of
+the Kaiser shaking hands with everybody,--they used it
+to wrap up sandwiches! What are they, then, Jellicoe and
+his men? They sit there in their ships and they read
+nothing! How can we get at them if they refuse to read?
+How can we frighten them away if they haven't culture
+enough to get frightened. Beim Himmel," shouted the
+General in great excitement--
+
+But what more he said can never be known.  For at this
+second a sudden catastrophe happened.
+
+In his frenzy of excitement the General struck with his
+fist at the table, missed it, lost his balance and fell
+over sideways right on the point of his Pickelhaube which
+he had laid on the sofa. There was a sudden sound as of
+the ripping of cloth and the bursting of pneumatic cushions
+and to my amazement the General collapsed on the sofa,
+his uniform suddenly punctured in a dozen places.
+
+"Schnapps," he cried, "fetch brandy."
+
+"Great Heavens! General," I said, "what has happened?"
+
+"My uniform!" he moaned, "it has burst!  Give me Schnapps!"
+
+He seemed to shrink visibly in size. His magnificent
+chest was gone. He was shrivelling into a tattered heap.
+He appeared as he lay there, a very allegory and
+illustration of Prussian Furchtbarkeit with the wind
+going out of it.
+
+"Fetch Schnapps,"--he moaned.
+
+"There are no Schnapps here," I said, "this is McGill
+University."
+
+"Then call the janitor," he said.
+
+"You killed him," I said.
+
+"I didn't. I was lying. I gave him a look that should
+have killed him, but I don't think it did. Rouse yourself
+from your chair, and call him--"
+
+"I will," I said, and started up from my seat.
+
+But as I did so, the form of General Bernhardi, which I
+could have sworn had been lying in a tattered heap on
+the sofa on the other side of the room, seemed suddenly
+to vanish from my eyes.
+
+There was nothing before me but the empty room with the
+fire burned low in the grate, and in front of me an open
+copy of Bernhardi's book.
+
+I must,--like many another reader,--have fallen asleep
+over it.
+
+
+
+XV.--The Survival of the Fittest
+
+A bell tinkled over the door of the little drug store as
+I entered it; which seemed strange in a lighted street
+of a great city.
+
+But the little store itself, dim even in the centre and
+dark in the corners was gloomy enough for a country
+crossroads.
+
+"I have to have the bell," said the man behind the counter,
+reading my thought, "I'm alone here just now."
+
+"A toothbrush?" he said in answer to my question. "Yes,
+I guess I've got some somewhere round here." He was
+stooping under and behind his counter and his voice came
+up from below. "I've got some somewhere--" And then as
+if talking to himself he murmured from behind a pile of
+cardboard boxes, "I saw some Tuesday."
+
+Had I gone across the street to the brilliant premises
+of the Cut Rate Pharmaceutical where they burn electric
+light by the meterfull I should no sooner have said "tooth
+brush," than one of the ten clerks in white hospital
+jackets would have poured a glittering assortment over
+the counter--prophylactic, lactic and every other sort.
+
+But I had turned in, I don't know why, to the little
+store across the way.
+
+"Here, I guess these must be tooth brushes," he said,
+reappearing at the level of the counter with a flat box
+in his hand. They must have been presumably, or have once
+been,--at some time long ago.
+
+"They're tooth brushes all right," he said, and started
+looking over them with an owner's interest.
+
+"What is the price of them?" I asked.
+
+"Well," the man said musingly, "I don't--jest--know. I
+guess it's written on them likely," and he began to look
+at the handles.
+
+Over at the Pharmaceutical across the way the words "what
+price?" would have precipitated a ready avalanche of
+figures.
+
+"This one seems to be seventy-five cents," he said and
+handed me one.
+
+"Is it a good tooth brush?" I asked.
+
+"It ought to be," he said, "you'd think, at that price."
+
+He had no shop talk, no patter whatever.
+
+Then he looked at the brush again, more closely.
+
+"I don't believe it IS seventy-five," he muttered, "I
+think it must be fifteen, don't you?"
+
+I took it from his hand and looked and said,--for it is
+well to take an occasional step towards the Kingdom of
+Heaven,--that I was certain it was seventy-five.
+
+"Well," said the man, "perhaps it is, my sight is not so
+good now. I've had too much to do here and the work's
+been using me up some."
+
+I noticed now as he said this how frail he looked as he
+bent over his counter wrapping up the tooth brush.
+
+"I've no sealing wax," he said, "or not handy."
+
+"That doesn't matter," I answered, "just put it in the
+paper."
+
+Over the way of course the tooth brush would have been
+done up almost instantaneously, in white enamel paper,
+sealed at the end and stamped with a label, as fast as
+the money paid for it went rattling along an automatic
+carrier to a cashier.
+
+"You've been very busy, eh?" I asked.
+
+"Well, not so much with customers," he said, "but with
+fixing up the place,"--here he glanced about him. Heaven
+only knows what he had fixed. There were no visible signs
+of it.
+
+"You see I've only been in here a couple of months. It
+was a pretty tough looking place when I came to it. But
+I've been getting things fixed. First thing I did I put
+those two carboys in the window with the lights behind
+them.  They show up fine, don't they?"
+
+"Fine!" I repeated; so fine indeed that the dim yellow
+light in them reached three or four feet from the jar.
+But for the streaming light from the great store across
+the street, the windows of the little shop would have
+been invisible.
+
+"It's a good location here," he said. Any one could have
+told him that it was the worst location within two miles.
+
+"I'll get it going presently," he went on.  "Of course
+it's uphill just at first. Being such a good location
+the rent is high. The first two weeks I was here I was
+losing five dollars a day. But I got those lights in the
+window and got the stock overhauled a little to make it
+attractive and last month I reckon I was only losing
+three dollars a day."
+
+"That's better," I said.
+
+"Oh, yes," he went on, and there was a clear glint of
+purpose in his eye that contrasted with his sunken cheeks.
+"I'll get it going. This last two weeks I'm not losing
+more than say two and a half a day or something like
+that? The custom is bound to come. You get a place fixed
+up and made attractive like this and people are sure to
+come sooner or later."
+
+What it was that was fixed up, and wherein lay the
+attractiveness I do not know. It could not be seen with
+the outward eye. Perhaps after two months' work of piling
+dusty boxes now this way, now that, and putting little
+candles behind the yellow carboys to try the effect, some
+inward vision came that lighted the place up with an
+attractiveness wanting even in the glass and marble
+glitter of the Pharmacy across the way.
+
+"Yes, sir," continued the man, "I mean to stay with it.
+I'll get things into shape here, fix it up a little more
+and soon I'll have it,"--here his face radiated with a
+vision of hope--"so that I won't lose a single cent."
+
+I looked at him in surprise. So humble an ambition it
+had never been my lot to encounter.
+
+"All that bothers me," he went on, "is my health. It's
+a nice business the drug business:  I like it, but it
+takes it out of you. You've got to be alert and keen all
+the time; thinking out plans to please the custom when
+it comes.  Often I don't sleep well nights for the rush
+of it."
+
+I looked about the little shop, as gloomy and sleepful
+as the mausoleum of an eastern king, and wondered by what
+alchemy of the mind the little druggist found it a very
+vortex of activity.
+
+"But I can fix my health," he returned--"I may have to
+get some one in here and go away for a spell. Perhaps
+I'll do it. The doctor was saying he thought I might take
+a spell off and think out a few more wrinkles while I'm
+away."
+
+At the word "doctor" I looked at him more warmly, and I
+saw then what was plain enough to see but for the dim
+light of the little place,--the thin flush on the cheek,
+the hopeful mind, the contrast of the will to live and
+the need to die, God's little irony on man, it was all
+there plain enough to read. The "spell" for which the
+little druggist was going is that which is written in
+letters of sorrow over the sunlit desolation of Arizona
+and the mountains of Colorado.
+
+A month went by before I passed that way again. I looked
+across at the little store and I read the story in its
+drawn blinds and the padlock on its door.
+
+The little druggist had gone away for a spell. And they
+told me, on enquiry, that his journey had been no further
+than to the cemetery behind the town where he lies now,
+musing, if he still can, on the law of the survival of
+the fittest in this well-adjusted world.
+
+And they say that the shock of the addition of his whole
+business to the great Pharmacy across the way scarcely
+disturbed a soda siphon.
+
+
+
+XVI--The First Newspaper. A Sort of Allegory
+
+How likes it you, Master Brenton?" said the brawny
+journeyman, spreading out the news sheet on a smooth
+oaken table where it lay under the light of a leaded
+window.
+
+"A marvellous fair sheet," murmured Brenton Caxton,
+seventh of the name, "let me but adjust my glasses and
+peruse it further lest haply there be still aught in it
+that smacks of error."
+
+"It needs not," said the journeyman, "'tis the fourth
+time already from the press."
+
+"Nay, nay," answered Master Brenton softly, as he adjusted
+his great horn-rimmed spectacles and bent his head over
+the broad damp news sheet before him. "Let us grudge no
+care in this. The venture is a new one and, meseems, a
+very parlous thing withal. 'Tis a venture that may easily
+fail and carry down our fortunes with it, but at least
+let it not be said that it failed for want of brains in
+the doing."
+
+"Fail quotha!" said a third man, who had not yet spoken,
+old, tall and sour of visage and wearing a printer's
+leather apron. He had moved over from the further side
+of the room where a little group of apprentices stood
+beside the wooden presses that occupied the corner, and
+he was looking over the shoulder of Master Brenton Caxton.
+
+"How can it do aught else? 'Tis a mad folly. Mark you,
+Master Brenton and Master Nick, I have said it from the
+first and let the blame be none of mine. 'Tis a mad thing
+you do here. See then," he went on, turning and waving
+his hand, "this vast room, these great presses, yonder
+benches and tools, all new, yonder vats of ink straight
+out of Flanders, how think you you can recover the cost
+of all this out of yonder poor sheets? Five and forty
+years have I followed this mystery of printing, ever
+since thy grandfather's day, Master Brenton, and never
+have I seen the like. What needed this great chamber when
+your grandfather and father were content with but a garret
+place, and yonder presses that can turn off four score
+copies in the compass of a single hour,--'Tis mad folly,
+I say."
+
+The moment was an interesting one. The speakers were in
+a great room with a tall ceiling traversed by blackened
+beams. From the street below there came dimly through
+the closed casements the sound of rumbling traffic and
+the street cries of the London of the seventeenth century.
+Two vast presses of such colossal size that their wooden
+levers would tax the strength of the stoutest apprentice,
+were ranged against the further wall. About the room,
+spread out on oaken chairs and wooden benches, were flat
+boxes filled with leaden type, freshly molten, and a
+great pile of paper, larger than a man could lift, stood
+in a corner.
+
+The first English newspaper in history was going to press.
+Those who in later ages,--editors, printers, and
+workers--have participated in the same scene, can form
+some idea of the hopes and fears, the doubts and the
+difficulties, with which the first newspaper was ushered
+into the world.
+
+Master Brenton Caxton turned upon the last speaker the
+undisturbed look of the eye that sees far across the
+present into the years to come.
+
+"Nay, Edward," he said, "you have laboured over much in
+the past and see not into the future. You think this
+chamber too great for our purpose? I tell you the time
+will come when not this room alone but three or four such
+will be needed for our task. Already I have it in my mind
+that I will divide even this room into portions, with
+walls shrewdly placed through its length and breadth, so
+that each that worketh shall sit as it were in his own
+chamber and there shall stand one at the door and whosoever
+cometh, to whatever part of our task his business
+appertains, he shall forthwith be brought to the room of
+him that hath charge of it. Cometh he with a madrigal or
+other light poesy that he would set out on the press, he
+shall find one that has charge of such matters and can
+discern their true value. Or, cometh he with news of
+aught that happens in the realm, so shall he be brought
+instant to the room of him that recordeth such events.
+Or, if so be, he would write a discourse on what seemeth
+him some wise conceit touching the public concerns, he
+shall find to his hand a convenient desk with ink and
+quills and all that he needeth to set it straightway on
+paper; thus shall there be a great abundance of written
+matter to our hand so that not many days shall elapse
+after one of our news sheets goes abroad before there be
+matter enough to fill another."
+
+"Days!" said the aged printer, "think you you can fill
+one of these news sheets in a few days! Where indeed if
+you search the whole realm will you find talk enough in
+a single week to fill out this great sheet half an ell
+wide!"
+
+"Ay, days indeed!" broke in Master Nicholas, the younger
+journeyman. "Master Brenton speaks truth, or less than
+truth. For not days indeed, but in the compass of a single
+day, I warrant you, shall we find the matter withal."
+Master Nicholas spoke with the same enthusiasm as his
+chief, but with less of the dreamer in his voice and eye,
+and with more swift eagerness of the practical man.
+
+"Fill it, indeed," he went on. "Why, Gad Zooks! man! who
+knoweth what happenings there are and what not till one
+essays the gathering of them! And should it chance that
+there is nothing of greater import, no boar hunt of his
+Majesty to record, nor the news of some great entertainment
+by one of the Lords of the Court, then will we put in
+lesser matter, aye whatever comes to hand, the talk of
+his Majesty's burgesses in the Parliament or any such
+things."
+
+"Hear him!" sneered the printer, "the talk of his Majesty's
+burgesses in Westminster, forsooth! And what clerk or
+learned person would care to read of such? Or think you
+that His Majesty's Chamberlain would long bear that such
+idle chatter should be bruited abroad.  If you can find
+no worthier thing for this our news sheet than the talk
+of the Burgesses, then shall it fail indeed. Had it been
+the speech of the King's great barons and the bishops
+'twere different. But dost fancy that the great barons
+would allow that their weighty discourses be reduced to
+common speech so that even the vulgar may read it and
+haply here and there fathom their very thought itself,--and
+the bishops, the great prelates, to submit their ideas
+to the vulgar hand of a common printer, framing them into
+mere sentences! 'Tis unthinkable that they would sanction
+it!"
+
+"Aye," murmured Caxton in his dreaming voice, "the time
+shall come, Master Edward, when they will not only sanction
+it but seek it."
+
+"Look you," broke in Master Nick, "let us have done with
+this talk? Whether there be enough happenings or not
+enough,"--and here he spoke with a kindling eye and looked
+about him at the little group of apprentices and printers,
+who had drawn near to listen, "if there be not enough,
+then will I MAKE THINGS HAPPEN.  What is easier than to
+tell of happenings forth of the realm of which no man
+can know,--some talk of the Grand Turk and the war that
+he makes, or some happenings in the New Land found by
+Master Columbus. Aye," he went on, warming to his words
+and not knowing that he embodied in himself the first
+birth on earth of the telegraphic editor,--"and why not.
+One day we write it out on our sheet 'The Grand Turk
+maketh disastrous war on the Bulgars of the North and
+hath burnt divers of their villages.' And that hath no
+sooner gone forth than we print another sheet saying,
+'It would seem that the villages be not burnt but only
+scorched, nor doth it appear that the Turk burnt them
+but that the Bulgars burnt divers villages of the Turk
+and are sitting now in his mosque in the city of Hadrian.'
+Then shall all men run to and fro and read the sheet and
+question and ask, 'Is it thus?' And, 'Is it thus?' and
+by very uncertainty of circumstances, they shall demand
+the more curiously to see the news sheet and read it."
+
+"Nay, nay, Master Nick," said Brenton, firmly, "that will
+I never allow. Let us make it to ourselves a maxim that
+all that shall be said in this news sheet, or 'news
+paper,' as my conceit would fain call it, for be it not
+made of paper (here a merry laugh of the apprentices
+greeted the quaint fancy of the Master), shall be of
+ascertained verity and fact indisputable.  Should the
+Grand Turk make war and should the rumour of it come to
+these isles, then will we say 'The Turk maketh war,' and
+should the Turk be at peace, then we will say 'The Turk
+it doth appear is now at peace.' And should no news come,
+then shall we say 'In good sooth we know not whether the
+Turk destroyeth the Bulgars or whether he doth not, for
+while some hold that he harasseth them sorely, others
+have it that he harasseth them not, whereby we are sore
+put to it to know whether there be war or peace, nor do
+we desire to vex the patience of those who read by any
+further discourse on the matter, other than to say that
+we ourselves are in doubt what be and what be not truth,
+nor will we any further speak of it other than this.'"
+
+Those about Caxton listened with awe to this speech. They
+did not,--they could not know,--that this was the birth
+of the Leading Article, but there was something in the
+strangely fascinating way in which their chief enlarged
+upon his own ignorance that foreshowed to the meanest
+intelligence the possibilities of the future.
+
+Nicholas shook his head.
+
+"'Tis a poor plan, Master Brenton," he said, "the folk
+wish news, give them the news. The more thou givest them,
+the better pleased they are and thus doth the news sheet
+move from hand to hand till it may be said (if I too may
+coin a phrase) to increase vastly its 'circulation'--"
+
+"In sooth," said Master Brenton, looking at Nicholas with
+a quiet expression that was not exempt from a certain
+slyness, "there I do hold thou art in the wrong, even as
+a matter of craft or policie. For it seems to me that if
+our paper speaketh first this and then that but hath no
+fixed certainty of truth, sooner or later will all its
+talk seem vain, and no man will heed it. But if it speak
+always the truth, then sooner or later shall all come to
+believe it and say of any happening, 'It standeth written
+in the paper, therefore it is so.' And here I charge you
+all that have any part in this new venture," continued
+Master Brenton, looking about the room at the listening
+faces and speaking with great seriousness, "let us lay
+it to our hearts that our maxim shall be truth and truth
+alone. Let no man set his hand to aught that shall go
+upon our presses save only that which is assured truth.
+In this way shall our venture ever be pleasing to the
+Most High, and I do verily believe,"--and here Caxton's
+voice sank lower as if he were thinking aloud,--"in the
+long run, it will be mighty good for our circulation."
+
+The speaker paused. Then turning to the broad sheet before
+him, he began to scan its columns with his eye. The others
+stood watching him as he read.
+
+"What is this, Master Edward," he queried presently,
+"here I see in this first induct, or column, as one names
+it, the word King fairly and truly spelled. Lower down
+it standeth Kyng, and yet further in the second induct
+Kynge, and in the last induct where there is talk of His
+Majesty's marvelous skill in the French game of palm or
+tennis, lo the word stands Quhyngge! How sayeth thou?"
+
+"Wouldst have it written always in but one and the same
+way?" asked the printer in astonishment.
+
+"Aye, truly," said Caxton.
+
+"With never any choice, or variation to suit the fancy
+of him who reads so that he who likes it written King
+may see it so, and yet also he who would prefer it written
+in a freer style, or Quhyngge, may also find it so and
+thus both be pleased."
+
+"That will I never have!" said Master Brenton firmly,
+"dost not remember, friend, the old tale in the fabula
+of Aesopus of him who would please all men. Here will I
+make another maxim for our newspaper. All men we cannot
+please, for in pleasing one belike we run counter to
+another. Let us set our hand to write always without
+fear. Let us seek favour with none. Always in our news
+sheet we will seek to speak dutifully and with all
+reverence of the King his Majesty: let us also speak with
+all respect and commendation of His Majesty's great
+prelates and nobles, for are they not the exalted of the
+land? Also I would have it that we say nothing harsh
+against our wealthy merchants and burgesses, for hath
+not the Lord prospered them in their substances. Yea,
+friends, let us speak ever well of the King, the clergy,
+the nobility and of all persons of wealth and substantial
+holdings. But beyond this"--here Brenton Coxton's eye
+flashed,--"let us speak with utter fearlessness of all
+men. So shall we be, if I may borrow a mighty good word
+from Tacitus his Annals, of a complete independence,
+hanging on to no man. In fact our venture shall be an
+independent newspaper."
+
+The listeners felt an instinctive awe at the words, and
+again a strange prescience of the future made itself felt
+in every mind. Here for the first time in history was
+being laid down that fine, fearless creed that has made
+the independent press what it is.
+
+Meantime Caxton continued to glance his eye over the news
+sheet, murmuring his comments on what he saw,--"Ah! vastly
+fine, Master Nicholas,--this of the sailing of His
+Majesty's ships for Spain,--and this, too, of the Doge
+of Venice, his death, 'tis brave reading and maketh a
+fair discourse. Here also this likes me, 'tis shrewdly
+devised," and here he placed his finger on a particular
+spot on the news sheet,--"here in speaking of the strange
+mishap of my Lord Arundel, thou useth a great S for
+strange, and setteth it in a line all by itself whereby
+the mind of him that reads is suddenly awakened, alarmed
+as it were by a bell in the night. 'Tis good. 'Tis well.
+But mark you, friend Nicholas, try it not too often, nor
+use your great letters too easily. In the case of my Lord
+Arundel, it is seemly, but for a mishap to a lesser
+person, let it stand in a more modest fashion."
+
+There was a pause. Then suddenly Caxton looked up again.
+
+"What manner of tale is this! What strange thing is here!
+In faith, Master Nicholas, whence hast thou so marvelous
+a thing! The whole world must know of it. Harken ye all
+to this!
+
+"'Let all men that be troubled of aches, spavins, rheums,
+boils, maladies of the spleen or humours of the blood,
+come forthwith to the sign of the Red Lantern in East
+Cheap. There shall they find one that hath a marvelous
+remedy for all such ailments, brought with great dangers
+and perils of the journey from a far distant land. This
+wonderous balm shall straightway make the sick to be well
+and the lame to walk. Rubbed on the eye it restoreth
+sight and applied to the ear it reviveth the hearing.
+'Tis the sole invention of Doctor Gustavus Friedman,
+sometime of Gottingen and brought by him hitherwards out
+of the sheer pity of his heart for them that be afflicted,
+nor shall any other fee be asked for it save only such
+a light and tender charge as shall defray the cost of
+Doctor Friedman his coming and going.'"
+
+Caxton paused and gazed at Master Nicholas in wonder.
+"Whence hadst thou this?"
+
+Master Nicholas smiled.
+
+"I had it of a chapman, or travelling doctor, who was
+most urgent that we set it forth straightway on the
+press."
+
+"And is it true?" asked Caxton; "thou hast it of a full
+surety of knowledge?"
+
+Nicholas laughed lightly.
+
+"True or false, I know not," he said, "but the fellow
+was so curious that we should print it that he gave me
+two golden laurels and a new sovereign on the sole
+understanding that we should set it forth in print."
+
+There was deep silence for a moment.
+
+"He PAYETH to have it printed!" said Caxton, deeply
+impressed.
+
+"Aye," said Master Nicholas, "he payeth and will pay
+more. The fellow hath other balms equally potent. All of
+these he would admonish, or shall I say advert, the
+public."
+
+"So," said Caxton, thoughtfully, "he wishes to make, if
+I may borrow a phrase of Albertus Magnus, an advertisement
+of his goods."
+
+"Even so," said Nicholas.
+
+"I see," said the Master, "he payeth us. We advert the
+goods. Forthwith all men buy them. Then hath he more
+money. He payeth us again. We advert the goods more and
+still he payeth us. That would seem to me, friend Nick,
+a mighty good busyness for us."
+
+"So it is," rejoined Nicholas, "and after him others will
+come to advert other wares until belike a large part of
+our news sheet,--who knows? the whole of it, perhaps,
+shall be made up in the merry guise of advertisements."
+
+Caxton sat silent in deep thought.
+
+"But Master Caxton"--cried the voice of a young apprentice,
+a mere child, as he seemed, with fair hair and blue eyes
+filled with the native candour of unsullied youth,--"is
+this tale true!"
+
+"What sayest thou, Warwick?" said the master printer,
+almost sternly.
+
+"Good master, is the tale of the wonderous balm true?"
+
+"Boy," said Caxton, "Master Nicholas, hath even said, we
+know not if it is true."
+
+"But didst thou not charge us," pleaded the boy, "that
+all that went under our hand into the press should be
+truth and truth alone?"
+
+"I did," said Caxton thoughtfully, "but I spoke perhaps
+somewhat in overhaste. I see that we must here distinguish.
+Whether this is true or not we cannot tell. But it is
+PAID FOR, and that lifts it, as who should say, out of
+the domain of truth. The very fact that it is paid for
+giveth it, as it were, a new form of merit, a verity
+altogether its own."
+
+"Ay, ay," said Nicholas, with a twinkle in his shrewd
+eyes, "entirely its own."
+
+"Indeed so," said Caxton, "and here let us make to
+ourselves another and a final maxim of guidance. All
+things that any man will pay for, these we will print,
+whether true or not, for that doth not concern us. But
+if one cometh here with any strange tale of a remedy or
+aught else and wishes us to make advertisement of it and
+hath no money to pay for it, then shall he be cast forth
+out of this officina, or office, if I may call it so,
+neck and crop into the street. Nay, I will have me one
+of great strength ever at the door ready for such castings."
+
+A murmur of approval went round the group.
+
+Caxton would have spoken further but at the moment the
+sound of a bell was heard booming in the street without.
+
+"'Tis the Great Bell," said Caxton, "ringing out the hour
+of noon. Quick, all of you to your task. Lay me the forms
+on the press and speed me the work. We start here a great
+adventure. Mark well the maxims I have given you, and
+God speed our task."
+
+And in another hour or so, the prentice boys of the master
+printer were calling in the streets the sale of the first
+English newspaper.
+
+
+
+XVII--In the Good Time After the War
+
+[Footnote: An extract from a London newspaper of 1916.]
+
+
+HOUSE OF COMMONS REPORT
+
+The Prime Minister in rising said that he thought the
+time had now come when the House might properly turn its
+attention again to domestic affairs. The foreign world
+was so tranquil that there was really nothing of importance
+which need be brought to the attention of the House.
+Members, however, would, perhaps, be glad to learn
+incidentally that a new and more comfortable cage had
+been supplied for the ex-German Emperor, and that the
+ex-Crown Prince was now showing distinct signs of
+intelligence, and was even able to eat quite quietly out
+of his keeper's hand. Members would be gratified to know
+that at last the Hohenzollern family were able to abstain
+from snapping at the hand that fed them. But he would
+now turn to the subject of Home Rule.
+
+Here the House was seen to yawn noticeably, and a general
+lack of interest was visible, especially among the
+Nationalist and Ulster members. A number of members were
+seen to rise as if about to move to the refreshment-
+room. Mr. John Redmond and Sir Edward Carson were seen
+walking arm in arm towards the door.
+
+The Prime Minister. "Will the members kindly keep their
+seats? We are about to hold a discussion on Home Rule.
+Members will surely recall that this form of discussion
+was one of our favourite exercises only a year or so ago.
+I trust that members have not lost interest in the
+subject." (General laughter among the members, and cries
+of "Cut it out!" "What is it?")
+
+The Prime Minister (with some asperity).  "Members are
+well aware what Home Rule meant. It was a plan--or rather
+it was a scheme--that is to say, it was an act of
+parliament, or I should say a bill, in fact, Mr. Speaker,
+I don't mind confessing that, not having my papers with
+me, I am unable to inform the House just what Home Rule
+was. I think, perhaps, the Ex-Minister of Munitions has
+a copy of last year's bill."
+
+Mr. Lloyd George rising, with evident signs of boredom.
+"The House will excuse me. I am tired. I have been out
+all day aeroplaning with Mr. Churchill and Mr. Bonar Law,
+with a view to inspect the new national training camp.
+I had the Home Rule Bill with me along with the Welsh
+Disestablishment Bill and the Land Bill, and I am afraid
+that I lost the whole bally lot of them; dropped them
+into the sea or something. I hope the Speaker will overlook
+the term 'bally.' It may not be parliamentary."
+
+Mr. Speaker (laughing). "Tut, tut, never mind a little
+thing like that. I am sure that after all that we have
+gone through together, the House is quite agreed that a
+little thing like parliamentary procedure doesn't matter."
+
+Mr. Lloyd George (humbly). "Still I am sorry for the
+term. I'd like to withdraw it. I separate or distinguish
+in any degree the men of Ulster from the men of Tipperary,
+and the heart of Belfast from the heart of Dublin." (Loud
+cheers.)
+
+Mr. Redmond (springing forward). "And I'll say this: Not
+I, nor any man of Ireland, Dublin, Belfast, or Connaught
+will ever set our hands or names to any bill that shall
+separate Ireland in any degree from the rest of the
+Empire. Work out, if you like, a new scheme of government.
+If the financial clauses are intricate, get one of your
+treasury clerks to solve them. If there's trouble in
+arranging your excise on your customs, settle it in any
+way you please. But it is too late now to separate England
+and Ireland. We've held the flag of the Empire in our
+hand. We mean to hold it in our grasp forever. We have
+seen its colours tinged a brighter red with the best of
+Ireland's blood, and that proud stain shall stay forever
+as the symbol of the unity of Irish and the English
+people."
+
+(Loud cheers ring through the House; several members rise
+in great excitement, all shouting and speaking together.)
+There is heard the voice of Mr. Angus McCluskey, Member
+for the Hebrides, calling--"And ye'll no forget Scotland,
+me lad, when you talk of unity! Do you mind the
+Forty-Second, and the London Scottish in the trenches of
+the Aisne? Wha carried the flag of the Empire then? Unity,
+ma friends, ye'll never break it. It may involve a wee
+bit sacrifice for Scotland financially speaking. I'll no
+say no to a reveesion of the monetairy terms, if ye
+suggest it,--but for unita--Scotland and the Empire, now
+and forever!"
+
+A great number of members have risen in their seats. Mr.
+Open Ap Owen Glendower is calling: "Aye and Wales! never
+forget Wales." Mr. Trevelyan Trendinning of Cornwall has
+started singing "And shall Trelawney Die?"--while the
+deep booming of "Rule Britannia" from five hundred throats
+ascends to the very rafters of the House.
+
+The Speaker laughing and calling for order, while two of
+the more elderly clerks are beating with the mace on the
+table,--"Gentlemen, gentlemen, I have a proposal to make.
+I have just learned that there is at the Alhambra in
+Leicester Square, a real fine moving picture show of the
+entrance of the Allies into Berlin.  Let's all go to it.
+We can leave a committee of the three youngest members
+to stay behind and draw up a new government for Ireland.
+Even they can't go wrong now as to what we want."
+
+Loud Cheers as the House empties, singing "It was a Long
+Way to Tipperary, but the way lay through Berlin."
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOONBEAMS FROM THE LARGER
+LUNACY ***
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/4064-h/4064-h.htm b/4064-h/4064-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a497bef
--- /dev/null
+++ b/4064-h/4064-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,6466 @@
+<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+   "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" >
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <title>Moonbeams From The Larger Lunacy | Project Gutenberg</title>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" />
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" />
+    <style type="text/css">
+    body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify}
+    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .75em; margin-bottom: .75em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; text-align: justify; font-size: 80%; font-style: italic;}
+    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
+    .xx-small {font-size: 60%;}
+    .x-small {font-size: 75%;}
+    .small {font-size: 85%;}
+    .large {font-size: 115%;}
+    .x-large {font-size: 130%;}
+    .indent5   { margin-left: 5%;}
+    .indent10  { margin-left: 10%;}
+    .indent15  { margin-left: 15%;}
+    .indent20  { margin-left: 20%;}
+    .indent25  { margin-left: 25%;}
+    .indent30  { margin-left: 30%;}
+    .indent35  { margin-left: 35%;}
+    .indent40  { margin-left: 40%;}
+    div.fig    { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+    div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; }
+    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+    .pagenum   {position: absolute; right: 1%; font-size: 0.6em;
+                font-variant: normal; font-style: normal;
+                text-align: right; background-color: #FFFACD;
+                border: 1px solid; padding: 0.3em;text-indent: 0em;}
+    .side      { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 15%; padding-left: 0.8em;
+               border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left;
+               text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;
+               font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border:        solid 1px;}
+    .head      { float: left; font-size: 90%; width: 98%; padding-left: 0.8em;
+               border-left: dashed thin; text-align: center;
+               text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;
+               font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border:        solid 1px;}
+    p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0}
+    span.dropcap         { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 0.8 }
+    pre        { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+</style>
+  </head>
+  <body>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOONBEAMS FROM THE LARGER LUNACY ***</div>
+
+    <div style="height: 8em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h1>
+      MOONBEAMS FROM THE LARGER LUNACY
+    </h1>
+    <h2>
+      By Stephen Leacock
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>CONTENTS</b>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_PREF"> PREFACE </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I.&mdash;SPOOF. A Thousand-Guinea Novel. New!
+      Fascinating! Perplexing! </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> II.&mdash;THE READING PUBLIC. A BOOK STORE STUDY
+      </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> III.&mdash;AFTERNOON ADVENTURES AT MY CLUB </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> 1.&mdash;The Anecdotes of Dr. So and So </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> 2.&mdash;The Shattered Health of Mr. Podge </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> 3.&mdash;The Amazing Travels of Mr. Yarner </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> 4.&mdash;The Spiritual Outlook of Mr. Doomer
+      </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> 5.&mdash;The Reminiscences of Mr. Apricot </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> 6.&mdash;The Last Man out of Europe </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> 7.&mdash;The War Mania of Mr. Jinks and Mr.
+      Blinks </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> 8.&mdash;The Ground Floor </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> 9.&mdash;The Hallucination of Mr. Butt </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> IV-RAM SPUDD THE NEW WORLD SINGER. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> V.&mdash;ARISTOCRATIC ANECDOTES OR LITTLE
+      STORIES OF GREAT </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> VI.&mdash;EDUCATION MADE AGREEABLE OR THE
+      DIVERSIONS OF A </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> VII.&mdash;AN EVERY-DAY EXPERIENCE </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> VIII&mdash;TRUTHFUL ORATORY </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> IX.&mdash;OUR LITERARY BUREAU </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> X.&mdash;SPEEDING UP BUSINESS </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> XI.&mdash;WHO IS ALSO WHO </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0027"> XII.&mdash;PASSIONATE PARAGRAPHS </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0028"> XIII.&mdash;WEEJEE THE PET DOG </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0029"> XIV.&mdash;SIDELIGHTS ON THE SUPERMEN </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0030"> XV.&mdash;THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0031"> XVI&mdash;THE FIRST NEWSPAPER </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0032"> XVII&mdash;IN THE GOOD TIME AFTER THE WAR </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      PREFACE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The prudent husbandman, after having taken from his field all the straw
+      that is there, rakes it over with a wooden rake and gets as much again.
+      The wise child, after the lemonade jug is empty, takes the lemons from the
+      bottom of it and squeezes them into a still larger brew. So does the
+      sagacious author, after having sold his material to the magazines and been
+      paid for it, clap it into book-covers and give it another squeeze. But in
+      the present case the author is of a nice conscience and anxious to place
+      responsibility where it is due. He therefore wishes to make all proper
+      acknowledgments to the editors of Vanity Fair, The American Magazine, The
+      Popular Magazine, Life, Puck, The Century, Methuen&rsquo;s Annual, and all
+      others who are in any way implicated in the making of this book.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      STEPHEN LEACOCK.
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      McGill University, Montreal. Oct. 1, 1915.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_TOC" id="link2H_TOC"> </a> <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      I.&mdash;SPOOF. A Thousand-Guinea Novel. New! Fascinating! Perplexing!
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER I
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Readers are requested to note that this novel has taken our special prize
+      of a cheque for a thousand guineas. This alone guarantees for all
+      intelligent readers a palpitating interest in every line of it. Among the
+      thousands of MSS. which reached us&mdash;many of them coming in carts
+      early in the morning, and moving in a dense phalanx, indistinguishable
+      from the Covent Garden Market waggons; others pouring down our coal-chute
+      during the working hours of the day; and others again being slipped
+      surreptitiously into our letter-box by pale, timid girls, scarcely more
+      than children, after nightfall (in fact many of them came in their
+      night-gowns),&mdash;this manuscript alone was the sole one&mdash;in fact
+      the only one&mdash;to receive the prize of a cheque of a thousand guineas.
+      To other competitors we may have given, inadvertently perhaps, a bag of
+      sovereigns or a string of pearls, but to this story alone is awarded the
+      first prize by the unanimous decision of our judges.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When we say that the latter body included two members of the Cabinet, two
+      Lords of the Admiralty, and two bishops, with power in case of dispute to
+      send all the MSS. to the Czar of Russia, our readers will breathe a sigh
+      of relief to learn that the decision was instant and unanimous. Each one
+      of them, in reply to our telegram, answered immediately SPOOF.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This novel represents the last word in up-to-date fiction. It is well
+      known that the modern novel has got far beyond the point of mere
+      story-telling. The childish attempt to INTEREST the reader has long since
+      been abandoned by all the best writers. They refuse to do it. The modern
+      novel must convey a message, or else it must paint a picture, or remove a
+      veil, or open a new chapter in human psychology. Otherwise it is no good.
+      SPOOF does all of these things. The reader rises from its perusal
+      perplexed, troubled, and yet so filled with information that rising itself
+      is a difficulty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We cannot, for obvious reasons, insert the whole of the first chapter. But
+      the portion here presented was praised by The Saturday Afternoon Review as
+      giving one of the most graphic and at the same time realistic pictures of
+      America ever written in fiction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Of the characters whom our readers are to imagine seated on the deck&mdash;on
+      one of the many decks (all connected by elevators)&mdash;of the
+      Gloritania, one word may be said. Vere de Lancy is (as the reviewers have
+      under oath declared) a typical young Englishman of the upper class. He is
+      nephew to the Duke of&mdash;, but of this fact no one on the ship, except
+      the captain, the purser, the steward, and the passengers are, or is,
+      aware.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In order entirely to conceal his identity, Vere de Lancy is travelling
+      under the assumed name of Lancy de Vere. In order the better to hide the
+      object of his journey, Lancy de Vere (as we shall now call him, though our
+      readers will be able at any moment to turn his name backwards) has given
+      it to be understood that he is travelling merely as a gentleman anxious to
+      see America. This naturally baffles all those in contact with him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The girl at his side&mdash;but perhaps we may best let her speak for
+      herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Somehow as they sat together on the deck of the great steamer in the
+      afterglow of the sunken sun, listening to the throbbing of the propeller
+      (a rare sound which neither of them of course had ever heard before), de
+      Vere felt that he must speak to her. Something of the mystery of the girl
+      fascinated him. What was she doing here alone with no one but her mother
+      and her maid, on the bosom of the Atlantic? Why was she here? Why was she
+      not somewhere else? The thing puzzled, perplexed him. It would not let him
+      alone. It fastened upon his brain. Somehow he felt that if he tried to
+      drive it away, it might nip him in the ankle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the end he spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you, too,&rdquo; he said, leaning over her deck-chair, &ldquo;are
+      going to America?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had suspected this ever since the boat left Liverpool. Now at length he
+      framed his growing conviction into words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she assented, and then timidly, &ldquo;it is 3,213
+      miles wide, is it not?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and 1,781 miles deep! It reaches from
+      the forty-ninth parallel to the Gulf of Mexico.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; cried the girl, &ldquo;what a vivid picture! I seem to
+      see it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Its major axis,&rdquo; he went on, his voice sinking almost to a
+      caress, &ldquo;is formed by the Rocky Mountains, which are practically a
+      prolongation of the Cordilleran Range. It is drained,&rdquo; he continued&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How splendid!&rdquo; said the girl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, is it not? It is drained by the Mississippi, by the St.
+      Lawrence, and&mdash;dare I say it?&mdash;by the Upper Colorado.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Somehow his hand had found hers in the half gloaming, but she did not
+      check him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go on,&rdquo; she said very simply; &ldquo;I think I ought to hear
+      it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The great central plain of the interior,&rdquo; he continued,
+      &ldquo;is formed by a vast alluvial deposit carried down as silt by the
+      Mississippi. East of this the range of the Alleghanies, nowhere more than
+      eight thousand feet in height, forms a secondary or subordinate axis from
+      which the watershed falls to the Atlantic.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was speaking very quietly but earnestly. No man had ever spoken to her
+      like this before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a wonderful picture!&rdquo; she murmured half to herself, half
+      aloud, and half not aloud and half not to herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Through the whole of it,&rdquo; de Vere went on, &ldquo;there run
+      railways, most of them from east to west, though a few run from west to
+      east. The Pennsylvania system alone has twenty-one thousand miles of
+      track.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Twenty-one thousand miles,&rdquo; she repeated; already she felt
+      her will strangely subordinate to his.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was holding her hand firmly clasped in his and looking into her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dare I tell you,&rdquo; he whispered, &ldquo;how many employees it
+      has?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she gasped, unable to resist.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A hundred and fourteen thousand,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was silence. They were both thinking. Presently she spoke, timidly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are there any cities there?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cities!&rdquo; he said enthusiastically, &ldquo;ah, yes! let me try
+      to give you a word-picture of them. Vast cities&mdash;with tall buildings,
+      reaching to the very sky. Why, for instance, the new Woolworth Building in
+      New York&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes,&rdquo; she broke in quickly, &ldquo;how high is it?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Seven hundred and fifty feet.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The girl turned and faced him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t bear it. Some
+      other time, perhaps, but not now.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She had risen and was gathering up her wraps. &ldquo;And you,&rdquo; she
+      said, &ldquo;why are you going to America?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;Because I want to see, to know, to
+      learn. And when I have learned and seen and known, I want other people to
+      see and to learn and to know. I want to write it all down, all the vast
+      palpitating picture of it. Ah! if I only could&mdash;I want to see&rdquo;
+      (and here he passed his hand through his hair as if trying to remember)
+      &ldquo;something of the relations of labour and capital, of the
+      extraordinary development of industrial machinery, of the new and
+      intricate organisation of corporation finance, and in particular I want to
+      try to analyse&mdash;no one has ever done it yet&mdash;the men who guide
+      and drive it all. I want to set down the psychology of the
+      multimillionaire!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He paused. The girl stood irresolute. She was thinking (apparently, for if
+      not, why stand there?).
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; she faltered, &ldquo;I could help you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I might.&rdquo; She hesitated. &ldquo;I&mdash;I&mdash;come
+      from America.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You!&rdquo; said de Vere in astonishment. &ldquo;With a face and
+      voice like yours! It is impossible!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The boldness of the compliment held her speechless for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;my people lived just outside of
+      Cohoes.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They couldn&rsquo;t have,&rdquo; he said passionately.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shouldn&rsquo;t speak to you like this,&rdquo; the girl went on,
+      &ldquo;but it&rsquo;s because I feel from what you have said that you know
+      and love America. And I think I can help you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean,&rdquo; he said, divining her idea, &ldquo;that you can
+      help me to meet a multimillionaire?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she answered, still hesitating.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know one?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; still hesitating, &ldquo;I know ONE.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She seemed about to say more, her lips had already opened, when suddenly
+      the dull raucous blast of the foghorn (they used a raucous one on this
+      ship on purpose) cut the night air. Wet fog rolled in about them, wetting
+      everything.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The girl shivered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must go,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;good night.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment de Vere was about to detain her. The wild thought leaped to
+      his mind to ask her her name or at least her mother&rsquo;s. With a
+      powerful effort he checked himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good night,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was gone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER II
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Limits of space forbid the insertion of the whole of this chapter. Its
+      opening contains one of the most vivid word-pictures of the inside of an
+      American customs house ever pictured in words. From the customs wharf de
+      Vere is driven in a taxi to the Belmont. Here he engages a room; here,
+      too, he sleeps; here also, though cautiously at first, he eats. All this
+      is so admirably described that only those who have driven in a taxi to an
+      hotel and slept there can hope to appreciate it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Limits of space also forbid our describing in full de Vere&rsquo;s vain
+      quest in New York of the beautiful creature whom he had met on the steamer
+      and whom he had lost from sight in the aigrette department of the customs
+      house. A thousand times he cursed his folly in not having asked her name.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meanwhile no word comes from her, till suddenly, mysteriously,
+      unexpectedly, on the fourth day a note is handed to de Vere by the Third
+      Assistant Head Waiter of the Belmont. It is addressed in a lady&rsquo;s
+      hand. He tears it open. It contains only the written words, &ldquo;Call on
+      Mr. J. Superman Overgold. He is a multimillionaire. He expects you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To leap into a taxi (from the third story of the Belmont) was the work of
+      a moment. To drive to the office of Mr. Overgold was less. The portion of
+      the novel which follows is perhaps the most notable part of it. It is this
+      part of the chapter which the Hibbert Journal declares to be the best
+      piece of psychological analysis that appears in any novel of the season.
+      We reproduce it here.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly, exactly,&rdquo; said de Vere, writing rapidly in his
+      note-book as he sat in one of the deep leather armchairs of the luxurious
+      office of Mr. Overgold. &ldquo;So you sometimes feel as if the whole thing
+      were not worth while.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do,&rdquo; said Mr. Overgold. &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t help asking
+      myself what it all means. Is life, after all, merely a series of
+      immaterial phenomena, self-developing and based solely on sensation and
+      reaction, or is it something else?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He paused for a moment to sign a cheque for $10,000 and throw it out of
+      the window, and then went on, speaking still with the terse brevity of a
+      man of business.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is sensation everywhere or is there perception too? On what
+      grounds, if any, may the hypothesis of a self-explanatory consciousness be
+      rejected? In how far are we warranted in supposing that innate ideas are
+      inconsistent with pure materialism?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      De Vere listened, fascinated. Fortunately for himself, he was a University
+      man, fresh from the examination halls of his Alma Mater. He was able to
+      respond at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think,&rdquo; he said modestly, &ldquo;I grasp your thought. You
+      mean&mdash;to what extent are we prepared to endorse Hegel&rsquo;s dictum
+      of immaterial evolution?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly,&rdquo; said Mr. Overgold. &ldquo;How far, if at all, do we
+      substantiate the Kantian hypothesis of the transcendental?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Precisely,&rdquo; said de Vere eagerly. &ldquo;And for what reasons
+      [naming them] must we reject Spencer&rsquo;s theory of the unknowable?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Entirely so,&rdquo; continued Mr. Overgold. &ldquo;And why, if at
+      all, does Bergsonian illusionism differ from pure nothingness?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They both paused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Overgold had risen. There was great weariness in his manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It saddens one, does it not?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had picked up a bundle of Panama two per cent. gold bonds and was
+      looking at them in contempt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The emptiness of it all!&rdquo; he muttered. He extended the bonds
+      to de Vere.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you want them,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;or shall I throw them
+      away?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give them to me,&rdquo; said de Vere quietly; &ldquo;they are not
+      worth the throwing.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; said Mr. Overgold, speaking half to himself, as he
+      replaced the bonds in his desk. &ldquo;It is a burden that I must carry
+      alone. I have no right to ask any one to share it. But come,&rdquo; he
+      continued, &ldquo;I fear I am sadly lacking in the duties of international
+      hospitality. I am forgetting what I owe to Anglo-American courtesy. I am
+      neglecting the new obligations of our common Indo-Chinese policy. My motor
+      is at the door. Pray let me take you to my house to lunch.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      De Vere assented readily, telephoned to the Belmont not to keep lunch
+      waiting for him, and in a moment was speeding up the magnificent Riverside
+      Drive towards Mr. Overgold&rsquo;s home. On the way Mr. Overgold pointed
+      out various objects of interest,&mdash;Grant&rsquo;s tomb, Lincoln&rsquo;s
+      tomb, Edgar Allan Poe&rsquo;s grave, the ticket office of the New York
+      Subway, and various other points of historic importance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On arriving at the house, de Vere was ushered up a flight of broad marble
+      steps to a hall fitted on every side with almost priceless objets d&rsquo;art
+      and others, ushered to the cloak-room and out of it, butlered into the
+      lunch-room and footmanned to a chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As they entered, a lady already seated at the table turned to meet them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One glance was enough&mdash;plenty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was she&mdash;the object of de Vere&rsquo;s impassioned quest. A rich
+      lunch-gown was girdled about her with a twelve-o&rsquo;clock band of
+      pearls.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She reached out her hand, smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dorothea,&rdquo; said the multimillionaire, &ldquo;this is Mr. de
+      Vere. Mr. de Vere&mdash;my wife.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER III
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Of this next chapter we need only say that the Blue Review (Adults Only)
+      declares it to be the most daring and yet conscientious handling of the
+      sex-problem ever attempted and done. The fact that the Congregational
+      Times declares that this chapter will undermine the whole foundations of
+      English Society and let it fall, we pass over: we hold certificates in
+      writing from a great number of the Anglican clergy, to the effect that
+      they have carefully read the entire novel and see nothing in it.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      . . . . . . .
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      They stood looking at one another.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you didn&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; she murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In a flash de Vere realised that she hadn&rsquo;t known that he didn&rsquo;t
+      know and knew now that he knew.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He found no words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The situation was a tense one. Nothing but the woman&rsquo;s innate tact
+      could save it. Dorothea Overgold rose to it with the dignity of a queen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned to her husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take your soup over to the window,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and eat
+      it there.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The millionaire took his soup to the window and sat beneath a little palm
+      tree, eating it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You didn&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; she repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said de Vere; &ldquo;how could I?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And yet,&rdquo; she went on, &ldquo;you loved me, although you didn&rsquo;t
+      know that I was married?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered de Vere simply. &ldquo;I loved you, in spite
+      of it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How splendid!&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a moment&rsquo;s silence. Mr. Overgold had returned to the
+      table, the empty plate in his hand. His wife turned to him again with the
+      same unfailing tact.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take your asparagus to the billiard-room,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and
+      eat it there.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does he know, too?&rdquo; asked de Vere.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Overgold?&rdquo; she said carelessly. &ldquo;I suppose he does.
+      Eh apres, mon ami?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      French? Another mystery! Where and how had she learned it? de Vere asked
+      himself. Not in France, certainly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fear that you are very young, amico mio,&rdquo; Dorothea went on
+      carelessly. &ldquo;After all, what is there wrong in it, piccolo pochito?
+      To a man&rsquo;s mind perhaps&mdash;but to a woman, love is love.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She beckoned to the butler.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take Mr. Overgold a cutlet to the music-room,&rdquo; she said,
+      &ldquo;and give him his gorgonzola on the inkstand in the library.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And now,&rdquo; she went on, in that caressing way which seemed so
+      natural to her, &ldquo;don&rsquo;t let us think about it any more! After
+      all, what is is, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose it is,&rdquo; said de Vere, half convinced in spite of
+      himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Or at any rate,&rdquo; said Dorothea, &ldquo;nothing can at the
+      same time both be and not be. But come,&rdquo; she broke off, gaily
+      dipping a macaroon in a glass of creme de menthe and offering it to him
+      with a pretty gesture of camaraderie, &ldquo;don&rsquo;t let&rsquo;s be
+      gloomy any more. I want to take you with me to the matinee.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is he coming?&rdquo; asked de Vere, pointing at Mr. Overgold&rsquo;s
+      empty chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Silly boy,&rdquo; laughed Dorothea. &ldquo;Of course John is
+      coming. You surely don&rsquo;t want to buy the tickets yourself.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      . . . . . . .
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      The days that followed brought a strange new life to de Vere.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothea was ever at his side. At the theatre, at the polo ground, in the
+      park, everywhere they were together. And with them was Mr. Overgold.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The three were always together. At times at the theatre Dorothea and de
+      Vere would sit downstairs and Mr. Overgold in the gallery; at other times,
+      de Vere and Mr. Overgold would sit in the gallery and Dorothea downstairs;
+      at times one of them would sit in Row A, another in Row B, and a third in
+      Row C; at other times two would sit in Row B and one in Row C; at the
+      opera, at times, one of the three would sit listening, the others talking,
+      at other times two listening and one talking, and at other times three
+      talking and none listening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus the three formed together one of the most perplexing, maddening
+      triangles that ever disturbed the society of the metropolis.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      . . . . . . .
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      The denouement was bound to come.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It came.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was late at night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      De Vere was standing beside Dorothea in the brilliantly lighted hall of
+      the Grand Palaver Hotel, where they had had supper. Mr. Overgold was busy
+      for a moment at the cashier&rsquo;s desk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dorothea,&rdquo; de Vere whispered passionately, &ldquo;I want to
+      take you away, away from all this. I want you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned and looked him full in the face. Then she put her hand in his,
+      smiling bravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will come,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen,&rdquo; he went on, &ldquo;the Gloritania sails for England
+      to-morrow at midnight. I have everything ready. Will you come?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;I will&rdquo;; and then
+      passionately, &ldquo;Dearest, I will follow you to England, to Liverpool,
+      to the end of the earth.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She paused in thought a moment and then added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come to the house just before midnight. William, the second
+      chauffeur (he is devoted to me), shall be at the door with the third car.
+      The fourth footman will bring my things&mdash;I can rely on him; the fifth
+      housemaid can have them all ready&mdash;she would never betray me. I will
+      have the undergardener&mdash;the sixth&mdash;waiting at the iron gate to
+      let you in; he would die rather than fail me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She paused again&mdash;then she went on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is only one thing, dearest, that I want to ask. It is not
+      much. I hardly think you would refuse it at such an hour. May I bring my
+      husband with me?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      De Vere&rsquo;s face blanched.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Must you?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think I must,&rdquo; said Dorothea. &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t know
+      how I&rsquo;ve grown to value, to lean upon, him. At times I have felt as
+      if I always wanted him to be near me; I like to feel wherever I am&mdash;at
+      the play, at a restaurant, anywhere &mdash;that I can reach out and touch
+      him. I know,&rdquo; she continued, &ldquo;that it&rsquo;s only a wild
+      fancy and that others would laugh at it, but you can understand, can you
+      not&mdash;carino caruso mio? And think, darling, in our new life, how busy
+      he, too, will be&mdash;making money for all of us&mdash;in a new money
+      market. It&rsquo;s just wonderful how he does it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A great light of renunciation lit up de Vere&rsquo;s face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bring him,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I knew that you would say that,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;and
+      listen, pochito pocket-edition, may I ask one thing more, one weeny thing?
+      William, the second chauffeur&mdash;I think he would fade away if I were
+      gone&mdash;may I bring him, too? Yes! O my darling, how can I repay you?
+      And the second footman, and the third housemaid&mdash;if I were gone I
+      fear that none of&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bring them all,&rdquo; said de Vere half bitterly; &ldquo;we will
+      all elope together.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And as he spoke Mr. Overgold sauntered over from the cashier&rsquo;s desk,
+      his open purse still in his hand, and joined them. There was a dreamy look
+      upon his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder,&rdquo; he murmured, &ldquo;whether personality survives
+      or whether it, too, when up against the irresistible, dissolves and
+      resolves itself into a series of negative reactions?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      De Vere&rsquo;s empty heart echoed the words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then they passed out and the night swallowed them up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      At a little before midnight on the next night, two motors filled with
+      muffled human beings might have been perceived, or seen, moving
+      noiselessly from Riverside Drive to the steamer wharf where lay the
+      Gloritania.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A night of intense darkness enveloped the Hudson. Outside the inside of
+      the dockside a dense fog wrapped the Statue of Liberty. Beside the steamer
+      customs officers and deportation officials moved silently to and fro in
+      long black cloaks, carrying little deportation lanterns in their hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To these Mr. Overgold presented in silence his deportation certificates,
+      granting his party permission to leave the United States under the
+      imbecility clause of the Interstate Commerce Act.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No objection was raised.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A few moments later the huge steamer was slipping away in the darkness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On its deck a little group of people, standing beside a pile of
+      first-class cabin luggage, directed a last sad look through their heavy
+      black disguise at the rapidly vanishing shore which they could not see.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      De Vere, who stood in the midst of them, clasping their hands, thus stood
+      and gazed his last at America.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Spoof!&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      (We admit that this final panorama, weird in its midnight mystery, and
+      filling the mind of the reader with a sense of something like awe, is only
+      appended to Spoof in order to coax him to read our forthcoming sequel,
+      Spiff!)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      II.&mdash;THE READING PUBLIC. A BOOK STORE STUDY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wish to look about the store? Oh, oh, by all means, sir,&rdquo; he
+      said. Then as he rubbed his hands together in an urbane fashion he
+      directed a piercing glance at me through his spectacles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;ll find some things that might interest you,&rdquo; he
+      said, &ldquo;in the back of the store on the left. We have there a series
+      of reprints&mdash;Universal Knowledge from Aristotle to Arthur Balfour&mdash;at
+      seventeen cents. Or perhaps you might like to look over the Pantheon of
+      Dead Authors at ten cents. Mr. Sparrow,&rdquo; he called, &ldquo;just show
+      this gentleman our classical reprints&mdash;the ten-cent series.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With that he waved his hand to an assistant and dismissed me from his
+      thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In other words, he had divined me in a moment. There was no use in my
+      having bought a sage-green fedora in Broadway, and a sporting tie done up
+      crosswise with spots as big as nickels. These little adornments can never
+      hide the soul within. I was a professor, and he knew it, or at least, as
+      part of his business, he could divine it on the instant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sales manager of the biggest book store for ten blocks cannot be
+      deceived in a customer. And he knew, of course, that, as a professor, I
+      was no good. I had come to the store, as all professors go to book stores,
+      just as a wasp comes to an open jar of marmalade. He knew that I would
+      hang around for two hours, get in everybody&rsquo;s way, and finally buy a
+      cheap reprint of the Dialogues of Plato, or the Prose Works of John
+      Milton, or Locke on the Human Understanding, or some trash of that sort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As for real taste in literature&mdash;the ability to appreciate at its
+      worth a dollar-fifty novel of last month, in a spring jacket with a tango
+      frontispiece&mdash;I hadn&rsquo;t got it and he knew it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He despised me, of course. But it is a maxim of the book business that a
+      professor standing up in a corner buried in a book looks well in a store.
+      The real customers like it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So it was that even so up-to-date a manager as Mr. Sellyer tolerated my
+      presence in a back corner of his store: and so it was that I had an
+      opportunity of noting something of his methods with his real customers&mdash;methods
+      so successful, I may say, that he is rightly looked upon by all the
+      publishing business as one of the mainstays of literature in America.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I had no intention of standing in the place and listening as a spy. In
+      fact, to tell the truth, I had become immediately interested in a new
+      translation of the Moral Discourses of Epictetus. The book was very neatly
+      printed, quite well bound and was offered at eighteen cents; so that for
+      the moment I was strongly tempted to buy it, though it seemed best to take
+      a dip into it first.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I had hardly read more than the first three chapters when my attention was
+      diverted by a conversation going on in the front of the store.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;re quite sure it&rsquo;s his LATEST?&rdquo; a fashionably
+      dressed lady was saying to Mr. Sellyer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, Mrs. Rasselyer,&rdquo; answered the manager. &ldquo;I
+      assure you this is his very latest. In fact, they only came in yesterday.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As he spoke, he indicated with his hand a huge pile of books, gayly
+      jacketed in white and blue. I could make out the title in big gilt
+      lettering&mdash;GOLDEN DREAMS.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; repeated Mr. Sellyer. &ldquo;This is Mr. Slush&rsquo;s
+      latest book. It&rsquo;s having a wonderful sale.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s all right, then,&rdquo; said the lady. &ldquo;You see,
+      one sometimes gets taken in so: I came in here last week and took two that
+      seemed very nice, and I never noticed till I got home that they were both
+      old books, published, I think, six months ago.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, dear me, Mrs. Rasselyer,&rdquo; said the manager in an
+      apologetic tone, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m extremely sorry. Pray let us send for
+      them and exchange them for you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, it does not matter,&rdquo; said the lady; &ldquo;of course I
+      didn&rsquo;t read them. I gave them to my maid. She probably wouldn&rsquo;t
+      know the difference, anyway.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose not,&rdquo; said Mr. Sellyer, with a condescending smile.
+      &ldquo;But of course, madam,&rdquo; he went on, falling into the easy chat
+      of the fashionable bookman, &ldquo;such mistakes are bound to happen
+      sometimes. We had a very painful case only yesterday. One of our oldest
+      customers came in in a great hurry to buy books to take on the steamer,
+      and before we realised what he had done&mdash;selecting the books I
+      suppose merely by the titles, as some gentlemen are apt to do&mdash;he had
+      taken two of last year&rsquo;s books. We wired at once to the steamer, but
+      I&rsquo;m afraid it&rsquo;s too late.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But now, this book,&rdquo; said the lady, idly turning over the
+      leaves, &ldquo;is it good? What is it about?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s an extremely POWERFUL thing,&rdquo; said Mr. Sellyer,
+      &ldquo;in fact, MASTERLY. The critics are saying that it&rsquo;s perhaps
+      THE most powerful book of the season. It has a&mdash;&rdquo; and here Mr.
+      Sellyer paused, and somehow his manner reminded me of my own when I am
+      explaining to a university class something that I don&rsquo;t know myself&mdash;&ldquo;It
+      has a&mdash;a&mdash;POWER, so to speak&mdash;a very exceptional power; in
+      fact, one may say without exaggeration it is the most POWERFUL book of the
+      month. Indeed,&rdquo; he added, getting on to easier ground, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s
+      having a perfectly wonderful sale.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You seem to have a great many of them,&rdquo; said the lady.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, we have to,&rdquo; answered the manager. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s a
+      regular rush on the book. Indeed, you know it&rsquo;s a book that is bound
+      to make a sensation. In fact, in certain quarters, they are saying that it&rsquo;s
+      a book that ought not to&mdash;&rdquo; And here Mr. Sellyer&rsquo;s voice
+      became so low and ingratiating that I couldn&rsquo;t hear the rest of the
+      sentence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, really!&rdquo; said Mrs. Rasselyer. &ldquo;Well, I think I&rsquo;ll
+      take it then. One ought to see what these talked-of things are about,
+      anyway.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She had already begun to button her gloves, and to readjust her feather
+      boa with which she had been knocking the Easter cards off the counter.
+      Then she suddenly remembered something.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I was forgetting,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Will you send
+      something to the house for Mr. Rasselyer at the same time? He&rsquo;s
+      going down to Virginia for the vacation. You know the kind of thing he
+      likes, do you not?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, perfectly, madam,&rdquo; said the manager. &ldquo;Mr. Rasselyer
+      generally reads works of&mdash;er&mdash;I think he buys mostly books on&mdash;er&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, travel and that sort of thing,&rdquo; said the lady.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Precisely. I think we have here,&rdquo; and he pointed to the
+      counter on the left, &ldquo;what Mr. Rasselyer wants.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He indicated a row of handsome books&mdash;&ldquo;Seven Weeks in the
+      Sahara, seven dollars; Six Months in a Waggon, six-fifty net; Afternoons
+      in an Oxcart, two volumes, four-thirty, with twenty off.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think he has read those,&rdquo; said Mrs. Rasselyer. &ldquo;At
+      least there are a good many at home that seem like that.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, very possibly&mdash;but here, now, Among the Cannibals of Corfu&mdash;yes,
+      that I think he has had&mdash;Among the&mdash;that, too, I think&mdash;but
+      this I am certain he would like, just in this morning&mdash;Among the
+      Monkeys of New Guinea&mdash;ten dollars, net.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And with this Mr. Sellyer laid his hand on a pile of new books, apparently
+      as numerous as the huge pile of Golden Dreams.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Among the Monkeys,&rdquo; he repeated, almost caressingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems rather expensive,&rdquo; said the lady.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, very much so&mdash;a most expensive book,&rdquo; the manager
+      repeated in a tone of enthusiasm. &ldquo;You see, Mrs. Rasselyer, it&rsquo;s
+      the illustrations, actual photographs&rdquo;&mdash;he ran the leaves over
+      in his fingers&mdash;&ldquo;of actual monkeys, taken with the camera&mdash;and
+      the paper, you notice&mdash;in fact, madam, the book costs, the mere
+      manufacture of it, nine dollars and ninety cents&mdash;of course we make
+      no profit on it. But it&rsquo;s a book we like to handle.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Everybody likes to be taken into the details of technical business; and of
+      course everybody likes to know that a bookseller is losing money. These, I
+      realised, were two axioms in the methods of Mr. Sellyer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So very naturally Mrs. Rasselyer bought Among the Monkeys, and in another
+      moment Mr. Sellyer was directing a clerk to write down an address on Fifth
+      Avenue, and was bowing deeply as he showed the lady out of the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As he turned back to his counter his manner seemed much changed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That Monkey book,&rdquo; I heard him murmur to his assistant,
+      &ldquo;is going to be a pretty stiff proposition.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But he had no time for further speculation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Another lady entered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This time even to an eye less trained than Mr. Sellyer&rsquo;s, the deep,
+      expensive mourning and the pensive face proclaimed the sentimental widow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Something new in fiction,&rdquo; repeated the manager, &ldquo;yes,
+      madam&mdash;here&rsquo;s a charming thing&mdash;Golden Dreams&rdquo;&mdash;he
+      hung lovingly on the words&mdash;&ldquo;a very sweet story, singularly
+      sweet; in fact, madam, the critics are saying it is the sweetest thing
+      that Mr. Slush has done.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it good?&rdquo; said the lady. I began to realise that all
+      customers asked this.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A charming book,&rdquo; said the manager. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a love
+      story&mdash;very simple and sweet, yet wonderfully charming. Indeed, the
+      reviews say it&rsquo;s the most charming book of the month. My wife was
+      reading it aloud only last night. She could hardly read for tears.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose it&rsquo;s quite a safe book, is it?&rdquo; asked the
+      widow. &ldquo;I want it for my little daughter.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, quite safe,&rdquo; said Mr. Sellyer, with an almost parental
+      tone, &ldquo;in fact, written quite in the old style, like the dear old
+      books of the past&mdash;quite like&rdquo;&mdash;here Mr. Sellyer paused
+      with a certain slight haze of doubt visible in his eye&mdash;&ldquo;like
+      Dickens and Fielding and Sterne and so on. We sell a great many to the
+      clergy, madam.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The lady bought Golden Dreams, received it wrapped up in green enamelled
+      paper, and passed out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you any good light reading for vacation time?&rdquo; called
+      out the next customer in a loud, breezy voice&mdash;he had the air of a
+      stock broker starting on a holiday.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Mr. Sellyer, and his face almost broke into a
+      laugh as he answered, &ldquo;here&rsquo;s an excellent thing&mdash;Golden
+      Dreams&mdash;quite the most humorous book of the season&mdash;simply
+      screaming&mdash;my wife was reading it aloud only yesterday. She could
+      hardly read for laughing.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the price, one dollar? One-fifty. All right, wrap it
+      up.&rdquo; There was a clink of money on the counter, and the customer was
+      gone. I began to see exactly where professors and college people who want
+      copies of Epictetus at 18 cents and sections of World Reprints of
+      Literature at 12 cents a section come in, in the book trade.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Judge!&rdquo; said the manager to the next customer, a huge,
+      dignified personage in a wide-awake hat, &ldquo;sea stories? Certainly.
+      Excellent reading, no doubt, when the brain is overcharged as yours must
+      be. Here is the very latest&mdash;Among the Monkeys of New Guinea, ten
+      dollars, reduced to four-fifty. The manufacture alone costs six-eighty. We&rsquo;re
+      selling it out. Thank you, Judge. Send it? Yes. Good morning.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After that the customers came and went in a string. I noticed that though
+      the store was filled with books&mdash;ten thousand of them, at a guess&mdash;Mr.
+      Sellyer was apparently only selling two. Every woman who entered went away
+      with Golden Dreams: every man was given a copy of the Monkeys of New
+      Guinea. To one lady Golden Dreams was sold as exactly the reading for a
+      holiday, to another as the very book to read AFTER a holiday; another
+      bought it as a book for a rainy day, and a fourth as the right sort of
+      reading for a fine day. The Monkeys was sold as a sea story, a land story,
+      a story of the jungle, and a story of the mountains, and it was put at a
+      price corresponding to Mr. Sellyer&rsquo;s estimate of the purchaser.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At last after a busy two hours, the store grew empty for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wilfred,&rdquo; said Mr. Sellyer, turning to his chief assistant,
+      &ldquo;I am going out to lunch. Keep those two books running as hard as
+      you can. We&rsquo;ll try them for another day and then cut them right out.
+      And I&rsquo;ll drop round to Dockem &amp; Discount, the publishers, and
+      make a kick about them, and see what they&rsquo;ll do.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I felt that I had lingered long enough. I drew near with the Epictetus in
+      my hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir,&rdquo; said Mr. Sellyer, professional again in a moment.
+      &ldquo;Epictetus? A charming thing. Eighteen cents. Thank you. Perhaps we
+      have some other things there that might interest you. We have a few
+      second-hand things in the alcove there that you might care to look at.
+      There&rsquo;s an Aristotle, two volumes&mdash;a very fine thing&mdash;practically
+      illegible, that you might like: and a Cicero came in yesterday&mdash;very
+      choice&mdash;damaged by damp&mdash;and I think we have a Machiavelli,
+      quite exceptional&mdash;practically torn to pieces, and the covers gone&mdash;a
+      very rare old thing, sir, if you&rsquo;re an expert.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, thanks,&rdquo; I said. And then from a curiosity that had been
+      growing in me and that I couldn&rsquo;t resist, &ldquo;That book&mdash;Golden
+      Dreams,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;you seem to think it a very wonderful work?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sellyer directed one of his shrewd glances at me. He knew I didn&rsquo;t
+      want to buy the book, and perhaps, like lesser people, he had his off
+      moments of confidence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A bad business,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The publishers have unloaded
+      the thing on us, and we have to do what we can. They&rsquo;re stuck with
+      it, I understand, and they look to us to help them. They&rsquo;re
+      advertising it largely and may pull it off. Of course, there&rsquo;s just
+      a chance. One can&rsquo;t tell. It&rsquo;s just possible we may get the
+      church people down on it and if so we&rsquo;re all right. But short of
+      that we&rsquo;ll never make it. I imagine it&rsquo;s perfectly rotten.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Haven&rsquo;t you read it?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me, no!&rdquo; said the manager. His air was that of a milkman
+      who is offered a glass of his own milk. &ldquo;A pretty time I&rsquo;d
+      have if I tried to READ the new books. It&rsquo;s quite enough to keep
+      track of them without that.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But those people,&rdquo; I went on, deeply perplexed, &ldquo;who
+      bought the book. Won&rsquo;t they be disappointed?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sellyer shook his head. &ldquo;Oh, no,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;you see,
+      they won&rsquo;t READ it. They never do.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But at any rate,&rdquo; I insisted, &ldquo;your wife thought it a
+      fine story.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sellyer smiled widely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not married, sir,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      III.&mdash;AFTERNOON ADVENTURES AT MY CLUB
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      1.&mdash;The Anecdotes of Dr. So and So
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      That is not really his name. I merely call him that from his manner of
+      talking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His specialty is telling me short anecdotes of his professional life from
+      day to day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They are told with wonderful dash and power, except for one slight
+      omission, which is, that you never know what the doctor is talking about.
+      Beyond this, his little stories are of unsurpassed interest&mdash;but let
+      me illustrate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He came into the semi-silence room of the club the other day and sat down
+      beside me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have something or other?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, thanks,&rdquo; I answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Smoke anything?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, thanks.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor turned to me. He evidently wanted to talk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been having a rather peculiar experience,&rdquo; he
+      said. &ldquo;Man came to me the other day&mdash;three or four weeks ago&mdash;and
+      said, &lsquo;Doctor, I feel out of sorts. I believe I&rsquo;ve got so and
+      so.&rsquo; &lsquo;Ah,&rsquo; I said, taking a look at him, &lsquo;been
+      eating so and so, eh?&rsquo; &lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; he said. &lsquo;Very good,&rsquo;
+      I said, &lsquo;take so and so.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, off the fellow went&mdash;I thought nothing of it&mdash;simply
+      wrote such and such in my note-book, such and such a date, symptoms such
+      and such&mdash;prescribed such and such, and so forth, you understand?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, perfectly, doctor,&rdquo; I answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good. Three days later&mdash;a ring at the bell in the evening&mdash;my
+      servant came to the surgery. &lsquo;Mr. So and So is here. Very anxious to
+      see you.&rsquo; &lsquo;All right!&rsquo; I went down. There he was, with
+      every symptom of so and so written all over him&mdash;every symptom of it&mdash;this
+      and this and this&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Awful symptoms, doctor,&rdquo; I said, shaking my head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are they not?&rdquo; he said, quite unaware that he hadn&rsquo;t
+      named any. &ldquo;There he was with every symptom, heart so and so, eyes
+      so and so, pulse this&mdash;I looked at him right in the eye and I said&mdash;&lsquo;Do
+      you want me to tell you the truth?&rsquo; &lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; he said.
+      &lsquo;Very good,&rsquo; I answered, &lsquo;I will. You&rsquo;ve got so
+      and so.&rsquo; He fell back as if shot. &lsquo;So and so!&rsquo; he
+      repeated, dazed. I went to the sideboard and poured him out a drink of
+      such and such. &lsquo;Drink this,&rsquo; I said. He drank it. &lsquo;Now,&rsquo;
+      I said, &lsquo;listen to what I say: You&rsquo;ve got so and so. There&rsquo;s
+      only one chance,&rsquo; I said, &lsquo;you must limit your eating and
+      drinking to such and such, you must sleep such and such, avoid every form
+      of such and such&mdash;I&rsquo;ll give you a cordial, so many drops every
+      so long, but mind you, unless you do so and so, it won&rsquo;t help you.&rsquo;
+      &lsquo;All right, very good.&rsquo; Fellow promised. Off he went.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor paused a minute and then resumed:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would you believe it&mdash;two nights later, I saw the fellow&mdash;after
+      the theatre, in a restaurant&mdash;whole party of people&mdash;big plate
+      of so and so in front of him&mdash;quart bottle of so and so on ice&mdash;such
+      and such and so forth. I stepped over to him&mdash;tapped him on the
+      shoulder: &lsquo;See here,&rsquo; I said, &lsquo;if you won&rsquo;t obey
+      my instructions, you can&rsquo;t expect me to treat you.&rsquo; I walked
+      out of the place.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what happened to him?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Died,&rdquo; said the doctor, in a satisfied tone. &ldquo;Died. I&rsquo;ve
+      just been filling in the certificate: So and so, aged such and such, died
+      of so and so!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An awful disease,&rdquo; I murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      2.&mdash;The Shattered Health of Mr. Podge
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How are you, Podge?&rdquo; I said, as I sat down in a leather
+      armchair beside him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I only meant &ldquo;How-do-you-do?&rdquo; but he rolled his big eyes
+      sideways at me in his flabby face (it was easier than moving his face) and
+      he answered:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not as well to-day as I was yesterday afternoon. Last
+      week I was feeling pretty good part of the time, but yesterday about four
+      o&rsquo;clock the air turned humid, and I don&rsquo;t feel so well.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have a cigarette?&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, thanks; I find they affect the bronchial toobes.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whose?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mine,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; I said, and I lighted one. &ldquo;So you find the
+      weather trying,&rdquo; I continued cheerfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, it&rsquo;s too humid. It&rsquo;s up to a saturation of
+      sixty-six. I&rsquo;m all right till it passes sixty-four. Yesterday
+      afternoon it was only about sixty-one, and I felt fine. But after that it
+      went up. I guess it must be a contraction of the epidermis pressing on
+      some of the sebaceous glands, don&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m sure it is,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;But why don&rsquo;t you
+      just sleep it off till it&rsquo;s over?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t like to sleep too much,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
+      afraid of it developing into hypersomnia. There are cases where it&rsquo;s
+      been known to grow into a sort of lethargy that pretty well stops all
+      brain action altogether&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That would be too bad,&rdquo; I murmured. &ldquo;What do you do to
+      prevent it?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I generally drink from half to three-quarters of a cup of black
+      coffee, or nearly black, every morning at from eleven to five minutes
+      past, so as to keep off hypersomnia. It&rsquo;s the best thing, the doctor
+      says.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aren&rsquo;t you afraid,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;of its keeping you
+      awake?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am,&rdquo; answered Podge, and a spasm passed over his big yellow
+      face. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m always afraid of insomnia. That&rsquo;s the worst
+      thing of all. The other night I went to bed about half-past ten, or
+      twenty-five minutes after,&mdash;I forget which,&mdash;and I simply couldn&rsquo;t
+      sleep. I couldn&rsquo;t. I read a magazine story, and I still couldn&rsquo;t;
+      and I read another, and still I couldn&rsquo;t sleep. It scared me bad.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, pshaw,&rdquo; I said; &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think sleep matters
+      as long as one eats properly and has a good appetite.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He shook his head very dubiously. &ldquo;I ate a plate of soup at lunch,&rdquo;
+      he said, &ldquo;and I feel it still.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You FEEL it!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; repeated Podge, rolling his eyes sideways in a pathetic
+      fashion that he had, &ldquo;I still feel it. I oughtn&rsquo;t to have
+      eaten it. It was some sort of a bean soup, and of course it was full of
+      nitrogen. I oughtn&rsquo;t to touch nitrogen,&rdquo; he added, shaking his
+      head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not take any nitrogen?&rdquo; I repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, the doctor&mdash;both doctors&mdash;have told me that. I can
+      eat starches, and albumens, all right, but I have to keep right away from
+      all carbons and nitrogens. I&rsquo;ve been dieting that way for two years,
+      except that now and again I take a little glucose or phosphates.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That must be a nice change,&rdquo; I said, cheerfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is,&rdquo; he answered in a grateful sort of tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a pause. I looked at his big twitching face, and listened to the
+      heavy wheezing of his breath, and I felt sorry for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See here, Podge,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;I want to give you some good
+      advice.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About what?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About your health.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes, do,&rdquo; he said. Advice about his health was right in
+      his line. He lived on it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, cut out all this fool business of diet and drugs and
+      nitrogen. Don&rsquo;t bother about anything of the sort. Forget it. Eat
+      everything you want to, just when you want it. Drink all you like. Smoke
+      all you can&mdash;and you&rsquo;ll feel a new man in a week.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Say, do you think so!&rdquo; he panted, his eyes filled with a new
+      light.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it,&rdquo; I answered. And as I left him I shook hands with
+      a warm feeling about my heart of being a benefactor to the human race.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Next day, sure enough, Podge&rsquo;s usual chair at the club was empty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Out getting some decent exercise,&rdquo; I thought. &ldquo;Thank
+      Heaven!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nor did he come the next day, nor the next, nor for a week.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Leading a rational life at last,&rdquo; I thought. &ldquo;Out in
+      the open getting a little air and sunlight, instead of sitting here
+      howling about his stomach.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The day after that I saw Dr. Slyder in black clothes glide into the club
+      in that peculiar manner of his, like an amateur undertaker.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hullo, Slyder,&rdquo; I called to him, &ldquo;you look as solemn as
+      if you had been to a funeral.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have,&rdquo; he said very quietly, and then added, &ldquo;poor
+      Podge!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What about him?&rdquo; I asked with sudden apprehension.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, he died on Tuesday,&rdquo; answered the doctor. &ldquo;Hadn&rsquo;t
+      you heard? Strangest case I&rsquo;ve known in years. Came home suddenly
+      one day, pitched all his medicines down the kitchen sink, ordered a couple
+      of cases of champagne and two hundred havanas, and had his housekeeper
+      cook a dinner like a Roman banquet! After being under treatment for two
+      years! Lived, you know, on the narrowest margin conceivable. I told him
+      and Silk told him&mdash;we all told him&mdash;his only chance was to keep
+      away from every form of nitrogenous ultra-stimulants. I said to him often,
+      &lsquo;Podge, if you touch heavy carbonized food, you&rsquo;re lost.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me,&rdquo; I thought to myself, &ldquo;there ARE such things
+      after all!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was a marvel,&rdquo; continued Slyder, &ldquo;that we kept him
+      alive at all. And, of course&rdquo;&mdash;here the doctor paused to ring
+      the bell to order two Manhattan cocktails&mdash;&ldquo;as soon as he
+      touched alcohol he was done.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So that was the end of the valetudinarianism of Mr. Podge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I have always considered that I killed him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But anyway, he was a nuisance at the club.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      3.&mdash;The Amazing Travels of Mr. Yarner
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      There was no fault to be found with Mr. Yarner till he made his trip
+      around the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was that, I think, which disturbed his brain and unfitted him for
+      membership in the club.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he would say, as he sat ponderously down with the air
+      of a man opening an interesting conversation, &ldquo;I was just figuring
+      it out that eleven months ago to-day I was in Pekin.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s odd,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;I was just reckoning that
+      eleven days ago I was in Poughkeepsie.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They don&rsquo;t call it Pekin over there,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s
+      sounded Pei-Chang.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s the same way with
+      Poughkeepsie, they pronounce it P&rsquo;Keepsie.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Chinese,&rdquo; he went on musingly, &ldquo;are a strange
+      people.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So are the people in P&rsquo;Keepsie,&rdquo; I added, &ldquo;awfully
+      strange.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That kind of retort would sometimes stop him, but not always. He was
+      especially dangerous if he was found with a newspaper in his hand; because
+      that meant that some item of foreign intelligence had gone to his brain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not that I should have objected to Yarner describing his travels. Any man
+      who has bought a ticket round the world and paid for it, is entitled to
+      that.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But it was his manner of discussion that I considered unpermissible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Last week, for example, in an unguarded moment I fell a victim. I had been
+      guilty of the imprudence&mdash;I forget in what connection&mdash;of
+      speaking of lions. I realized at once that I had done wrong&mdash;lions,
+      giraffes, elephants, rickshaws and natives of all brands, are topics to
+      avoid in talking with a traveller.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Speaking of lions,&rdquo; began Yarner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was right, of course; I HAD spoken of lions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&mdash;I shall never forget,&rdquo; he went on (of course, I knew
+      he never would), &ldquo;a rather bad scrape I got into in the up-country
+      of Uganda. Imagine yourself in a wild, rolling country covered here and
+      there with kwas along the sides of the nullahs.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I did so.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; continued Yarner, &ldquo;we were sitting in our tent
+      one hot night&mdash;too hot to sleep&mdash;when all at once we heard, not
+      ten feet in front of us, the most terrific roar that ever came from the
+      throat of a lion.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As he said this Yarner paused to take a gulp of bubbling whiskey and soda
+      and looked at me so ferociously that I actually shivered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then quite suddenly his manner cooled down in the strangest way, and his
+      voice changed to a commonplace tone as he said,&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps I ought to explain that we hadn&rsquo;t come up to the
+      up-country looking for big game. In fact, we had been down in the down
+      country with no idea of going higher than Mombasa. Indeed, our going even
+      to Mombasa itself was more or less an afterthought. Our first plan was to
+      strike across from Aden to Singapore. But our second plan was to strike
+      direct from Colombo to Karuchi&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what was your THIRD plan?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our third plan,&rdquo; said Yarner deliberately, feeling that the
+      talk was now getting really interesting, &ldquo;let me see, our third plan
+      was to cut across from Socotra to Tananarivo.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;However, all that was changed, and changed under the strangest
+      circumstances. We were sitting, Gallon and I, on the piazza of the Galle
+      Face Hotel in Colombo&mdash;you know the Galle Face?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I do not,&rdquo; I said very positively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good. Well, I was sitting on the piazza watching a snake
+      charmer who was seated, with a boa, immediately in front of me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor Gallon was actually within two feet of the hideous reptile.
+      All of a sudden the beast whirled itself into a coil, its eyes fastened
+      with hideous malignity on poor Gallon, and with its head erect it emitted
+      the most awful hiss I have heard proceed from the mouth of any living
+      snake.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here Yarner paused and took a long, hissing drink of whiskey and soda: and
+      then as the malignity died out of his face&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should explain,&rdquo; he went on, very quietly, &ldquo;that
+      Gallon was not one of our original party. We had come down to Colombo from
+      Mongolia, going by the Pekin Hankow and the Nippon Yushen Keisha.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That, I suppose, is the best way?&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. And oddly enough but for the accident of Gallon joining us, we
+      should have gone by the Amoy, Cochin, Singapore route, which was our first
+      plan. In fact, but for Gallon we should hardly have got through China at
+      all. The Boxer insurrection had taken place only fourteen years before our
+      visit, so you can imagine the awful state of the country.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our meeting with Gallon was thus absolutely providential. Looking
+      back on it, I think it perhaps saved our lives. We were in Mongolia (this,
+      you understand, was before we reached China), and had spent the night at a
+      small Yak about four versts from Kharbin, when all of a sudden, just
+      outside the miserable hut that we were in, we heard a perfect fusillade of
+      shots followed immediately afterwards by one of the most blood-curdling
+      and terrifying screams I have ever imagined&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;and that was how you met Gallon.
+      Well, I must be off.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And as I happened at that very moment to be rescued by an incoming friend,
+      who took but little interest in lions, and even less in Yarner, I have
+      still to learn why the lion howled so when it met Yarner. But surely the
+      lion had reason enough.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      4.&mdash;The Spiritual Outlook of Mr. Doomer
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      One generally saw old Mr. Doomer looking gloomily out of the windows of
+      the library of the club. If not there, he was to be found staring sadly
+      into the embers of a dying fire in a deserted sitting-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His gloom always appeared out of place as he was one of the richest of the
+      members.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the cause of it,&mdash;as I came to know,&mdash;was that he was
+      perpetually concerned with thinking about the next world. In fact he spent
+      his whole time brooding over it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I discovered this accidentally by happening to speak to him of the recent
+      death of Podge, one of our fellow members.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very sad,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;Podge&rsquo;s death.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; returned Mr. Doomer, &ldquo;very shocking. He was quite
+      unprepared to die.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you think so?&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m awfully sorry to
+      hear it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite unprepared,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;I had reason to know
+      it as one of his executors,&mdash;everything is confusion,&mdash;nothing
+      signed,&mdash;no proper power of attorney,&mdash;codicils drawn up in
+      blank and never witnessed,&mdash;in short, sir, no sense apparently of the
+      nearness of his death and of his duty to be prepared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;poor Podge didn&rsquo;t realise
+      that he was going to die.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, that&rsquo;s just it,&rdquo; resumed Mr. Doomer with something
+      like sternness, &ldquo;a man OUGHT to realise it. Every man ought to feel
+      that at any moment,&mdash;one can&rsquo;t tell when,&mdash;day or night,&mdash;he
+      may be called upon to meet his,&rdquo;&mdash;Mr. Doomer paused here as if
+      seeking a phrase&mdash;&ldquo;to meet his Financial Obligations, face to
+      face. At any time, sir, he may be hurried before the Judge,&mdash;or
+      rather his estate may be,&mdash;before the Judge of the probate court. It
+      is a solemn thought, sir. And yet when I come here I see about me men
+      laughing, talking, and playing billiards, as if there would never be a day
+      when their estate would pass into the hands of their administrators and an
+      account must be given of every cent.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But after all,&rdquo; I said, trying to fall in with his mood,
+      &ldquo;death and dissolution must come to all of us.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s just it,&rdquo; he said solemnly. &ldquo;They&rsquo;ve
+      dissolved the tobacco people, and they&rsquo;ve dissolved the oil people
+      and you can&rsquo;t tell whose turn it may be next.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Doomer was silent a moment and then resumed, speaking in a tone of
+      humility that was almost reverential.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And yet there is a certain preparedness for death, a certain
+      fitness to die that we ought all to aim at. Any man can at least think
+      solemnly of the Inheritance Tax, and reflect whether by a contract inter
+      vivos drawn in blank he may not obtain redemption; any man if he thinks
+      death is near may at least divest himself of his purely speculative
+      securities and trust himself entirely to those gold bearing bonds of the
+      great industrial corporations whose value will not readily diminish or
+      pass away.&rdquo; Mr. Doomer was speaking with something like religious
+      rapture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And yet what does one see?&rdquo; he continued. &ldquo;Men affected
+      with fatal illness and men stricken in years occupied still with idle talk
+      and amusements instead of reading the financial newspapers,&mdash;and at
+      the last carried away with scarcely time perhaps to send for their brokers
+      when it is already too late.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is very sad,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very,&rdquo; he repeated, &ldquo;and saddest of all, perhaps, is
+      the sense of the irrevocability of death and the changes that must come
+      after it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We were silent a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You think of these things a great deal, Mr. Doomer?&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;It may be that it is something in
+      my temperament, I suppose one would call it a sort of spiritual
+      mindedness. But I think of it all constantly. Often as I stand here beside
+      the window and see these cars go by&rdquo;&mdash;he indicated a passing
+      street car&mdash;&ldquo;I cannot but realise that the time will come when
+      I am no longer a managing director and wonder whether they will keep on
+      trying to hold the dividend down by improving the rolling stock or will
+      declare profits to inflate the securities. These mysteries beyond the
+      grave fascinate me, sir. Death is a mysterious thing. Who for example will
+      take my seat on the Exchange? What will happen to my majority control of
+      the power company? I shudder to think of the changes that may happen after
+      death in the assessment of my real estate.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;it is all beyond our control, isn&rsquo;t
+      it?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite,&rdquo; answered Mr. Doomer; &ldquo;especially of late years
+      one feels that, all said and done, we are in the hands of a Higher Power,
+      and that the State Legislature is after all supreme. It gives one a sense
+      of smallness. It makes one feel that in these days of drastic legislation
+      with all one&rsquo;s efforts the individual is lost and absorbed in the
+      controlling power of the state legislature. Consider the words that are
+      used in the text of the Income Tax Case, Folio Two, or the text of the
+      Trans-Missouri Freight Decision, and think of the revelation they contain.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I left Mr. Doomer still standing beside the window, musing on the vanity
+      of life and on things, such as the future control of freight rates, that
+      lay beyond the grave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I noticed as I left him how broken and aged he had come to look. It seemed
+      as if the chafings of the spirit were wearing the body that harboured it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was about a month later that I learned of Mr. Doomer&rsquo;s death.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dr. Slyder told me of it in the club one afternoon, over two cocktails in
+      the sitting-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A beautiful bedside,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;one of the most
+      edifying that I have ever attended. I knew that Doomer was failing and of
+      course the time came when I had to tell him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Mr. Doomer,&rsquo; I said, &lsquo;all that I, all that any
+      medical can do for you is done; you are going to die. I have to warn you
+      that it is time for other ministrations than mine.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Very good,&rsquo; he said faintly but firmly, &lsquo;send
+      for my broker.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They sent out and fetched Jarvis,&mdash;you know him I think,&mdash;most
+      sympathetic man and yet most business-like&mdash;he does all the firm&rsquo;s
+      business with the dying,&mdash;and we two sat beside Doomer holding him up
+      while he signed stock transfers and blank certificates.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Once he paused and turned his eyes on Jarvis. &lsquo;Read me from
+      the text of the State Inheritance Tax Statute,&rsquo; he said. Jarvis took
+      the book and read aloud very quietly and simply the part at the beginning&mdash;&lsquo;Whenever
+      and wheresoever it shall appear,&rsquo; down to the words, &lsquo;shall be
+      no longer a subject of judgment or appeal but shall remain in perpetual
+      possession.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Doomer listened with his eyes closed. The reading seemed to bring
+      him great comfort. When Jarvis ended he said with a sign, &lsquo;That
+      covers it. I&rsquo;ll put my faith in that.&rsquo; After that he was
+      silent a moment and then said: &lsquo;I wish I had already crossed the
+      river. Oh, to have already crossed the river and be safe on the other
+      side.&rsquo; We knew what he meant. He had always planned to move over to
+      New Jersey. The inheritance tax is so much more liberal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Presently it was all done.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;There,&rsquo; I said, &lsquo;it is finished now.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;No,&rsquo; he answered, &lsquo;there is still one thing.
+      Doctor, you&rsquo;ve been very good to me. I should like to pay your
+      account now without it being a charge on the estate. I will pay it as&rsquo;&mdash;he
+      paused for a moment and a fit of coughing seized him, but by an effort of
+      will he found the power to say&mdash;&lsquo;cash.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I took the account from my pocket (I had it with me, fearing the
+      worst), and we laid his cheque-book before him on the bed. Jarvis thinking
+      him too faint to write tried to guide his hand as he filled in the sum.
+      But he shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;The room is getting dim,&rsquo; he said. &lsquo;I can see
+      nothing but the figures.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Never mind,&rsquo; said Jarvis,&mdash;much moved, &lsquo;that&rsquo;s
+      enough.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Is it four hundred and thirty?&rsquo; he asked faintly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; I said, and I could feel the tears rising in my
+      eyes, &lsquo;and fifty cents.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After signing the cheque his mind wandered for a moment and he fell
+      to talking, with his eyes closed, of the new federal banking law, and of
+      the prospect of the reserve associations being able to maintain an
+      adequate gold supply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just at the last he rallied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;I want,&rsquo; he said in quite a firm voice, &lsquo;to do
+      something for both of you before I die.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Yes, yes,&rsquo; we said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;You are both interested, are you not,&rsquo; he murmured, in
+      City Traction?&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Yes, yes,&rsquo; we said. We knew of course that he was the
+      managing director.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He looked at us faintly and tried to speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Give him a cordial,&rsquo; said Jarvis. But he found his
+      voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;The value of that stock,&rsquo; he said, &lsquo;is going to
+      take a sudden&mdash;&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His voice grew faint.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Yes, yes,&rsquo; I whispered, bending over him (there were
+      tears in both our eyes), &lsquo;tell me is it going up, or going down?&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;It is going&rsquo;&mdash;he murmured,&mdash;then his eyes
+      closed&mdash;&lsquo;it is going&mdash;&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Yes, yes,&rsquo; I said, &lsquo;which?&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;It is going&rsquo;&mdash;he repeated feebly and then, quite
+      suddenly he fell back on the pillows and his soul passed. And we never
+      knew which way it was going. It was very sad. Later on, of course, after
+      he was dead, we knew, as everybody knew, that it went down.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      5.&mdash;The Reminiscences of Mr. Apricot
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rather a cold day, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo; I said as I entered the
+      club.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man I addressed popped his head out from behind a newspaper and I saw
+      it was old Mr. Apricot. So I was sorry that I had spoken.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not so cold as the winter of 1866,&rdquo; he said, beaming with
+      benevolence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had an egg-shaped head, bald, with some white hair fluffed about the
+      sides of it. He had a pink face with large blue eyes, behind his
+      spectacles, benevolent to the verge of imbecility.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was that a cold winter?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bitter cold,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I have never told you, have I,
+      of my early experiences in life?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think I have heard you mention them,&rdquo; I murmured, but he
+      had already placed a detaining hand on my sleeve. &ldquo;Sit down,&rdquo;
+      he said. Then he continued: &ldquo;Yes, it was a cold winter. I was going
+      to say that it was the coldest I have ever experienced, but that might be
+      an exaggeration. But it was certainly colder than any winter that YOU have
+      ever seen, or that we ever have now, or are likely to have. In fact the
+      winters NOW are a mere nothing,&rdquo;&mdash;here Mr. Apricot looked
+      toward the club window where the driven snow was beating in eddies against
+      the panes,&mdash;&ldquo;simply nothing. One doesn&rsquo;t feel them at
+      all,&rdquo;&mdash;here he turned his eyes towards the glowing fire that
+      flamed in the open fireplace. &ldquo;But when I was a boy things were very
+      different. I have probably never mentioned to you, have I, the
+      circumstances of my early life?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had, many times. But he had turned upon me the full beam of his
+      benevolent spectacles and I was too weak to interrupt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My father,&rdquo; went on Mr. Apricot, settling back in his chair
+      and speaking with a far-away look in his eyes, &ldquo;had settled on the
+      banks of the Wabash River&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, I know it well,&rdquo; I interjected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not as it was THEN,&rdquo; said Mr. Apricot very quickly. &ldquo;At
+      present as you, or any other thoughtless tourist sees it, it appears a
+      broad river pouring its vast flood in all directions. At the time I speak
+      of it was a mere stream scarcely more than a few feet in circumference.
+      The life we led there was one of rugged isolation and of sturdy
+      self-reliance and effort such as it is, of course, quite impossible for
+      YOU, or any other member of this club to understand,&mdash;I may give you
+      some idea of what I mean when I say that at that time there was no town
+      nearer to Pittsburgh than Chicago, or to St. Paul than Minneapolis&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Impossible!&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Apricot seemed not to notice the interruption.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There was no place nearer to Springfield than St. Louis,&rdquo; he
+      went on in a peculiar singsong voice, &ldquo;and there was nothing nearer
+      to Denver than San Francisco, nor to New Orleans than Rio Janeiro&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He seemed as if he would go on indefinitely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were speaking of your father?&rdquo; I interrupted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My father,&rdquo; said Mr. Apricot, &ldquo;had settled on the
+      banks, both banks, of the Wabash. He was like so many other men of his
+      time, a disbanded soldier, a veteran&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of the Mexican War or of the Civil War?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly,&rdquo; answered Mr. Apricot, hardly heeding the question,&mdash;&ldquo;of
+      the Mexican Civil War.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was he under Lincoln?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;OVER Lincoln,&rdquo; corrected Mr. Apricot gravely. And he added,&mdash;&ldquo;It
+      is always strange to me the way in which the present generation regards
+      Abraham Lincoln. To us, of course, at the time of which I speak, Lincoln
+      was simply one of ourselves.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In 1866?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This was 1856,&rdquo; said Mr. Apricot. &ldquo;He came often to my
+      father&rsquo;s cabin, sitting down with us to our humble meal of potatoes
+      and whiskey (we lived with a simplicity which of course you could not
+      possibly understand), and would spend the evening talking with my father
+      over the interpretation of the Constitution of the United States. We
+      children used to stand beside them listening open-mouthed beside the fire
+      in our plain leather night-gowns. I shall never forget how I was thrilled
+      when I first heard Lincoln lay down his famous theory of the territorial
+      jurisdiction of Congress as affected by the Supreme Court decision of
+      1857. I was only nine years old at the time, but it thrilled me!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it possible!&rdquo; I exclaimed, &ldquo;how ever could you
+      understand it?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! my friend,&rdquo; said Mr. Apricot, almost sadly, &ldquo;in
+      THOSE days the youth of the United States were EDUCATED in the real sense
+      of the word. We children followed the decisions of the Supreme Court with
+      breathless interest. Our books were few but they were GOOD. We had nothing
+      to read but the law reports, the agriculture reports, the weather
+      bulletins and the almanacs. But we read them carefully from cover to
+      cover. How few boys have the industry to do so now, and yet how many of
+      our greatest men were educated on practically nothing else except the law
+      reports and the almanacs. Franklin, Jefferson, Jackson, Johnson,&rdquo;&mdash;Mr.
+      Apricot had relapsed into his sing-song voice, and his eye had a sort of
+      misty perplexity in it as he went on,&mdash;&ldquo;Harrison, Thomson,
+      Peterson, Emerson&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I thought it better to stop him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you were speaking,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;of the winter of
+      eighteen fifty-six.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of eighteen forty-six,&rdquo; corrected Mr. Apricot. &ldquo;I shall
+      never forget it. How distinctly I remember,&mdash;I was only a boy then,
+      in fact a mere lad,&mdash;fighting my way to school. The snow lay in some
+      places as deep as ten feet&rdquo;&mdash; Mr. Apricot paused&mdash;&ldquo;and
+      in others twenty. But we made our way to school in spite of it. No boys of
+      to-day,&mdash;nor, for the matter of that, even men such as you,&mdash;would
+      think of attempting it. But we were keen, anxious to learn. Our school was
+      our delight. Our teacher was our friend. Our books were our companions. We
+      gladly trudged five miles to school every morning and seven miles back at
+      night, did chores till midnight, studied algebra by candlelight&rdquo;&mdash;here
+      Mr. Apricot&rsquo;s voice had fallen into its characteristic sing-song,
+      and his eyes were vacant&mdash;&ldquo;rose before daylight, dressed by
+      lamplight, fed the hogs by lantern-light, fetched the cows by twilight&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I thought it best to stop him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you did eventually get off the farm, did you not?&rdquo; I
+      asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;my opportunity presently came to me
+      as it came in those days to any boy of industry and intelligence who
+      knocked at the door of fortune till it opened. I shall never forget how my
+      first chance in life came to me. A man, an entire stranger, struck no
+      doubt with the fact that I looked industrious and willing, offered me a
+      dollar to drive a load of tan bark to the nearest market&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where was that?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Minneapolis, seven hundred miles. But I did it. I shall never
+      forget my feelings when I found myself in Minneapolis with one dollar in
+      my pocket and with the world all before me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did you do?&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;First,&rdquo; said Mr. Apricot, &ldquo;I laid out seventy-five
+      cents for a suit of clothes (things were cheap in those days); for fifty
+      cents I bought an overcoat, for twenty-five I got a hat, for ten cents a
+      pair of boots, and with the rest of my money I took a room for a month
+      with a Swedish family, paid a month&rsquo;s board with a German family,
+      arranged to have my washing done by an Irish family, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But surely, Mr. Apricot&mdash;&rdquo; I began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But at this point the young man who is generally in attendance on old Mr.
+      Apricot when he comes to the club, appeared on the scene.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid,&rdquo; he said to me aside as Mr. Apricot was
+      gathering up his newspapers and his belongings, &ldquo;that my uncle has
+      been rather boring you with his reminiscences.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not at all,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;he&rsquo;s been telling me all
+      about his early life in his father&rsquo;s cabin on the Wabash&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was afraid so,&rdquo; said the young man. &ldquo;Too bad. You see
+      he wasn&rsquo;t really there at all.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not there!&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. He only fancies that he was. He was brought up in New York, and
+      has never been west of Philadelphia. In fact he has been very well to do
+      all his life. But he found that it counted against him: it hurt him in
+      politics. So he got into the way of talking about the Middle West and
+      early days there, and sometimes he forgets that he wasn&rsquo;t there.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meantime Mr. Apricot was ready.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-bye, good-bye,&rdquo; he said very cheerily,&mdash;&ldquo;A
+      delightful chat. We must have another talk over old times soon. I must
+      tell you about my first trip over the Plains at the time when I was
+      surveying the line of the Union Pacific. You who travel nowadays in your
+      Pullman coaches and observation cars can have no idea&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come along, uncle,&rdquo; said the young man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      6.&mdash;The Last Man out of Europe
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      He came into the club and shook hands with me as if he hadn&rsquo;t seen
+      me for a year. In reality I had seen him only eleven months ago, and hadn&rsquo;t
+      thought of him since.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How are you, Parkins?&rdquo; I said in a guarded tone, for I saw at
+      once that there was something special in his manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have a cig?&rdquo; he said as he sat down on the edge of an
+      arm-chair, dangling his little boot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Any young man who calls a cigarette a &ldquo;cig&rdquo; I despise. &ldquo;No,
+      thanks,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Try one,&rdquo; he went on, &ldquo;they&rsquo;re Hungarian. They&rsquo;re
+      some I managed to bring through with me out of the war zone.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As he said &ldquo;war zone,&rdquo; his face twisted up into a sort of
+      scowl of self-importance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I looked at Parkins more closely and I noticed that he had on some sort of
+      foolish little coat, short in the back, and the kind of bow-tie that they
+      wear in the Hungarian bands of the Sixth Avenue restaurants.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then I knew what the trouble was. He was the last man out of Europe, that
+      is to say, the latest last man. There had been about fourteen others in
+      the club that same afternoon. In fact they were sitting all over it in
+      Italian suits and Viennese overcoats, striking German matches on the soles
+      of Dutch boots. These were the &ldquo;war zone&rdquo; men and they had
+      just got out &ldquo;in the clothes they stood up in.&rdquo; Naturally they
+      hated to change.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So I knew all that this young man, Parkins, was going to say, and all
+      about his adventures before he began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;we were caught right in the war zone.
+      By Jove, I never want to go through again what I went through.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With that, he sank back into the chair in the pose of a man musing in
+      silence over the recollection of days of horror.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I let him muse. In fact I determined to let him muse till he burst before
+      I would ask him what he had been through. I knew it, anyway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Presently he decided to go on talking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We were at Izzl,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;in the Carpathians, Loo
+      Jones and I. We&rsquo;d just made a walking tour from Izzl to Fryzzl and
+      back again.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why did you come back?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Back where?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Back to Izzl,&rdquo; I explained, &ldquo;after you&rsquo;d once got
+      to Fryzzl. It seems unnecessary, but, never mind, go on.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was in July,&rdquo; he continued. &ldquo;There wasn&rsquo;t a
+      sign of war, not a sign. We heard that Russia was beginning to mobilize,&rdquo;
+      (at this word be blew a puff from his cigarette and then repeated &ldquo;beginning
+      to mobilize&rdquo;) &ldquo;but we thought nothing of it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course not,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then we heard that Hungary was calling out the Honveds, but we
+      still thought nothing of it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly not,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And then we heard&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;you heard that Italy was calling
+      out the Trombonari, and that Germany was calling in all the
+      Landesgeschutzshaft.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked at me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How did you know that?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We heard it over here,&rdquo; I answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he went on, &ldquo;next thing we knew we heard that
+      the Russians were at Fryzzl.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Great Heavens!&rdquo; I exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, at Fryzzl, not a hundred miles away. The very place we&rsquo;d
+      been at only two weeks before.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Think of it!&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;If you&rsquo;d been where you
+      were two weeks after you were there, or if the Russians had been a hundred
+      miles away from where they were, or even if Fryzzl had been a hundred
+      miles nearer to Izzl&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We both shuddered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was a close call,&rdquo; said Parkins. &ldquo;However, I said to
+      Loo Jones, &lsquo;Loo, it&rsquo;s time to clear out.&rsquo; And then, I
+      tell you, our trouble began. First of all we couldn&rsquo;t get any money.
+      We went to the bank at Izzl and tried to get them to give us American
+      dollars for Hungarian paper money; we had nothing else.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And wouldn&rsquo;t they?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Absolutely refused. They said they hadn&rsquo;t any.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By George,&rdquo; I exclaimed. &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t war dreadful?
+      What on earth did you do?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Took a chance,&rdquo; said Parkins. &ldquo;Went across to the
+      railway station to buy our tickets with the Hungarian money.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you get them?&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; assented Parkins. &ldquo;They said they&rsquo;d sell us
+      tickets. But they questioned us mighty closely; asked where we wanted to
+      go to, what class we meant to travel by, how much luggage we had to
+      register and so on. I tell you the fellow looked at us mighty closely.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Were you in those clothes?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Parkins, &ldquo;but I guess he suspected we weren&rsquo;t
+      Hungarians. You see, we couldn&rsquo;t either of us speak Hungarian. In
+      fact we spoke nothing but English.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That would give him a clue,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;However,&rdquo; he went on, &ldquo;he was civil enough in a way. We
+      asked when was the next train to the sea coast, and he said there wasn&rsquo;t
+      any.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No trains?&rdquo; I repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not to the coast. The man said the reason was because there wasn&rsquo;t
+      any railway to the coast. But he offered to sell us tickets to Vienna. We
+      asked when the train would go and he said there wouldn&rsquo;t be one for
+      two hours. So there we were waiting on that wretched little platform,&mdash;no
+      place to sit down, no shade, unless one went into the waiting room itself,&mdash;for
+      two mortal hours. And even then the train was an hour and a half late!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An hour and a half late!&rdquo; I repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yep!&rdquo; said Parkins, &ldquo;that&rsquo;s what things were like
+      over there. So when we got on board the train we asked a man when it was
+      due to get to Vienna, and he said he hadn&rsquo;t the faintest idea!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good heavens!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not the faintest idea. He told us to ask the conductor or one of
+      the porters. No, sir, I&rsquo;ll never forget that journey through to
+      Vienna,&mdash;nine mortal hours! Nothing to eat, not a bite, except just
+      in the middle of the day when they managed to hitch on a dining-car for a
+      while. And they warned everybody that the dining-car was only on for an
+      hour and a half. Commandeered, I guess after that,&rdquo; added Parkins,
+      puffing his cigarette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;we got to Vienna at last. I&rsquo;ll
+      never forget the scene there, station full of people, trains coming and
+      going, men, even women, buying tickets, big piles of luggage being shoved
+      on trucks. It gave one a great idea of the reality of things.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It must have,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor old Loo Jones was getting pretty well used up with it all.
+      However, we determined to see it through somehow.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did you do next?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tried again to get money: couldn&rsquo;t&mdash;they changed our
+      Hungarian paper into Italian gold, but they refused to give us American
+      money.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hoarding it?&rdquo; I hinted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly,&rdquo; said Parkins, &ldquo;hoarding it all for the war.
+      Well anyhow we got on a train for Italy and there our troubles began all
+      over again:&mdash;train stopped at the frontier,&mdash;officials (fellows
+      in Italian uniforms) went all through it, opening hand baggage&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not hand baggage!&rdquo; I gasped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir, even the hand baggage. Opened it all, or a lot of it
+      anyway, and scribbled chalk marks over it. Yes, and worse than that,&mdash;I
+      saw them take two fellows and sling them clear off the train,&mdash;they
+      slung them right out on to the platform.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What for?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Heaven knows,&rdquo; said Parkins,&mdash;&ldquo;they said they had
+      no tickets. In war time you know, when they&rsquo;re mobilizing, they won&rsquo;t
+      let a soul ride on a train without a ticket.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Infernal tyranny,&rdquo; I murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t it? However, we got to Genoa at last, only to find that
+      not a single one of our trunks had come with us!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Confiscated?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; said Parkins, &ldquo;the head baggage
+      man (he wears a uniform, you know, in Italy just like a soldier) said it
+      was because we&rsquo;d forgotten to check them in Vienna. However there we
+      were waiting for twenty-four hours with nothing but our valises.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Right at the station?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, at a hotel. We got the trunks later. They telegraphed to Vienna
+      for them and managed to get them through somehow,&mdash;in a baggage car,
+      I believe.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And after that, I suppose, you had no more trouble.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Trouble,&rdquo; said Parkins, &ldquo;I should say we had. Couldn&rsquo;t
+      get a steamer! They said there was none sailing out of Genoa for New York
+      for three days! All cancelled, I guess, or else rigged up as cruisers.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What on earth did you do?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stuck it out as best we could: stayed right there in the hotel.
+      Poor old Jones was pretty well collapsed! Couldn&rsquo;t do anything but
+      sleep and eat, and sit on the piazza of the hotel.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you got your steamer at last?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he admitted, &ldquo;we got it. But I never want to go
+      through another voyage like that again, no sir!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What was wrong with it?&rdquo; I asked, &ldquo;bad weather?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, calm, but a peculiar calm, glassy, with little ripples on the
+      water,&mdash;uncanny sort of feeling.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What was wrong with the voyage?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, just the feeling of it,&mdash;everything under strict rule you
+      know&mdash;no lights anywhere except just the electric lights,&mdash;smoking-room
+      closed tight at eleven o&rsquo;clock,&mdash;decks all washed down every
+      night&mdash;officers up on the bridge all day looking out over the sea,&mdash;no,
+      sir, I want no more of it. Poor old Loo Jones, I guess he&rsquo;s quite
+      used up: he can&rsquo;t speak of it at all: just sits and broods, in fact
+      I doubt...&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At this moment Parkins&rsquo;s conversation was interrupted by the entry
+      of two newcomers into the room. One of them had on a little Hungarian suit
+      like the one Parkins wore, and was talking loudly as they came in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he was saying, &ldquo;we were caught there fair and
+      square right in the war zone. We were at Izzl in the Carpathians, poor old
+      Parkins and I&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We looked round.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was Loo Jones, describing his escape from Europe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      7.&mdash;The War Mania of Mr. Jinks and Mr. Blinks
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      They were sitting face to face at a lunch table at the club so near to me
+      that I couldn&rsquo;t avoid hearing what they said. In any case they are
+      both stout men with gurgling voices which carry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What Kitchener ought to do,&rdquo;&mdash;Jinks was saying in a loud
+      voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So I knew at once that he had the prevailing hallucination. He thought he
+      was commanding armies in Europe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After which I watched him show with three bits of bread and two olives and
+      a dessert knife the way in which the German army could be destroyed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Blinks looked at Jinks&rsquo; diagram with a stern impassive face,
+      modelled on the Sunday supplement photogravures of Lord Kitchener.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your flank would be too much exposed,&rdquo; he said, pointing to
+      Jinks&rsquo; bread. He spoke with the hard taciturnity of a Joffre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My reserves cover it,&rdquo; said Jinks, moving two pepper pots to
+      the support of the bread.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mind you,&rdquo; Jinks went on, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t say Kitchener
+      WILL do this: I say this is what he OUGHT to do: it&rsquo;s exactly the
+      tactics of Kuropatkin outside of Mukden and it&rsquo;s precisely the same
+      turning movement that Grant used before Richmond.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Blinks nodded gravely. Anybody who has seen the Grand Duke Nicholoevitch
+      quietly accepting the advice of General Ruski under heavy artillery fire,
+      will realize Blinks&rsquo; manner to a nicety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And, oddly enough, neither of them, I am certain, has ever had any larger
+      ideas about the history of the Civil War than what can be got from reading
+      Uncle Tom&rsquo;s Cabin and seeing Gillette play Secret Service. But this
+      is part of the mania. Jinks and Blinks had suddenly developed the
+      hallucination that they knew the history of all wars by a sort of
+      instinct.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They rose soon after that, dusted off their waistcoats with their napkins
+      and waddled heavily towards the door. I could hear them as they went
+      talking eagerly of the need of keeping the troops in hard training. They
+      were almost brutal in their severity. As they passed out of the door,&mdash;one
+      at a time to avoid crowding,&mdash;they were still talking about it. Jinks
+      was saying that our whole generation is overfed and soft. If he had his
+      way he would take every man in the United States up to forty- seven years
+      of age (Jinks is forty-eight) and train him to a shadow. Blinks went
+      further. He said they should be trained hard up to fifty. He is fifty-one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After that I used to notice Jinks and Blinks always together in the club,
+      and always carrying on the European War.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I never knew which side they were on. They seemed to be on both. One day
+      they commanded huge armies of Russians, and there was one week when Blinks
+      and Jinks at the head of vast levies of Cossacks threatened to overrun the
+      whole of Western Europe. It was dreadful to watch them burning churches
+      and monasteries and to see Jinks throw whole convents full of white robed
+      nuns into the flames like so much waste paper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a time I feared they would obliterate civilization itself. Then
+      suddenly Blinks decided that Jinks&rsquo; Cossacks were no good, not
+      properly trained. He converted himself on the spot into a Prussian Field
+      Marshal, declared himself organised to a pitch of organisation of which
+      Jinks could form no idea, and swept Jinks&rsquo; army off the earth,
+      without using any men at all, by sheer organisation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In this way they moved to and fro all winter over the map of Europe,
+      carrying death and destruction everywhere and revelling in it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But I think I liked best the wild excitement of their naval battles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jinks generally fancied himself a submarine and Blinks acted the part of a
+      first-class battleship. Jinks would pop his periscope out of the water,
+      take a look at Blinks merely for the fraction of a second, and then, like
+      a flash, would dive under water again and start firing his torpedoes. He
+      explained that he carried six.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But he was never quick enough for Blinks. One glimpse of his periscope
+      miles and miles away was enough. Blinks landed him a contact shell in the
+      side, sunk him with all hands, and then lined his yards with men and
+      cheered. I have known Blinks sink Jinks at two miles, six miles&mdash;and
+      once&mdash;in the club billiard room just after the battle of the Falkland
+      Islands,&mdash;he got him fair and square at ten nautical miles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jinks of course claimed that he was not sunk. He had dived. He was two
+      hundred feet under water quietly smiling at Blinks through his periscope.
+      In fact the number of things that Jinks has learned to do through his
+      periscope passes imagination.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Whenever I see him looking across at Blinks with his eyes half closed and
+      with a baffling, quizzical expression in them, I know that he is looking
+      at him through his periscope. Now is the time for Blinks to watch out. If
+      he relaxes his vigilance for a moment he&rsquo;ll be torpedoed as he sits,
+      and sent flying, whiskey and soda and all, through the roof of the club,
+      while Jinks dives into the basement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Indeed it has come about of late, I don&rsquo;t know just how, that Jinks
+      has more or less got command of the sea. A sort of tacit understanding has
+      been reached that Blinks, whichever army he happens at the moment to
+      command, is invincible on land. But Jinks, whether as a submarine or a
+      battleship, controls the sea. No doubt this grew up in the natural
+      evolution of their conversation. It makes things easier for both. Jinks
+      even asks Blinks how many men there are in an army division, and what a
+      sotnia of Cossacks is and what the Army Service Corps means. And Jinks in
+      return has become a recognized expert in torpedoes and has taken to
+      wearing a blue serge suit and referring to Lord Beresford as Charley.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But what I noticed chiefly about the war mania of Jinks and Blinks was
+      their splendid indifference to slaughter. They had gone into the war with
+      a grim resolution to fight it out to a finish. If Blinks thought to
+      terrify Jinks by threatening to burn London, he little knew his man.
+      &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; said Jinks, taking a fresh light for his cigar,
+      &ldquo;burn it! By doing so, you destroy, let us say, two million of my
+      women and children? Very good. Am I injured by that? No. You merely
+      stimulate me to recruiting.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was something awful in the grimness of the struggle as carried on by
+      Blinks and Jinks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The rights of neutrals and non-combatants, Red Cross nurses, and
+      regimental clergymen they laughed to scorn. As for moving-picture men and
+      newspaper correspondents, Jinks and Blinks hanged them on every tree in
+      Belgium and Poland.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With combatants in this frame of mind the war I suppose might have lasted
+      forever.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But it came to an end accidentally,&mdash;fortuitously, as all great wars
+      are apt to. And by accident also, I happened to see the end of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was late one evening. Jinks and Blinks were coming down the steps of
+      the club, and as they came they were speaking with some vehemence on their
+      favourite topic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I tell you,&rdquo; Jinks was saying, &ldquo;war is a great thing.
+      We needed it, Blinks. We were all getting too soft, too scared of
+      suffering and pain. We wilt at a bayonet charge, we shudder at the thought
+      of wounds. Bah!&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;what does it matter if a few
+      hundred thousands of human beings are cut to pieces. We need to get back
+      again to the old Viking standard, the old pagan ideas of suffering&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And as he spoke he got it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The steps of the club were slippery with the evening&rsquo;s rain,&mdash;not
+      so slippery as the frozen lakes of East Prussia or the hills where Jinks
+      and Blinks had been campaigning all winter, but slippery enough for a
+      stout man whose nation has neglected his training. As Jinks waved his
+      stick in the air to illustrate the glory of a bayonet charge, he slipped
+      and fell sideways on the stone steps. His shin bone smacked against the
+      edge of the stone in a way that was pretty well up to the old Viking
+      standard of such things. Blinks with the shock of the collision fell also,&mdash;backwards
+      on the top step, his head striking first. He lay, to all appearance, as
+      dead as the most insignificant casualty in Servia.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I watched the waiters carrying them into the club, with that new field
+      ambulance attitude towards pain which is getting so popular. They had
+      evidently acquired precisely the old pagan attitude that Blinks and Jinks
+      desired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the evening after that I saw Blinks and Jinks, both more or less
+      bandaged, sitting in a corner of the club beneath a rubber tree, making
+      peace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jinks was moving out of Montenegro and Blinks was foregoing all claims to
+      Polish Prussia; Jinks was offering Alsace-Lorraine to Blinks, and Blinks
+      in a fit of chivalrous enthusiasm was refusing to take it. They were
+      disbanding troops, blowing up fortresses, sinking their warships and
+      offering indemnities which they both refused to take. Then as they talked,
+      Jinks leaned forward and said something to Blinks in a low voice,&mdash;a
+      final proposal of terms evidently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Blinks nodded, and Jinks turned and beckoned to a waiter, with the words,&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One Scotch whiskey and soda, and one stein of Wurtemburger Bier&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And when I heard this, I knew that the war was over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      8.&mdash;The Ground Floor
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      I hadn&rsquo;t seen Ellesworth since our college days, twenty years
+      before, at the time when he used to borrow two dollars and a half from the
+      professor of Public Finance to tide him over the week end.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then quite suddenly he turned up at the club one day and had afternoon tea
+      with me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His big clean shaven face had lost nothing of its impressiveness, and his
+      spectacles had the same glittering magnetism as in the days when he used
+      to get the college bursar to accept his note of hand for his fees.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And he was still talking European politics just as he used to in the days
+      of our earlier acquaintance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mark my words,&rdquo; he said across the little tea-table, with one
+      of the most piercing glances I have ever seen, &ldquo;the whole Balkan
+      situation was only a beginning. We are on the eve of a great pan-Slavonic
+      upheaval.&rdquo; And then he added, in a very quiet, casual tone: &ldquo;By
+      the way, could you let me have twenty-five dollars till to-morrow?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A pan-Slavonic movement!&rdquo; I ejaculated. &ldquo;Do you really
+      think it possible? No, I couldn&rsquo;t.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must remember,&rdquo; Ellesworth went on, &ldquo;Russia means
+      to reach out and take all she can get;&rdquo; and he added, &ldquo;how
+      about fifteen till Friday?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She may reach for it,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;but I doubt if she&rsquo;ll
+      get anything. I&rsquo;m sorry. I haven&rsquo;t got it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;re forgetting the Bulgarian element,&rdquo; he continued,
+      his animation just as eager as before. &ldquo;The Slavs never forget what
+      they owe to one another.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here Ellesworth drank a sip of tea and then said quietly, &ldquo;Could you
+      make it ten till Saturday at twelve?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I looked at him more closely. I noticed now his frayed cuffs and the
+      dinginess of his over-brushed clothes. Not even the magnetism of his
+      spectacles could conceal it. Perhaps I had been forgetting something,
+      whether the Bulgarian element or not.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I compromised at ten dollars till Saturday.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Slav,&rdquo; said Ellesworth, as he pocketed the money, &ldquo;is
+      peculiar. He never forgets.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you doing now?&rdquo; I asked him. &ldquo;Are you still in
+      insurance?&rdquo; I had a vague recollection of him as employed in that
+      business.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;I gave it up. I didn&rsquo;t like
+      the outlook. It was too narrow. The atmosphere cramped me. I want,&rdquo;
+      he said, &ldquo;a bigger horizon.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite so,&rdquo; I answered quietly. I had known men before who had
+      lost their jobs. It is generally the cramping of the atmosphere that does
+      it. Some of them can use up a tremendous lot of horizon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At present,&rdquo; Ellesworth went on, &ldquo;I am in finance. I&rsquo;m
+      promoting companies.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; I said. I had seen companies promoted before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just now,&rdquo; continued Ellesworth, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m working on
+      a thing that I think will be rather a big thing. I shouldn&rsquo;t want it
+      talked about outside, but it&rsquo;s a matter of taking hold of the cod
+      fisheries of the Grand Banks,&mdash;practically amalgamating them&mdash;and
+      perhaps combining with them the entire herring output, and the whole of
+      the sardine catch of the Mediterranean. If it goes through,&rdquo; he
+      added, &ldquo;I shall be in a position to let you in on the ground floor.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I knew the ground floor of old. I have already many friends sitting on it;
+      and others who have fallen through it into the basement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I said, &ldquo;thank you,&rdquo; and he left me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was Ellesworth, wasn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo; said a friend of mine
+      who was near me. &ldquo;Poor devil. I knew him slightly,&mdash;always full
+      of some new and wild idea of making money. He was talking to me the other
+      day of the possibility of cornering all the huckleberry crop and making
+      refined sugar. Isn&rsquo;t it amazing what fool ideas fellows like him are
+      always putting up to business men?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We both laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After that I didn&rsquo;t see Ellesworth for some weeks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then I met him in the club again. How he paid his fees there I do not
+      know.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This time he was seated among a litter of foreign newspapers with a cup of
+      tea and a ten-cent package of cigarettes beside him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have one of these cigarettes,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I get them
+      specially. They are milder than what we have in the club here.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They certainly were.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Note what I say,&rdquo; Ellesworth went on. &ldquo;The French
+      Republic is going to gain from now on a stability that it never had.&rdquo;
+      He seemed greatly excited about it. But his voice changed to a quiet tone
+      as he added, &ldquo;Could you, without inconvenience, let me have five
+      dollars?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So I knew that the cod-fish and the sardines were still unamalgamated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What about the fisheries thing?&rdquo; I asked. &ldquo;Did it go
+      through?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The fisheries? No, I gave it up. I refused to go forward with it.
+      The New York people concerned were too shy, too timid to tackle it. I
+      finally had to put it to them very straight that they must either stop
+      shilly-shallying and declare themselves, or the whole business was off.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did they declare themselves?&rdquo; I questioned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They did,&rdquo; said Ellesworth, &ldquo;but I don&rsquo;t regret
+      it. I&rsquo;m working now on a much bigger thing,&mdash;something with
+      greater possibilities in it. When the right moment comes I&rsquo;ll let
+      you in on the ground floor.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I thanked him and we parted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next time I saw Ellesworth he told me at once that he regarded Albania
+      as unable to stand by itself. So I gave him five dollars on the spot and
+      left him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A few days after that he called me up on the telephone to tell me that the
+      whole of Asia Minor would have to be redistributed. The redistribution
+      cost me five dollars more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then I met him on the street, and he said that Persia was disintegrating,
+      and took from me a dollar and a half.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When I passed him next in the street he was very busy amalgamating Chinese
+      tramways. It appeared that there was a ground floor in China, but I kept
+      off it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Each time I saw Ellesworth he looked a little shabbier than the last. Then
+      one day he called me up on the telephone, and made an appointment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His manner when I joined him was full of importance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want you at once,&rdquo; he said in a commanding tone, &ldquo;to
+      write me your cheque for a hundred dollars.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the matter?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am now able,&rdquo; said Ellesworth, &ldquo;to put you in on the
+      ground floor of one of the biggest things in years.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;the ground floor is no place for me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t misunderstand me,&rdquo; said Ellesworth. &ldquo;This
+      is a big thing. It&rsquo;s an idea I&rsquo;ve been working on for some
+      time,&mdash;making refined sugar from the huckleberry crop. It&rsquo;s a
+      certainty. I can get you shares now at five dollars. They&rsquo;ll go to
+      five hundred when we put them on the market,&mdash;and I can run you in
+      for a block of stock for promotion services as well. All you have to do is
+      to give me right now a hundred dollars,&mdash;cash or your cheque,&mdash;and
+      I can arrange the whole thing for you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Ellesworth,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;I hope you won&rsquo;t
+      mind if I give you a little bit of good advice. Why not drop all this idea
+      of quick money? There&rsquo;s nothing in it. The business world has grown
+      too shrewd for it. Take an ordinary decent job and stick to it. Let me use
+      my influence,&rdquo; I added, &ldquo;to try and get you into something
+      with a steady salary, and with your brains you&rsquo;re bound to get on in
+      time.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ellesworth looked pained. A &ldquo;steady job&rdquo; sounded to him like a
+      &ldquo;ground floor&rdquo; to me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After that I saw nothing of him for weeks. But I didn&rsquo;t forget him.
+      I looked about and secured for him a job as a canvassing agent for a book
+      firm at a salary of five dollars a week, and a commission of one-tenth of
+      one per cent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I was waiting to tell him of his good luck, when I chanced to see him at
+      the club again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But he looked transformed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had on a long frock coat that reached nearly to his knees. He was
+      leading a little procession of very heavy men in morning coats, upstairs
+      towards the private luncheon rooms. They moved like a funeral, puffing as
+      they went. I had seen company directors before and I knew what they were
+      at sight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a small club and rather inconvenient,&rdquo; Ellesworth
+      was saying, &ldquo;and the horizon of some of its members rather narrow,&rdquo;
+      here he nodded to me as he passed,&mdash;&ldquo;but I can give you a
+      fairly decent lunch.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I watched them as they disappeared upstairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s Ellesworth, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo; said a man near me.
+      It was the same man who had asked about him before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; I answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Giving a lunch to his directors, I suppose,&rdquo; said my friend;
+      &ldquo;lucky dog.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His directors?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, hadn&rsquo;t you heard? He&rsquo;s just cleaned up half a
+      million or more,&mdash;some new scheme for making refined sugar out of
+      huckleberries. Isn&rsquo;t it amazing what shrewd ideas these big business
+      men get hold of? They say they&rsquo;re unloading the stock at five
+      hundred dollars. It only cost them about five to organize. If only one
+      could get on to one of these things early enough, eh?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I assented sadly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the next time I am offered a chance on the ground floor I am going to
+      take it, even if it&rsquo;s only the barley floor of a brewery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It appears that there is such a place after all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      9.&mdash;The Hallucination of Mr. Butt
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It is the hallucination of Mr. Butt&rsquo;s life that he lives to do good.
+      At whatever cost of time or trouble to himself, he does it. Whether people
+      appear to desire it or not, he insists on helping them along.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His time, his company and his advice are at the service not only of those
+      who seek them but of those who, in the mere appearances of things, are not
+      asking for them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      You may see the beaming face of Mr. Butt appear at the door of all those
+      of his friends who are stricken with the minor troubles of life. Whenever
+      Mr. Butt learns that any of his friends are moving house, buying
+      furniture, selling furniture, looking for a maid, dismissing a maid,
+      seeking a chauffeur, suing a plumber or buying a piano,&mdash;he is at
+      their side in a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So when I met him one night in the cloak room of the club putting on his
+      raincoat and his galoshes with a peculiar beaming look on his face, I knew
+      that he was up to some sort of benevolence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come upstairs,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;and play billiards.&rdquo; I
+      saw from his general appearance that it was a perfectly safe offer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear fellow,&rdquo; said Mr. Butt, &ldquo;I only wish I could. I
+      wish I had the time. I am sure it would cheer you up immensely if I could.
+      But I&rsquo;m just going out.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are you off to?&rdquo; I asked, for I knew he wanted me to
+      say it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m going out to see the Everleigh-Joneses,&mdash;you know
+      them? no?&mdash;just come to the city, you know, moving into their new
+      house, out on Seldom Avenue.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;that&rsquo;s away out in the suburbs, is
+      it not, a mile or so beyond the car tracks?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Something like that,&rdquo; answered Mr. Butt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And it&rsquo;s going on for ten o&rsquo;clock and it&rsquo;s
+      starting to rain&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pooh, pooh,&rdquo; said Mr. Butt, cheerfully, adjusting his
+      galoshes. &ldquo;I never mind the rain,&mdash;does one good. As to their
+      house. I&rsquo;ve not been there yet but I can easily find it. I&rsquo;ve
+      a very simple system for finding a house at night by merely knocking at
+      the doors in the neighborhood till I get it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t it rather late to go there?&rdquo; I protested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear fellow,&rdquo; said Mr. Butt warmly, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t
+      mind that a bit. The way I look at it is, here are these two young people,
+      only married a few weeks, just moving into their new house, everything
+      probably upside down, no one there but themselves, no one to cheer them
+      up,&rdquo;&mdash;he was wriggling into his raincoat as he spoke and
+      working himself into a frenzy of benevolence,&mdash;&ldquo;good gracious,
+      I only learned at dinner time that they had come to town, or I&rsquo;d
+      have been out there days ago,&mdash;days ago&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And with that Mr. Butt went bursting forth into the rain, his face shining
+      with good will under the street lamps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next day I saw him again at the club at lunch time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; I asked, &ldquo;did you find the Joneses?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did,&rdquo; said Mr. Butt, &ldquo;and by George I was glad that I&rsquo;d
+      gone&mdash;quite a lot of trouble to find the house (though I didn&rsquo;t
+      mind that; I expected it)&mdash;had to knock at twenty houses at least to
+      get it,&mdash;very dark and wet out there, &mdash;no street lights yet,&mdash;however
+      I simply pounded at the doors until some one showed a light&mdash;at every
+      house I called out the same things, &lsquo;Do you know where the Everleigh
+      Joneses live?&rsquo; They didn&rsquo;t. &lsquo;All right,&rsquo; I said,
+      &lsquo;go back to bed. Don&rsquo;t bother to come down.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I got to the right spot at last. I found the house all dark.
+      Jones put his head out of an upper window. Hullo,&rsquo; I called out;
+      &lsquo;it&rsquo;s Butt.&rsquo; &lsquo;I&rsquo;m awfully sorry,&rsquo; he
+      said, &lsquo;we&rsquo;ve gone to bed.&rsquo; &lsquo;My dear boy,&rsquo; I
+      called back, &lsquo;don&rsquo;t apologize at all. Throw me down the key
+      and I&rsquo;ll wait while you dress. I don&rsquo;t mind a bit.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just think of it,&rdquo; continued Mr. Butt, &ldquo;those two poor
+      souls going to bed at half past ten, through sheer dullness! By George, I
+      was glad I&rsquo;d come. &lsquo;Now then,&rsquo; I said to myself, &lsquo;let&rsquo;s
+      cheer them up a little, let&rsquo;s make things a little brighter here.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, down they came and we sat there on furniture cases and things
+      and had a chat. Mrs. Jones wanted to make me some coffee. &lsquo;My dear
+      girl,&rsquo; I said (I knew them both when they were children) &lsquo;I
+      absolutely refuse. Let ME make it.&rsquo; They protested. I insisted. I
+      went at it,&mdash;kitchen all upset&mdash;had to open at least twenty tins
+      to get the coffee. However, I made it at last. &lsquo;Now,&rsquo; I said,
+      &lsquo;drink it.&rsquo; They said they had some an hour or so ago. &lsquo;Nonsense,&rsquo;
+      I said, &lsquo;drink it.&rsquo; Well, we sat and chatted away till
+      midnight. They were dull at first and I had to do all the talking. But I
+      set myself to it. I can talk, you know, when I try. Presently about
+      midnight they seemed to brighten up a little. Jones looked at his watch.
+      &lsquo;By Jove,&rsquo; he said, in an animated way, &lsquo;it&rsquo;s
+      after midnight.&rsquo; I think he was pleased at the way the evening was
+      going; after that we chatted away more comfortably. Every little while
+      Jones would say, &lsquo;By Jove, it&rsquo;s half past twelve,&rsquo; or
+      &lsquo;it&rsquo;s one o&rsquo;clock,&rsquo; and so on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I took care, of course, not to stay too late. But when I left them
+      I promised that I&rsquo;d come back to-day to help straighten things up.
+      They protested, but I insisted.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That same day Mr. Butt went out to the suburbs and put the Joneses&rsquo;
+      furniture to rights.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I worked all afternoon,&rdquo; he told me afterwards,&mdash;&ldquo;hard
+      at it with my coat off&mdash;got the pictures up first&mdash;they&rsquo;d
+      been trying to put them up by themselves in the morning. I had to take
+      down every one of them&mdash;not a single one right,&mdash;&lsquo;Down
+      they come,&rsquo; I said, and went at it with a will.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A few days later Mr. Butt gave me a further report. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he
+      said, &ldquo;the furniture is all unpacked and straightened out but I don&rsquo;t
+      like it. There&rsquo;s a lot of it I don&rsquo;t quite like. I half feel
+      like advising Jones to sell it and get some more. But I don&rsquo;t want
+      to do that till I&rsquo;m quite certain about it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After that Mr. Butt seemed much occupied and I didn&rsquo;t see him at the
+      club for some time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How about the Everleigh-Joneses?&rdquo; I asked. &ldquo;Are they
+      comfortable in their new house?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Butt shook his head. &ldquo;It won&rsquo;t do,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I
+      was afraid of it from the first. I&rsquo;m moving Jones in nearer to town.
+      I&rsquo;ve been out all morning looking for an apartment; when I get the
+      right one I shall move him. I like an apartment far better than a house.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So the Joneses in due course of time were moved. After that Mr. Butt was
+      very busy selecting a piano, and advising them on wall paper and woodwork.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were hardly settled in their new home when fresh trouble came to
+      them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you heard about Everleigh-Jones?&rdquo; said Mr. Butt one day
+      with an anxious face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; I answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He&rsquo;s ill&mdash;some sort of fever&mdash;poor chap&mdash;been
+      ill three days, and they never told me or sent for me&mdash;just like
+      their grit&mdash;meant to fight it out alone. I&rsquo;m going out there at
+      once.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From day to day I had reports from Mr. Butt of the progress of Jones&rsquo;s
+      illness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I sit with him every day,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Poor chap,&mdash;he
+      was very bad yesterday for a while,&mdash;mind wandered&mdash;quite
+      delirious&mdash;I could hear him from the next room&mdash;seemed to think
+      some one was hunting him&mdash;&lsquo;Is that damn old fool gone,&rsquo; I
+      heard him say.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I went in and soothed him. &lsquo;There is no one here, my dear
+      boy,&rsquo; I said, &lsquo;no one, only Butt.&rsquo; He turned over and
+      groaned. Mrs. Jones begged me to leave him. &lsquo;You look quite used up,&rsquo;
+      she said. &lsquo;Go out into the open air.&rsquo; &lsquo;My dear Mrs.
+      Jones,&rsquo; I said, &lsquo;what DOES it matter about me?&rsquo;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Eventually, thanks no doubt to Mr. Butt&rsquo;s assiduous care,
+      Everleigh-Jones got well.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Mr. Butt to me a few weeks later, &ldquo;Jones is
+      all right again now, but his illness has been a long hard pull. I haven&rsquo;t
+      had an evening to myself since it began. But I&rsquo;m paid, sir, now,
+      more than paid for anything I&rsquo;ve done,&mdash;the gratitude of those
+      two people&mdash;it&rsquo;s unbelievable &mdash;you ought to see it. Why
+      do you know that dear little woman is so worried for fear that my strength
+      has been overtaxed that she wants me to take a complete rest and go on a
+      long trip somewhere&mdash;suggested first that I should go south. &lsquo;My
+      dear Mrs. Jones,&rsquo; I said laughing, &lsquo;that&rsquo;s the ONE place
+      I will not go. Heat is the one thing I CAN&rsquo;T stand.&rsquo; She wasn&rsquo;t
+      nonplussed for a moment. &lsquo;Then go north,&rsquo; she said. &lsquo;Go
+      up to Canada, or better still go to Labrador,&rsquo;&mdash;and in a minute
+      that kind little woman was hunting up railway maps to see how far north I
+      could get by rail. &lsquo;After that,&rsquo; she said, &lsquo;you can go
+      on snowshoes.&rsquo; She&rsquo;s found that there&rsquo;s a steamer to
+      Ungava every spring and she wants me to run up there on one steamer and
+      come back on the next.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It must be very gratifying,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, it is, it is,&rdquo; said Mr. Butt warmly. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s
+      well worth anything I do. It more than repays me. I&rsquo;m alone in the
+      world and my friends are all I have. I can&rsquo;t tell you how it goes to
+      my heart when I think of all my friends, here in the club and in the town,
+      always glad to see me, always protesting against my little kindnesses and
+      yet never quite satisfied about anything unless they can get my advice and
+      hear what I have to say.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take Jones for instance,&rdquo; he continued&mdash;&ldquo;do you
+      know, really now as a fact,&mdash;the hall porter assures me of it,&mdash;every
+      time Everleigh-Jones enters the club here the first thing he does is to
+      sing out, &lsquo;Is Mr. Butt in the club?&rsquo; It warms me to think of
+      it.&rdquo; Mr. Butt paused, one would have said there were tears in his
+      eyes. But if so the kindly beam of his spectacles shone through them like
+      the sun through April rain. He left me and passed into the cloak room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had just left the hall when a stranger entered, a narrow, meek man with
+      a hunted face. He came in with a furtive step and looked about him
+      apprehensively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is Mr. Butt in the club?&rdquo; he whispered to the hall porter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir, he&rsquo;s just gone into the cloak room, sir, shall I&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the man had turned and made a dive for the front door and had
+      vanished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is that?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s a new member, sir, Mr. Everleigh-Jones,&rdquo; said
+      the hall porter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      IV-RAM SPUDD THE NEW WORLD SINGER.
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      Is He Divinely Inspired? Or Is He Not? At Any Rate We Discovered Him.
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      [Footnote: Mr. Spudd was discovered by the author for the New York Life.
+      He is already recognized as superior to Tennyson and second only, as a
+      writer of imagination, to the Sultan of Turkey.]
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The discovery of a new poet is always a joy to the cultivated world. It is
+      therefore with the greatest pleasure that we are able to announce that we
+      ourselves, acting quite independently and without aid from any of the
+      English reviews of the day, have discovered one. In the person of Mr. Ram
+      Spudd, of whose work we give specimens below, we feel that we reveal to
+      our readers a genius of the first order. Unlike one of the most recently
+      discovered English poets who is a Bengalee, and another who is a
+      full-blooded Yak, Mr. Spudd is, we believe, a Navajo Indian. We believe
+      this from the character of his verse. Mr. Spudd himself we have not seen.
+      But when he forwarded his poems to our office and offered with
+      characteristic modesty to sell us his entire works for seventy-five cents,
+      we felt in closing with his offer that we were dealing not only with a
+      poet, but with one of nature&rsquo;s gentlemen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Spudd, we understand, has had no education. Other newly discovered
+      poets have had, apparently, some. Mr. Spudd has had, evidently, none. We
+      lay stress on this point. Without it we claim it is impossible to
+      understand his work.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What we particularly like about Ram Spudd, and we do not say this because
+      we discovered him but because we believe it and must say it, is that he
+      belongs not to one school but to all of them. As a nature poet we doubt
+      very much if he has his equal; as a psychologist, we are sure he has not.
+      As a clear lucid thinker he is undoubtedly in the first rank; while as a
+      mystic he is a long way in front of it. The specimens of Mr. Spudd&rsquo;s
+      verse which we append herewith were selected, we are happy to assure our
+      readers, purely at random from his work. We first blindfolded ourselves
+      and then, standing with our feet in warm water and having one hand tied
+      behind our back, we groped among the papers on our desk before us and
+      selected for our purpose whatever specimens first came to hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As we have said, or did we say it, it is perhaps as a nature poet that Ram
+      Spudd excels. Others of our modern school have carried the observation of
+      natural objects to a high degree of very nice precision, but with Mr.
+      Spudd the observation of nature becomes an almost scientific process.
+      Nothing escapes him. The green of the grass he detects as in an instant.
+      The sky is no sooner blue than he remarks it with unerring certainty.
+      Every bird note, every bee call, is familiar to his trained ear. Perhaps
+      we cannot do better than quote the opening lines of a singularly beautiful
+      sample of Ram Spudd&rsquo;s genius which seems to us the last word in
+      nature poetry. It is called, with characteristic daintiness&mdash;
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+      SPRING THAW IN THE
+   AHUNTSIC WOODS, NEAR PASPEBIAC,
+      PASSAMOQUODDY COUNTY
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      (We would like to say that, to our ears at least, there is a music in this
+      title like the sound of falling water, or of chopped ice. But we must not
+      interrupt ourselves. We now begin. Listen.)
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ The thermometer is standing this morning at thirty-
+   three decimal one.
+ As a consequence it is freezing in the shade, but
+   it is thawing in the sun.
+ There is a certain amount of snow on the ground,
+   but of course not too much.
+ The air is what you would call humid, but not
+   disagreeable to the touch.
+ Where I am standing I find myself practically
+   surrounded by trees,
+ It is simply astonishing the number of the different
+   varieties one sees.
+ I&rsquo;ve grown so wise I can tell each different tree
+   by seeing it glisten,
+ But if that test fails I simply put my ear to the
+   tree and listen,
+ And, well, I suppose it is only a silly fancy of
+   mine perhaps,
+ But do you know I&rsquo;m getting to tell different trees
+   by the sound of their saps.
+ After I have noticed all the trees, and named those
+   I know in words,
+ I stand quite still and look all round to see if
+   there are any birds,
+ And yesterday, close where I was standing, sitting
+   in some brush on the snow,
+ I saw what I was practically absolutely certain was
+   an early crow.
+ I sneaked up ever so close and was nearly beside
+   it, when say!
+ It turned and took one look at me, and flew away.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      But we should not wish our readers to think that Ram Spudd is always and
+      only the contemplative poet of the softer aspects of nature. Oh, by no
+      means. There are times when waves of passion sweep over him in such
+      prodigious volume as to roll him to and fro like a pebble in the surf.
+      Gusts of emotion blow over him with such violence as to hurl him pro and
+      con with inconceivable fury. In such moods, if it were not for the relief
+      offered by writing verse we really do not know what would happen to him.
+      His verse written under the impulse of such emotions marks him as one of
+      the greatest masters of passion, wild and yet restrained, objectionable
+      and yet printable, that have appeared on this side of the Atlantic. We
+      append herewith a portion, or half portion, of his little gem entitled
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+   YOU
+
+   You!
+ With your warm, full, rich, red, ripe lips,
+ And your beautifully manicured finger-tips!
+   You!
+ With your heaving, panting, rapidly expanding and
+   contracting chest,
+ Lying against my perfectly ordinary shirt-front and
+   dinner-jacket vest.
+      It is too much
+      Your touch
+      As such.
+      It and
+      Your hand,
+   Can you not understand?
+ Last night an ostrich feather from your fragrant hair
+      Unnoticed fell.
+      I guard it
+      Well.
+      Yestere&rsquo;en
+   From your tiara I have slid,
+      Unseen,
+      A single diamond,
+      And I keep it
+      Hid.
+ Last night you left inside the vestibule upon the sill
+      A quarter dollar,
+      And I have it
+      Still.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      But even those who know Ram Spudd as the poet of nature or of passion
+      still only know a part of his genius. Some of his highest flights rise
+      from an entirely different inspiration, and deal with the public affairs
+      of the nation. They are in every sense comparable to the best work of the
+      poets laureate of England dealing with similar themes. As soon as we had
+      seen Ram Spudd&rsquo;s work of this kind, we cried, that is we said to our
+      stenographer, &ldquo;What a pity that in this republic we have no
+      laureateship. Here is a man who might truly fill it.&rdquo; Of the poem of
+      this kind we should wish to quote, if our limits of space did not prevent
+      it, Mr. Spudd&rsquo;s exquisite
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+   ODE ON THE REDUCTION OF THE
+      UNITED STATES TARIFF
+
+ It is a matter of the very gravest concern to at least
+   nine-tenths of the business interests in the
+   United States,
+ Whether an all-round reduction of the present tariff
+   either on an ad valorem or a specific basis
+ Could be effected without a serious disturbance of the
+   general industrial situation of the country.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      But, no, we must not quote any more. No we really mustn&rsquo;t. Yet we
+      cannot refrain from inserting a reference to the latest of these laureate
+      poems of Ram Spudd. It appears to us to be a matchless specimen of its
+      class, and to settle once and for all the vexed question (though we
+      ourselves never vexed it) of whether true poetry can deal with national
+      occasions as they arise. It is entitled:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+   THE BANKER&rsquo;S EUTHANASIA: OR,
+   THE FEDERAL RESERVE CURRENCY
+      ACT OF 1914,
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      and, though we do not propose to reproduce it here, our distinct feeling
+      is that it will take its rank beside Mr. Spudd&rsquo;s Elegy on the
+      Interstate Commerce Act, and his Thoughts on the Proposal of a Uniform
+      Pure Food Law.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But our space does not allow us to present Ram Spudd in what is after all
+      his greatest aspect, that of a profound psychologist, a questioner of the
+      very meaning of life itself. His poem Death and Gloom, from which we must
+      refrain from quoting at large, contains such striking passages as the
+      following:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+   Why do I breathe, or do I?
+   What am I for, and whither do I go?
+   What skills it if I live, and if I die,
+      What boots it?
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Any one knowing Ram Spudd as we do will realize that these questions,
+      especially the last, are practically unanswerable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      V.&mdash;ARISTOCRATIC ANECDOTES OR LITTLE STORIES OF GREAT
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      PEOPLE
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      I have been much struck lately by the many excellent little anecdotes of
+      celebrated people that have appeared in recent memoirs and found their way
+      thence into the columns of the daily press. There is something about them
+      so deliciously pointed, their humour is so exquisite, that I think we
+      ought to have more of them. To this end I am trying to circulate on my own
+      account a few anecdotes which seem somehow to have been overlooked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here, for example, is an excellent thing which comes, if I remember
+      rightly, from the vivacious Memoir of Lady Ranelagh de Chit Chat.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      ANECDOTE OF THE DUKE OF STRATHYTHAN
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Lady Ranelagh writes:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ &ldquo;The Duke of Strathythan (I am writing of course of the
+ seventeenth Duke, not of his present Grace) was, as
+ everybody knows, famous for his hospitality.  It was not
+ perhaps generally known that the Duke was as witty as he
+ was hospitable. I recall a most amusing incident that
+ happened the last time but two that I was staying at
+ Strathythan Towers. As we sat down to lunch (we were a
+ very small and intimate party, there being only forty-three
+ of us) the Duke, who was at the head of the table, looked
+ up from the roast of beef that he was carving, and running
+ his eye about the guests was heard to murmur, &lsquo;I&rsquo;m afraid
+ there isn&rsquo;t enough beef to go round.&rsquo;
+
+ &ldquo;There was nothing to do, of course, but to roar with
+ laughter and the incident passed off with perfect savoir
+ faire.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Here is another story which I think has not had all the publicity that it
+      ought to. I found it in the book &ldquo;Shot, Shell and Shrapnell or Sixty
+      Years as a War Correspondent,&rdquo; recently written by Mr. Maxim Catling
+      whose exploits are familiar to all readers.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      ANECDOTE OF LORD KITCHENER
+    </h3>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ &ldquo;I was standing,&rdquo; writes Mr. Maxim, &ldquo;immediately between
+ Lord Kitchener and Lord Wolsley (with Lord Roberts a
+ little to the rear of us), and we were laughing and
+ chatting as we always did when the enemy were about to
+ open fire on us. Suddenly we found ourselves the object
+ of the most terrific hail of bullets. For a few moments
+ the air was black with them. As they went past I could
+ not refrain from exchanging a quiet smile with Lord
+ Kitchener, and another with Lord Wolsley. Indeed I have
+ never, except perhaps on twenty or thirty occasions,
+ found myself exposed to such an awful fusillade.
+
+ &ldquo;Kitchener, who habitually uses an eye-glass (among his
+ friends), watched the bullets go singing by, and then,
+ with that inimitable sangfroid which he reserves for his
+ intimates, said,
+
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;I&rsquo;m afraid if we stay here we may get hit.&rsquo;
+
+ &ldquo;We all moved away laughing heartily.
+
+ &ldquo;To add to the joke, Lord Roberts&rsquo; aide-de-camp was shot
+ in the pit of the stomach as we went.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      The next anecdote which I reproduce may be already too well known to my
+      readers. The career of Baron Snorch filled so large a page in the history
+      of European diplomacy that the publication of his recent memoirs was
+      awaited with profound interest by half the chancelleries of Europe. (Even
+      the other half were half excited over them.) The tangled skein in which
+      the politics of Europe are enveloped was perhaps never better illustrated
+      than in this fascinating volume. Even at the risk of repeating what is
+      already familiar, I offer the following for what it is worth&mdash;or even
+      less.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      NEW LIGHT ON THE LIFE OF CAVOUR
+    </h3>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ &ldquo;I have always regarded Count Cavour,&rdquo; writes the Baron,
+ &ldquo;as one of the most impenetrable diplomatists whom it
+ has been my lot to meet. I distinctly recall an incident
+ in connection with the famous Congress of Paris of 1856
+ which rises before my mind as vividly as if it were
+ yesterday. I was seated in one of the large salons of
+ the Elysee Palace (I often used to sit there) playing
+ vingt-et-un together with Count Cavour, the Duc de Magenta,
+ the Marquese di Casa Mombasa, the Conte di Piccolo Pochito
+ and others whose names I do not recollect. The stakes
+ had been, as usual, very high, and there was a large pile
+ of gold on the table. No one of us, however, paid any
+ attention to it, so absorbed were we all in the thought
+ of the momentous crises that were impending. At intervals
+ the Emperor Napoleon III passed in and out of the room,
+ and paused to say a word or two, with well-feigned
+ eloignement, to the players, who replied with such
+ degagement as they could.
+
+ &ldquo;While the play was at its height a servant appeared with
+ a telegram on a silver tray. He handed it to Count Cavour.
+ The Count paused in his play, opened the telegram, read
+ it and then with the most inconceivable nonchalance, put
+ it in his pocket. We stared at him in amazement for a
+ moment, and then the Duc, with the infinite ease of a
+ trained diplomat, quietly resumed his play.
+
+ &ldquo;Two days afterward, meeting Count Cavour at a reception
+ of the Empress Eugenie, I was able, unobserved, to whisper
+ in his ear, &lsquo;What was in the telegram?&rsquo; &lsquo;Nothing of any
+ consequence,&rsquo; he answered.  From that day to this I have
+ never known what it contained. My readers,&rdquo; concludes
+ Baron Snorch, &ldquo;may believe this or not as they like, but
+ I give them my word that it is true.
+
+ &ldquo;Probably they will not believe it.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      I cannot resist appending to these anecdotes a charming little story from
+      that well-known book, &ldquo;Sorrows of a Queen&rdquo;. The writer, Lady
+      de Weary, was an English gentlewoman who was for many years Mistress of
+      the Robes at one of the best known German courts. Her affection for her
+      royal mistress is evident on every page of her memoirs.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      TENDERNESS OF A QUEEN
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Lady de W. writes:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ &ldquo;My dear mistress, the late Queen of Saxe-Covia-Slitz-
+ in-Mein, was of a most tender and sympathetic disposition.
+ The goodness of her heart broke forth on all occasions.
+ I well remember how one day, on seeing a cabman in the
+ Poodel Platz kicking his horse in the stomach, she stopped
+ in her walk and said, &lsquo;Oh, poor horse! if he goes on
+ kicking it like that he&rsquo;ll hurt it.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      I may say in conclusion that I think if people would only take a little
+      more pains to resuscitate anecdotes of this sort, there might be a lot
+      more of them found.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      VI.&mdash;EDUCATION MADE AGREEABLE OR THE DIVERSIONS OF A
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      PROFESSOR
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      A few days ago during a pause in one of my college lectures (my class
+      being asleep) I sat reading Draper&rsquo;s &ldquo;Intellectual Development
+      of Europe&rdquo;. Quite suddenly I came upon the following sentence:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eratosthenes cast everything he wished to teach into poetry. By
+      this means he made it attractive, and he was able to spread his system all
+      over Asia Minor.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This came to me with a shock of an intellectual discovery. I saw at once
+      how I could spread my system, or parts of it, all over the United States
+      and Canada. To make education attractive! There it is! To call in the help
+      of poetry, of music, of grand opera, if need be, to aid in the teaching of
+      the dry subjects of the college class room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I set to work at once on the project and already I have enough results to
+      revolutionize education.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the first place I have compounded a blend of modern poetry and
+      mathematics, which retains all the romance of the latter and loses none of
+      the dry accuracy of the former. Here is an example:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+      The poem of
+   LORD ULLIN&rsquo;S DAUGHTER
+      expressed as
+   A PROBLEM IN TRIGONOMETRY
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      INTRODUCTION. A party of three persons, a Scotch nobleman, a young lady
+      and an elderly boatman stand on the banks of a river (R), which, for
+      private reasons, they desire to cross. Their only means of transport is a
+      boat, of which the boatman, if squared, is able to row at a rate
+      proportional to the square of the distance. The boat, however, has a leak
+      (S), through which a quantity of water passes sufficient to sink it after
+      traversing an indeterminate distance (D). Given the square of the boatman
+      and the mean situation of all concerned, to find whether the boat will
+      pass the river safely or sink.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+   A chieftain to the Highlands bound
+      Cried &ldquo;Boatman do not tarry!
+   And I&rsquo;ll give you a silver pound
+      To row me o&rsquo;er the ferry.&rdquo;
+    Before them raged the angry tide
+   X**2 + Y from side to side.
+
+   Outspake the hardy Highland wight,
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll go, my chief, I&rsquo;m ready;
+   It is not for your silver bright,
+      But for your winsome lady.&rdquo;
+    And yet he seemed to manifest
+      A certain hesitation;
+   His head was sunk upon his breast
+      In puzzled calculation.
+
+   &ldquo;Suppose the river X + Y
+   And call the distance Q
+   Then dare we thus the gods defy
+   I think we dare, don&rsquo;t you?
+      Our floating power expressed in words
+      Is X + 47/3&rdquo;
+
+   &ldquo;Oh, haste thee, haste,&rdquo; the lady cries,
+   &ldquo;Though tempests round us gather
+   I&rsquo;ll face the raging of the skies
+   But please cut out the Algebra.&rdquo;
+
+   The boat has left the stormy shore (S)
+   A stormy C before her
+   C1 C2 C3 C4
+   The tempest gathers o&rsquo;er her
+      The thunder rolls, the lightning smites &lsquo;em
+      And the rain falls ad infinitum.
+
+   In vain the aged boatman strains,
+   His heaving sides reveal his pains;
+   The angry water gains apace
+   Both of his sides and half his base,
+      Till, as he sits, he seems to lose
+      The square of his hypotenuse.
+
+   The boat advanced to X + 2,
+   Lord Ullin reached the fixed point Q,&mdash;
+      Then the boat sank from human eye,
+   OY, OY**2, OGY.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      But this is only a sample of what can be done. I have realised that all
+      our technical books are written and presented in too dry a fashion. They
+      don&rsquo;t make the most of themselves. Very often the situation implied
+      is intensely sensational, and if set out after the fashion of an
+      up-to-date newspaper, would be wonderfully effective.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here, for example, you have Euclid writing in a perfectly prosaic way all
+      in small type such an item as the following:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A perpendicular is let fall on a line BC so as to bisect it at the
+      point C etc., etc.,&rdquo; just as if it were the most ordinary occurrence
+      in the world. Every newspaper man will see at once that it ought to be set
+      up thus:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+      AWFUL CATASTROPHE
+   PERPENDICULAR FALLS HEADLONG
+      ON A GIVEN POINT
+
+   The Line at C said to be completely bisected
+   President of the Line makes Statement
+      etc., etc., etc.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      But I am not contenting myself with merely describing my system. I am
+      putting it to the test. I am preparing a new and very special edition of
+      my friend Professor Daniel Murray&rsquo;s work on the Calculus. This is a
+      book little known to the general public. I suppose one may say without
+      exaggeration that outside of the class room it is hardly read at all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Yet I venture to say that when my new edition is out it will be found on
+      the tables of every cultivated home, and will be among the best sellers of
+      the year. All that is needed is to give to this really monumental book the
+      same chance that is given to every other work of fiction in the modern
+      market.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      First of all I wrap it in what is called technically a jacket. This is of
+      white enamelled paper, and on it is a picture of a girl, a very pretty
+      girl, in a summer dress and sunbonnet sitting swinging on a bough of a
+      cherry tree. Across the cover in big black letters are the words:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+   THE CALCULUS
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      and beneath them the legend &ldquo;the most daring book of the day.&rdquo;
+      This, you will observe, is perfectly true. The reviewers of the
+      mathematical journals when this book first came out agreed that &ldquo;Professor
+      Murray&rsquo;s views on the Calculus were the most daring yet published.&rdquo;
+      They said, too, that they hoped that the professor&rsquo;s unsound
+      theories of infinitesimal rectitude would not remain unchallenged. Yet the
+      public somehow missed it all, and one of the most profitable scandals in
+      the publishing trade was missed for the lack of a little business
+      enterprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      My new edition will give this book its first real chance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I admit that the inside has to be altered,&mdash;but not very much. The
+      real basis of interest is there. The theories in the book are just as
+      interesting as those raised in the modern novel. All that is needed is to
+      adopt the device, familiar in novels, of clothing the theories in personal
+      form and putting the propositions advanced into the mouths of the
+      characters, instead of leaving them as unsupported statements of the
+      author. Take for example Dr. Murray&rsquo;s beginning. It is very good,&mdash;any
+      one will admit it,&mdash;fascinatingly clever, but it lacks heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It runs:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ If two magnitudes, one of which is determined by a straight
+ line and the other by a parabola approach one another,
+ the rectangle included by the revolution of each will be
+ equal to the sum of a series of indeterminate rectangles.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Now this is,&mdash;quite frankly,&mdash;dull. The situation is there; the
+      idea is good, and, whether one agrees or not, is at least as brilliantly
+      original as even the best of our recent novels. But I find it necessary to
+      alter the presentation of the plot a little bit. As I re-edit it the
+      opening of the Calculus runs thus:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ On a bright morning in June along a path gay with the
+ opening efflorescence of the hibiscus and entangled here
+ and there with the wild blossoms of the convolvulus,&mdash;two
+ magnitudes might have been seen approaching one another.
+ The one magnitude who held a tennis-racket in his hand,
+ carried himself with a beautiful erectness and moved
+ with a firmness such as would have led Professor Murray
+ to exclaim in despair&mdash;Let it be granted that A. B.
+ (for such was our hero&rsquo;s name) is a straight line. The
+ other magnitude, which drew near with a step at once
+ elusive and fascinating, revealed as she walked a figure
+ so exquisite in its every curve as to call from her
+ geometrical acquaintances the ecstatic exclamation, &ldquo;Let
+ it be granted that M is a parabola.&rdquo;
+
+ The beautiful magnitude of whom we have last spoken,
+ bore on her arm as she walked, a tiny dog over which
+ her fair head was bent in endearing caresses; indeed
+ such was her attention to the dog Vi (his full name was
+ Velocity but he was called Vi for short) that her wayward
+ footsteps carried her not in a straight line but in a
+ direction so constantly changing as to lead that acute
+ observer, Professor Murray, to the conclusion that her
+ path could only be described by the amount of attraction
+ ascribable to Vi.
+
+ Guided thus along their respective paths, the two
+ magnitudes presently met with such suddenness that they
+ almost intersected.
+
+ &ldquo;I beg your pardon,&rdquo; said the first magnitude very
+ rigidly.
+
+ &ldquo;You ought to indeed,&rdquo; said the second rather sulkily,
+ &ldquo;you&rsquo;ve knocked Vi right out of my arms.&rdquo;
+
+ She looked round despairingly for the little dog which
+ seemed to have disappeared in the long grass.
+
+ &ldquo;Won&rsquo;t you please pick him up?&rdquo; she pleaded.
+
+ &ldquo;Not exactly in my line, you know,&rdquo; answered the other
+ magnitude, &ldquo;but I tell you what I&rsquo;ll do, if you&rsquo;ll stand
+ still, perfectly still where you are, and let me take
+ hold of your hand, I&rsquo;ll describe a circle!&rdquo;
+
+ &ldquo;Oh, aren&rsquo;t you clever!&rdquo; cried the girl, clapping her
+ hands. &ldquo;What a lovely idea! You describe a circle all
+ around me, and then we&rsquo;ll look at every weeny bit of it
+ and we&rsquo;ll be sure to find Vi&mdash;&rdquo;
+
+ She reached out her hand to the other magnitude who
+ clasped it with an assumed intensity sufficient to retain
+ it.
+
+ At this moment a third magnitude broke on the scene:&mdash;a
+ huge oblong, angular figure, very difficult to describe,
+ came revolving towards them.
+
+ &ldquo;M,&rdquo; it shouted, &ldquo;Emily, what are you doing?&rdquo;
+
+ &ldquo;My goodness,&rdquo; said the second magnitude in alarm, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s
+ MAMA.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      I may say that the second instalment of Dr. Murray&rsquo;s fascinating
+      romance will appear in the next number of the &ldquo;Illuminated Bookworm&rdquo;,
+      the great adult-juvenile vehicle of the newer thought in which these
+      theories of education are expounded further.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      VII.&mdash;AN EVERY-DAY EXPERIENCE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      He came across to me in the semi-silence room of the club.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had a rather queer hand at bridge last night,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Had you?&rdquo; I answered, and picked up a newspaper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. It would have interested you, I think,&rdquo; he went on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would it?&rdquo; I said, and moved to another chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was like this,&rdquo; he continued, following me: &ldquo;I held
+      the king of hearts&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Half a minute,&rdquo; I said; &ldquo;I want to go and see what time
+      it is.&rdquo; I went out and looked at the clock in the hall. I came back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the queen and the ten&mdash;&rdquo; he was saying.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Excuse me just a second; I want to ring for a messenger.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I did so. The waiter came and went.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the nine and two small ones,&rdquo; he went on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Two small what?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Two small hearts,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t remember
+      which. Anyway, I remember very well indeed that I had the king and the
+      queen and the jack, the nine, and two little ones.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Half a second,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;I want to mail a letter.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When I came back to him, he was still murmuring:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My partner held the ace of clubs and the queen. The jack was out,
+      but I didn&rsquo;t know where the king was&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You didn&rsquo;t?&rdquo; I said in contempt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he repeated in surprise, and went on murmuring:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Diamonds had gone round once, and spades twice, and so I suspected
+      that my partner was leading from weakness&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can well believe it,&rdquo; I said&mdash;&ldquo;sheer weakness.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;on the sixth round the lead came to
+      me. Now, what should I have done? Finessed for the ace, or led straight
+      into my opponent&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You want my advice,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;and you shall have it,
+      openly and fairly. In such a case as you describe, where a man has led out
+      at me repeatedly and with provocation, as I gather from what you say,
+      though I myself do not play bridge, I should lead my whole hand at him. I
+      repeat, I do not play bridge. But in the circumstances, I should think it
+      the only thing to do.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      VIII&mdash;TRUTHFUL ORATORY
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      or What Our Speakers Ought to Say
+    </h3>
+    <h3>
+      I
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      TRUTHFUL SPEECH GIVING THE REAL THOUGHTS OF A DISTINGUISHED GUEST AT THE
+      FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY BANQUET OF A SOCIETY
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Chairman and gentlemen: If there is one thing I abominate more than
+      another, it is turning out on a cold night like this to eat a huge dinner
+      of twelve courses and know that I have to make a speech on top of it.
+      Gentlemen, I just feel stuffed. That&rsquo;s the plain truth of it. By the
+      time we had finished that fish, I could have gone home satisfied. Honestly
+      I could. That&rsquo;s as much as I usually eat. And by the time I had
+      finished the rest of the food, I felt simply waterlogged, and I do still.
+      More than that. The knowledge that I had to make a speech congratulating
+      this society of yours on its fiftieth anniversary haunted and racked me
+      all through the meal. I am not, in plain truth, the ready and brilliant
+      speaker you take me for. That is a pure myth. If you could see the
+      desperate home scene that goes on in my family when I am working up a
+      speech, your minds would be at rest on that point.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I&rsquo;ll go further and be very frank with you. How this society has
+      lived for fifty years, I don&rsquo;t know. If all your dinners are like
+      this, Heaven help you. I&rsquo;ve only the vaguest idea of what this
+      society is, anyway, and what it does. I tried to get a constitution this
+      afternoon but failed. I am sure from some of the faces that I recognise
+      around this table that there must be good business reasons of some sort
+      for belonging to this society. There&rsquo;s money in it,&mdash;mark my
+      words,&mdash;for some of you or you wouldn&rsquo;t be here. Of course I
+      quite understand that the President and the officials seated here beside
+      me come merely for the self-importance of it. That, gentlemen, is about
+      their size. I realized that from their talk during the banquet. I don&rsquo;t
+      want to speak bitterly, but the truth is they are SMALL men and it
+      flatters them to sit here with two or three blue ribbons pinned on their
+      coats. But as for me, I&rsquo;m done with it. It will be fifty years,
+      please heaven, before this event comes round again. I hope, I earnestly
+      hope, that I shall be safely under the ground.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      II
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      THE SPEECH THAT OUGHT TO BE MADE BY A STATE GOVERNOR AFTER VISITING THE
+      FALL EXPOSITION OF AN AGRICULTURAL SOCIETY
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Well, gentlemen, this Annual Fall Fair of the Skedink County Agricultural
+      Association has come round again. I don&rsquo;t mind telling you straight
+      out that of all the disagreeable jobs that fall to me as Governor of this
+      State, my visit to your Fall Fair is about the toughest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I want to tell you, gentlemen, right here and now, that I don&rsquo;t know
+      anything about agriculture and I don&rsquo;t want to. My parents were rich
+      enough to bring me up in the city in a rational way. I didn&rsquo;t have
+      to do chores in order to go to the high school as some of those present
+      have boasted that they did. My only wonder is that they ever got there at
+      all. They show no traces of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This afternoon, gentlemen, you took me all round your live-stock exhibit.
+      I walked past, and through, nearly a quarter of a mile of hogs. What was
+      it that they were called&mdash;Tamworths&mdash;Berkshires? I don&rsquo;t
+      remember. But all I can say, gentlemen, is,&mdash;phew! Just that. Some of
+      you will understand readily enough. That word sums up my whole idea of
+      your agricultural show and I&rsquo;m done with it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No, let me correct myself. There was just one feature of your agricultural
+      exposition that met my warm approval. You were good enough to take me
+      through the section of your exposition called your Midway Pleasance. Let
+      me tell you, sirs, that there was more real merit in that than all the
+      rest of the show put together. You apologized, if I remember rightly, for
+      taking me into the large tent of the Syrian Dancing Girls. Oh, believe me,
+      gentlemen, you needn&rsquo;t have. Syria is a country which commands my
+      profoundest admiration. Some day I mean to spend a vacation there. And,
+      believe me, gentlemen, when I do go,&mdash;and I say this with all the
+      emphasis of which I am capable,&mdash;I should not wish to be accompanied
+      by such a set of flatheads as the officials of your Agricultural Society.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now, gentlemen, as I have just received a fake telegram, by
+      arrangement, calling me back to the capital of the State, I must leave
+      this banquet at once. One word in conclusion: if I had known as fully as I
+      do now how it feels to drink half a bucket of sweet cider, I should
+      certainly never have come.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      III
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      TRUTHFUL SPEECH OF A DISTRICT POLITICIAN TO A LADIES&rsquo; SUFFRAGE
+      SOCIETY
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ladies: My own earnest, heartfelt conviction is that you are a pack of
+      cats. I use the word &ldquo;cats&rdquo; advisedly, and I mean every letter
+      of it. I want to go on record before this gathering as being strongly and
+      unalterably opposed to Woman Suffrage until you get it. After that I
+      favour it. My reasons for opposing the suffrage are of a kind that you
+      couldn&rsquo;t understand. But all men,&mdash;except the few that I see at
+      this meeting,&mdash;understand them by instinct.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As you may, however, succeed as a result of the fuss that you are making,&mdash;in
+      getting votes, I have thought it best to come. Also,&mdash;I am free to
+      confess,&mdash;I wanted to see what you looked like.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On this last head I am disappointed. Personally I like women a good deal
+      fatter than most of you are, and better looking. As I look around this
+      gathering I see one or two of you that are not so bad, but on the whole
+      not many. But my own strong personal predilection is and remains in favour
+      of a woman who can cook, mend clothes, talk when I want her to, and give
+      me the kind of admiration to which I am accustomed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Let me, however, say in conclusion that I am altogether in sympathy with
+      your movement to this extent. If you ever DO get votes,&mdash;and the
+      indications are that you will (blast you),&mdash;I want your votes, and I
+      want all of them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      IX.&mdash;OUR LITERARY BUREAU
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      [Footnote: This literary bureau was started by the author in the New York
+      Century. It leaped into such immediate prominence that it had to be closed
+      at once.]
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ NOVELS READ TO ORDER
+    FIRST AID FOR THE
+       BUSY MILLIONAIRE
+
+ NO BRAINS NEEDED
+  NO TASTE REQUIRED
+   NOTHING BUT MONEY
+    SEND IT TO US
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      We have lately been struck,&mdash;of course not dangerously,&mdash;by a
+      new idea. A recent number of a well-known magazine contains an account of
+      an American multimillionaire who, on account of the pressure of his brain
+      power and the rush of his business, found it impossible to read the
+      fiction of the day for himself. He therefore caused his secretaries to
+      look through any new and likely novel and make a rapid report on its
+      contents, indicating for his personal perusal the specially interesting
+      parts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Realizing the possibilities coiled up in this plan, we have opened a
+      special agency or bureau for doing work of this sort. Any over-busy
+      multimillionaire, or superman, who becomes our client may send us novels,
+      essays, or books of any kind, and will receive a report explaining the
+      plot and pointing out such parts as he may with propriety read. If he can
+      once find time to send us a postcard, or a postal cablegram, night or day,
+      we undertake to assume all the further effort of reading. Our terms for
+      ordinary fiction are one dollar per chapter; for works of travel, 10 cents
+      per mile; and for political or other essays, two cents per page, or ten
+      dollars per idea, and for theological and controversial work, seven
+      dollars and fifty cents per cubic yard extracted. Our clients are assured
+      of prompt and immediate attention.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Through the kindness of the Editor of the Century we are enabled to insert
+      here a sample of our work. It was done to the order of a gentleman of
+      means engaged in silver mining in Colorado, who wrote us that he was
+      anxious to get &ldquo;a holt&rdquo; on modern fiction, but that he had no
+      time actually to read it. On our assuring him that this was now
+      unnecessary, he caused to be sent to us the monthly parts of a serial
+      story, on which we duly reported as follows:
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      JANUARY INSTALMENT
+    </h3>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+   Theodolite Gulch,
+    The Dip, Canon County,
+     Colorado.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Dear Sir:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We beg to inform you that the scene of the opening chapter of the Fortunes
+      of Barbara Plynlimmon is laid in Wales. The scene is laid, however, very
+      carelessly and hurriedly and we expect that it will shortly be removed. We
+      cannot, therefore, recommend it to your perusal. As there is a very fine
+      passage describing the Cambrian Hills by moonlight, we enclose herewith a
+      condensed table showing the mean altitude of the moon for the month of
+      December in the latitude of Wales. The character of Miss Plynlimmon we
+      find to be developed in conversation with her grandmother, which we think
+      you had better not read. Nor are we prepared to endorse your reading the
+      speeches of the Welsh peasantry which we find in this chapter, but we
+      forward herewith in place of them a short glossary of Welsh synonyms which
+      may aid you in this connection.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      FEBRUARY INSTALMENT
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Dear Sir:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We regret to state that we find nothing in the second chapter of the
+      Fortunes of Barbara Plynlimmon which need be reported to you at length. We
+      think it well, however, to apprise you of the arrival of a young Oxford
+      student in the neighbourhood of Miss Plynlimmon&rsquo;s cottage, who is
+      apparently a young man of means and refinement. We enclose a list of the
+      principal Oxford Colleges.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We may state that from the conversation and manner of this young gentleman
+      there is no ground for any apprehension on your part. But if need arises
+      we will report by cable to you instantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The young gentleman in question meets Miss Plynlimmon at sunrise on the
+      slopes of Snowdon. As the description of the meeting is very fine we send
+      you a recent photograph of the sun.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      MARCH INSTALMENT
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Dear Sir:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Our surmise was right. The scene of the story that we are digesting for
+      you is changed. Miss Plynlimmon has gone to London. You will be gratified
+      to learn that she has fallen heir to a fortune of 100,000 pounds, which we
+      are happy to compute for you at $486,666 and 66 cents less exchange. On
+      Miss Plynlimmon&rsquo;s arrival at Charing Cross Station, she is
+      overwhelmed with that strange feeling of isolation felt in the surging
+      crowds of a modern city. We therefore enclose a timetable showing the
+      arrival and departure of all trains at Charing Cross.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      APRIL INSTALMENT
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Dear Sir:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We beg to bring to your notice the fact that Miss Barbara Plynlimmon has
+      by an arrangement made through her trustees become the inmate, on a
+      pecuniary footing, in the household of a family of title. We are happy to
+      inform you that her first appearance at dinner in evening dress was most
+      gratifying: we can safely recommend you to read in this connection lines 4
+      and 5 and the first half of line 6 on page 1OO of the book as enclosed. We
+      regret to say that the Marquis of Slush and his eldest son Viscount
+      Fitzbuse (courtesy title) are both addicted to drink. They have been
+      drinking throughout the chapter. We are pleased to state that apparently
+      the second son, Lord Radnor of Slush, who is away from home is not so
+      addicted. We send you under separate cover a bottle of Radnor water.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      MAY INSTALMENT
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Dear Sir:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We regret to state that the affairs of Miss Barbara Plynlimmon are in a
+      very unsatisfactory position. We enclose three pages of the novel with the
+      urgent request that you will read them at once. The old Marquis of Slush
+      has made approaches towards Miss Plynlimmon of such a scandalous nature
+      that we think it best to ask you to read them in full. You will note also
+      that young Viscount Slush who is tipsy through whole of pages 121-125,
+      128-133, and part of page 140, has designs upon her fortune. We are sorry
+      to see also that the Marchioness of Buse under the guise of friendship has
+      insured Miss Plynlimmon&rsquo;s life and means to do away with her. The
+      sister of the Marchioness, the Lady Dowager, also wishes to do away with
+      her. The second housemaid who is tempted by her jewellery is also planning
+      to do away with her. We feel that if this goes on she will be done away
+      with.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      JUNE INSTALMENT
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Dear Sir:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We beg to advise you that Viscount Fitz-buse, inflamed by the beauty and
+      innocence of Miss Plynlimmon, has gone so far as to lay his finger on her
+      (read page 170, lines 6-7). She resisted his approaches. At the height of
+      the struggle a young man, attired in the costume of a Welsh tourist, but
+      wearing the stamp of an Oxford student, and yet carrying himself with the
+      unmistakable hauteur (we knew it at once) of an aristocrat, burst, or
+      bust, into the room. With one blow he felled Fitz-buse to the floor; with
+      another he clasped the girl to his heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Barbara!&rdquo; he exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Radnor,&rdquo; she murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      You will be pleased to learn that this is the second son of the Marquis,
+      Viscount Radnor, just returned from a reading tour in Wales.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      P. S. We do not know what he read, so we enclose a file of Welsh
+      newspapers to date.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      JULY INSTALMENT
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      We regret to inform you that the Marquis of Slush has disinherited his
+      son. We grieve to state that Viscount Radnor has sworn that he will never
+      ask for Miss Plynlimmon&rsquo;s hand till he has a fortune equal to her
+      own. Meantime, we are sorry to say, he proposes to work.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      AUGUST INSTALMENT
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      The Viscount is seeking employment.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      SEPTEMBER INSTALMENT
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      The Viscount is looking for work.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      OCTOBER INSTALMENT
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      The Viscount is hunting for a job.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      NOVEMBER INSTALMENT
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      We are most happy to inform you that Miss Plynlimmon has saved the
+      situation. Determined to be worthy of the generous love of Viscount
+      Radnor, she has arranged to convey her entire fortune to the old family
+      lawyer who acts as her trustee. She will thus become as poor as the
+      Viscount and they can marry. The scene with the old lawyer who breaks into
+      tears on receiving the fortune, swearing to hold and cherish it as his own
+      is very touching. Meantime, as the Viscount is hunting for a job, we
+      enclose a list of advertisements under the heading Help Wanted&mdash;Males.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      DECEMBER INSTALMENT
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      You will be very gratified to learn that the fortunes of Miss Barbara
+      Plynlimmon have come to a most pleasing termination. Her marriage with the
+      Viscount Radnor was celebrated very quietly on page 231. (We enclose a
+      list of the principal churches in London.) No one was present except the
+      old family lawyer, who was moved to tears at the sight of the bright,
+      trusting bride, and the clergyman who wept at the sight of the cheque
+      given him by the Viscount. After the ceremony the old trustee took Lord
+      and Lady Radnor to a small wedding breakfast at an hotel (we enclose a
+      list). During the breakfast a sudden faintness (for which we had been
+      watching for ten pages) overcame him. He sank back in his chair, gasping.
+      Lord and Lady Radnor rushed to him and sought in vain to tighten his
+      necktie. He expired under their care, having just time to indicate in his
+      pocket a will leaving them his entire wealth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This had hardly happened when a messenger brought news to the Viscount
+      that his brother, Lord Fitz-buse had been killed in the hunting field, and
+      that he (meaning him, himself) had now succeeded to the title. Lord and
+      Lady Fitz-buse had hardly time to reach the town house of the family when
+      they learned that owing to the sudden death of the old Marquis (also, we
+      believe, in the hunting field), they had become the Marquis and the
+      Marchioness of Slush.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Marquis and the Marchioness of Slush are still living in their
+      ancestral home in London. Their lives are an example to all their tenantry
+      in Piccadilly, the Strand and elsewhere.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      CONCLUDING NOTE
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Dear Mr. Gulch:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We beg to acknowledge with many thanks your cheque for one thousand
+      dollars.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We regret to learn that you have not been able to find time to read our
+      digest of the serial story placed with us at your order. But we note with
+      pleasure that you propose to have the &ldquo;essential points&rdquo; of
+      our digest &ldquo;boiled down&rdquo; by one of the business experts of
+      your office.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Awaiting your commands,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We remain, etc., etc.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      X.&mdash;SPEEDING UP BUSINESS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      We were sitting at our editorial desk in our inner room, quietly writing
+      up our week&rsquo;s poetry, when a stranger looked in upon us.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He came in with a burst,&mdash;like the entry of the hero of western drama
+      coming in out of a snowstorm. His manner was all excitement. &ldquo;Sit
+      down,&rdquo; we said, in our grave, courteous way. &ldquo;Sit down!&rdquo;
+      he exclaimed, &ldquo;certainly not! Are you aware of the amount of time
+      and energy that are being wasted in American business by the practice of
+      perpetually sitting down and standing up again? Do you realize that every
+      time you sit down and stand up you make a dead lift of&rdquo;&mdash;he
+      looked at us,&mdash;&ldquo;two hundred and fifty pounds? Did you ever
+      reflect that every time you sit down you have to get up again?&rdquo;
+      &ldquo;Never,&rdquo; we said quietly, &ldquo;we never thought of it.&rdquo;
+      &ldquo;You didn&rsquo;t!&rdquo; he sneered. &ldquo;No, you&rsquo;d rather
+      go on lifting 250 pounds through two feet,&mdash;an average of 500
+      foot-pounds, practically 62 kilowatts of wasted power. Do you know that by
+      merely hitching a pulley to the back of your neck you could generate
+      enough power to light your whole office?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We hung our heads. Simple as the thing was, we had never thought of it.
+      &ldquo;Very good,&rdquo; said the Stranger. &ldquo;Now, all American
+      business men are like you. They don&rsquo;t think,&mdash;do you understand
+      me? They don&rsquo;t think.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We realized the truth of it at once. We had never thought. Perhaps we didn&rsquo;t
+      even know how.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, I tell you,&rdquo; continued our visitor, speaking rapidly and
+      with a light of wild enthusiasm in his face, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m out for a
+      new campaign,&mdash;efficiency in business&mdash;speeding things up&mdash;better
+      organization.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But surely,&rdquo; we said, musingly, &ldquo;we have seen something
+      about this lately in the papers?&rdquo; &ldquo;Seen it, sir,&rdquo; he
+      exclaimed, &ldquo;I should say so. It&rsquo;s everywhere. It&rsquo;s a new
+      movement. It&rsquo;s in the air. Has it never struck you how a thing like
+      this can be seen in the air?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here again we were at fault. In all our lives we had never seen anything
+      in the air. We had never even looked there. &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; continued
+      the Stranger, &ldquo;I want your paper to help. I want you to join in. I
+      want you to give publicity.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Assuredly,&rdquo; we said, with our old-fashioned politeness.
+      &ldquo;Anything which concerns the welfare, the progress, if one may so
+      phrase it&mdash;&rdquo; &ldquo;Stop,&rdquo; said the visitor. &ldquo;You
+      talk too much. You&rsquo;re prosy. Don&rsquo;t talk. Listen to me. Try and
+      fix your mind on what I am about to say.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We fixed it. The Stranger&rsquo;s manner became somewhat calmer. &ldquo;I
+      am heading,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;the new American efficiency movement. I
+      have sent our circulars to fifty thousand representative firms, explaining
+      my methods. I am receiving ten thousand answers a day&rdquo;&mdash;here he
+      dragged a bundle of letters out of his pocket&mdash;&ldquo;from Maine,
+      from New Hampshire, from Vermont,&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Massachusetts, Rhode
+      Island, Connecticut,&rdquo; we murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;from every State in the Union&mdash;from
+      the Philippines, from Porto Rico, and last week I had one from Canada.&rdquo;
+      &ldquo;Marvellous,&rdquo; we said; &ldquo;and may one ask what your new
+      methods are?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a proper question.
+      It&rsquo;s a typical business question, fair, plain, clean, and even
+      admitting of an answer. The great art of answering questions,&rdquo; he
+      continued, &ldquo;is to answer at once without loss of time, friction or
+      delay in moving from place to place. I&rsquo;ll answer it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do,&rdquo; we said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will,&rdquo; said the Stranger. &ldquo;My method is first: to
+      stimulate business to the highest point by infusing into it everywhere the
+      spirit of generous rivalry, of wholesome competition; by inviting each and
+      every worker to outdo each and every other.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And can they do it?&rdquo; we asked, puzzled and yet fascinated.
+      &ldquo;Can they all do it?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They do, and they can,&rdquo; said the Stranger. &ldquo;The proof
+      of it is that they are doing it. Listen. Here is an answer to my circular
+      No. 6, Efficiency and Recompense, that came in this morning. It is from a
+      steel firm. Listen.&rdquo; The Stranger picked out a letter and read it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dear Sir:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Our firm is a Steel Corporation. We roll rails. As soon as we read your
+      circular on the Stimulus of Competition we saw that there were big things
+      in it. At once we sent one of our chief managers to the rolling, mill. He
+      carried a paper bag in his hand. &ldquo;Now boys,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;every
+      man who rolls a rail gets a gum-drop.&rdquo; The effect was magical. The
+      good fellows felt a new stimulus. They now roll out rails like dough. Work
+      is a joy to them. Every Saturday night the man who has rolled most gets a
+      blue ribbon; the man who has rolled the next most, a green ribbon; the
+      next most a yellow ribbon, and so on through the spectroscope. The man who
+      rolls least gets only a red ribbon. It is a real pleasure to see the brave
+      fellows clamouring for their ribbons. Our output, after defraying the
+      entire cost of the ribbons and the gum-drops, has increased forty per
+      cent. We intend to carry the scheme further by allowing all the men who
+      get a hundred blue ribbons first, to exchange them for the Grand
+      Efficiency Prize of the firm,&mdash;a pink ribbon. This the winner will be
+      entitled to wear whenever and wherever he sees fit to wear it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The stranger paused for breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marvellous,&rdquo; we said. &ldquo;There is no doubt the stimulus
+      of keen competition&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shut up,&rdquo; he said impatiently. &ldquo;Let me explain it
+      further. Competition is only part of it. An item just as big that makes
+      for efficiency is to take account of the little things. It&rsquo;s the
+      little things that are never thought of.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here was another wonder! We realized that we had never thought of them.
+      &ldquo;Take an example,&rdquo; the Stranger continued. &ldquo;I went into
+      a hotel the other day. What did I see? Bell-boys being summoned upstairs
+      every minute, and flying up in the elevators. Yes,&mdash;and every time
+      they went up they had to come down again. I went up to the manager. I
+      said, &lsquo;I can understand that when your guests ring for the bell-boys
+      they have to go up. But why should they come down? Why not have them go up
+      and never come down?&rsquo; He caught the idea at once. That hotel is
+      transformed. I have a letter from the manager stating that they find it
+      fifty per cent. cheaper to hire new bell-boys instead of waiting for the
+      old ones to come down.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These results,&rdquo; we said, &ldquo;are certainly marvellous.
+      &ldquo;You are most assuredly to be congratulated on&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You talk too much,&rdquo; said the Stranger. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t do
+      it. Learn to listen. If a young man comes to me for advice in business,&mdash;and
+      they do in hundreds, lots of them,&mdash;almost in tears over their
+      inefficiency,&mdash;I&rsquo;d say, &lsquo;Young man, never talk, listen;
+      answer, but don&rsquo;t speak.&rsquo; But even all this is only part of
+      the method. Another side of it is technique.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Technique?&rdquo; we said, pleased but puzzled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, the proper use of machine devices. Take the building trade. I&rsquo;ve
+      revolutionized it. Till now all the bricks even for a high building were
+      carried up to the mason in hods. Madness! Think of the waste of it. By my
+      method instead of carrying the bricks to the mason we take the mason to
+      the brick,&mdash;lower him on a wire rope, give him a brick, and up he
+      goes again. As soon as he wants another brick he calls down, &lsquo;I want
+      a brick,&rsquo; and down he comes like lightning.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This,&rdquo; we said, &ldquo;is little short of&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cut it out. Even that is not all. Another thing bigger than any is
+      organization. Half the business in this country is not organized. As soon
+      as I sent out my circular, No. 4, HAVE YOU ORGANIZED YOUR BUSINESS! I got
+      answers in thousands! Heart-broken, many of them. They had never thought
+      of it! Here, for example, is a letter written by a plain man, a gardener,
+      just an ordinary man, a plain man&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; we said, &ldquo;quite so.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, here is what he writes:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dear Sir:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As soon as I got your circular I read it all through from end to end, and
+      I saw that all my failure in the past had come from my not being
+      organized. I sat and thought a long while and I decided that I would
+      organize myself. I went right in to the house and I said to my wife,
+      &ldquo;Jane, I&rsquo;m going to organize myself.&rdquo; She said, &ldquo;Oh,
+      John!&rdquo;&mdash;and not another word, but you should have seen the look
+      on her face. So the next morning I got up early and began to organize
+      myself. It was hard at first but I stuck to it. There were times when I
+      felt as if I couldn&rsquo;t do it. It seemed too hard. But bit by bit I
+      did it and now, thank God, I am organized. I wish all men like me could
+      know the pleasure I feel in being organized.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Touching, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo; said the Stranger. &ldquo;But I
+      get lots of letters like that. Here&rsquo;s another, also from a man, a
+      plain man, working on his own farm. Hear what he says:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dear Sir:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As soon as I saw your circular on HOW TO SPEED UP THE EMPLOYEE I felt that
+      it was a big thing. I don&rsquo;t have any hired help here to work with
+      me, but only father. He cuts the wood and does odd chores about the place.
+      So I realized that the best I could do was to try to speed up father. I
+      started in to speed him up last Tuesday, and I wish you could see him.
+      Before this he couldn&rsquo;t split a cord of wood without cutting a slice
+      off his boots. Now he does it in half the time.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But there,&rdquo; the Stranger said, getting impatient even with
+      his own reading, &ldquo;I needn&rsquo;t read it all. It is the same thing
+      all along the line. I&rsquo;ve got the Method introduced into the
+      Department Stores. Before this every customer who came in wasted time
+      trying to find the counters. Now we install a patent springboard, with a
+      mechanism like a catapault. As soon as a customer comes in an attendant
+      puts him on the board, blindfolds him, and says, &lsquo;Where do you want
+      to go?&rsquo; &lsquo;Glove counter.&rsquo; Oh, all right.&rsquo; He&rsquo;s
+      fired at it through the air. No time lost. Same with the railways. They&rsquo;re
+      installing the Method, too. Every engineer who breaks the record from New
+      York to Buffalo gets a glass of milk. When he gets a hundred glasses he
+      can exchange them for a glass of beer. So with the doctors. On the new
+      method, instead of giving a patient one pill a day for fourteen days they
+      give him fourteen pills in one day. Doctors, lawyers, everybody,&mdash;in
+      time, sir,&rdquo; said the Stranger, in tones of rising excitement,
+      &ldquo;you&rsquo;ll see even the plumbers&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But just at this moment the door opened. A sturdy-looking man in blue
+      entered. The Stranger&rsquo;s voice was hushed at once. The excitement
+      died out of his face. His manner all of a sudden was meekness itself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was just coming,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s right, sir,&rdquo; said the man; &ldquo;better come
+      along and not take up the gentleman&rsquo;s time.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-bye, then,&rdquo; said the Stranger, with meek affability, and
+      he went out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man in blue lingered behind for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A sad case, sir,&rdquo; he said, and he tapped his forehead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean&mdash;&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly. Cracked, sir. Quite cracked; but harmless. I&rsquo;m
+      engaged to look after him, but he gave me the slip downstairs.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is under delusions?&rdquo; we inquired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir. He&rsquo;s got it into his head that business in this
+      country has all gone to pieces,&mdash;thinks it must be reorganized. He
+      writes letters about it all day and sends them to the papers with
+      imaginary names. You may have seen some of them. Good day, sir.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We looked at our watch. We had lost just half an hour over the new
+      efficiency. We turned back with a sigh to our old-fashioned task.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XI.&mdash;WHO IS ALSO WHO
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      A Companion Volume to Who&rsquo;s Who
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Note by the editor: I do not quarrel with the contents of such valuable
+      compendiums as &ldquo;Who&rsquo;s Who,&rdquo; &ldquo;Men and Women of the
+      Time,&rdquo; etc., etc. But they leave out the really Representative
+      People. The names that they include are so well known as to need no
+      commentary, while those that they exclude are the very people one most
+      wishes to read about. My new book is not arranged alphabetically, that
+      order having given great offence in certain social circles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Smith, J. Everyman: born Kenoka Springs; educ. Kenoka Springs; present
+      residence, The Springs, Kenoka; address, Kenoka Springs Post-Office; after
+      leaving school threw himself (Oct. 1881) into college study; thrown out of
+      it (April 1882); decided to follow the law; followed it (1882); was left
+      behind (1883); decided (1884) to abandon it; abandoned it; resolved (1885)
+      to turn his energies to finance; turned them (1886); kept them turned
+      (1887); unturned them (1888); was offered position (1889) as sole
+      custodian of Mechanics&rsquo; Institute, Kenoka Springs; decided (same
+      date) to accept it; accepted it; is there now; will be till he dies.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Flintlock, J. Percussion: aged 87; war veteran and pensioner; born, blank;
+      educated, blank; at outbreak of Civil War sprang to arms; both sides;
+      sprang Union first; entered beef contract department of army of U. S.;
+      fought at Chicago, Omaha, and leading (beef) centres of operation during
+      the thickest of the (beef) conflict; was under Hancock, Burnside, Meade,
+      and Grant; fought with all of them; mentioned (very strongly) by all of
+      them; entered Confederate Service (1864); attached (very much) to rum
+      department of quarter-master&rsquo;s staff; mentioned in this connection
+      (very warmly) in despatches of General Lee; mustered out, away out, of
+      army; lost from sight, 1865-1895; placed on pension list with rank of
+      general, 1895; has stayed on, 1895-1915; obtained (on 6th Avenue) war
+      medals and service clasps; publications&mdash;&ldquo;My Campaigns under
+      Grant,&rdquo; &ldquo;Battles I have Saved,&rdquo; &ldquo;Feeding an Army,&rdquo;
+      &ldquo;Stuffing the Public,&rdquo; etc., etc.; recreations, telling war
+      stories; favorite amusement, showing war medals.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Crook, W. Underhand: born, dash; parents, double dash; educated at
+      technical school; on graduation turned his attention to the problem of
+      mechanical timelocks and patent safes; entered Sing-Sing, 1890; resident
+      there, 1890-1893; Auburn, 1894, three months; various state institutions,
+      1895-1898; worked at profession, 1898-1899; Sing-Sing, 1900; professional
+      work, 1901; Sing-Sing, 1902; profession, 1903, Sing-Sing; profession,
+      Sing-Sing, etc., etc.; life appointment, 1908; general favorite, musical,
+      has never killed anybody.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gloomie, Dreary O&rsquo;Leary: Scotch dialect comedian and humorist; well
+      known in Scotland; has standing offer from Duke of Sutherland to put foot
+      on estate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Muck, O. Absolute: novelist; of low German extraction; born Rotterdam;
+      educated Muckendorf; escaped to America; long unrecognized; leaped into
+      prominence by writing &ldquo;The Social Gas-Pipe,&rdquo; a powerful
+      indictment of modern society, written in revenge for not being invited to
+      dinner; other works&mdash;&ldquo;The Sewerage of the Sea-Side,&rdquo; an
+      arraignment of Newport society, reflecting on some of his best friends;
+      &ldquo;Vice and Super-Vice,&rdquo; a telling denunciation of the New York
+      police, written after they had arrested him; &ldquo;White Ravens,&rdquo;
+      an indictment of the clergy; &ldquo;Black Crooks,&rdquo; an indictment of
+      the publishers, etc., etc.; has arraigned and indicted nearly everybody.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Whyner, Egbert Ethelwind: poet, at age of sixteen wrote a quatrain,
+      &ldquo;The Banquet of Nebuchadnezzar,&rdquo; and at once left school;
+      followed it up in less than two years by a poem in six lines &ldquo;America&rdquo;;
+      rested a year and then produced &ldquo;Babylon, A Vision of Civilization,&rdquo;
+      three lines; has written also &ldquo;Herod, a Tragedy,&rdquo; four lines;
+      &ldquo;Revolt of Woman, &ldquo;two lines, and &ldquo;The Day of Judgement,&rdquo;
+      one line. Recreation, writing poetry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Adult, Hon. Underdone: address The Shrubbery, Hopton- under-Hyde,
+      Rotherham-near-Pottersby, Potts, Hants, Hops, England (or words to that
+      effect); organizer of the Boys&rsquo; League of Pathfinders, Chief
+      Commissioner of the Infant Crusaders, Grand Master of the Young Imbeciles;
+      Major-General of the Girl Rangers, Chief of Staff of the Matron Mountain
+      Climbers, etc.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Zfwinski, X. Z.: Polish pianist; plays all night; address 4,570 West 457
+      Street, Westside, Chicago West.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XII.&mdash;PASSIONATE PARAGRAPHS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      (An extract from a recent (very recent) novel, illustrating the new
+      beauties of language and ideas that are being rapidly developed by the
+      twentieth century press.)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His voice as he turned towards her was taut as a tie-line.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t love me!&rdquo; he hoarsed, thick with agony. She
+      had angled into a seat and sat sensing-rather-than-seeing him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a time she silenced. Then presently as he still stood and enveloped
+      her,&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t!&rdquo; she thinned, her voice fining to a thread.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Answer me,&rdquo; he gloomed, still gazing into-and-through her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She half-heard half-didn&rsquo;t-hear him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Night was falling about them as they sat thus beside the river. A molten
+      afterglow of iridescent saffron shot with incandescent carmine lit up the
+      waters of the Hudson till they glowed like electrified uranium.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a while they both sat silent,&mdash;looming.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It had to be,&rdquo; she glumped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, why?&rdquo; he barked. &ldquo;Why should it have had to have
+      been or (more hopefully) even be to be? Surely you don&rsquo;t mean
+      because of MONEY?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She shuddered into herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The thing seemed to sting her (it hadn&rsquo;t really).
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Money!&rdquo; she almost-but-not-quite-moaned. &ldquo;You might
+      have spared me that!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He sank down and grassed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And after they had sat thus for another half-hour grassing and growling
+      and angling and sensing one another, it turned out that all that he was
+      trying to say was to ask if she would marry him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And of course she said yes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0028" id="link2H_4_0028"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XIII.&mdash;WEEJEE THE PET DOG
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      An Idyll of the Summer
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      We were sitting on the verandah of the Sopley&rsquo;s summer cottage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How lovely it is here,&rdquo; I said to my host and hostess,
+      &ldquo;and how still.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was at this moment that Weejee, the pet dog, took a sharp nip at the
+      end of my tennis trousers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Weejee!!&rdquo; exclaimed his mistress with great emphasis, &ldquo;BAD
+      dog! how dare you, sir! BAD dog!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope he hasn&rsquo;t hurt you,&rdquo; said my host.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, it&rsquo;s nothing,&rdquo; I answered cheerfully. &ldquo;He
+      hardly scratched me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know I don&rsquo;t think he means anything by it,&rdquo; said
+      Mrs. Sopley.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I&rsquo;m SURE he doesn&rsquo;t,&rdquo; I answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Weejee was coming nearer to me again as I spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;WEEJEE!!&rdquo; cried my hostess, &ldquo;naughty dog, bad!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Funny thing about that dog,&rdquo; said Sopley, &ldquo;the way he
+      KNOWS people. It&rsquo;s a sort of instinct. He knew right away that you
+      were a stranger,&mdash;now, yesterday, when the butcher came, there was a
+      new driver on the cart and Weejee knew it right away,&mdash;grabbed the
+      man by the leg at once,&mdash;wouldn&rsquo;t let go. I called out to the
+      man that it was all right or he might have done Weejee some harm.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At this moment Weejee took the second nip at my other trouser leg. There
+      was a short GUR-R-R and a slight mix-up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Weejee! Weejee!&rdquo; called Mrs. Sopley. &ldquo;How DARE you,
+      sir! You&rsquo;re just a BAD dog!! Go and lie down, sir. I&rsquo;m so
+      sorry. I think, you know, it&rsquo;s your white trousers. For some reason
+      Weejee simply HATES white trousers. I do hope he hasn&rsquo;t torn them.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no,&rdquo; I said; &ldquo;it&rsquo;s nothing only a slight
+      tear.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here, Weege, Weege,&rdquo; said Sopley, anxious to make a diversion
+      and picking up a little chip of wood,&mdash;&ldquo;chase it, fetch it out!&rdquo;
+      and he made the motions of throwing it into the lake.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t throw it too far, Charles,&rdquo; said his wife.
+      &ldquo;He doesn&rsquo;t swim awfully well,&rdquo; she continued, turning
+      to me, &ldquo;and I&rsquo;m always afraid he might get out of his depth.
+      Last week he was ever so nearly drowned. Mr. Van Toy was in swimming, and
+      he had on a dark blue suit (dark blue seems simply to infuriate Weejee)
+      and Weejee just dashed in after him. He don&rsquo;t MEAN anything, you
+      know, it was only the SUIT made him angry,&mdash;he really likes Mr. Van
+      Toy,&mdash;but just for a minute we were quite alarmed. If Mr. Van Toy
+      hadn&rsquo;t carried Weejee in I think he might have been drowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By jove!&rdquo; I said in a tone to indicate how appalled I was.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me throw the stick, Charles,&rdquo; continued Mrs. Sopley.
+      &ldquo;Now, Weejee, look Weejee&mdash;here, good dog&mdash;look! look now
+      (sometimes Weejee simply won&rsquo;t do what one wants), here, Weejee;
+      now, good dog!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Weejee had his tail sideways between his legs and was moving towards me
+      again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hold on,&rdquo; said Sopley in a stern tone, &ldquo;let me throw
+      him in.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do be careful, Charles,&rdquo; said his wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sopley picked Weejee up by the collar and carried him to the edge of the
+      water&mdash;it was about six inches deep,&mdash;and threw him in,&mdash;with
+      much the same force as, let us say, a pen is thrown into ink or a brush
+      dipped into a pot of varnish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s enough; that&rsquo;s quite enough, Charles,&rdquo;
+      exclaimed Mrs. Sopley. &ldquo;I think he&rsquo;d better not swim. The
+      water in the evening is always a little cold. Good dog, good doggie, good
+      Weejee!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meantime &ldquo;good Weejee&rdquo; had come out of the water and was
+      moving again towards me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He goes straight to you,&rdquo; said my hostess. &ldquo;I think he
+      must have taken a fancy to you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To prove it, Weejee gave himself a rotary whirl like a twirled mop.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I&rsquo;m SO sorry,&rdquo; said Mrs. Sopley. &ldquo;I am. He&rsquo;s
+      wetted you. Weejee, lie down, down, sir, good dog, bad dog, lie down!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s all right,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve another
+      white suit in my valise.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you must be wet through,&rdquo; said Mrs. Sopley. &ldquo;Perhaps
+      we&rsquo;d better go in. It&rsquo;s getting late, anyway, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;
+      And then she added to her husband, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think Weejee ought
+      to sit out here now that he&rsquo;s wet.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So we went in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think you&rsquo;ll find everything you need,&rdquo; said Sopley,
+      as he showed me to my room, &ldquo;and, by the way, don&rsquo;t mind if
+      Weejee comes into your room at night. We like to let him run all over the
+      house and he often sleeps on this bed.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; I said cheerfully, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll look after
+      him.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That night Weejee came.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And when it was far on in the dead of night&mdash;so that even the lake
+      and the trees were hushed in sleep, I took Weejee out and&mdash;but there
+      is no need to give the details of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the Sopleys are still wondering where Weejee has gone to, and waiting
+      for him to come back, because he is so clever at finding his way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But from where Weejee is, no one finds his way back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XIV.&mdash;SIDELIGHTS ON THE SUPERMEN
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      An Interview with General Bernhardi
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      He came into my room in that modest, Prussian way that he has, clicking
+      his heels together, his head very erect, his neck tightly gripped in his
+      forty-two centimeter collar. He had on a Pickelhaube, or Prussian helmet,
+      which he removed with a sweeping gesture and laid on the sofa.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So I knew at once that it was General Bernhardi.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In spite of his age he looked&mdash;I am bound to admit it&mdash;a fine
+      figure of a man. There was a splendid fullness about his chest and
+      shoulders, and a suggestion of rugged power all over him. I had not heard
+      him on the stairs. He seemed to appear suddenly beside me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How did you get past the janitor?&rdquo; I asked. For it was late
+      at night, and my room at college is three flights up the stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The janitor,&rdquo; he answered carelessly, &ldquo;I killed him.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I gave a gasp.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His resistance,&rdquo; the general went on, &ldquo;was very slight.
+      Apparently in this country your janitors are unarmed.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You killed him?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We Prussians,&rdquo; said Bernhardi, &ldquo;when we wish an
+      immediate access anywhere, always kill the janitor. It is quicker: and it
+      makes for efficiency. It impresses them with a sense of our Furchtbarkeit.
+      You have no word for that in English, I believe?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not outside of a livery stable,&rdquo; I answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a pause. I was thinking of the janitor. It seemed in a sort of
+      way&mdash;I admit that I have a sentimental streak in me&mdash;a
+      deplorable thing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sit down,&rdquo; I said presently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; answered the General, but remained standing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;do it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; he repeated, without moving.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I forgot,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Perhaps you CAN&rsquo;T sit down.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not very well,&rdquo; he answered; &ldquo;in fact, we Prussian
+      officers&rdquo;&mdash;here he drew himself up higher still&mdash;&ldquo;never
+      sit down. Our uniforms do not permit of it. This inspires us with a kind
+      of Rastlosigkeit.&rdquo; Here his eyes glittered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It must,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In fact, with an Unsittlichkeit&mdash;an Unverschamtheit&mdash;with
+      an Ein-fur-alle-mal-un-dur-chaus&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly,&rdquo; I said, for I saw that he was getting excited,
+      &ldquo;but pray tell me, General, to what do I owe the honour of this
+      visit?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The General&rsquo;s manner changed at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Highly learned, and high-well-born-professor,&rdquo; he said,
+      &ldquo;I come to you as to a fellow author, known and honoured not merely
+      in England, for that is nothing, but in Germany herself, and in Turkey,
+      the very home of Culture.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I knew that it was mere flattery. I knew that in this same way Lord
+      Haldane had been so captivated as to come out of the Emperor&rsquo;s
+      presence unable to say anything but &ldquo;Sittlichkeit&rdquo; for weeks;
+      that good old John Burns had been betrayed by a single dinner at Potsdam,
+      and that the Sultan of Turkey had been told that his Answers to Ultimatums
+      were the wittiest things written since Kant&rsquo;s Critique of Pure
+      Reason. Yet I was pleased in spite of myself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&rdquo; I exclaimed, &ldquo;they know my works of humour in
+      Germany?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do they know them?&rdquo; said the General. &ldquo;Ach! Himmel! How
+      they laugh. That work of yours (I think I see it on the shelf behind you),
+      The Elements of Political Science, how the Kaiser has laughed over it! And
+      the Crown Prince! It nearly killed him!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will send him the new edition,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;But tell me,
+      General, what is it that you want of me?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is about my own book,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;You have read
+      it?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I pointed to a copy of Germany and the Next War, in its glaring yellow
+      cover&mdash;the very hue of Furchtbarkeit&mdash;lying on the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have read it? You have really read it?&rdquo; asked the General
+      with great animation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;I won&rsquo;t go so far as to say that.
+      But I have TRIED to read it. And I talk about it as if I had read it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The General&rsquo;s face fell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are as the others,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;They buy the book,
+      they lay it on the table, they talk of it at dinner,&mdash;they say
+      &lsquo;Bernhardi has prophesied this, Bernhardi foresaw that,&rsquo; but
+      read it,&mdash;nevermore.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Still,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;you get the royalties.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are cut off. The perfidious British Government will not allow
+      the treacherous publisher to pay them. But that is not my complaint.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the matter, then?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My book is misunderstood. You English readers have failed to grasp
+      its intention. It is not meant as a book of strategy. It is what you call
+      a work of humour. The book is to laugh. It is one big joke.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t say so!&rdquo; I said in astonishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Assuredly,&rdquo; answered the General. &ldquo;Here&rdquo;&mdash;and
+      with this he laid hold of the copy of the book before me and began rapidly
+      turning over the leaves&mdash;&ldquo;let me set it out asunder for you,
+      the humour of it. Listen, though, to this, where I speak of Germany&rsquo;s
+      historical mission on page 73,&mdash;&lsquo;No nation on the face of the
+      globe is so able to grasp and appropriate all the elements of culture as
+      Germany is?&rsquo; What do you say to that? Is it not a joke? Ach, Himmel,
+      how our officers have laughed over that in Belgium! With their booted feet
+      on the mantelpiece as they read and with bottles of appropriated champagne
+      beside them as they laugh.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right, General,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;you will forgive my
+      not laughing out loud, but you are a great humorist.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Am I not? And listen further still, how I deal with the theme of
+      the German character,&mdash;&lsquo;Moral obligations such as no nation had
+      ever yet made the standard of conduct, are laid down by the German
+      philosophers.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;gloriously funny; read me some more.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This, then, you will like,&mdash;here I deal with the permissible
+      rules of war. It is on page 236 that I am reading it. I wrote this chiefly
+      to make laugh our naval men and our Zeppelin crews,&mdash;&lsquo;A
+      surprise attack, in order to be justified, must be made only on the armed
+      forces of the state and not on its peaceful inhabitants. Otherwise the
+      attack becomes a treacherous crime.&rsquo; Eh, what?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here the General broke into roars of laughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wonderful,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Your book ought to sell well in
+      Scarborough and in Yarmouth. Read some more.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should like to read you what I say about neutrality, and how
+      England is certain to violate our strategical right by an attack on
+      Belgium and about the sharp measures that ought to be taken against
+      neutral ships laden with contraband,&mdash;the passages are in Chapters
+      VII and VIII, but for the moment I fail to lay the thumb on them.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me the book, General,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Now that I
+      understand what you meant by it, I think I can show you also some very
+      funny passages in it. These things, for example, that you say about Canada
+      and the colonies,&mdash;yes, here it is, page 148,&mdash;&lsquo;In the
+      event of war the loosely-joined British Empire will break into pieces, and
+      the colonies will consult their own interests,&rsquo;&mdash;excellently
+      funny,&mdash;and this again,&mdash;&lsquo;Canada will not permanently
+      retain any trace of the English spirit,&rsquo;&mdash;and this too,&mdash;&lsquo;the
+      Colonies can be completely ignored so far as the European theatre of war
+      is concerned,&rsquo;&mdash;and here again,&mdash;&lsquo;Egypt and South
+      Africa will at once revolt and break away from the empire,&rsquo; &mdash;really,
+      General, your ideas of the British Colonies are superbly funny. Mark Twain
+      wasn&rsquo;t a circumstance on you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not at all,&rdquo; said Bernhardi, and his voice reverted to his
+      habitual Prussian severity, &ldquo;these are not jokes. They are facts. It
+      is only through the folly of the Canadians in not reading my book that
+      they are not more widely known. Even as it is they are exactly the views
+      of your great leader Heinrich Bauratze&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who?&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Heinrich Bauratze, your great Canadian leader&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Leader of what?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That I do not know,&rdquo; said Bernhardi. &ldquo;Our intelligence
+      office has not yet heard what he leads. But as soon as he leads anything
+      we shall know it. Meantime we can see from his speeches that he has read
+      my book. Ach! if only your other leaders in Canada,&mdash;Sir Robert
+      Laurier, Sir Osler Sifton, Sir Williams Borden,&mdash;you smile, you do
+      not realize that in Germany we have exact information of everything: all
+      that happens, we know it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meantime I had been looking over the leaves of the book.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here at least,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;is some splendidly humorous
+      stuff,&mdash;this about the navy. &lsquo;The completion of the Kiel Canal,&rsquo;
+      you write in Chapter XII, &lsquo;is of great importance as it will enable
+      our largest battleships to appear unexpectedly in the Baltic and in the
+      North Sea!&rsquo; Appear unexpectedly! If they only would! How exquisitely
+      absurd&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir!&rdquo; said the General. &ldquo;That is not to laugh. You err
+      yourself. That is Furchtbarkeit. I did not say the book is all humour.
+      That would be false art. Part of it is humour and part is Furchbarkeit.
+      That passage is specially designed to frighten Admiral Jellicoe. And he
+      won&rsquo;t read it! Potztausand, he won&rsquo;t read it!&rdquo;&mdash;repeated
+      the general, his eyes flashing and his clenched fist striking in the air&mdash;&ldquo;What
+      sort of combatants are these of the British Navy who refuse to read our
+      war-books? The Kaiser&rsquo;s Heligoland speech! They never read a word of
+      it. The Furchtbarkeit-Proklamation of August,&mdash;they never looked at
+      it. The Reichstags-Rede with the printed picture of the Kaiser shaking
+      hands with everybody,&mdash;they used it to wrap up sandwiches! What are
+      they, then, Jellicoe and his men? They sit there in their ships and they
+      read nothing! How can we get at them if they refuse to read? How can we
+      frighten them away if they haven&rsquo;t culture enough to get frightened.
+      Beim Himmel,&rdquo; shouted the General in great excitement&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But what more he said can never be known. For at this second a sudden
+      catastrophe happened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In his frenzy of excitement the General struck with his fist at the table,
+      missed it, lost his balance and fell over sideways right on the point of
+      his Pickelhaube which he had laid on the sofa. There was a sudden sound as
+      of the ripping of cloth and the bursting of pneumatic cushions and to my
+      amazement the General collapsed on the sofa, his uniform suddenly
+      punctured in a dozen places.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Schnapps,&rdquo; he cried, &ldquo;fetch brandy.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Great Heavens! General,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;what has happened?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My uniform!&rdquo; he moaned, &ldquo;it has burst! Give me
+      Schnapps!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He seemed to shrink visibly in size. His magnificent chest was gone. He
+      was shrivelling into a tattered heap. He appeared as he lay there, a very
+      allegory and illustration of Prussian Furchtbarkeit with the wind going
+      out of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fetch Schnapps,&rdquo;&mdash;he moaned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are no Schnapps here,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;this is McGill
+      University.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then call the janitor,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You killed him,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t. I was lying. I gave him a look that should have
+      killed him, but I don&rsquo;t think it did. Rouse yourself from your
+      chair, and call him&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will,&rdquo; I said, and started up from my seat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But as I did so, the form of General Bernhardi, which I could have sworn
+      had been lying in a tattered heap on the sofa on the other side of the
+      room, seemed suddenly to vanish from my eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was nothing before me but the empty room with the fire burned low in
+      the grate, and in front of me an open copy of Bernhardi&rsquo;s book.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I must,&mdash;like many another reader,&mdash;have fallen asleep over it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0030" id="link2H_4_0030"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XV.&mdash;THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      A bell tinkled over the door of the little drug store as I entered it;
+      which seemed strange in a lighted street of a great city.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the little store itself, dim even in the centre and dark in the
+      corners was gloomy enough for a country crossroads.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have to have the bell,&rdquo; said the man behind the counter,
+      reading my thought, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m alone here just now.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A toothbrush?&rdquo; he said in answer to my question. &ldquo;Yes,
+      I guess I&rsquo;ve got some somewhere round here.&rdquo; He was stooping
+      under and behind his counter and his voice came up from below. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve
+      got some somewhere&mdash;&rdquo; And then as if talking to himself he
+      murmured from behind a pile of cardboard boxes, &ldquo;I saw some Tuesday.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Had I gone across the street to the brilliant premises of the Cut Rate
+      Pharmaceutical where they burn electric light by the meterfull I should no
+      sooner have said &ldquo;tooth brush,&rdquo; than one of the ten clerks in
+      white hospital jackets would have poured a glittering assortment over the
+      counter&mdash;prophylactic, lactic and every other sort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But I had turned in, I don&rsquo;t know why, to the little store across
+      the way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here, I guess these must be tooth brushes,&rdquo; he said,
+      reappearing at the level of the counter with a flat box in his hand. They
+      must have been presumably, or have once been,&mdash;at some time long ago.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They&rsquo;re tooth brushes all right,&rdquo; he said, and started
+      looking over them with an owner&rsquo;s interest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the price of them?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; the man said musingly, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t&mdash;jest&mdash;know.
+      I guess it&rsquo;s written on them likely,&rdquo; and he began to look at
+      the handles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Over at the Pharmaceutical across the way the words &ldquo;what price?&rdquo;
+      would have precipitated a ready avalanche of figures.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This one seems to be seventy-five cents,&rdquo; he said and handed
+      me one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it a good tooth brush?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It ought to be,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you&rsquo;d think, at that
+      price.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had no shop talk, no patter whatever.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then he looked at the brush again, more closely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe it IS seventy-five,&rdquo; he muttered,
+      &ldquo;I think it must be fifteen, don&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I took it from his hand and looked and said,&mdash;for it is well to take
+      an occasional step towards the Kingdom of Heaven,&mdash;that I was certain
+      it was seventy-five.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said the man, &ldquo;perhaps it is, my sight is not so
+      good now. I&rsquo;ve had too much to do here and the work&rsquo;s been
+      using me up some.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I noticed now as he said this how frail he looked as he bent over his
+      counter wrapping up the tooth brush.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve no sealing wax,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;or not handy.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That doesn&rsquo;t matter,&rdquo; I answered, &ldquo;just put it in
+      the paper.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Over the way of course the tooth brush would have been done up almost
+      instantaneously, in white enamel paper, sealed at the end and stamped with
+      a label, as fast as the money paid for it went rattling along an automatic
+      carrier to a cashier.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve been very busy, eh?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, not so much with customers,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but with
+      fixing up the place,&rdquo;&mdash;here he glanced about him. Heaven only
+      knows what he had fixed. There were no visible signs of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see I&rsquo;ve only been in here a couple of months. It was a
+      pretty tough looking place when I came to it. But I&rsquo;ve been getting
+      things fixed. First thing I did I put those two carboys in the window with
+      the lights behind them. They show up fine, don&rsquo;t they?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fine!&rdquo; I repeated; so fine indeed that the dim yellow light
+      in them reached three or four feet from the jar. But for the streaming
+      light from the great store across the street, the windows of the little
+      shop would have been invisible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a good location here,&rdquo; he said. Any one could have
+      told him that it was the worst location within two miles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll get it going presently,&rdquo; he went on. &ldquo;Of
+      course it&rsquo;s uphill just at first. Being such a good location the
+      rent is high. The first two weeks I was here I was losing five dollars a
+      day. But I got those lights in the window and got the stock overhauled a
+      little to make it attractive and last month I reckon I was only losing
+      three dollars a day.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s better,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; he went on, and there was a clear glint of purpose
+      in his eye that contrasted with his sunken cheeks. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll get
+      it going. This last two weeks I&rsquo;m not losing more than say two and a
+      half a day or something like that? The custom is bound to come. You get a
+      place fixed up and made attractive like this and people are sure to come
+      sooner or later.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What it was that was fixed up, and wherein lay the attractiveness I do not
+      know. It could not be seen with the outward eye. Perhaps after two months&rsquo;
+      work of piling dusty boxes now this way, now that, and putting little
+      candles behind the yellow carboys to try the effect, some inward vision
+      came that lighted the place up with an attractiveness wanting even in the
+      glass and marble glitter of the Pharmacy across the way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir,&rdquo; continued the man, &ldquo;I mean to stay with it.
+      I&rsquo;ll get things into shape here, fix it up a little more and soon I&rsquo;ll
+      have it,&rdquo;&mdash;here his face radiated with a vision of hope&mdash;&ldquo;so
+      that I won&rsquo;t lose a single cent.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I looked at him in surprise. So humble an ambition it had never been my
+      lot to encounter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All that bothers me,&rdquo; he went on, &ldquo;is my health. It&rsquo;s
+      a nice business the drug business: I like it, but it takes it out of you.
+      You&rsquo;ve got to be alert and keen all the time; thinking out plans to
+      please the custom when it comes. Often I don&rsquo;t sleep well nights for
+      the rush of it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I looked about the little shop, as gloomy and sleepful as the mausoleum of
+      an eastern king, and wondered by what alchemy of the mind the little
+      druggist found it a very vortex of activity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I can fix my health,&rdquo; he returned&mdash;&ldquo;I may have
+      to get some one in here and go away for a spell. Perhaps I&rsquo;ll do it.
+      The doctor was saying he thought I might take a spell off and think out a
+      few more wrinkles while I&rsquo;m away.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the word &ldquo;doctor&rdquo; I looked at him more warmly, and I saw
+      then what was plain enough to see but for the dim light of the little
+      place,&mdash;the thin flush on the cheek, the hopeful mind, the contrast
+      of the will to live and the need to die, God&rsquo;s little irony on man,
+      it was all there plain enough to read. The &ldquo;spell&rdquo; for which
+      the little druggist was going is that which is written in letters of
+      sorrow over the sunlit desolation of Arizona and the mountains of
+      Colorado.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A month went by before I passed that way again. I looked across at the
+      little store and I read the story in its drawn blinds and the padlock on
+      its door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The little druggist had gone away for a spell. And they told me, on
+      enquiry, that his journey had been no further than to the cemetery behind
+      the town where he lies now, musing, if he still can, on the law of the
+      survival of the fittest in this well-adjusted world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And they say that the shock of the addition of his whole business to the
+      great Pharmacy across the way scarcely disturbed a soda siphon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0031" id="link2H_4_0031"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XVI&mdash;THE FIRST NEWSPAPER
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      A Sort of Allegory
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      How likes it you, Master Brenton?&rdquo; said the brawny journeyman,
+      spreading out the news sheet on a smooth oaken table where it lay under
+      the light of a leaded window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A marvellous fair sheet,&rdquo; murmured Brenton Caxton, seventh of
+      the name, &ldquo;let me but adjust my glasses and peruse it further lest
+      haply there be still aught in it that smacks of error.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It needs not,&rdquo; said the journeyman, &ldquo;&lsquo;tis the
+      fourth time already from the press.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay, nay,&rdquo; answered Master Brenton softly, as he adjusted his
+      great horn-rimmed spectacles and bent his head over the broad damp news
+      sheet before him. &ldquo;Let us grudge no care in this. The venture is a
+      new one and, meseems, a very parlous thing withal. &lsquo;Tis a venture
+      that may easily fail and carry down our fortunes with it, but at least let
+      it not be said that it failed for want of brains in the doing.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fail quotha!&rdquo; said a third man, who had not yet spoken, old,
+      tall and sour of visage and wearing a printer&rsquo;s leather apron. He
+      had moved over from the further side of the room where a little group of
+      apprentices stood beside the wooden presses that occupied the corner, and
+      he was looking over the shoulder of Master Brenton Caxton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How can it do aught else? &lsquo;Tis a mad folly. Mark you, Master
+      Brenton and Master Nick, I have said it from the first and let the blame
+      be none of mine. &lsquo;Tis a mad thing you do here. See then,&rdquo; he
+      went on, turning and waving his hand, &ldquo;this vast room, these great
+      presses, yonder benches and tools, all new, yonder vats of ink straight
+      out of Flanders, how think you you can recover the cost of all this out of
+      yonder poor sheets? Five and forty years have I followed this mystery of
+      printing, ever since thy grandfather&rsquo;s day, Master Brenton, and
+      never have I seen the like. What needed this great chamber when your
+      grandfather and father were content with but a garret place, and yonder
+      presses that can turn off four score copies in the compass of a single
+      hour,&mdash;&lsquo;Tis mad folly, I say.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The moment was an interesting one. The speakers were in a great room with
+      a tall ceiling traversed by blackened beams. From the street below there
+      came dimly through the closed casements the sound of rumbling traffic and
+      the street cries of the London of the seventeenth century. Two vast
+      presses of such colossal size that their wooden levers would tax the
+      strength of the stoutest apprentice, were ranged against the further wall.
+      About the room, spread out on oaken chairs and wooden benches, were flat
+      boxes filled with leaden type, freshly molten, and a great pile of paper,
+      larger than a man could lift, stood in a corner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The first English newspaper in history was going to press. Those who in
+      later ages,&mdash;editors, printers, and workers&mdash;have participated
+      in the same scene, can form some idea of the hopes and fears, the doubts
+      and the difficulties, with which the first newspaper was ushered into the
+      world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Master Brenton Caxton turned upon the last speaker the undisturbed look of
+      the eye that sees far across the present into the years to come.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay, Edward,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you have laboured over much in
+      the past and see not into the future. You think this chamber too great for
+      our purpose? I tell you the time will come when not this room alone but
+      three or four such will be needed for our task. Already I have it in my
+      mind that I will divide even this room into portions, with walls shrewdly
+      placed through its length and breadth, so that each that worketh shall sit
+      as it were in his own chamber and there shall stand one at the door and
+      whosoever cometh, to whatever part of our task his business appertains, he
+      shall forthwith be brought to the room of him that hath charge of it.
+      Cometh he with a madrigal or other light poesy that he would set out on
+      the press, he shall find one that has charge of such matters and can
+      discern their true value. Or, cometh he with news of aught that happens in
+      the realm, so shall he be brought instant to the room of him that
+      recordeth such events. Or, if so be, he would write a discourse on what
+      seemeth him some wise conceit touching the public concerns, he shall find
+      to his hand a convenient desk with ink and quills and all that he needeth
+      to set it straightway on paper; thus shall there be a great abundance of
+      written matter to our hand so that not many days shall elapse after one of
+      our news sheets goes abroad before there be matter enough to fill another.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Days!&rdquo; said the aged printer, &ldquo;think you you can fill
+      one of these news sheets in a few days! Where indeed if you search the
+      whole realm will you find talk enough in a single week to fill out this
+      great sheet half an ell wide!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay, days indeed!&rdquo; broke in Master Nicholas, the younger
+      journeyman. &ldquo;Master Brenton speaks truth, or less than truth. For
+      not days indeed, but in the compass of a single day, I warrant you, shall
+      we find the matter withal.&rdquo; Master Nicholas spoke with the same
+      enthusiasm as his chief, but with less of the dreamer in his voice and
+      eye, and with more swift eagerness of the practical man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fill it, indeed,&rdquo; he went on. &ldquo;Why, Gad Zooks! man! who
+      knoweth what happenings there are and what not till one essays the
+      gathering of them! And should it chance that there is nothing of greater
+      import, no boar hunt of his Majesty to record, nor the news of some great
+      entertainment by one of the Lords of the Court, then will we put in lesser
+      matter, aye whatever comes to hand, the talk of his Majesty&rsquo;s
+      burgesses in the Parliament or any such things.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hear him!&rdquo; sneered the printer, &ldquo;the talk of his
+      Majesty&rsquo;s burgesses in Westminster, forsooth! And what clerk or
+      learned person would care to read of such? Or think you that His Majesty&rsquo;s
+      Chamberlain would long bear that such idle chatter should be bruited
+      abroad. If you can find no worthier thing for this our news sheet than the
+      talk of the Burgesses, then shall it fail indeed. Had it been the speech
+      of the King&rsquo;s great barons and the bishops twere different. But dost
+      fancy that the great barons would allow that their weighty discourses be
+      reduced to common speech so that even the vulgar may read it and haply
+      here and there fathom their very thought itself,&mdash;and the bishops,
+      the great prelates, to submit their ideas to the vulgar hand of a common
+      printer, framing them into mere sentences! &lsquo;Tis unthinkable that
+      they would sanction it!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye,&rdquo; murmured Caxton in his dreaming voice, &ldquo;the time
+      shall come, Master Edward, when they will not only sanction it but seek
+      it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look you,&rdquo; broke in Master Nick, &ldquo;let us have done with
+      this talk? Whether there be enough happenings or not enough,&rdquo;&mdash;and
+      here he spoke with a kindling eye and looked about him at the little group
+      of apprentices and printers, who had drawn near to listen, &ldquo;if there
+      be not enough, then will I MAKE THINGS HAPPEN. What is easier than to tell
+      of happenings forth of the realm of which no man can know,&mdash;some talk
+      of the Grand Turk and the war that he makes, or some happenings in the New
+      Land found by Master Columbus. Aye,&rdquo; he went on, warming to his
+      words and not knowing that he embodied in himself the first birth on earth
+      of the telegraphic editor,&mdash;&ldquo;and why not. One day we write it
+      out on our sheet &lsquo;The Grand Turk maketh disastrous war on the
+      Bulgars of the North and hath burnt divers of their villages.&rsquo; And
+      that hath no sooner gone forth than we print another sheet saying, It
+      would seem that the villages be not burnt but only scorched, nor doth it
+      appear that the Turk burnt them but that the Bulgars burnt divers villages
+      of the Turk and are sitting now in his mosque in the city of Hadrian.&rsquo;
+      Then shall all men run to and fro and read the sheet and question and ask,
+      &lsquo;Is it thus?&rsquo; And, &lsquo;Is it thus?&rsquo; and by very
+      uncertainty of circumstances, they shall demand the more curiously to see
+      the news sheet and read it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay, nay, Master Nick,&rdquo; said Brenton, firmly, &ldquo;that
+      will I never allow. Let us make it to ourselves a maxim that all that
+      shall be said in this news sheet, or &lsquo;news paper,&rsquo; as my
+      conceit would fain call it, for be it not made of paper (here a merry
+      laugh of the apprentices greeted the quaint fancy of the Master), shall be
+      of ascertained verity and fact indisputable. Should the Grand Turk make
+      war and should the rumour of it come to these isles, then will we say
+      &lsquo;The Turk maketh war,&rsquo; and should the Turk be at peace, then
+      we will say &lsquo;The Turk it doth appear is now at peace.&rsquo; And
+      should no news come, then shall we say &lsquo;In good sooth we know not
+      whether the Turk destroyeth the Bulgars or whether he doth not, for while
+      some hold that he harasseth them sorely, others have it that he harasseth
+      them not, whereby we are sore put to it to know whether there be war or
+      peace, nor do we desire to vex the patience of those who read by any
+      further discourse on the matter, other than to say that we ourselves are
+      in doubt what be and what be not truth, nor will we any further speak of
+      it other than this.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Those about Caxton listened with awe to this speech. They did not,&mdash;they
+      could not know,&mdash;that this was the birth of the Leading Article, but
+      there was something in the strangely fascinating way in which their chief
+      enlarged upon his own ignorance that foreshowed to the meanest
+      intelligence the possibilities of the future.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nicholas shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Tis a poor plan, Master Brenton,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;the
+      folk wish news, give them the news. The more thou givest them, the better
+      pleased they are and thus doth the news sheet move from hand to hand till
+      it may be said (if I too may coin a phrase) to increase vastly its &lsquo;circulation&rsquo;&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In sooth,&rdquo; said Master Brenton, looking at Nicholas with a
+      quiet expression that was not exempt from a certain slyness, &ldquo;there
+      I do hold thou art in the wrong, even as a matter of craft or policie. For
+      it seems to me that if our paper speaketh first this and then that but
+      hath no fixed certainty of truth, sooner or later will all its talk seem
+      vain, and no man will heed it. But if it speak always the truth, then
+      sooner or later shall all come to believe it and say of any happening,
+      &lsquo;It standeth written in the paper, therefore it is so.&rsquo; And
+      here I charge you all that have any part in this new venture,&rdquo;
+      continued Master Brenton, looking about the room at the listening faces
+      and speaking with great seriousness, &ldquo;let us lay it to our hearts
+      that our maxim shall be truth and truth alone. Let no man set his hand to
+      aught that shall go upon our presses save only that which is assured
+      truth. In this way shall our venture ever be pleasing to the Most High,
+      and I do verily believe,&rdquo;&mdash;and here Caxton&rsquo;s voice sank
+      lower as if he were thinking aloud,&mdash;&ldquo;in the long run, it will
+      be mighty good for our circulation.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The speaker paused. Then turning to the broad sheet before him, he began
+      to scan its columns with his eye. The others stood watching him as he
+      read.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is this, Master Edward,&rdquo; he queried presently, &ldquo;here
+      I see in this first induct, or column, as one names it, the word King
+      fairly and truly spelled. Lower down it standeth Kyng, and yet further in
+      the second induct Kynge, and in the last induct where there is talk of His
+      Majesty&rsquo;s marvelous skill in the French game of palm or tennis, lo
+      the word stands Quhyngge! How sayeth thou?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wouldst have it written always in but one and the same way?&rdquo;
+      asked the printer in astonishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye, truly,&rdquo; said Caxton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With never any choice, or variation to suit the fancy of him who
+      reads so that he who likes it written King may see it so, and yet also he
+      who would prefer it written in a freer style, or Quhyngge, may also find
+      it so and thus both be pleased.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will I never have!&rdquo; said Master Brenton firmly, &ldquo;dost
+      not remember, friend, the old tale in the fabula of Aesopus of him who
+      would please all men. Here will I make another maxim for our newspaper.
+      All men we cannot please, for in pleasing one belike we run counter to
+      another. Let us set our hand to write always without fear. Let us seek
+      favour with none. Always in our news sheet we will seek to speak dutifully
+      and with all reverence of the King his Majesty: let us also speak with all
+      respect and commendation of His Majesty&rsquo;s great prelates and nobles,
+      for are they not the exalted of the land? Also I would have it that we say
+      nothing harsh against our wealthy merchants and burgesses, for hath not
+      the Lord prospered them in their substances. Yea, friends, let us speak
+      ever well of the King, the clergy, the nobility and of all persons of
+      wealth and substantial holdings. But beyond this&rdquo;&mdash;here Brenton
+      Coxton&rsquo;s eye flashed,&mdash;&ldquo;let us speak with utter
+      fearlessness of all men. So shall we be, if I may borrow a mighty good
+      word from Tacitus his Annals, of a complete independence, hanging on to no
+      man. In fact our venture shall be an independent newspaper.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The listeners felt an instinctive awe at the words, and again a strange
+      prescience of the future made itself felt in every mind. Here for the
+      first time in history was being laid down that fine, fearless creed that
+      has made the independent press what it is.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meantime Caxton continued to glance his eye over the news sheet, murmuring
+      his comments on what he saw,&mdash;&ldquo;Ah! vastly fine, Master
+      Nicholas,&mdash;this of the sailing of His Majesty&rsquo;s ships for
+      Spain,&mdash;and this, too, of the Doge of Venice, his death, &lsquo;tis
+      brave reading and maketh a fair discourse. Here also this likes me,
+      &lsquo;tis shrewdly devised,&rdquo; and here he placed his finger on a
+      particular spot on the news sheet,&mdash;&ldquo;here in speaking of the
+      strange mishap of my Lord Arundel, thou useth a great S for strange, and
+      setteth it in a line all by itself whereby the mind of him that reads is
+      suddenly awakened, alarmed as it were by a bell in the night. &lsquo;Tis
+      good. &lsquo;Tis well. But mark you, friend Nicholas, try it not too
+      often, nor use your great letters too easily. In the case of my Lord
+      Arundel, it is seemly, but for a mishap to a lesser person, let it stand
+      in a more modest fashion.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a pause. Then suddenly Caxton looked up again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What manner of tale is this! What strange thing is here! In faith,
+      Master Nicholas, whence hast thou so marvelous a thing! The whole world
+      must know of it. Harken ye all to this!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Let all men that be troubled of aches, spavins, rheums,
+      boils, maladies of the spleen or humours of the blood, come forthwith to
+      the sign of the Red Lantern in East Cheap. There shall they find one that
+      hath a marvelous remedy for all such ailments, brought with great dangers
+      and perils of the journey from a far distant land. This wonderous balm
+      shall straightway make the sick to be well and the lame to walk. Rubbed on
+      the eye it restoreth sight and applied to the ear it reviveth the hearing.
+      Tis the sole invention of Doctor Gustavus Friedman, sometime of Gottingen
+      and brought by him hitherwards out of the sheer pity of his heart for them
+      that be afflicted, nor shall any other fee be asked for it save only such
+      a light and tender charge as shall defray the cost of Doctor Friedman his
+      coming and going.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Caxton paused and gazed at Master Nicholas in wonder. &ldquo;Whence hadst
+      thou this?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Master Nicholas smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had it of a chapman, or travelling doctor, who was most urgent
+      that we set it forth straightway on the press.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And is it true?&rdquo; asked Caxton; &ldquo;thou hast it of a full
+      surety of knowledge?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nicholas laughed lightly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;True or false, I know not,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but the fellow
+      was so curious that we should print it that he gave me two golden laurels
+      and a new sovereign on the sole understanding that we should set it forth
+      in print.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was deep silence for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He PAYETH to have it printed!&rdquo; said Caxton, deeply impressed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye,&rdquo; said Master Nicholas, &ldquo;he payeth and will pay
+      more. The fellow hath other balms equally potent. All of these he would
+      admonish, or shall I say advert, the public.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So,&rdquo; said Caxton, thoughtfully, &ldquo;he wishes to make, if
+      I may borrow a phrase of Albertus Magnus, an advertisement of his goods.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Even so,&rdquo; said Nicholas.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see,&rdquo; said the Master, &ldquo;he payeth us. We advert the
+      goods. Forthwith all men buy them. Then hath he more money. He payeth us
+      again. We advert the goods more and still he payeth us. That would seem to
+      me, friend Nick, a mighty good busyness for us.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So it is,&rdquo; rejoined Nicholas, &ldquo;and after him others
+      will come to advert other wares until belike a large part of our news
+      sheet,&mdash;who knows? the whole of it, perhaps, shall be made up in the
+      merry guise of advertisements.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Caxton sat silent in deep thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But Master Caxton&rdquo;&mdash;cried the voice of a young
+      apprentice, a mere child, as he seemed, with fair hair and blue eyes
+      filled with the native candour of unsullied youth,&mdash;&ldquo;is this
+      tale true!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What sayest thou, Warwick?&rdquo; said the master printer, almost
+      sternly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good master, is the tale of the wonderous balm true?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Boy,&rdquo; said Caxton, &ldquo;Master Nicholas, hath even said, we
+      know not if it is true.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But didst thou not charge us,&rdquo; pleaded the boy, &ldquo;that
+      all that went under our hand into the press should be truth and truth
+      alone?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did,&rdquo; said Caxton thoughtfully, &ldquo;but I spoke perhaps
+      somewhat in overhaste. I see that we must here distinguish. Whether this
+      is true or not we cannot tell. But it is PAID FOR, and that lifts it, as
+      who should say, out of the domain of truth. The very fact that it is paid
+      for giveth it, as it were, a new form of merit, a verity altogether its
+      own.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay, ay,&rdquo; said Nicholas, with a twinkle in his shrewd eyes,
+      &ldquo;entirely its own.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed so,&rdquo; said Caxton, &ldquo;and here let us make to
+      ourselves another and a final maxim of guidance. All things that any man
+      will pay for, these we will print, whether true or not, for that doth not
+      concern us. But if one cometh here with any strange tale of a remedy or
+      aught else and wishes us to make advertisement of it and hath no money to
+      pay for it, then shall he be cast forth out of this officina, or office,
+      if I may call it so, neck and crop into the street. Nay, I will have me
+      one of great strength ever at the door ready for such castings.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A murmur of approval went round the group.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Caxton would have spoken further but at the moment the sound of a bell was
+      heard booming in the street without.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Tis the Great Bell,&rdquo; said Caxton, &ldquo;ringing out
+      the hour of noon. Quick, all of you to your task. Lay me the forms on the
+      press and speed me the work. We start here a great adventure. Mark well
+      the maxims I have given you, and God speed our task.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And in another hour or so, the prentice boys of the master printer were
+      calling in the streets the sale of the first English newspaper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0032" id="link2H_4_0032"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XVII&mdash;IN THE GOOD TIME AFTER THE WAR
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      [Footnote: An extract from a London newspaper of 1916.]
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      HOUSE OF COMMONS REPORT
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      The Prime Minister in rising said that he thought the time had now come
+      when the House might properly turn its attention again to domestic
+      affairs. The foreign world was so tranquil that there was really nothing
+      of importance which need be brought to the attention of the House.
+      Members, however, would, perhaps, be glad to learn incidentally that a new
+      and more comfortable cage had been supplied for the ex-German Emperor, and
+      that the ex-Crown Prince was now showing distinct signs of intelligence,
+      and was even able to eat quite quietly out of his keeper&rsquo;s hand.
+      Members would be gratified to know that at last the Hohenzollern family
+      were able to abstain from snapping at the hand that fed them. But he would
+      now turn to the subject of Home Rule.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here the House was seen to yawn noticeably, and a general lack of interest
+      was visible, especially among the Nationalist and Ulster members. A number
+      of members were seen to rise as if about to move to the refreshment- room.
+      Mr. John Redmond and Sir Edward Carson were seen walking arm in arm
+      towards the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prime Minister. &ldquo;Will the members kindly keep their seats? We
+      are about to hold a discussion on Home Rule. Members will surely recall
+      that this form of discussion was one of our favourite exercises only a
+      year or so ago. I trust that members have not lost interest in the
+      subject.&rdquo; (General laughter among the members, and cries of &ldquo;Cut
+      it out!&rdquo; &ldquo;What is it?&rdquo;)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prime Minister (with some asperity). &ldquo;Members are well aware
+      what Home Rule meant. It was a plan&mdash;or rather it was a scheme&mdash;that
+      is to say, it was an act of parliament, or I should say a bill, in fact,
+      Mr. Speaker, I don&rsquo;t mind confessing that, not having my papers with
+      me, I am unable to inform the House just what Home Rule was. I think,
+      perhaps, the Ex-Minister of Munitions has a copy of last year&rsquo;s
+      bill.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Lloyd George rising, with evident signs of boredom. &ldquo;The House
+      will excuse me. I am tired. I have been out all day aeroplaning with Mr.
+      Churchill and Mr. Bonar Law, with a view to inspect the new national
+      training camp. I had the Home Rule Bill with me along with the Welsh
+      Disestablishment Bill and the Land Bill, and I am afraid that I lost the
+      whole bally lot of them; dropped them into the sea or something. I hope
+      the Speaker will overlook the term &lsquo;bally.&rsquo; It may not be
+      parliamentary.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Speaker (laughing). &ldquo;Tut, tut, never mind a little thing like
+      that. I am sure that after all that we have gone through together, the
+      House is quite agreed that a little thing like parliamentary procedure
+      doesn&rsquo;t matter.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Lloyd George (humbly). &ldquo;Still I am sorry for the term. I&rsquo;d
+      like to withdraw it. I separate or distinguish in any degree the men of
+      Ulster from the men of Tipperary, and the heart of Belfast from the heart
+      of Dublin.&rdquo; (Loud cheers.)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Redmond (springing forward). &ldquo;And I&rsquo;ll say this: Not I,
+      nor any man of Ireland, Dublin, Belfast, or Connaught will ever set our
+      hands or names to any bill that shall separate Ireland in any degree from
+      the rest of the Empire. Work out, if you like, a new scheme of government.
+      If the financial clauses are intricate, get one of your treasury clerks to
+      solve them. If there&rsquo;s trouble in arranging your excise on your
+      customs, settle it in any way you please. But it is too late now to
+      separate England and Ireland. We&rsquo;ve held the flag of the Empire in
+      our hand. We mean to hold it in our grasp forever. We have seen its
+      colours tinged a brighter red with the best of Ireland&rsquo;s blood, and
+      that proud stain shall stay forever as the symbol of the unity of Irish
+      and the English people.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      (Loud cheers ring through the House; several members rise in great
+      excitement, all shouting and speaking together.) There is heard the voice
+      of Mr. Angus McCluskey, Member for the Hebrides, calling&mdash;&ldquo;And
+      ye&rsquo;ll no forget Scotland, me lad, when you talk of unity! Do you
+      mind the Forty-Second, and the London Scottish in the trenches of the
+      Aisne? Wha carried the flag of the Empire then? Unity, ma friends, ye&rsquo;ll
+      never break it. It may involve a wee bit sacrifice for Scotland
+      financially speaking. I&rsquo;ll no say no to a reveesion of the monetairy
+      terms, if ye suggest it,&mdash;but for unita&mdash;Scotland and the
+      Empire, now and forever!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A great number of members have risen in their seats. Mr. Open Ap Owen
+      Glendower is calling: &ldquo;Aye and Wales! never forget Wales.&rdquo; Mr.
+      Trevelyan Trendinning of Cornwall has started singing &ldquo;And shall
+      Trelawney Die?&rdquo;&mdash;while the deep booming of &ldquo;Rule
+      Britannia&rdquo; from five hundred throats ascends to the very rafters of
+      the House.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Speaker laughing and calling for order, while two of the more elderly
+      clerks are beating with the mace on the table,&mdash;&ldquo;Gentlemen,
+      gentlemen, I have a proposal to make. I have just learned that there is at
+      the Alhambra in Leicester Square, a real fine moving picture show of the
+      entrance of the Allies into Berlin. Let&rsquo;s all go to it. We can leave
+      a committee of the three youngest members to stay behind and draw up a new
+      government for Ireland. Even they can&rsquo;t go wrong now as to what we
+      want.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Loud Cheers as the House empties, singing &ldquo;It was a Long Way to
+      Tipperary, but the way lay through Berlin.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOONBEAMS FROM THE LARGER LUNACY ***</div>
+  </body>
+</html>
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6b808b5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #4064 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/4064)
diff --git a/old/4064-h.zip b/old/4064-h.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..abbe6f7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/4064-h.zip
diff --git a/old/4064-h/4064-h.htm b/old/4064-h/4064-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..23d328c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/4064-h/4064-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,6843 @@
+<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?>
+
+<!DOCTYPE html
+   PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+   "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" >
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <title>Moonbeams From The Larger Lunacy, by Leacock</title>
+    <meta content="pg2html (binary v0.17)" />
+    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+    body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify}
+    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .75em; margin-bottom: .75em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; text-align: justify; font-size: 80%; font-style: italic;}
+    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
+    .xx-small {font-size: 60%;}
+    .x-small {font-size: 75%;}
+    .small {font-size: 85%;}
+    .large {font-size: 115%;}
+    .x-large {font-size: 130%;}
+    .indent5   { margin-left: 5%;}
+    .indent10  { margin-left: 10%;}
+    .indent15  { margin-left: 15%;}
+    .indent20  { margin-left: 20%;}
+    .indent25  { margin-left: 25%;}
+    .indent30  { margin-left: 30%;}
+    .indent35  { margin-left: 35%;}
+    .indent40  { margin-left: 40%;}
+    div.fig    { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+    div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; }
+    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+    .pagenum   {position: absolute; right: 1%; font-size: 0.6em;
+                font-variant: normal; font-style: normal;
+                text-align: right; background-color: #FFFACD;
+                border: 1px solid; padding: 0.3em;text-indent: 0em;}
+    .side      { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 15%; padding-left: 0.8em;
+               border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left;
+               text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;
+               font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border:        solid 1px;}
+    .head      { float: left; font-size: 90%; width: 98%; padding-left: 0.8em;
+               border-left: dashed thin; text-align: center;
+               text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;
+               font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border:        solid 1px;}
+    p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0}
+    span.dropcap         { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 0.8 }
+    pre        { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+</style>
+  </head>
+  <body>
+  <pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's Moonbeams From the Larger Lunacy by Stephen Leacock
+#4 in our series by Stephen Leacock.
+
+Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check
+the laws for your country before redistributing these files!!!
+
+Please take a look at the important information in this header.
+We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an
+electronic path open for the next readers.
+
+Please do not remove this.
+
+This should be the first thing seen when anyone opens the book.
+Do not change or edit it without written permission.  The words
+are carefully chosen to provide users with the information they
+need about what they can legally do with the texts.
+
+
+**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
+
+**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
+
+*****These Etexts Are Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
+
+Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and
+further information is included below, including for donations.
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a 501(c)(3)
+organization with EIN [Employee Identification Number] 64-6221541
+
+
+
+Title: Moonbeams From the Larger Lunacy
+
+Author: Stephen Leacock
+
+Release Date: May, 2003  [Etext #4064]
+[Yes, we are about one year ahead of schedule]
+[The actual date this file first posted = 10/30/01]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Project Gutenberg's Moonbeams From the Larger Lunacy by Stephen Leacock
+**********This file should be named 4064.txt or 4064.zip*********
+
+This etext was produced by Gardner Buchanan with help from the
+distributed proofers at http://charlz.dynip.com/gutenberg
+
+
+Project Gutenberg Etexts are usually created from multiple editions,
+all of which are in the Public Domain in the United States, unless a
+copyright notice is included.  Therefore, we usually do NOT keep any
+of these books in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+We are now trying to release all our books one year in advance
+of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing.
+Please be encouraged to send us error messages even years after
+the official publication date.
+
+Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til
+midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.
+The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at
+Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month.  A
+preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment
+and editing by those who wish to do so.
+
+Most people start at our sites at:
+https://gutenberg.org
+http://promo.net/pg
+
+
+Those of you who want to download any Etext before announcement
+can surf to them as follows, and just download by date; this is
+also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the
+indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an
+announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter.
+
+http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext03
+or
+ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext03
+
+Or /etext02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90
+
+Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want,
+as it appears in our Newsletters.
+
+
+Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)
+
+We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work.  The
+time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours
+to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright
+searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc.  This
+projected audience is one hundred million readers.  If our value
+per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2
+million dollars per hour this year as we release fifty new Etext
+files per month, or 500 more Etexts in 2000 for a total of 3000+
+If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total
+should reach over 300 billion Etexts given away by year's end.
+
+The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext
+Files by December 31, 2001.  [10,000 x 100,000,000 = 1 Trillion]
+This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers,
+which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users.
+
+At our revised rates of production, we will reach only one-third
+of that goal by the end of 2001, or about 4,000 Etexts unless we
+manage to get some real funding.
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created
+to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+As of July 12, 2001 contributions are only being solicited from people in:
+Arkansas, Colorado, Connecticut, Delaware, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Idaho,
+Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, Minnesota,
+Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, New Mexico, Nevada, New Jersey, New York, North
+Carolina, Ohio, Oklahoma, Oregon, Rhode Island, South Carolina*, South Dakota,
+Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West Virginia,
+Wisconsin, and Wyoming.
+
+*In Progress
+
+We have filed in about 45 states now, but these are the only ones
+that have responded.
+
+As the requirements for other states are met,
+additions to this list will be made and fund raising
+will begin in the additional states.  Please feel
+free to ask to check the status of your state.
+
+In answer to various questions we have received on this:
+
+We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork
+to legally request donations in all 50 states.  If
+your state is not listed and you would like to know
+if we have added it since the list you have, just ask.
+
+While we cannot solicit donations from people in
+states where we are not yet registered, we know
+of no prohibition against accepting donations
+from donors in these states who approach us with
+an offer to donate.
+
+
+International donations are accepted,
+but we don't know ANYTHING about how
+to make them tax-deductible, or
+even if they CAN be made deductible,
+and don't have the staff to handle it
+even if there are ways.
+
+All donations should be made to:
+
+Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+PMB 113
+1739 University Ave.
+Oxford, MS 38655-4109
+
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a 501(c)(3)
+organization with EIN [Employee Identification Number] 64-6221541,
+and has been approved as a 501(c)(3) organization by the US Internal
+Revenue Service (IRS).  Donations are tax-deductible to the maximum
+extent permitted by law.  As the requirements for other states are met,
+additions to this list will be made and fund raising will begin in the
+additional states.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+You can get up to date donation information at:
+
+https://www.gutenberg.org/donation.html
+
+
+***
+
+If you can't reach Project Gutenberg,
+you can always email directly to:
+
+Michael S. Hart
+
+
+Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message.
+
+We would prefer to send you information by email.
+
+
+***
+
+
+Example command-line FTP session:
+
+ftp ftp.ibiblio.org
+login: anonymous
+password: your@login
+cd pub/docs/books/gutenberg
+cd etext90 through etext99 or etext00 through etext02, etc.
+dir [to see files]
+get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files]
+GET GUTINDEX.??  [to get a year's listing of books, e.g., GUTINDEX.99]
+GET GUTINDEX.ALL [to get a listing of ALL books]
+
+
+**The Legal Small Print**
+
+
+(Three Pages)
+
+***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START***
+Why is this "Small Print!" statement here?  You know: lawyers.
+They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with
+your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from
+someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our
+fault.  So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement
+disclaims most of our liability to you.  It also tells you how
+you may distribute copies of this etext if you want to.
+
+*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT
+By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
+etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept
+this "Small Print!" statement.  If you do not, you can receive
+a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by
+sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person
+you got it from.  If you received this etext on a physical
+medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request.
+
+ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS
+This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etexts,
+is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart
+through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project").
+Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright
+on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and
+distribute it in the United States without permission and
+without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules, set forth
+below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext
+under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.
+
+Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market
+any commercial products without permission.
+
+To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable
+efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain
+works.  Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any
+medium they may be on may contain "Defects".  Among other
+things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
+intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged
+disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer
+codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.
+
+LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES
+But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below,
+[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may
+receive this etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims
+all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including
+legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR
+UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT,
+INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE
+OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE
+POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES.
+
+If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of
+receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any)
+you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that
+time to the person you received it from.  If you received it
+on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and
+such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement
+copy.  If you received it electronically, such person may
+choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to
+receive it electronically.
+
+THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS".  NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS
+TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT
+LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A
+PARTICULAR PURPOSE.
+
+Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or
+the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the
+above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you
+may have other legal rights.
+
+INDEMNITY
+You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation,
+and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated
+with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
+texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including
+legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the
+following that you do or cause:  [1] distribution of this etext,
+[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the etext,
+or [3] any Defect.
+
+DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm"
+You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by
+disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this
+"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg,
+or:
+
+[1]  Only give exact copies of it.  Among other things, this
+     requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the
+     etext or this "small print!" statement.  You may however,
+     if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable
+     binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form,
+     including any form resulting from conversion by word
+     processing or hypertext software, but only so long as
+     *EITHER*:
+
+     [*]  The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and
+          does *not* contain characters other than those
+          intended by the author of the work, although tilde
+          (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may
+          be used to convey punctuation intended by the
+          author, and additional characters may be used to
+          indicate hypertext links; OR
+
+     [*]  The etext may be readily converted by the reader at
+          no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent
+          form by the program that displays the etext (as is
+          the case, for instance, with most word processors);
+          OR
+
+     [*]  You provide, or agree to also provide on request at
+          no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the
+          etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC
+          or other equivalent proprietary form).
+
+[2]  Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this
+     "Small Print!" statement.
+
+[3]  Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the
+     gross profits you derive calculated using the method you
+     already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  If you
+     don't derive profits, no royalty is due.  Royalties are
+     payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation"
+     the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were
+     legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent
+     periodic) tax return.  Please contact us beforehand to
+     let us know your plans and to work out the details.
+
+WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
+Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of
+public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed
+in machine readable form.
+
+The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time,
+public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses.
+Money should be paid to the:
+"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or
+software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at:
+hart@pobox.com
+
+[Portions of this header are copyright (C) 2001 by Michael S. Hart
+and may be reprinted only when these Etexts are free of all fees.]
+[Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be used in any sales
+of Project Gutenberg Etexts or other materials be they hardware or
+software or any other related product without express permission.]
+
+*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.10/04/01*END*
+
+
+
+This etext was produced by Gardner Buchanan with help from the
+Distributed Proofers
+
+
+</pre>
+
+    <div style="height: 8em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h1>
+      MOONBEAMS FROM THE LARGER LUNACY
+    </h1>
+    <h2>
+      By Stephen Leacock
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>CONTENTS</b>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_PREF"> PREFACE </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I.&mdash;SPOOF. A Thousand-Guinea Novel. New!
+      Fascinating! Perplexing! </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> II.&mdash;THE READING PUBLIC. A BOOK STORE STUDY
+      </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> III.&mdash;AFTERNOON ADVENTURES AT MY CLUB </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> 1.&mdash;The Anecdotes of Dr. So and So </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> 2.&mdash;The Shattered Health of Mr. Podge </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> 3.&mdash;The Amazing Travels of Mr. Yarner </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> 4.&mdash;The Spiritual Outlook of Mr. Doomer
+      </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> 5.&mdash;The Reminiscences of Mr. Apricot </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> 6.&mdash;The Last Man out of Europe </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> 7.&mdash;The War Mania of Mr. Jinks and Mr.
+      Blinks </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> 8.&mdash;The Ground Floor </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> 9.&mdash;The Hallucination of Mr. Butt </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> IV-RAM SPUDD THE NEW WORLD SINGER. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> V.&mdash;ARISTOCRATIC ANECDOTES OR LITTLE
+      STORIES OF GREAT </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> VI.&mdash;EDUCATION MADE AGREEABLE OR THE
+      DIVERSIONS OF A </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> VII.&mdash;AN EVERY-DAY EXPERIENCE </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> VIII&mdash;TRUTHFUL ORATORY </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> IX.&mdash;OUR LITERARY BUREAU </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> X.&mdash;SPEEDING UP BUSINESS </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> XI.&mdash;WHO IS ALSO WHO </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0027"> XII.&mdash;PASSIONATE PARAGRAPHS </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0028"> XIII.&mdash;WEEJEE THE PET DOG </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0029"> XIV.&mdash;SIDELIGHTS ON THE SUPERMEN </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0030"> XV.&mdash;THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0031"> XVI&mdash;THE FIRST NEWSPAPER </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0032"> XVII&mdash;IN THE GOOD TIME AFTER THE WAR </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      PREFACE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The prudent husbandman, after having taken from his field all the straw
+      that is there, rakes it over with a wooden rake and gets as much again.
+      The wise child, after the lemonade jug is empty, takes the lemons from the
+      bottom of it and squeezes them into a still larger brew. So does the
+      sagacious author, after having sold his material to the magazines and been
+      paid for it, clap it into book-covers and give it another squeeze. But in
+      the present case the author is of a nice conscience and anxious to place
+      responsibility where it is due. He therefore wishes to make all proper
+      acknowledgments to the editors of Vanity Fair, The American Magazine, The
+      Popular Magazine, Life, Puck, The Century, Methuen&rsquo;s Annual, and all
+      others who are in any way implicated in the making of this book.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      STEPHEN LEACOCK.
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      McGill University, Montreal. Oct. 1, 1915.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_TOC" id="link2H_TOC"> </a> <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      I.&mdash;SPOOF. A Thousand-Guinea Novel. New! Fascinating! Perplexing!
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER I
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Readers are requested to note that this novel has taken our special prize
+      of a cheque for a thousand guineas. This alone guarantees for all
+      intelligent readers a palpitating interest in every line of it. Among the
+      thousands of MSS. which reached us&mdash;many of them coming in carts
+      early in the morning, and moving in a dense phalanx, indistinguishable
+      from the Covent Garden Market waggons; others pouring down our coal-chute
+      during the working hours of the day; and others again being slipped
+      surreptitiously into our letter-box by pale, timid girls, scarcely more
+      than children, after nightfall (in fact many of them came in their
+      night-gowns),&mdash;this manuscript alone was the sole one&mdash;in fact
+      the only one&mdash;to receive the prize of a cheque of a thousand guineas.
+      To other competitors we may have given, inadvertently perhaps, a bag of
+      sovereigns or a string of pearls, but to this story alone is awarded the
+      first prize by the unanimous decision of our judges.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When we say that the latter body included two members of the Cabinet, two
+      Lords of the Admiralty, and two bishops, with power in case of dispute to
+      send all the MSS. to the Czar of Russia, our readers will breathe a sigh
+      of relief to learn that the decision was instant and unanimous. Each one
+      of them, in reply to our telegram, answered immediately SPOOF.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This novel represents the last word in up-to-date fiction. It is well
+      known that the modern novel has got far beyond the point of mere
+      story-telling. The childish attempt to INTEREST the reader has long since
+      been abandoned by all the best writers. They refuse to do it. The modern
+      novel must convey a message, or else it must paint a picture, or remove a
+      veil, or open a new chapter in human psychology. Otherwise it is no good.
+      SPOOF does all of these things. The reader rises from its perusal
+      perplexed, troubled, and yet so filled with information that rising itself
+      is a difficulty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We cannot, for obvious reasons, insert the whole of the first chapter. But
+      the portion here presented was praised by The Saturday Afternoon Review as
+      giving one of the most graphic and at the same time realistic pictures of
+      America ever written in fiction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Of the characters whom our readers are to imagine seated on the deck&mdash;on
+      one of the many decks (all connected by elevators)&mdash;of the
+      Gloritania, one word may be said. Vere de Lancy is (as the reviewers have
+      under oath declared) a typical young Englishman of the upper class. He is
+      nephew to the Duke of&mdash;, but of this fact no one on the ship, except
+      the captain, the purser, the steward, and the passengers are, or is,
+      aware.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In order entirely to conceal his identity, Vere de Lancy is travelling
+      under the assumed name of Lancy de Vere. In order the better to hide the
+      object of his journey, Lancy de Vere (as we shall now call him, though our
+      readers will be able at any moment to turn his name backwards) has given
+      it to be understood that he is travelling merely as a gentleman anxious to
+      see America. This naturally baffles all those in contact with him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The girl at his side&mdash;but perhaps we may best let her speak for
+      herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Somehow as they sat together on the deck of the great steamer in the
+      afterglow of the sunken sun, listening to the throbbing of the propeller
+      (a rare sound which neither of them of course had ever heard before), de
+      Vere felt that he must speak to her. Something of the mystery of the girl
+      fascinated him. What was she doing here alone with no one but her mother
+      and her maid, on the bosom of the Atlantic? Why was she here? Why was she
+      not somewhere else? The thing puzzled, perplexed him. It would not let him
+      alone. It fastened upon his brain. Somehow he felt that if he tried to
+      drive it away, it might nip him in the ankle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the end he spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you, too,&rdquo; he said, leaning over her deck-chair, &ldquo;are
+      going to America?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had suspected this ever since the boat left Liverpool. Now at length he
+      framed his growing conviction into words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she assented, and then timidly, &ldquo;it is 3,213
+      miles wide, is it not?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and 1,781 miles deep! It reaches from
+      the forty-ninth parallel to the Gulf of Mexico.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; cried the girl, &ldquo;what a vivid picture! I seem to
+      see it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Its major axis,&rdquo; he went on, his voice sinking almost to a
+      caress, &ldquo;is formed by the Rocky Mountains, which are practically a
+      prolongation of the Cordilleran Range. It is drained,&rdquo; he continued&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How splendid!&rdquo; said the girl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, is it not? It is drained by the Mississippi, by the St.
+      Lawrence, and&mdash;dare I say it?&mdash;by the Upper Colorado.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Somehow his hand had found hers in the half gloaming, but she did not
+      check him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go on,&rdquo; she said very simply; &ldquo;I think I ought to hear
+      it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The great central plain of the interior,&rdquo; he continued,
+      &ldquo;is formed by a vast alluvial deposit carried down as silt by the
+      Mississippi. East of this the range of the Alleghanies, nowhere more than
+      eight thousand feet in height, forms a secondary or subordinate axis from
+      which the watershed falls to the Atlantic.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was speaking very quietly but earnestly. No man had ever spoken to her
+      like this before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a wonderful picture!&rdquo; she murmured half to herself, half
+      aloud, and half not aloud and half not to herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Through the whole of it,&rdquo; de Vere went on, &ldquo;there run
+      railways, most of them from east to west, though a few run from west to
+      east. The Pennsylvania system alone has twenty-one thousand miles of
+      track.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Twenty-one thousand miles,&rdquo; she repeated; already she felt
+      her will strangely subordinate to his.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was holding her hand firmly clasped in his and looking into her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dare I tell you,&rdquo; he whispered, &ldquo;how many employees it
+      has?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she gasped, unable to resist.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A hundred and fourteen thousand,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was silence. They were both thinking. Presently she spoke, timidly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are there any cities there?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cities!&rdquo; he said enthusiastically, &ldquo;ah, yes! let me try
+      to give you a word-picture of them. Vast cities&mdash;with tall buildings,
+      reaching to the very sky. Why, for instance, the new Woolworth Building in
+      New York&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes,&rdquo; she broke in quickly, &ldquo;how high is it?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Seven hundred and fifty feet.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The girl turned and faced him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t bear it. Some
+      other time, perhaps, but not now.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She had risen and was gathering up her wraps. &ldquo;And you,&rdquo; she
+      said, &ldquo;why are you going to America?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;Because I want to see, to know, to
+      learn. And when I have learned and seen and known, I want other people to
+      see and to learn and to know. I want to write it all down, all the vast
+      palpitating picture of it. Ah! if I only could&mdash;I want to see&rdquo;
+      (and here he passed his hand through his hair as if trying to remember)
+      &ldquo;something of the relations of labour and capital, of the
+      extraordinary development of industrial machinery, of the new and
+      intricate organisation of corporation finance, and in particular I want to
+      try to analyse&mdash;no one has ever done it yet&mdash;the men who guide
+      and drive it all. I want to set down the psychology of the
+      multimillionaire!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He paused. The girl stood irresolute. She was thinking (apparently, for if
+      not, why stand there?).
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; she faltered, &ldquo;I could help you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I might.&rdquo; She hesitated. &ldquo;I&mdash;I&mdash;come
+      from America.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You!&rdquo; said de Vere in astonishment. &ldquo;With a face and
+      voice like yours! It is impossible!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The boldness of the compliment held her speechless for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;my people lived just outside of
+      Cohoes.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They couldn&rsquo;t have,&rdquo; he said passionately.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shouldn&rsquo;t speak to you like this,&rdquo; the girl went on,
+      &ldquo;but it&rsquo;s because I feel from what you have said that you know
+      and love America. And I think I can help you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean,&rdquo; he said, divining her idea, &ldquo;that you can
+      help me to meet a multimillionaire?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she answered, still hesitating.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know one?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; still hesitating, &ldquo;I know ONE.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She seemed about to say more, her lips had already opened, when suddenly
+      the dull raucous blast of the foghorn (they used a raucous one on this
+      ship on purpose) cut the night air. Wet fog rolled in about them, wetting
+      everything.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The girl shivered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must go,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;good night.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment de Vere was about to detain her. The wild thought leaped to
+      his mind to ask her her name or at least her mother&rsquo;s. With a
+      powerful effort he checked himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good night,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was gone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER II
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Limits of space forbid the insertion of the whole of this chapter. Its
+      opening contains one of the most vivid word-pictures of the inside of an
+      American customs house ever pictured in words. From the customs wharf de
+      Vere is driven in a taxi to the Belmont. Here he engages a room; here,
+      too, he sleeps; here also, though cautiously at first, he eats. All this
+      is so admirably described that only those who have driven in a taxi to an
+      hotel and slept there can hope to appreciate it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Limits of space also forbid our describing in full de Vere&rsquo;s vain
+      quest in New York of the beautiful creature whom he had met on the steamer
+      and whom he had lost from sight in the aigrette department of the customs
+      house. A thousand times he cursed his folly in not having asked her name.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meanwhile no word comes from her, till suddenly, mysteriously,
+      unexpectedly, on the fourth day a note is handed to de Vere by the Third
+      Assistant Head Waiter of the Belmont. It is addressed in a lady&rsquo;s
+      hand. He tears it open. It contains only the written words, &ldquo;Call on
+      Mr. J. Superman Overgold. He is a multimillionaire. He expects you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To leap into a taxi (from the third story of the Belmont) was the work of
+      a moment. To drive to the office of Mr. Overgold was less. The portion of
+      the novel which follows is perhaps the most notable part of it. It is this
+      part of the chapter which the Hibbert Journal declares to be the best
+      piece of psychological analysis that appears in any novel of the season.
+      We reproduce it here.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly, exactly,&rdquo; said de Vere, writing rapidly in his
+      note-book as he sat in one of the deep leather armchairs of the luxurious
+      office of Mr. Overgold. &ldquo;So you sometimes feel as if the whole thing
+      were not worth while.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do,&rdquo; said Mr. Overgold. &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t help asking
+      myself what it all means. Is life, after all, merely a series of
+      immaterial phenomena, self-developing and based solely on sensation and
+      reaction, or is it something else?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He paused for a moment to sign a cheque for $10,000 and throw it out of
+      the window, and then went on, speaking still with the terse brevity of a
+      man of business.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is sensation everywhere or is there perception too? On what
+      grounds, if any, may the hypothesis of a self-explanatory consciousness be
+      rejected? In how far are we warranted in supposing that innate ideas are
+      inconsistent with pure materialism?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      De Vere listened, fascinated. Fortunately for himself, he was a University
+      man, fresh from the examination halls of his Alma Mater. He was able to
+      respond at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think,&rdquo; he said modestly, &ldquo;I grasp your thought. You
+      mean&mdash;to what extent are we prepared to endorse Hegel&rsquo;s dictum
+      of immaterial evolution?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly,&rdquo; said Mr. Overgold. &ldquo;How far, if at all, do we
+      substantiate the Kantian hypothesis of the transcendental?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Precisely,&rdquo; said de Vere eagerly. &ldquo;And for what reasons
+      [naming them] must we reject Spencer&rsquo;s theory of the unknowable?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Entirely so,&rdquo; continued Mr. Overgold. &ldquo;And why, if at
+      all, does Bergsonian illusionism differ from pure nothingness?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They both paused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Overgold had risen. There was great weariness in his manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It saddens one, does it not?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had picked up a bundle of Panama two per cent. gold bonds and was
+      looking at them in contempt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The emptiness of it all!&rdquo; he muttered. He extended the bonds
+      to de Vere.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you want them,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;or shall I throw them
+      away?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give them to me,&rdquo; said de Vere quietly; &ldquo;they are not
+      worth the throwing.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; said Mr. Overgold, speaking half to himself, as he
+      replaced the bonds in his desk. &ldquo;It is a burden that I must carry
+      alone. I have no right to ask any one to share it. But come,&rdquo; he
+      continued, &ldquo;I fear I am sadly lacking in the duties of international
+      hospitality. I am forgetting what I owe to Anglo-American courtesy. I am
+      neglecting the new obligations of our common Indo-Chinese policy. My motor
+      is at the door. Pray let me take you to my house to lunch.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      De Vere assented readily, telephoned to the Belmont not to keep lunch
+      waiting for him, and in a moment was speeding up the magnificent Riverside
+      Drive towards Mr. Overgold&rsquo;s home. On the way Mr. Overgold pointed
+      out various objects of interest,&mdash;Grant&rsquo;s tomb, Lincoln&rsquo;s
+      tomb, Edgar Allan Poe&rsquo;s grave, the ticket office of the New York
+      Subway, and various other points of historic importance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On arriving at the house, de Vere was ushered up a flight of broad marble
+      steps to a hall fitted on every side with almost priceless objets d&rsquo;art
+      and others, ushered to the cloak-room and out of it, butlered into the
+      lunch-room and footmanned to a chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As they entered, a lady already seated at the table turned to meet them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One glance was enough&mdash;plenty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was she&mdash;the object of de Vere&rsquo;s impassioned quest. A rich
+      lunch-gown was girdled about her with a twelve-o&rsquo;clock band of
+      pearls.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She reached out her hand, smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dorothea,&rdquo; said the multimillionaire, &ldquo;this is Mr. de
+      Vere. Mr. de Vere&mdash;my wife.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER III
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Of this next chapter we need only say that the Blue Review (Adults Only)
+      declares it to be the most daring and yet conscientious handling of the
+      sex-problem ever attempted and done. The fact that the Congregational
+      Times declares that this chapter will undermine the whole foundations of
+      English Society and let it fall, we pass over: we hold certificates in
+      writing from a great number of the Anglican clergy, to the effect that
+      they have carefully read the entire novel and see nothing in it.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      . . . . . . .
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      They stood looking at one another.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you didn&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; she murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In a flash de Vere realised that she hadn&rsquo;t known that he didn&rsquo;t
+      know and knew now that he knew.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He found no words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The situation was a tense one. Nothing but the woman&rsquo;s innate tact
+      could save it. Dorothea Overgold rose to it with the dignity of a queen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned to her husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take your soup over to the window,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and eat
+      it there.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The millionaire took his soup to the window and sat beneath a little palm
+      tree, eating it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You didn&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; she repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said de Vere; &ldquo;how could I?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And yet,&rdquo; she went on, &ldquo;you loved me, although you didn&rsquo;t
+      know that I was married?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered de Vere simply. &ldquo;I loved you, in spite
+      of it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How splendid!&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a moment&rsquo;s silence. Mr. Overgold had returned to the
+      table, the empty plate in his hand. His wife turned to him again with the
+      same unfailing tact.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take your asparagus to the billiard-room,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and
+      eat it there.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does he know, too?&rdquo; asked de Vere.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Overgold?&rdquo; she said carelessly. &ldquo;I suppose he does.
+      Eh apres, mon ami?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      French? Another mystery! Where and how had she learned it? de Vere asked
+      himself. Not in France, certainly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fear that you are very young, amico mio,&rdquo; Dorothea went on
+      carelessly. &ldquo;After all, what is there wrong in it, piccolo pochito?
+      To a man&rsquo;s mind perhaps&mdash;but to a woman, love is love.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She beckoned to the butler.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take Mr. Overgold a cutlet to the music-room,&rdquo; she said,
+      &ldquo;and give him his gorgonzola on the inkstand in the library.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And now,&rdquo; she went on, in that caressing way which seemed so
+      natural to her, &ldquo;don&rsquo;t let us think about it any more! After
+      all, what is is, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose it is,&rdquo; said de Vere, half convinced in spite of
+      himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Or at any rate,&rdquo; said Dorothea, &ldquo;nothing can at the
+      same time both be and not be. But come,&rdquo; she broke off, gaily
+      dipping a macaroon in a glass of creme de menthe and offering it to him
+      with a pretty gesture of camaraderie, &ldquo;don&rsquo;t let&rsquo;s be
+      gloomy any more. I want to take you with me to the matinee.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is he coming?&rdquo; asked de Vere, pointing at Mr. Overgold&rsquo;s
+      empty chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Silly boy,&rdquo; laughed Dorothea. &ldquo;Of course John is
+      coming. You surely don&rsquo;t want to buy the tickets yourself.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      . . . . . . .
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      The days that followed brought a strange new life to de Vere.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothea was ever at his side. At the theatre, at the polo ground, in the
+      park, everywhere they were together. And with them was Mr. Overgold.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The three were always together. At times at the theatre Dorothea and de
+      Vere would sit downstairs and Mr. Overgold in the gallery; at other times,
+      de Vere and Mr. Overgold would sit in the gallery and Dorothea downstairs;
+      at times one of them would sit in Row A, another in Row B, and a third in
+      Row C; at other times two would sit in Row B and one in Row C; at the
+      opera, at times, one of the three would sit listening, the others talking,
+      at other times two listening and one talking, and at other times three
+      talking and none listening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus the three formed together one of the most perplexing, maddening
+      triangles that ever disturbed the society of the metropolis.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      . . . . . . .
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      The denouement was bound to come.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It came.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was late at night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      De Vere was standing beside Dorothea in the brilliantly lighted hall of
+      the Grand Palaver Hotel, where they had had supper. Mr. Overgold was busy
+      for a moment at the cashier&rsquo;s desk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dorothea,&rdquo; de Vere whispered passionately, &ldquo;I want to
+      take you away, away from all this. I want you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned and looked him full in the face. Then she put her hand in his,
+      smiling bravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will come,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen,&rdquo; he went on, &ldquo;the Gloritania sails for England
+      to-morrow at midnight. I have everything ready. Will you come?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;I will&rdquo;; and then
+      passionately, &ldquo;Dearest, I will follow you to England, to Liverpool,
+      to the end of the earth.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She paused in thought a moment and then added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come to the house just before midnight. William, the second
+      chauffeur (he is devoted to me), shall be at the door with the third car.
+      The fourth footman will bring my things&mdash;I can rely on him; the fifth
+      housemaid can have them all ready&mdash;she would never betray me. I will
+      have the undergardener&mdash;the sixth&mdash;waiting at the iron gate to
+      let you in; he would die rather than fail me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She paused again&mdash;then she went on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is only one thing, dearest, that I want to ask. It is not
+      much. I hardly think you would refuse it at such an hour. May I bring my
+      husband with me?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      De Vere&rsquo;s face blanched.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Must you?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think I must,&rdquo; said Dorothea. &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t know
+      how I&rsquo;ve grown to value, to lean upon, him. At times I have felt as
+      if I always wanted him to be near me; I like to feel wherever I am&mdash;at
+      the play, at a restaurant, anywhere &mdash;that I can reach out and touch
+      him. I know,&rdquo; she continued, &ldquo;that it&rsquo;s only a wild
+      fancy and that others would laugh at it, but you can understand, can you
+      not&mdash;carino caruso mio? And think, darling, in our new life, how busy
+      he, too, will be&mdash;making money for all of us&mdash;in a new money
+      market. It&rsquo;s just wonderful how he does it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A great light of renunciation lit up de Vere&rsquo;s face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bring him,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I knew that you would say that,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;and
+      listen, pochito pocket-edition, may I ask one thing more, one weeny thing?
+      William, the second chauffeur&mdash;I think he would fade away if I were
+      gone&mdash;may I bring him, too? Yes! O my darling, how can I repay you?
+      And the second footman, and the third housemaid&mdash;if I were gone I
+      fear that none of&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bring them all,&rdquo; said de Vere half bitterly; &ldquo;we will
+      all elope together.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And as he spoke Mr. Overgold sauntered over from the cashier&rsquo;s desk,
+      his open purse still in his hand, and joined them. There was a dreamy look
+      upon his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder,&rdquo; he murmured, &ldquo;whether personality survives
+      or whether it, too, when up against the irresistible, dissolves and
+      resolves itself into a series of negative reactions?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      De Vere&rsquo;s empty heart echoed the words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then they passed out and the night swallowed them up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      At a little before midnight on the next night, two motors filled with
+      muffled human beings might have been perceived, or seen, moving
+      noiselessly from Riverside Drive to the steamer wharf where lay the
+      Gloritania.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A night of intense darkness enveloped the Hudson. Outside the inside of
+      the dockside a dense fog wrapped the Statue of Liberty. Beside the steamer
+      customs officers and deportation officials moved silently to and fro in
+      long black cloaks, carrying little deportation lanterns in their hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To these Mr. Overgold presented in silence his deportation certificates,
+      granting his party permission to leave the United States under the
+      imbecility clause of the Interstate Commerce Act.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No objection was raised.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A few moments later the huge steamer was slipping away in the darkness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On its deck a little group of people, standing beside a pile of
+      first-class cabin luggage, directed a last sad look through their heavy
+      black disguise at the rapidly vanishing shore which they could not see.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      De Vere, who stood in the midst of them, clasping their hands, thus stood
+      and gazed his last at America.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Spoof!&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      (We admit that this final panorama, weird in its midnight mystery, and
+      filling the mind of the reader with a sense of something like awe, is only
+      appended to Spoof in order to coax him to read our forthcoming sequel,
+      Spiff!)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      II.&mdash;THE READING PUBLIC. A BOOK STORE STUDY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wish to look about the store? Oh, oh, by all means, sir,&rdquo; he
+      said. Then as he rubbed his hands together in an urbane fashion he
+      directed a piercing glance at me through his spectacles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;ll find some things that might interest you,&rdquo; he
+      said, &ldquo;in the back of the store on the left. We have there a series
+      of reprints&mdash;Universal Knowledge from Aristotle to Arthur Balfour&mdash;at
+      seventeen cents. Or perhaps you might like to look over the Pantheon of
+      Dead Authors at ten cents. Mr. Sparrow,&rdquo; he called, &ldquo;just show
+      this gentleman our classical reprints&mdash;the ten-cent series.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With that he waved his hand to an assistant and dismissed me from his
+      thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In other words, he had divined me in a moment. There was no use in my
+      having bought a sage-green fedora in Broadway, and a sporting tie done up
+      crosswise with spots as big as nickels. These little adornments can never
+      hide the soul within. I was a professor, and he knew it, or at least, as
+      part of his business, he could divine it on the instant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sales manager of the biggest book store for ten blocks cannot be
+      deceived in a customer. And he knew, of course, that, as a professor, I
+      was no good. I had come to the store, as all professors go to book stores,
+      just as a wasp comes to an open jar of marmalade. He knew that I would
+      hang around for two hours, get in everybody&rsquo;s way, and finally buy a
+      cheap reprint of the Dialogues of Plato, or the Prose Works of John
+      Milton, or Locke on the Human Understanding, or some trash of that sort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As for real taste in literature&mdash;the ability to appreciate at its
+      worth a dollar-fifty novel of last month, in a spring jacket with a tango
+      frontispiece&mdash;I hadn&rsquo;t got it and he knew it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He despised me, of course. But it is a maxim of the book business that a
+      professor standing up in a corner buried in a book looks well in a store.
+      The real customers like it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So it was that even so up-to-date a manager as Mr. Sellyer tolerated my
+      presence in a back corner of his store: and so it was that I had an
+      opportunity of noting something of his methods with his real customers&mdash;methods
+      so successful, I may say, that he is rightly looked upon by all the
+      publishing business as one of the mainstays of literature in America.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I had no intention of standing in the place and listening as a spy. In
+      fact, to tell the truth, I had become immediately interested in a new
+      translation of the Moral Discourses of Epictetus. The book was very neatly
+      printed, quite well bound and was offered at eighteen cents; so that for
+      the moment I was strongly tempted to buy it, though it seemed best to take
+      a dip into it first.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I had hardly read more than the first three chapters when my attention was
+      diverted by a conversation going on in the front of the store.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;re quite sure it&rsquo;s his LATEST?&rdquo; a fashionably
+      dressed lady was saying to Mr. Sellyer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, Mrs. Rasselyer,&rdquo; answered the manager. &ldquo;I
+      assure you this is his very latest. In fact, they only came in yesterday.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As he spoke, he indicated with his hand a huge pile of books, gayly
+      jacketed in white and blue. I could make out the title in big gilt
+      lettering&mdash;GOLDEN DREAMS.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; repeated Mr. Sellyer. &ldquo;This is Mr. Slush&rsquo;s
+      latest book. It&rsquo;s having a wonderful sale.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s all right, then,&rdquo; said the lady. &ldquo;You see,
+      one sometimes gets taken in so: I came in here last week and took two that
+      seemed very nice, and I never noticed till I got home that they were both
+      old books, published, I think, six months ago.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, dear me, Mrs. Rasselyer,&rdquo; said the manager in an
+      apologetic tone, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m extremely sorry. Pray let us send for
+      them and exchange them for you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, it does not matter,&rdquo; said the lady; &ldquo;of course I
+      didn&rsquo;t read them. I gave them to my maid. She probably wouldn&rsquo;t
+      know the difference, anyway.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose not,&rdquo; said Mr. Sellyer, with a condescending smile.
+      &ldquo;But of course, madam,&rdquo; he went on, falling into the easy chat
+      of the fashionable bookman, &ldquo;such mistakes are bound to happen
+      sometimes. We had a very painful case only yesterday. One of our oldest
+      customers came in in a great hurry to buy books to take on the steamer,
+      and before we realised what he had done&mdash;selecting the books I
+      suppose merely by the titles, as some gentlemen are apt to do&mdash;he had
+      taken two of last year&rsquo;s books. We wired at once to the steamer, but
+      I&rsquo;m afraid it&rsquo;s too late.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But now, this book,&rdquo; said the lady, idly turning over the
+      leaves, &ldquo;is it good? What is it about?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s an extremely POWERFUL thing,&rdquo; said Mr. Sellyer,
+      &ldquo;in fact, MASTERLY. The critics are saying that it&rsquo;s perhaps
+      THE most powerful book of the season. It has a&mdash;&rdquo; and here Mr.
+      Sellyer paused, and somehow his manner reminded me of my own when I am
+      explaining to a university class something that I don&rsquo;t know myself&mdash;&ldquo;It
+      has a&mdash;a&mdash;POWER, so to speak&mdash;a very exceptional power; in
+      fact, one may say without exaggeration it is the most POWERFUL book of the
+      month. Indeed,&rdquo; he added, getting on to easier ground, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s
+      having a perfectly wonderful sale.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You seem to have a great many of them,&rdquo; said the lady.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, we have to,&rdquo; answered the manager. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s a
+      regular rush on the book. Indeed, you know it&rsquo;s a book that is bound
+      to make a sensation. In fact, in certain quarters, they are saying that it&rsquo;s
+      a book that ought not to&mdash;&rdquo; And here Mr. Sellyer&rsquo;s voice
+      became so low and ingratiating that I couldn&rsquo;t hear the rest of the
+      sentence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, really!&rdquo; said Mrs. Rasselyer. &ldquo;Well, I think I&rsquo;ll
+      take it then. One ought to see what these talked-of things are about,
+      anyway.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She had already begun to button her gloves, and to readjust her feather
+      boa with which she had been knocking the Easter cards off the counter.
+      Then she suddenly remembered something.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I was forgetting,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Will you send
+      something to the house for Mr. Rasselyer at the same time? He&rsquo;s
+      going down to Virginia for the vacation. You know the kind of thing he
+      likes, do you not?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, perfectly, madam,&rdquo; said the manager. &ldquo;Mr. Rasselyer
+      generally reads works of&mdash;er&mdash;I think he buys mostly books on&mdash;er&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, travel and that sort of thing,&rdquo; said the lady.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Precisely. I think we have here,&rdquo; and he pointed to the
+      counter on the left, &ldquo;what Mr. Rasselyer wants.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He indicated a row of handsome books&mdash;&ldquo;Seven Weeks in the
+      Sahara, seven dollars; Six Months in a Waggon, six-fifty net; Afternoons
+      in an Oxcart, two volumes, four-thirty, with twenty off.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think he has read those,&rdquo; said Mrs. Rasselyer. &ldquo;At
+      least there are a good many at home that seem like that.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, very possibly&mdash;but here, now, Among the Cannibals of Corfu&mdash;yes,
+      that I think he has had&mdash;Among the&mdash;that, too, I think&mdash;but
+      this I am certain he would like, just in this morning&mdash;Among the
+      Monkeys of New Guinea&mdash;ten dollars, net.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And with this Mr. Sellyer laid his hand on a pile of new books, apparently
+      as numerous as the huge pile of Golden Dreams.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Among the Monkeys,&rdquo; he repeated, almost caressingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems rather expensive,&rdquo; said the lady.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, very much so&mdash;a most expensive book,&rdquo; the manager
+      repeated in a tone of enthusiasm. &ldquo;You see, Mrs. Rasselyer, it&rsquo;s
+      the illustrations, actual photographs&rdquo;&mdash;he ran the leaves over
+      in his fingers&mdash;&ldquo;of actual monkeys, taken with the camera&mdash;and
+      the paper, you notice&mdash;in fact, madam, the book costs, the mere
+      manufacture of it, nine dollars and ninety cents&mdash;of course we make
+      no profit on it. But it&rsquo;s a book we like to handle.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Everybody likes to be taken into the details of technical business; and of
+      course everybody likes to know that a bookseller is losing money. These, I
+      realised, were two axioms in the methods of Mr. Sellyer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So very naturally Mrs. Rasselyer bought Among the Monkeys, and in another
+      moment Mr. Sellyer was directing a clerk to write down an address on Fifth
+      Avenue, and was bowing deeply as he showed the lady out of the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As he turned back to his counter his manner seemed much changed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That Monkey book,&rdquo; I heard him murmur to his assistant,
+      &ldquo;is going to be a pretty stiff proposition.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But he had no time for further speculation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Another lady entered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This time even to an eye less trained than Mr. Sellyer&rsquo;s, the deep,
+      expensive mourning and the pensive face proclaimed the sentimental widow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Something new in fiction,&rdquo; repeated the manager, &ldquo;yes,
+      madam&mdash;here&rsquo;s a charming thing&mdash;Golden Dreams&rdquo;&mdash;he
+      hung lovingly on the words&mdash;&ldquo;a very sweet story, singularly
+      sweet; in fact, madam, the critics are saying it is the sweetest thing
+      that Mr. Slush has done.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it good?&rdquo; said the lady. I began to realise that all
+      customers asked this.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A charming book,&rdquo; said the manager. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a love
+      story&mdash;very simple and sweet, yet wonderfully charming. Indeed, the
+      reviews say it&rsquo;s the most charming book of the month. My wife was
+      reading it aloud only last night. She could hardly read for tears.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose it&rsquo;s quite a safe book, is it?&rdquo; asked the
+      widow. &ldquo;I want it for my little daughter.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, quite safe,&rdquo; said Mr. Sellyer, with an almost parental
+      tone, &ldquo;in fact, written quite in the old style, like the dear old
+      books of the past&mdash;quite like&rdquo;&mdash;here Mr. Sellyer paused
+      with a certain slight haze of doubt visible in his eye&mdash;&ldquo;like
+      Dickens and Fielding and Sterne and so on. We sell a great many to the
+      clergy, madam.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The lady bought Golden Dreams, received it wrapped up in green enamelled
+      paper, and passed out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you any good light reading for vacation time?&rdquo; called
+      out the next customer in a loud, breezy voice&mdash;he had the air of a
+      stock broker starting on a holiday.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Mr. Sellyer, and his face almost broke into a
+      laugh as he answered, &ldquo;here&rsquo;s an excellent thing&mdash;Golden
+      Dreams&mdash;quite the most humorous book of the season&mdash;simply
+      screaming&mdash;my wife was reading it aloud only yesterday. She could
+      hardly read for laughing.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the price, one dollar? One-fifty. All right, wrap it
+      up.&rdquo; There was a clink of money on the counter, and the customer was
+      gone. I began to see exactly where professors and college people who want
+      copies of Epictetus at 18 cents and sections of World Reprints of
+      Literature at 12 cents a section come in, in the book trade.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Judge!&rdquo; said the manager to the next customer, a huge,
+      dignified personage in a wide-awake hat, &ldquo;sea stories? Certainly.
+      Excellent reading, no doubt, when the brain is overcharged as yours must
+      be. Here is the very latest&mdash;Among the Monkeys of New Guinea, ten
+      dollars, reduced to four-fifty. The manufacture alone costs six-eighty. We&rsquo;re
+      selling it out. Thank you, Judge. Send it? Yes. Good morning.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After that the customers came and went in a string. I noticed that though
+      the store was filled with books&mdash;ten thousand of them, at a guess&mdash;Mr.
+      Sellyer was apparently only selling two. Every woman who entered went away
+      with Golden Dreams: every man was given a copy of the Monkeys of New
+      Guinea. To one lady Golden Dreams was sold as exactly the reading for a
+      holiday, to another as the very book to read AFTER a holiday; another
+      bought it as a book for a rainy day, and a fourth as the right sort of
+      reading for a fine day. The Monkeys was sold as a sea story, a land story,
+      a story of the jungle, and a story of the mountains, and it was put at a
+      price corresponding to Mr. Sellyer&rsquo;s estimate of the purchaser.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At last after a busy two hours, the store grew empty for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wilfred,&rdquo; said Mr. Sellyer, turning to his chief assistant,
+      &ldquo;I am going out to lunch. Keep those two books running as hard as
+      you can. We&rsquo;ll try them for another day and then cut them right out.
+      And I&rsquo;ll drop round to Dockem &amp; Discount, the publishers, and
+      make a kick about them, and see what they&rsquo;ll do.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I felt that I had lingered long enough. I drew near with the Epictetus in
+      my hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir,&rdquo; said Mr. Sellyer, professional again in a moment.
+      &ldquo;Epictetus? A charming thing. Eighteen cents. Thank you. Perhaps we
+      have some other things there that might interest you. We have a few
+      second-hand things in the alcove there that you might care to look at.
+      There&rsquo;s an Aristotle, two volumes&mdash;a very fine thing&mdash;practically
+      illegible, that you might like: and a Cicero came in yesterday&mdash;very
+      choice&mdash;damaged by damp&mdash;and I think we have a Machiavelli,
+      quite exceptional&mdash;practically torn to pieces, and the covers gone&mdash;a
+      very rare old thing, sir, if you&rsquo;re an expert.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, thanks,&rdquo; I said. And then from a curiosity that had been
+      growing in me and that I couldn&rsquo;t resist, &ldquo;That book&mdash;Golden
+      Dreams,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;you seem to think it a very wonderful work?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sellyer directed one of his shrewd glances at me. He knew I didn&rsquo;t
+      want to buy the book, and perhaps, like lesser people, he had his off
+      moments of confidence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A bad business,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The publishers have unloaded
+      the thing on us, and we have to do what we can. They&rsquo;re stuck with
+      it, I understand, and they look to us to help them. They&rsquo;re
+      advertising it largely and may pull it off. Of course, there&rsquo;s just
+      a chance. One can&rsquo;t tell. It&rsquo;s just possible we may get the
+      church people down on it and if so we&rsquo;re all right. But short of
+      that we&rsquo;ll never make it. I imagine it&rsquo;s perfectly rotten.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Haven&rsquo;t you read it?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me, no!&rdquo; said the manager. His air was that of a milkman
+      who is offered a glass of his own milk. &ldquo;A pretty time I&rsquo;d
+      have if I tried to READ the new books. It&rsquo;s quite enough to keep
+      track of them without that.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But those people,&rdquo; I went on, deeply perplexed, &ldquo;who
+      bought the book. Won&rsquo;t they be disappointed?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sellyer shook his head. &ldquo;Oh, no,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;you see,
+      they won&rsquo;t READ it. They never do.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But at any rate,&rdquo; I insisted, &ldquo;your wife thought it a
+      fine story.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sellyer smiled widely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not married, sir,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      III.&mdash;AFTERNOON ADVENTURES AT MY CLUB
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      1.&mdash;The Anecdotes of Dr. So and So
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      That is not really his name. I merely call him that from his manner of
+      talking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His specialty is telling me short anecdotes of his professional life from
+      day to day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They are told with wonderful dash and power, except for one slight
+      omission, which is, that you never know what the doctor is talking about.
+      Beyond this, his little stories are of unsurpassed interest&mdash;but let
+      me illustrate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He came into the semi-silence room of the club the other day and sat down
+      beside me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have something or other?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, thanks,&rdquo; I answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Smoke anything?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, thanks.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor turned to me. He evidently wanted to talk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been having a rather peculiar experience,&rdquo; he
+      said. &ldquo;Man came to me the other day&mdash;three or four weeks ago&mdash;and
+      said, &lsquo;Doctor, I feel out of sorts. I believe I&rsquo;ve got so and
+      so.&rsquo; &lsquo;Ah,&rsquo; I said, taking a look at him, &lsquo;been
+      eating so and so, eh?&rsquo; &lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; he said. &lsquo;Very good,&rsquo;
+      I said, &lsquo;take so and so.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, off the fellow went&mdash;I thought nothing of it&mdash;simply
+      wrote such and such in my note-book, such and such a date, symptoms such
+      and such&mdash;prescribed such and such, and so forth, you understand?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, perfectly, doctor,&rdquo; I answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good. Three days later&mdash;a ring at the bell in the evening&mdash;my
+      servant came to the surgery. &lsquo;Mr. So and So is here. Very anxious to
+      see you.&rsquo; &lsquo;All right!&rsquo; I went down. There he was, with
+      every symptom of so and so written all over him&mdash;every symptom of it&mdash;this
+      and this and this&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Awful symptoms, doctor,&rdquo; I said, shaking my head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are they not?&rdquo; he said, quite unaware that he hadn&rsquo;t
+      named any. &ldquo;There he was with every symptom, heart so and so, eyes
+      so and so, pulse this&mdash;I looked at him right in the eye and I said&mdash;&lsquo;Do
+      you want me to tell you the truth?&rsquo; &lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; he said.
+      &lsquo;Very good,&rsquo; I answered, &lsquo;I will. You&rsquo;ve got so
+      and so.&rsquo; He fell back as if shot. &lsquo;So and so!&rsquo; he
+      repeated, dazed. I went to the sideboard and poured him out a drink of
+      such and such. &lsquo;Drink this,&rsquo; I said. He drank it. &lsquo;Now,&rsquo;
+      I said, &lsquo;listen to what I say: You&rsquo;ve got so and so. There&rsquo;s
+      only one chance,&rsquo; I said, &lsquo;you must limit your eating and
+      drinking to such and such, you must sleep such and such, avoid every form
+      of such and such&mdash;I&rsquo;ll give you a cordial, so many drops every
+      so long, but mind you, unless you do so and so, it won&rsquo;t help you.&rsquo;
+      &lsquo;All right, very good.&rsquo; Fellow promised. Off he went.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor paused a minute and then resumed:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would you believe it&mdash;two nights later, I saw the fellow&mdash;after
+      the theatre, in a restaurant&mdash;whole party of people&mdash;big plate
+      of so and so in front of him&mdash;quart bottle of so and so on ice&mdash;such
+      and such and so forth. I stepped over to him&mdash;tapped him on the
+      shoulder: &lsquo;See here,&rsquo; I said, &lsquo;if you won&rsquo;t obey
+      my instructions, you can&rsquo;t expect me to treat you.&rsquo; I walked
+      out of the place.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what happened to him?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Died,&rdquo; said the doctor, in a satisfied tone. &ldquo;Died. I&rsquo;ve
+      just been filling in the certificate: So and so, aged such and such, died
+      of so and so!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An awful disease,&rdquo; I murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      2.&mdash;The Shattered Health of Mr. Podge
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How are you, Podge?&rdquo; I said, as I sat down in a leather
+      armchair beside him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I only meant &ldquo;How-do-you-do?&rdquo; but he rolled his big eyes
+      sideways at me in his flabby face (it was easier than moving his face) and
+      he answered:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not as well to-day as I was yesterday afternoon. Last
+      week I was feeling pretty good part of the time, but yesterday about four
+      o&rsquo;clock the air turned humid, and I don&rsquo;t feel so well.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have a cigarette?&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, thanks; I find they affect the bronchial toobes.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whose?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mine,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; I said, and I lighted one. &ldquo;So you find the
+      weather trying,&rdquo; I continued cheerfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, it&rsquo;s too humid. It&rsquo;s up to a saturation of
+      sixty-six. I&rsquo;m all right till it passes sixty-four. Yesterday
+      afternoon it was only about sixty-one, and I felt fine. But after that it
+      went up. I guess it must be a contraction of the epidermis pressing on
+      some of the sebaceous glands, don&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m sure it is,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;But why don&rsquo;t you
+      just sleep it off till it&rsquo;s over?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t like to sleep too much,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
+      afraid of it developing into hypersomnia. There are cases where it&rsquo;s
+      been known to grow into a sort of lethargy that pretty well stops all
+      brain action altogether&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That would be too bad,&rdquo; I murmured. &ldquo;What do you do to
+      prevent it?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I generally drink from half to three-quarters of a cup of black
+      coffee, or nearly black, every morning at from eleven to five minutes
+      past, so as to keep off hypersomnia. It&rsquo;s the best thing, the doctor
+      says.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aren&rsquo;t you afraid,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;of its keeping you
+      awake?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am,&rdquo; answered Podge, and a spasm passed over his big yellow
+      face. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m always afraid of insomnia. That&rsquo;s the worst
+      thing of all. The other night I went to bed about half-past ten, or
+      twenty-five minutes after,&mdash;I forget which,&mdash;and I simply couldn&rsquo;t
+      sleep. I couldn&rsquo;t. I read a magazine story, and I still couldn&rsquo;t;
+      and I read another, and still I couldn&rsquo;t sleep. It scared me bad.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, pshaw,&rdquo; I said; &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think sleep matters
+      as long as one eats properly and has a good appetite.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He shook his head very dubiously. &ldquo;I ate a plate of soup at lunch,&rdquo;
+      he said, &ldquo;and I feel it still.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You FEEL it!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; repeated Podge, rolling his eyes sideways in a pathetic
+      fashion that he had, &ldquo;I still feel it. I oughtn&rsquo;t to have
+      eaten it. It was some sort of a bean soup, and of course it was full of
+      nitrogen. I oughtn&rsquo;t to touch nitrogen,&rdquo; he added, shaking his
+      head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not take any nitrogen?&rdquo; I repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, the doctor&mdash;both doctors&mdash;have told me that. I can
+      eat starches, and albumens, all right, but I have to keep right away from
+      all carbons and nitrogens. I&rsquo;ve been dieting that way for two years,
+      except that now and again I take a little glucose or phosphates.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That must be a nice change,&rdquo; I said, cheerfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is,&rdquo; he answered in a grateful sort of tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a pause. I looked at his big twitching face, and listened to the
+      heavy wheezing of his breath, and I felt sorry for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See here, Podge,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;I want to give you some good
+      advice.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About what?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About your health.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes, do,&rdquo; he said. Advice about his health was right in
+      his line. He lived on it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, cut out all this fool business of diet and drugs and
+      nitrogen. Don&rsquo;t bother about anything of the sort. Forget it. Eat
+      everything you want to, just when you want it. Drink all you like. Smoke
+      all you can&mdash;and you&rsquo;ll feel a new man in a week.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Say, do you think so!&rdquo; he panted, his eyes filled with a new
+      light.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it,&rdquo; I answered. And as I left him I shook hands with
+      a warm feeling about my heart of being a benefactor to the human race.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Next day, sure enough, Podge&rsquo;s usual chair at the club was empty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Out getting some decent exercise,&rdquo; I thought. &ldquo;Thank
+      Heaven!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nor did he come the next day, nor the next, nor for a week.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Leading a rational life at last,&rdquo; I thought. &ldquo;Out in
+      the open getting a little air and sunlight, instead of sitting here
+      howling about his stomach.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The day after that I saw Dr. Slyder in black clothes glide into the club
+      in that peculiar manner of his, like an amateur undertaker.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hullo, Slyder,&rdquo; I called to him, &ldquo;you look as solemn as
+      if you had been to a funeral.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have,&rdquo; he said very quietly, and then added, &ldquo;poor
+      Podge!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What about him?&rdquo; I asked with sudden apprehension.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, he died on Tuesday,&rdquo; answered the doctor. &ldquo;Hadn&rsquo;t
+      you heard? Strangest case I&rsquo;ve known in years. Came home suddenly
+      one day, pitched all his medicines down the kitchen sink, ordered a couple
+      of cases of champagne and two hundred havanas, and had his housekeeper
+      cook a dinner like a Roman banquet! After being under treatment for two
+      years! Lived, you know, on the narrowest margin conceivable. I told him
+      and Silk told him&mdash;we all told him&mdash;his only chance was to keep
+      away from every form of nitrogenous ultra-stimulants. I said to him often,
+      &lsquo;Podge, if you touch heavy carbonized food, you&rsquo;re lost.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me,&rdquo; I thought to myself, &ldquo;there ARE such things
+      after all!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was a marvel,&rdquo; continued Slyder, &ldquo;that we kept him
+      alive at all. And, of course&rdquo;&mdash;here the doctor paused to ring
+      the bell to order two Manhattan cocktails&mdash;&ldquo;as soon as he
+      touched alcohol he was done.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So that was the end of the valetudinarianism of Mr. Podge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I have always considered that I killed him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But anyway, he was a nuisance at the club.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      3.&mdash;The Amazing Travels of Mr. Yarner
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      There was no fault to be found with Mr. Yarner till he made his trip
+      around the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was that, I think, which disturbed his brain and unfitted him for
+      membership in the club.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he would say, as he sat ponderously down with the air
+      of a man opening an interesting conversation, &ldquo;I was just figuring
+      it out that eleven months ago to-day I was in Pekin.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s odd,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;I was just reckoning that
+      eleven days ago I was in Poughkeepsie.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They don&rsquo;t call it Pekin over there,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s
+      sounded Pei-Chang.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s the same way with
+      Poughkeepsie, they pronounce it P&rsquo;Keepsie.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Chinese,&rdquo; he went on musingly, &ldquo;are a strange
+      people.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So are the people in P&rsquo;Keepsie,&rdquo; I added, &ldquo;awfully
+      strange.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That kind of retort would sometimes stop him, but not always. He was
+      especially dangerous if he was found with a newspaper in his hand; because
+      that meant that some item of foreign intelligence had gone to his brain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not that I should have objected to Yarner describing his travels. Any man
+      who has bought a ticket round the world and paid for it, is entitled to
+      that.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But it was his manner of discussion that I considered unpermissible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Last week, for example, in an unguarded moment I fell a victim. I had been
+      guilty of the imprudence&mdash;I forget in what connection&mdash;of
+      speaking of lions. I realized at once that I had done wrong&mdash;lions,
+      giraffes, elephants, rickshaws and natives of all brands, are topics to
+      avoid in talking with a traveller.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Speaking of lions,&rdquo; began Yarner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was right, of course; I HAD spoken of lions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&mdash;I shall never forget,&rdquo; he went on (of course, I knew
+      he never would), &ldquo;a rather bad scrape I got into in the up-country
+      of Uganda. Imagine yourself in a wild, rolling country covered here and
+      there with kwas along the sides of the nullahs.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I did so.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; continued Yarner, &ldquo;we were sitting in our tent
+      one hot night&mdash;too hot to sleep&mdash;when all at once we heard, not
+      ten feet in front of us, the most terrific roar that ever came from the
+      throat of a lion.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As he said this Yarner paused to take a gulp of bubbling whiskey and soda
+      and looked at me so ferociously that I actually shivered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then quite suddenly his manner cooled down in the strangest way, and his
+      voice changed to a commonplace tone as he said,&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps I ought to explain that we hadn&rsquo;t come up to the
+      up-country looking for big game. In fact, we had been down in the down
+      country with no idea of going higher than Mombasa. Indeed, our going even
+      to Mombasa itself was more or less an afterthought. Our first plan was to
+      strike across from Aden to Singapore. But our second plan was to strike
+      direct from Colombo to Karuchi&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what was your THIRD plan?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our third plan,&rdquo; said Yarner deliberately, feeling that the
+      talk was now getting really interesting, &ldquo;let me see, our third plan
+      was to cut across from Socotra to Tananarivo.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;However, all that was changed, and changed under the strangest
+      circumstances. We were sitting, Gallon and I, on the piazza of the Galle
+      Face Hotel in Colombo&mdash;you know the Galle Face?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I do not,&rdquo; I said very positively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good. Well, I was sitting on the piazza watching a snake
+      charmer who was seated, with a boa, immediately in front of me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor Gallon was actually within two feet of the hideous reptile.
+      All of a sudden the beast whirled itself into a coil, its eyes fastened
+      with hideous malignity on poor Gallon, and with its head erect it emitted
+      the most awful hiss I have heard proceed from the mouth of any living
+      snake.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here Yarner paused and took a long, hissing drink of whiskey and soda: and
+      then as the malignity died out of his face&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should explain,&rdquo; he went on, very quietly, &ldquo;that
+      Gallon was not one of our original party. We had come down to Colombo from
+      Mongolia, going by the Pekin Hankow and the Nippon Yushen Keisha.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That, I suppose, is the best way?&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. And oddly enough but for the accident of Gallon joining us, we
+      should have gone by the Amoy, Cochin, Singapore route, which was our first
+      plan. In fact, but for Gallon we should hardly have got through China at
+      all. The Boxer insurrection had taken place only fourteen years before our
+      visit, so you can imagine the awful state of the country.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our meeting with Gallon was thus absolutely providential. Looking
+      back on it, I think it perhaps saved our lives. We were in Mongolia (this,
+      you understand, was before we reached China), and had spent the night at a
+      small Yak about four versts from Kharbin, when all of a sudden, just
+      outside the miserable hut that we were in, we heard a perfect fusillade of
+      shots followed immediately afterwards by one of the most blood-curdling
+      and terrifying screams I have ever imagined&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;and that was how you met Gallon.
+      Well, I must be off.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And as I happened at that very moment to be rescued by an incoming friend,
+      who took but little interest in lions, and even less in Yarner, I have
+      still to learn why the lion howled so when it met Yarner. But surely the
+      lion had reason enough.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      4.&mdash;The Spiritual Outlook of Mr. Doomer
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      One generally saw old Mr. Doomer looking gloomily out of the windows of
+      the library of the club. If not there, he was to be found staring sadly
+      into the embers of a dying fire in a deserted sitting-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His gloom always appeared out of place as he was one of the richest of the
+      members.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the cause of it,&mdash;as I came to know,&mdash;was that he was
+      perpetually concerned with thinking about the next world. In fact he spent
+      his whole time brooding over it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I discovered this accidentally by happening to speak to him of the recent
+      death of Podge, one of our fellow members.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very sad,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;Podge&rsquo;s death.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; returned Mr. Doomer, &ldquo;very shocking. He was quite
+      unprepared to die.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you think so?&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m awfully sorry to
+      hear it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite unprepared,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;I had reason to know
+      it as one of his executors,&mdash;everything is confusion,&mdash;nothing
+      signed,&mdash;no proper power of attorney,&mdash;codicils drawn up in
+      blank and never witnessed,&mdash;in short, sir, no sense apparently of the
+      nearness of his death and of his duty to be prepared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;poor Podge didn&rsquo;t realise
+      that he was going to die.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, that&rsquo;s just it,&rdquo; resumed Mr. Doomer with something
+      like sternness, &ldquo;a man OUGHT to realise it. Every man ought to feel
+      that at any moment,&mdash;one can&rsquo;t tell when,&mdash;day or night,&mdash;he
+      may be called upon to meet his,&rdquo;&mdash;Mr. Doomer paused here as if
+      seeking a phrase&mdash;&ldquo;to meet his Financial Obligations, face to
+      face. At any time, sir, he may be hurried before the Judge,&mdash;or
+      rather his estate may be,&mdash;before the Judge of the probate court. It
+      is a solemn thought, sir. And yet when I come here I see about me men
+      laughing, talking, and playing billiards, as if there would never be a day
+      when their estate would pass into the hands of their administrators and an
+      account must be given of every cent.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But after all,&rdquo; I said, trying to fall in with his mood,
+      &ldquo;death and dissolution must come to all of us.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s just it,&rdquo; he said solemnly. &ldquo;They&rsquo;ve
+      dissolved the tobacco people, and they&rsquo;ve dissolved the oil people
+      and you can&rsquo;t tell whose turn it may be next.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Doomer was silent a moment and then resumed, speaking in a tone of
+      humility that was almost reverential.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And yet there is a certain preparedness for death, a certain
+      fitness to die that we ought all to aim at. Any man can at least think
+      solemnly of the Inheritance Tax, and reflect whether by a contract inter
+      vivos drawn in blank he may not obtain redemption; any man if he thinks
+      death is near may at least divest himself of his purely speculative
+      securities and trust himself entirely to those gold bearing bonds of the
+      great industrial corporations whose value will not readily diminish or
+      pass away.&rdquo; Mr. Doomer was speaking with something like religious
+      rapture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And yet what does one see?&rdquo; he continued. &ldquo;Men affected
+      with fatal illness and men stricken in years occupied still with idle talk
+      and amusements instead of reading the financial newspapers,&mdash;and at
+      the last carried away with scarcely time perhaps to send for their brokers
+      when it is already too late.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is very sad,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very,&rdquo; he repeated, &ldquo;and saddest of all, perhaps, is
+      the sense of the irrevocability of death and the changes that must come
+      after it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We were silent a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You think of these things a great deal, Mr. Doomer?&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;It may be that it is something in
+      my temperament, I suppose one would call it a sort of spiritual
+      mindedness. But I think of it all constantly. Often as I stand here beside
+      the window and see these cars go by&rdquo;&mdash;he indicated a passing
+      street car&mdash;&ldquo;I cannot but realise that the time will come when
+      I am no longer a managing director and wonder whether they will keep on
+      trying to hold the dividend down by improving the rolling stock or will
+      declare profits to inflate the securities. These mysteries beyond the
+      grave fascinate me, sir. Death is a mysterious thing. Who for example will
+      take my seat on the Exchange? What will happen to my majority control of
+      the power company? I shudder to think of the changes that may happen after
+      death in the assessment of my real estate.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;it is all beyond our control, isn&rsquo;t
+      it?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite,&rdquo; answered Mr. Doomer; &ldquo;especially of late years
+      one feels that, all said and done, we are in the hands of a Higher Power,
+      and that the State Legislature is after all supreme. It gives one a sense
+      of smallness. It makes one feel that in these days of drastic legislation
+      with all one&rsquo;s efforts the individual is lost and absorbed in the
+      controlling power of the state legislature. Consider the words that are
+      used in the text of the Income Tax Case, Folio Two, or the text of the
+      Trans-Missouri Freight Decision, and think of the revelation they contain.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I left Mr. Doomer still standing beside the window, musing on the vanity
+      of life and on things, such as the future control of freight rates, that
+      lay beyond the grave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I noticed as I left him how broken and aged he had come to look. It seemed
+      as if the chafings of the spirit were wearing the body that harboured it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was about a month later that I learned of Mr. Doomer&rsquo;s death.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dr. Slyder told me of it in the club one afternoon, over two cocktails in
+      the sitting-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A beautiful bedside,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;one of the most
+      edifying that I have ever attended. I knew that Doomer was failing and of
+      course the time came when I had to tell him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Mr. Doomer,&rsquo; I said, &lsquo;all that I, all that any
+      medical can do for you is done; you are going to die. I have to warn you
+      that it is time for other ministrations than mine.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Very good,&rsquo; he said faintly but firmly, &lsquo;send
+      for my broker.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They sent out and fetched Jarvis,&mdash;you know him I think,&mdash;most
+      sympathetic man and yet most business-like&mdash;he does all the firm&rsquo;s
+      business with the dying,&mdash;and we two sat beside Doomer holding him up
+      while he signed stock transfers and blank certificates.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Once he paused and turned his eyes on Jarvis. &lsquo;Read me from
+      the text of the State Inheritance Tax Statute,&rsquo; he said. Jarvis took
+      the book and read aloud very quietly and simply the part at the beginning&mdash;&lsquo;Whenever
+      and wheresoever it shall appear,&rsquo; down to the words, &lsquo;shall be
+      no longer a subject of judgment or appeal but shall remain in perpetual
+      possession.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Doomer listened with his eyes closed. The reading seemed to bring
+      him great comfort. When Jarvis ended he said with a sign, &lsquo;That
+      covers it. I&rsquo;ll put my faith in that.&rsquo; After that he was
+      silent a moment and then said: &lsquo;I wish I had already crossed the
+      river. Oh, to have already crossed the river and be safe on the other
+      side.&rsquo; We knew what he meant. He had always planned to move over to
+      New Jersey. The inheritance tax is so much more liberal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Presently it was all done.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;There,&rsquo; I said, &lsquo;it is finished now.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;No,&rsquo; he answered, &lsquo;there is still one thing.
+      Doctor, you&rsquo;ve been very good to me. I should like to pay your
+      account now without it being a charge on the estate. I will pay it as&rsquo;&mdash;he
+      paused for a moment and a fit of coughing seized him, but by an effort of
+      will he found the power to say&mdash;&lsquo;cash.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I took the account from my pocket (I had it with me, fearing the
+      worst), and we laid his cheque-book before him on the bed. Jarvis thinking
+      him too faint to write tried to guide his hand as he filled in the sum.
+      But he shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;The room is getting dim,&rsquo; he said. &lsquo;I can see
+      nothing but the figures.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Never mind,&rsquo; said Jarvis,&mdash;much moved, &lsquo;that&rsquo;s
+      enough.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Is it four hundred and thirty?&rsquo; he asked faintly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; I said, and I could feel the tears rising in my
+      eyes, &lsquo;and fifty cents.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After signing the cheque his mind wandered for a moment and he fell
+      to talking, with his eyes closed, of the new federal banking law, and of
+      the prospect of the reserve associations being able to maintain an
+      adequate gold supply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just at the last he rallied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;I want,&rsquo; he said in quite a firm voice, &lsquo;to do
+      something for both of you before I die.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Yes, yes,&rsquo; we said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;You are both interested, are you not,&rsquo; he murmured, in
+      City Traction?&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Yes, yes,&rsquo; we said. We knew of course that he was the
+      managing director.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He looked at us faintly and tried to speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Give him a cordial,&rsquo; said Jarvis. But he found his
+      voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;The value of that stock,&rsquo; he said, &lsquo;is going to
+      take a sudden&mdash;&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His voice grew faint.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Yes, yes,&rsquo; I whispered, bending over him (there were
+      tears in both our eyes), &lsquo;tell me is it going up, or going down?&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;It is going&rsquo;&mdash;he murmured,&mdash;then his eyes
+      closed&mdash;&lsquo;it is going&mdash;&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Yes, yes,&rsquo; I said, &lsquo;which?&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;It is going&rsquo;&mdash;he repeated feebly and then, quite
+      suddenly he fell back on the pillows and his soul passed. And we never
+      knew which way it was going. It was very sad. Later on, of course, after
+      he was dead, we knew, as everybody knew, that it went down.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      5.&mdash;The Reminiscences of Mr. Apricot
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rather a cold day, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo; I said as I entered the
+      club.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man I addressed popped his head out from behind a newspaper and I saw
+      it was old Mr. Apricot. So I was sorry that I had spoken.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not so cold as the winter of 1866,&rdquo; he said, beaming with
+      benevolence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had an egg-shaped head, bald, with some white hair fluffed about the
+      sides of it. He had a pink face with large blue eyes, behind his
+      spectacles, benevolent to the verge of imbecility.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was that a cold winter?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bitter cold,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I have never told you, have I,
+      of my early experiences in life?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think I have heard you mention them,&rdquo; I murmured, but he
+      had already placed a detaining hand on my sleeve. &ldquo;Sit down,&rdquo;
+      he said. Then he continued: &ldquo;Yes, it was a cold winter. I was going
+      to say that it was the coldest I have ever experienced, but that might be
+      an exaggeration. But it was certainly colder than any winter that YOU have
+      ever seen, or that we ever have now, or are likely to have. In fact the
+      winters NOW are a mere nothing,&rdquo;&mdash;here Mr. Apricot looked
+      toward the club window where the driven snow was beating in eddies against
+      the panes,&mdash;&ldquo;simply nothing. One doesn&rsquo;t feel them at
+      all,&rdquo;&mdash;here he turned his eyes towards the glowing fire that
+      flamed in the open fireplace. &ldquo;But when I was a boy things were very
+      different. I have probably never mentioned to you, have I, the
+      circumstances of my early life?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had, many times. But he had turned upon me the full beam of his
+      benevolent spectacles and I was too weak to interrupt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My father,&rdquo; went on Mr. Apricot, settling back in his chair
+      and speaking with a far-away look in his eyes, &ldquo;had settled on the
+      banks of the Wabash River&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, I know it well,&rdquo; I interjected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not as it was THEN,&rdquo; said Mr. Apricot very quickly. &ldquo;At
+      present as you, or any other thoughtless tourist sees it, it appears a
+      broad river pouring its vast flood in all directions. At the time I speak
+      of it was a mere stream scarcely more than a few feet in circumference.
+      The life we led there was one of rugged isolation and of sturdy
+      self-reliance and effort such as it is, of course, quite impossible for
+      YOU, or any other member of this club to understand,&mdash;I may give you
+      some idea of what I mean when I say that at that time there was no town
+      nearer to Pittsburgh than Chicago, or to St. Paul than Minneapolis&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Impossible!&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Apricot seemed not to notice the interruption.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There was no place nearer to Springfield than St. Louis,&rdquo; he
+      went on in a peculiar singsong voice, &ldquo;and there was nothing nearer
+      to Denver than San Francisco, nor to New Orleans than Rio Janeiro&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He seemed as if he would go on indefinitely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were speaking of your father?&rdquo; I interrupted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My father,&rdquo; said Mr. Apricot, &ldquo;had settled on the
+      banks, both banks, of the Wabash. He was like so many other men of his
+      time, a disbanded soldier, a veteran&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of the Mexican War or of the Civil War?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly,&rdquo; answered Mr. Apricot, hardly heeding the question,&mdash;&ldquo;of
+      the Mexican Civil War.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was he under Lincoln?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;OVER Lincoln,&rdquo; corrected Mr. Apricot gravely. And he added,&mdash;&ldquo;It
+      is always strange to me the way in which the present generation regards
+      Abraham Lincoln. To us, of course, at the time of which I speak, Lincoln
+      was simply one of ourselves.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In 1866?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This was 1856,&rdquo; said Mr. Apricot. &ldquo;He came often to my
+      father&rsquo;s cabin, sitting down with us to our humble meal of potatoes
+      and whiskey (we lived with a simplicity which of course you could not
+      possibly understand), and would spend the evening talking with my father
+      over the interpretation of the Constitution of the United States. We
+      children used to stand beside them listening open-mouthed beside the fire
+      in our plain leather night-gowns. I shall never forget how I was thrilled
+      when I first heard Lincoln lay down his famous theory of the territorial
+      jurisdiction of Congress as affected by the Supreme Court decision of
+      1857. I was only nine years old at the time, but it thrilled me!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it possible!&rdquo; I exclaimed, &ldquo;how ever could you
+      understand it?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! my friend,&rdquo; said Mr. Apricot, almost sadly, &ldquo;in
+      THOSE days the youth of the United States were EDUCATED in the real sense
+      of the word. We children followed the decisions of the Supreme Court with
+      breathless interest. Our books were few but they were GOOD. We had nothing
+      to read but the law reports, the agriculture reports, the weather
+      bulletins and the almanacs. But we read them carefully from cover to
+      cover. How few boys have the industry to do so now, and yet how many of
+      our greatest men were educated on practically nothing else except the law
+      reports and the almanacs. Franklin, Jefferson, Jackson, Johnson,&rdquo;&mdash;Mr.
+      Apricot had relapsed into his sing-song voice, and his eye had a sort of
+      misty perplexity in it as he went on,&mdash;&ldquo;Harrison, Thomson,
+      Peterson, Emerson&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I thought it better to stop him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you were speaking,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;of the winter of
+      eighteen fifty-six.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of eighteen forty-six,&rdquo; corrected Mr. Apricot. &ldquo;I shall
+      never forget it. How distinctly I remember,&mdash;I was only a boy then,
+      in fact a mere lad,&mdash;fighting my way to school. The snow lay in some
+      places as deep as ten feet&rdquo;&mdash; Mr. Apricot paused&mdash;&ldquo;and
+      in others twenty. But we made our way to school in spite of it. No boys of
+      to-day,&mdash;nor, for the matter of that, even men such as you,&mdash;would
+      think of attempting it. But we were keen, anxious to learn. Our school was
+      our delight. Our teacher was our friend. Our books were our companions. We
+      gladly trudged five miles to school every morning and seven miles back at
+      night, did chores till midnight, studied algebra by candlelight&rdquo;&mdash;here
+      Mr. Apricot&rsquo;s voice had fallen into its characteristic sing-song,
+      and his eyes were vacant&mdash;&ldquo;rose before daylight, dressed by
+      lamplight, fed the hogs by lantern-light, fetched the cows by twilight&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I thought it best to stop him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you did eventually get off the farm, did you not?&rdquo; I
+      asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;my opportunity presently came to me
+      as it came in those days to any boy of industry and intelligence who
+      knocked at the door of fortune till it opened. I shall never forget how my
+      first chance in life came to me. A man, an entire stranger, struck no
+      doubt with the fact that I looked industrious and willing, offered me a
+      dollar to drive a load of tan bark to the nearest market&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where was that?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Minneapolis, seven hundred miles. But I did it. I shall never
+      forget my feelings when I found myself in Minneapolis with one dollar in
+      my pocket and with the world all before me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did you do?&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;First,&rdquo; said Mr. Apricot, &ldquo;I laid out seventy-five
+      cents for a suit of clothes (things were cheap in those days); for fifty
+      cents I bought an overcoat, for twenty-five I got a hat, for ten cents a
+      pair of boots, and with the rest of my money I took a room for a month
+      with a Swedish family, paid a month&rsquo;s board with a German family,
+      arranged to have my washing done by an Irish family, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But surely, Mr. Apricot&mdash;&rdquo; I began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But at this point the young man who is generally in attendance on old Mr.
+      Apricot when he comes to the club, appeared on the scene.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid,&rdquo; he said to me aside as Mr. Apricot was
+      gathering up his newspapers and his belongings, &ldquo;that my uncle has
+      been rather boring you with his reminiscences.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not at all,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;he&rsquo;s been telling me all
+      about his early life in his father&rsquo;s cabin on the Wabash&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was afraid so,&rdquo; said the young man. &ldquo;Too bad. You see
+      he wasn&rsquo;t really there at all.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not there!&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. He only fancies that he was. He was brought up in New York, and
+      has never been west of Philadelphia. In fact he has been very well to do
+      all his life. But he found that it counted against him: it hurt him in
+      politics. So he got into the way of talking about the Middle West and
+      early days there, and sometimes he forgets that he wasn&rsquo;t there.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meantime Mr. Apricot was ready.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-bye, good-bye,&rdquo; he said very cheerily,&mdash;&ldquo;A
+      delightful chat. We must have another talk over old times soon. I must
+      tell you about my first trip over the Plains at the time when I was
+      surveying the line of the Union Pacific. You who travel nowadays in your
+      Pullman coaches and observation cars can have no idea&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come along, uncle,&rdquo; said the young man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      6.&mdash;The Last Man out of Europe
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      He came into the club and shook hands with me as if he hadn&rsquo;t seen
+      me for a year. In reality I had seen him only eleven months ago, and hadn&rsquo;t
+      thought of him since.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How are you, Parkins?&rdquo; I said in a guarded tone, for I saw at
+      once that there was something special in his manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have a cig?&rdquo; he said as he sat down on the edge of an
+      arm-chair, dangling his little boot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Any young man who calls a cigarette a &ldquo;cig&rdquo; I despise. &ldquo;No,
+      thanks,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Try one,&rdquo; he went on, &ldquo;they&rsquo;re Hungarian. They&rsquo;re
+      some I managed to bring through with me out of the war zone.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As he said &ldquo;war zone,&rdquo; his face twisted up into a sort of
+      scowl of self-importance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I looked at Parkins more closely and I noticed that he had on some sort of
+      foolish little coat, short in the back, and the kind of bow-tie that they
+      wear in the Hungarian bands of the Sixth Avenue restaurants.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then I knew what the trouble was. He was the last man out of Europe, that
+      is to say, the latest last man. There had been about fourteen others in
+      the club that same afternoon. In fact they were sitting all over it in
+      Italian suits and Viennese overcoats, striking German matches on the soles
+      of Dutch boots. These were the &ldquo;war zone&rdquo; men and they had
+      just got out &ldquo;in the clothes they stood up in.&rdquo; Naturally they
+      hated to change.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So I knew all that this young man, Parkins, was going to say, and all
+      about his adventures before he began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;we were caught right in the war zone.
+      By Jove, I never want to go through again what I went through.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With that, he sank back into the chair in the pose of a man musing in
+      silence over the recollection of days of horror.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I let him muse. In fact I determined to let him muse till he burst before
+      I would ask him what he had been through. I knew it, anyway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Presently he decided to go on talking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We were at Izzl,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;in the Carpathians, Loo
+      Jones and I. We&rsquo;d just made a walking tour from Izzl to Fryzzl and
+      back again.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why did you come back?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Back where?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Back to Izzl,&rdquo; I explained, &ldquo;after you&rsquo;d once got
+      to Fryzzl. It seems unnecessary, but, never mind, go on.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was in July,&rdquo; he continued. &ldquo;There wasn&rsquo;t a
+      sign of war, not a sign. We heard that Russia was beginning to mobilize,&rdquo;
+      (at this word be blew a puff from his cigarette and then repeated &ldquo;beginning
+      to mobilize&rdquo;) &ldquo;but we thought nothing of it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course not,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then we heard that Hungary was calling out the Honveds, but we
+      still thought nothing of it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly not,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And then we heard&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;you heard that Italy was calling
+      out the Trombonari, and that Germany was calling in all the
+      Landesgeschutzshaft.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked at me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How did you know that?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We heard it over here,&rdquo; I answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he went on, &ldquo;next thing we knew we heard that
+      the Russians were at Fryzzl.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Great Heavens!&rdquo; I exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, at Fryzzl, not a hundred miles away. The very place we&rsquo;d
+      been at only two weeks before.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Think of it!&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;If you&rsquo;d been where you
+      were two weeks after you were there, or if the Russians had been a hundred
+      miles away from where they were, or even if Fryzzl had been a hundred
+      miles nearer to Izzl&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We both shuddered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was a close call,&rdquo; said Parkins. &ldquo;However, I said to
+      Loo Jones, &lsquo;Loo, it&rsquo;s time to clear out.&rsquo; And then, I
+      tell you, our trouble began. First of all we couldn&rsquo;t get any money.
+      We went to the bank at Izzl and tried to get them to give us American
+      dollars for Hungarian paper money; we had nothing else.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And wouldn&rsquo;t they?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Absolutely refused. They said they hadn&rsquo;t any.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By George,&rdquo; I exclaimed. &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t war dreadful?
+      What on earth did you do?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Took a chance,&rdquo; said Parkins. &ldquo;Went across to the
+      railway station to buy our tickets with the Hungarian money.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you get them?&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; assented Parkins. &ldquo;They said they&rsquo;d sell us
+      tickets. But they questioned us mighty closely; asked where we wanted to
+      go to, what class we meant to travel by, how much luggage we had to
+      register and so on. I tell you the fellow looked at us mighty closely.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Were you in those clothes?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Parkins, &ldquo;but I guess he suspected we weren&rsquo;t
+      Hungarians. You see, we couldn&rsquo;t either of us speak Hungarian. In
+      fact we spoke nothing but English.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That would give him a clue,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;However,&rdquo; he went on, &ldquo;he was civil enough in a way. We
+      asked when was the next train to the sea coast, and he said there wasn&rsquo;t
+      any.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No trains?&rdquo; I repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not to the coast. The man said the reason was because there wasn&rsquo;t
+      any railway to the coast. But he offered to sell us tickets to Vienna. We
+      asked when the train would go and he said there wouldn&rsquo;t be one for
+      two hours. So there we were waiting on that wretched little platform,&mdash;no
+      place to sit down, no shade, unless one went into the waiting room itself,&mdash;for
+      two mortal hours. And even then the train was an hour and a half late!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An hour and a half late!&rdquo; I repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yep!&rdquo; said Parkins, &ldquo;that&rsquo;s what things were like
+      over there. So when we got on board the train we asked a man when it was
+      due to get to Vienna, and he said he hadn&rsquo;t the faintest idea!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good heavens!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not the faintest idea. He told us to ask the conductor or one of
+      the porters. No, sir, I&rsquo;ll never forget that journey through to
+      Vienna,&mdash;nine mortal hours! Nothing to eat, not a bite, except just
+      in the middle of the day when they managed to hitch on a dining-car for a
+      while. And they warned everybody that the dining-car was only on for an
+      hour and a half. Commandeered, I guess after that,&rdquo; added Parkins,
+      puffing his cigarette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;we got to Vienna at last. I&rsquo;ll
+      never forget the scene there, station full of people, trains coming and
+      going, men, even women, buying tickets, big piles of luggage being shoved
+      on trucks. It gave one a great idea of the reality of things.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It must have,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor old Loo Jones was getting pretty well used up with it all.
+      However, we determined to see it through somehow.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did you do next?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tried again to get money: couldn&rsquo;t&mdash;they changed our
+      Hungarian paper into Italian gold, but they refused to give us American
+      money.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hoarding it?&rdquo; I hinted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly,&rdquo; said Parkins, &ldquo;hoarding it all for the war.
+      Well anyhow we got on a train for Italy and there our troubles began all
+      over again:&mdash;train stopped at the frontier,&mdash;officials (fellows
+      in Italian uniforms) went all through it, opening hand baggage&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not hand baggage!&rdquo; I gasped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir, even the hand baggage. Opened it all, or a lot of it
+      anyway, and scribbled chalk marks over it. Yes, and worse than that,&mdash;I
+      saw them take two fellows and sling them clear off the train,&mdash;they
+      slung them right out on to the platform.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What for?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Heaven knows,&rdquo; said Parkins,&mdash;&ldquo;they said they had
+      no tickets. In war time you know, when they&rsquo;re mobilizing, they won&rsquo;t
+      let a soul ride on a train without a ticket.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Infernal tyranny,&rdquo; I murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t it? However, we got to Genoa at last, only to find that
+      not a single one of our trunks had come with us!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Confiscated?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; said Parkins, &ldquo;the head baggage
+      man (he wears a uniform, you know, in Italy just like a soldier) said it
+      was because we&rsquo;d forgotten to check them in Vienna. However there we
+      were waiting for twenty-four hours with nothing but our valises.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Right at the station?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, at a hotel. We got the trunks later. They telegraphed to Vienna
+      for them and managed to get them through somehow,&mdash;in a baggage car,
+      I believe.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And after that, I suppose, you had no more trouble.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Trouble,&rdquo; said Parkins, &ldquo;I should say we had. Couldn&rsquo;t
+      get a steamer! They said there was none sailing out of Genoa for New York
+      for three days! All cancelled, I guess, or else rigged up as cruisers.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What on earth did you do?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stuck it out as best we could: stayed right there in the hotel.
+      Poor old Jones was pretty well collapsed! Couldn&rsquo;t do anything but
+      sleep and eat, and sit on the piazza of the hotel.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you got your steamer at last?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he admitted, &ldquo;we got it. But I never want to go
+      through another voyage like that again, no sir!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What was wrong with it?&rdquo; I asked, &ldquo;bad weather?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, calm, but a peculiar calm, glassy, with little ripples on the
+      water,&mdash;uncanny sort of feeling.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What was wrong with the voyage?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, just the feeling of it,&mdash;everything under strict rule you
+      know&mdash;no lights anywhere except just the electric lights,&mdash;smoking-room
+      closed tight at eleven o&rsquo;clock,&mdash;decks all washed down every
+      night&mdash;officers up on the bridge all day looking out over the sea,&mdash;no,
+      sir, I want no more of it. Poor old Loo Jones, I guess he&rsquo;s quite
+      used up: he can&rsquo;t speak of it at all: just sits and broods, in fact
+      I doubt...&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At this moment Parkins&rsquo;s conversation was interrupted by the entry
+      of two newcomers into the room. One of them had on a little Hungarian suit
+      like the one Parkins wore, and was talking loudly as they came in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he was saying, &ldquo;we were caught there fair and
+      square right in the war zone. We were at Izzl in the Carpathians, poor old
+      Parkins and I&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We looked round.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was Loo Jones, describing his escape from Europe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      7.&mdash;The War Mania of Mr. Jinks and Mr. Blinks
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      They were sitting face to face at a lunch table at the club so near to me
+      that I couldn&rsquo;t avoid hearing what they said. In any case they are
+      both stout men with gurgling voices which carry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What Kitchener ought to do,&rdquo;&mdash;Jinks was saying in a loud
+      voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So I knew at once that he had the prevailing hallucination. He thought he
+      was commanding armies in Europe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After which I watched him show with three bits of bread and two olives and
+      a dessert knife the way in which the German army could be destroyed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Blinks looked at Jinks&rsquo; diagram with a stern impassive face,
+      modelled on the Sunday supplement photogravures of Lord Kitchener.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your flank would be too much exposed,&rdquo; he said, pointing to
+      Jinks&rsquo; bread. He spoke with the hard taciturnity of a Joffre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My reserves cover it,&rdquo; said Jinks, moving two pepper pots to
+      the support of the bread.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mind you,&rdquo; Jinks went on, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t say Kitchener
+      WILL do this: I say this is what he OUGHT to do: it&rsquo;s exactly the
+      tactics of Kuropatkin outside of Mukden and it&rsquo;s precisely the same
+      turning movement that Grant used before Richmond.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Blinks nodded gravely. Anybody who has seen the Grand Duke Nicholoevitch
+      quietly accepting the advice of General Ruski under heavy artillery fire,
+      will realize Blinks&rsquo; manner to a nicety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And, oddly enough, neither of them, I am certain, has ever had any larger
+      ideas about the history of the Civil War than what can be got from reading
+      Uncle Tom&rsquo;s Cabin and seeing Gillette play Secret Service. But this
+      is part of the mania. Jinks and Blinks had suddenly developed the
+      hallucination that they knew the history of all wars by a sort of
+      instinct.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They rose soon after that, dusted off their waistcoats with their napkins
+      and waddled heavily towards the door. I could hear them as they went
+      talking eagerly of the need of keeping the troops in hard training. They
+      were almost brutal in their severity. As they passed out of the door,&mdash;one
+      at a time to avoid crowding,&mdash;they were still talking about it. Jinks
+      was saying that our whole generation is overfed and soft. If he had his
+      way he would take every man in the United States up to forty- seven years
+      of age (Jinks is forty-eight) and train him to a shadow. Blinks went
+      further. He said they should be trained hard up to fifty. He is fifty-one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After that I used to notice Jinks and Blinks always together in the club,
+      and always carrying on the European War.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I never knew which side they were on. They seemed to be on both. One day
+      they commanded huge armies of Russians, and there was one week when Blinks
+      and Jinks at the head of vast levies of Cossacks threatened to overrun the
+      whole of Western Europe. It was dreadful to watch them burning churches
+      and monasteries and to see Jinks throw whole convents full of white robed
+      nuns into the flames like so much waste paper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a time I feared they would obliterate civilization itself. Then
+      suddenly Blinks decided that Jinks&rsquo; Cossacks were no good, not
+      properly trained. He converted himself on the spot into a Prussian Field
+      Marshal, declared himself organised to a pitch of organisation of which
+      Jinks could form no idea, and swept Jinks&rsquo; army off the earth,
+      without using any men at all, by sheer organisation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In this way they moved to and fro all winter over the map of Europe,
+      carrying death and destruction everywhere and revelling in it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But I think I liked best the wild excitement of their naval battles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jinks generally fancied himself a submarine and Blinks acted the part of a
+      first-class battleship. Jinks would pop his periscope out of the water,
+      take a look at Blinks merely for the fraction of a second, and then, like
+      a flash, would dive under water again and start firing his torpedoes. He
+      explained that he carried six.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But he was never quick enough for Blinks. One glimpse of his periscope
+      miles and miles away was enough. Blinks landed him a contact shell in the
+      side, sunk him with all hands, and then lined his yards with men and
+      cheered. I have known Blinks sink Jinks at two miles, six miles&mdash;and
+      once&mdash;in the club billiard room just after the battle of the Falkland
+      Islands,&mdash;he got him fair and square at ten nautical miles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jinks of course claimed that he was not sunk. He had dived. He was two
+      hundred feet under water quietly smiling at Blinks through his periscope.
+      In fact the number of things that Jinks has learned to do through his
+      periscope passes imagination.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Whenever I see him looking across at Blinks with his eyes half closed and
+      with a baffling, quizzical expression in them, I know that he is looking
+      at him through his periscope. Now is the time for Blinks to watch out. If
+      he relaxes his vigilance for a moment he&rsquo;ll be torpedoed as he sits,
+      and sent flying, whiskey and soda and all, through the roof of the club,
+      while Jinks dives into the basement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Indeed it has come about of late, I don&rsquo;t know just how, that Jinks
+      has more or less got command of the sea. A sort of tacit understanding has
+      been reached that Blinks, whichever army he happens at the moment to
+      command, is invincible on land. But Jinks, whether as a submarine or a
+      battleship, controls the sea. No doubt this grew up in the natural
+      evolution of their conversation. It makes things easier for both. Jinks
+      even asks Blinks how many men there are in an army division, and what a
+      sotnia of Cossacks is and what the Army Service Corps means. And Jinks in
+      return has become a recognized expert in torpedoes and has taken to
+      wearing a blue serge suit and referring to Lord Beresford as Charley.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But what I noticed chiefly about the war mania of Jinks and Blinks was
+      their splendid indifference to slaughter. They had gone into the war with
+      a grim resolution to fight it out to a finish. If Blinks thought to
+      terrify Jinks by threatening to burn London, he little knew his man.
+      &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; said Jinks, taking a fresh light for his cigar,
+      &ldquo;burn it! By doing so, you destroy, let us say, two million of my
+      women and children? Very good. Am I injured by that? No. You merely
+      stimulate me to recruiting.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was something awful in the grimness of the struggle as carried on by
+      Blinks and Jinks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The rights of neutrals and non-combatants, Red Cross nurses, and
+      regimental clergymen they laughed to scorn. As for moving-picture men and
+      newspaper correspondents, Jinks and Blinks hanged them on every tree in
+      Belgium and Poland.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With combatants in this frame of mind the war I suppose might have lasted
+      forever.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But it came to an end accidentally,&mdash;fortuitously, as all great wars
+      are apt to. And by accident also, I happened to see the end of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was late one evening. Jinks and Blinks were coming down the steps of
+      the club, and as they came they were speaking with some vehemence on their
+      favourite topic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I tell you,&rdquo; Jinks was saying, &ldquo;war is a great thing.
+      We needed it, Blinks. We were all getting too soft, too scared of
+      suffering and pain. We wilt at a bayonet charge, we shudder at the thought
+      of wounds. Bah!&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;what does it matter if a few
+      hundred thousands of human beings are cut to pieces. We need to get back
+      again to the old Viking standard, the old pagan ideas of suffering&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And as he spoke he got it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The steps of the club were slippery with the evening&rsquo;s rain,&mdash;not
+      so slippery as the frozen lakes of East Prussia or the hills where Jinks
+      and Blinks had been campaigning all winter, but slippery enough for a
+      stout man whose nation has neglected his training. As Jinks waved his
+      stick in the air to illustrate the glory of a bayonet charge, he slipped
+      and fell sideways on the stone steps. His shin bone smacked against the
+      edge of the stone in a way that was pretty well up to the old Viking
+      standard of such things. Blinks with the shock of the collision fell also,&mdash;backwards
+      on the top step, his head striking first. He lay, to all appearance, as
+      dead as the most insignificant casualty in Servia.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I watched the waiters carrying them into the club, with that new field
+      ambulance attitude towards pain which is getting so popular. They had
+      evidently acquired precisely the old pagan attitude that Blinks and Jinks
+      desired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the evening after that I saw Blinks and Jinks, both more or less
+      bandaged, sitting in a corner of the club beneath a rubber tree, making
+      peace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jinks was moving out of Montenegro and Blinks was foregoing all claims to
+      Polish Prussia; Jinks was offering Alsace-Lorraine to Blinks, and Blinks
+      in a fit of chivalrous enthusiasm was refusing to take it. They were
+      disbanding troops, blowing up fortresses, sinking their warships and
+      offering indemnities which they both refused to take. Then as they talked,
+      Jinks leaned forward and said something to Blinks in a low voice,&mdash;a
+      final proposal of terms evidently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Blinks nodded, and Jinks turned and beckoned to a waiter, with the words,&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One Scotch whiskey and soda, and one stein of Wurtemburger Bier&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And when I heard this, I knew that the war was over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      8.&mdash;The Ground Floor
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      I hadn&rsquo;t seen Ellesworth since our college days, twenty years
+      before, at the time when he used to borrow two dollars and a half from the
+      professor of Public Finance to tide him over the week end.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then quite suddenly he turned up at the club one day and had afternoon tea
+      with me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His big clean shaven face had lost nothing of its impressiveness, and his
+      spectacles had the same glittering magnetism as in the days when he used
+      to get the college bursar to accept his note of hand for his fees.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And he was still talking European politics just as he used to in the days
+      of our earlier acquaintance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mark my words,&rdquo; he said across the little tea-table, with one
+      of the most piercing glances I have ever seen, &ldquo;the whole Balkan
+      situation was only a beginning. We are on the eve of a great pan-Slavonic
+      upheaval.&rdquo; And then he added, in a very quiet, casual tone: &ldquo;By
+      the way, could you let me have twenty-five dollars till to-morrow?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A pan-Slavonic movement!&rdquo; I ejaculated. &ldquo;Do you really
+      think it possible? No, I couldn&rsquo;t.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must remember,&rdquo; Ellesworth went on, &ldquo;Russia means
+      to reach out and take all she can get;&rdquo; and he added, &ldquo;how
+      about fifteen till Friday?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She may reach for it,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;but I doubt if she&rsquo;ll
+      get anything. I&rsquo;m sorry. I haven&rsquo;t got it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;re forgetting the Bulgarian element,&rdquo; he continued,
+      his animation just as eager as before. &ldquo;The Slavs never forget what
+      they owe to one another.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here Ellesworth drank a sip of tea and then said quietly, &ldquo;Could you
+      make it ten till Saturday at twelve?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I looked at him more closely. I noticed now his frayed cuffs and the
+      dinginess of his over-brushed clothes. Not even the magnetism of his
+      spectacles could conceal it. Perhaps I had been forgetting something,
+      whether the Bulgarian element or not.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I compromised at ten dollars till Saturday.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Slav,&rdquo; said Ellesworth, as he pocketed the money, &ldquo;is
+      peculiar. He never forgets.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you doing now?&rdquo; I asked him. &ldquo;Are you still in
+      insurance?&rdquo; I had a vague recollection of him as employed in that
+      business.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;I gave it up. I didn&rsquo;t like
+      the outlook. It was too narrow. The atmosphere cramped me. I want,&rdquo;
+      he said, &ldquo;a bigger horizon.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite so,&rdquo; I answered quietly. I had known men before who had
+      lost their jobs. It is generally the cramping of the atmosphere that does
+      it. Some of them can use up a tremendous lot of horizon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At present,&rdquo; Ellesworth went on, &ldquo;I am in finance. I&rsquo;m
+      promoting companies.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; I said. I had seen companies promoted before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just now,&rdquo; continued Ellesworth, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m working on
+      a thing that I think will be rather a big thing. I shouldn&rsquo;t want it
+      talked about outside, but it&rsquo;s a matter of taking hold of the cod
+      fisheries of the Grand Banks,&mdash;practically amalgamating them&mdash;and
+      perhaps combining with them the entire herring output, and the whole of
+      the sardine catch of the Mediterranean. If it goes through,&rdquo; he
+      added, &ldquo;I shall be in a position to let you in on the ground floor.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I knew the ground floor of old. I have already many friends sitting on it;
+      and others who have fallen through it into the basement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I said, &ldquo;thank you,&rdquo; and he left me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was Ellesworth, wasn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo; said a friend of mine
+      who was near me. &ldquo;Poor devil. I knew him slightly,&mdash;always full
+      of some new and wild idea of making money. He was talking to me the other
+      day of the possibility of cornering all the huckleberry crop and making
+      refined sugar. Isn&rsquo;t it amazing what fool ideas fellows like him are
+      always putting up to business men?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We both laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After that I didn&rsquo;t see Ellesworth for some weeks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then I met him in the club again. How he paid his fees there I do not
+      know.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This time he was seated among a litter of foreign newspapers with a cup of
+      tea and a ten-cent package of cigarettes beside him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have one of these cigarettes,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I get them
+      specially. They are milder than what we have in the club here.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They certainly were.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Note what I say,&rdquo; Ellesworth went on. &ldquo;The French
+      Republic is going to gain from now on a stability that it never had.&rdquo;
+      He seemed greatly excited about it. But his voice changed to a quiet tone
+      as he added, &ldquo;Could you, without inconvenience, let me have five
+      dollars?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So I knew that the cod-fish and the sardines were still unamalgamated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What about the fisheries thing?&rdquo; I asked. &ldquo;Did it go
+      through?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The fisheries? No, I gave it up. I refused to go forward with it.
+      The New York people concerned were too shy, too timid to tackle it. I
+      finally had to put it to them very straight that they must either stop
+      shilly-shallying and declare themselves, or the whole business was off.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did they declare themselves?&rdquo; I questioned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They did,&rdquo; said Ellesworth, &ldquo;but I don&rsquo;t regret
+      it. I&rsquo;m working now on a much bigger thing,&mdash;something with
+      greater possibilities in it. When the right moment comes I&rsquo;ll let
+      you in on the ground floor.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I thanked him and we parted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next time I saw Ellesworth he told me at once that he regarded Albania
+      as unable to stand by itself. So I gave him five dollars on the spot and
+      left him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A few days after that he called me up on the telephone to tell me that the
+      whole of Asia Minor would have to be redistributed. The redistribution
+      cost me five dollars more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then I met him on the street, and he said that Persia was disintegrating,
+      and took from me a dollar and a half.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When I passed him next in the street he was very busy amalgamating Chinese
+      tramways. It appeared that there was a ground floor in China, but I kept
+      off it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Each time I saw Ellesworth he looked a little shabbier than the last. Then
+      one day he called me up on the telephone, and made an appointment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His manner when I joined him was full of importance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want you at once,&rdquo; he said in a commanding tone, &ldquo;to
+      write me your cheque for a hundred dollars.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the matter?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am now able,&rdquo; said Ellesworth, &ldquo;to put you in on the
+      ground floor of one of the biggest things in years.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;the ground floor is no place for me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t misunderstand me,&rdquo; said Ellesworth. &ldquo;This
+      is a big thing. It&rsquo;s an idea I&rsquo;ve been working on for some
+      time,&mdash;making refined sugar from the huckleberry crop. It&rsquo;s a
+      certainty. I can get you shares now at five dollars. They&rsquo;ll go to
+      five hundred when we put them on the market,&mdash;and I can run you in
+      for a block of stock for promotion services as well. All you have to do is
+      to give me right now a hundred dollars,&mdash;cash or your cheque,&mdash;and
+      I can arrange the whole thing for you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Ellesworth,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;I hope you won&rsquo;t
+      mind if I give you a little bit of good advice. Why not drop all this idea
+      of quick money? There&rsquo;s nothing in it. The business world has grown
+      too shrewd for it. Take an ordinary decent job and stick to it. Let me use
+      my influence,&rdquo; I added, &ldquo;to try and get you into something
+      with a steady salary, and with your brains you&rsquo;re bound to get on in
+      time.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ellesworth looked pained. A &ldquo;steady job&rdquo; sounded to him like a
+      &ldquo;ground floor&rdquo; to me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After that I saw nothing of him for weeks. But I didn&rsquo;t forget him.
+      I looked about and secured for him a job as a canvassing agent for a book
+      firm at a salary of five dollars a week, and a commission of one-tenth of
+      one per cent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I was waiting to tell him of his good luck, when I chanced to see him at
+      the club again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But he looked transformed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had on a long frock coat that reached nearly to his knees. He was
+      leading a little procession of very heavy men in morning coats, upstairs
+      towards the private luncheon rooms. They moved like a funeral, puffing as
+      they went. I had seen company directors before and I knew what they were
+      at sight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a small club and rather inconvenient,&rdquo; Ellesworth
+      was saying, &ldquo;and the horizon of some of its members rather narrow,&rdquo;
+      here he nodded to me as he passed,&mdash;&ldquo;but I can give you a
+      fairly decent lunch.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I watched them as they disappeared upstairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s Ellesworth, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo; said a man near me.
+      It was the same man who had asked about him before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; I answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Giving a lunch to his directors, I suppose,&rdquo; said my friend;
+      &ldquo;lucky dog.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His directors?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, hadn&rsquo;t you heard? He&rsquo;s just cleaned up half a
+      million or more,&mdash;some new scheme for making refined sugar out of
+      huckleberries. Isn&rsquo;t it amazing what shrewd ideas these big business
+      men get hold of? They say they&rsquo;re unloading the stock at five
+      hundred dollars. It only cost them about five to organize. If only one
+      could get on to one of these things early enough, eh?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I assented sadly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the next time I am offered a chance on the ground floor I am going to
+      take it, even if it&rsquo;s only the barley floor of a brewery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It appears that there is such a place after all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      9.&mdash;The Hallucination of Mr. Butt
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It is the hallucination of Mr. Butt&rsquo;s life that he lives to do good.
+      At whatever cost of time or trouble to himself, he does it. Whether people
+      appear to desire it or not, he insists on helping them along.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His time, his company and his advice are at the service not only of those
+      who seek them but of those who, in the mere appearances of things, are not
+      asking for them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      You may see the beaming face of Mr. Butt appear at the door of all those
+      of his friends who are stricken with the minor troubles of life. Whenever
+      Mr. Butt learns that any of his friends are moving house, buying
+      furniture, selling furniture, looking for a maid, dismissing a maid,
+      seeking a chauffeur, suing a plumber or buying a piano,&mdash;he is at
+      their side in a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So when I met him one night in the cloak room of the club putting on his
+      raincoat and his galoshes with a peculiar beaming look on his face, I knew
+      that he was up to some sort of benevolence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come upstairs,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;and play billiards.&rdquo; I
+      saw from his general appearance that it was a perfectly safe offer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear fellow,&rdquo; said Mr. Butt, &ldquo;I only wish I could. I
+      wish I had the time. I am sure it would cheer you up immensely if I could.
+      But I&rsquo;m just going out.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are you off to?&rdquo; I asked, for I knew he wanted me to
+      say it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m going out to see the Everleigh-Joneses,&mdash;you know
+      them? no?&mdash;just come to the city, you know, moving into their new
+      house, out on Seldom Avenue.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;that&rsquo;s away out in the suburbs, is
+      it not, a mile or so beyond the car tracks?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Something like that,&rdquo; answered Mr. Butt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And it&rsquo;s going on for ten o&rsquo;clock and it&rsquo;s
+      starting to rain&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pooh, pooh,&rdquo; said Mr. Butt, cheerfully, adjusting his
+      galoshes. &ldquo;I never mind the rain,&mdash;does one good. As to their
+      house. I&rsquo;ve not been there yet but I can easily find it. I&rsquo;ve
+      a very simple system for finding a house at night by merely knocking at
+      the doors in the neighborhood till I get it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t it rather late to go there?&rdquo; I protested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear fellow,&rdquo; said Mr. Butt warmly, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t
+      mind that a bit. The way I look at it is, here are these two young people,
+      only married a few weeks, just moving into their new house, everything
+      probably upside down, no one there but themselves, no one to cheer them
+      up,&rdquo;&mdash;he was wriggling into his raincoat as he spoke and
+      working himself into a frenzy of benevolence,&mdash;&ldquo;good gracious,
+      I only learned at dinner time that they had come to town, or I&rsquo;d
+      have been out there days ago,&mdash;days ago&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And with that Mr. Butt went bursting forth into the rain, his face shining
+      with good will under the street lamps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next day I saw him again at the club at lunch time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; I asked, &ldquo;did you find the Joneses?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did,&rdquo; said Mr. Butt, &ldquo;and by George I was glad that I&rsquo;d
+      gone&mdash;quite a lot of trouble to find the house (though I didn&rsquo;t
+      mind that; I expected it)&mdash;had to knock at twenty houses at least to
+      get it,&mdash;very dark and wet out there, &mdash;no street lights yet,&mdash;however
+      I simply pounded at the doors until some one showed a light&mdash;at every
+      house I called out the same things, &lsquo;Do you know where the Everleigh
+      Joneses live?&rsquo; They didn&rsquo;t. &lsquo;All right,&rsquo; I said,
+      &lsquo;go back to bed. Don&rsquo;t bother to come down.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I got to the right spot at last. I found the house all dark.
+      Jones put his head out of an upper window. Hullo,&rsquo; I called out;
+      &lsquo;it&rsquo;s Butt.&rsquo; &lsquo;I&rsquo;m awfully sorry,&rsquo; he
+      said, &lsquo;we&rsquo;ve gone to bed.&rsquo; &lsquo;My dear boy,&rsquo; I
+      called back, &lsquo;don&rsquo;t apologize at all. Throw me down the key
+      and I&rsquo;ll wait while you dress. I don&rsquo;t mind a bit.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just think of it,&rdquo; continued Mr. Butt, &ldquo;those two poor
+      souls going to bed at half past ten, through sheer dullness! By George, I
+      was glad I&rsquo;d come. &lsquo;Now then,&rsquo; I said to myself, &lsquo;let&rsquo;s
+      cheer them up a little, let&rsquo;s make things a little brighter here.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, down they came and we sat there on furniture cases and things
+      and had a chat. Mrs. Jones wanted to make me some coffee. &lsquo;My dear
+      girl,&rsquo; I said (I knew them both when they were children) &lsquo;I
+      absolutely refuse. Let ME make it.&rsquo; They protested. I insisted. I
+      went at it,&mdash;kitchen all upset&mdash;had to open at least twenty tins
+      to get the coffee. However, I made it at last. &lsquo;Now,&rsquo; I said,
+      &lsquo;drink it.&rsquo; They said they had some an hour or so ago. &lsquo;Nonsense,&rsquo;
+      I said, &lsquo;drink it.&rsquo; Well, we sat and chatted away till
+      midnight. They were dull at first and I had to do all the talking. But I
+      set myself to it. I can talk, you know, when I try. Presently about
+      midnight they seemed to brighten up a little. Jones looked at his watch.
+      &lsquo;By Jove,&rsquo; he said, in an animated way, &lsquo;it&rsquo;s
+      after midnight.&rsquo; I think he was pleased at the way the evening was
+      going; after that we chatted away more comfortably. Every little while
+      Jones would say, &lsquo;By Jove, it&rsquo;s half past twelve,&rsquo; or
+      &lsquo;it&rsquo;s one o&rsquo;clock,&rsquo; and so on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I took care, of course, not to stay too late. But when I left them
+      I promised that I&rsquo;d come back to-day to help straighten things up.
+      They protested, but I insisted.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That same day Mr. Butt went out to the suburbs and put the Joneses&rsquo;
+      furniture to rights.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I worked all afternoon,&rdquo; he told me afterwards,&mdash;&ldquo;hard
+      at it with my coat off&mdash;got the pictures up first&mdash;they&rsquo;d
+      been trying to put them up by themselves in the morning. I had to take
+      down every one of them&mdash;not a single one right,&mdash;&lsquo;Down
+      they come,&rsquo; I said, and went at it with a will.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A few days later Mr. Butt gave me a further report. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he
+      said, &ldquo;the furniture is all unpacked and straightened out but I don&rsquo;t
+      like it. There&rsquo;s a lot of it I don&rsquo;t quite like. I half feel
+      like advising Jones to sell it and get some more. But I don&rsquo;t want
+      to do that till I&rsquo;m quite certain about it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After that Mr. Butt seemed much occupied and I didn&rsquo;t see him at the
+      club for some time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How about the Everleigh-Joneses?&rdquo; I asked. &ldquo;Are they
+      comfortable in their new house?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Butt shook his head. &ldquo;It won&rsquo;t do,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I
+      was afraid of it from the first. I&rsquo;m moving Jones in nearer to town.
+      I&rsquo;ve been out all morning looking for an apartment; when I get the
+      right one I shall move him. I like an apartment far better than a house.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So the Joneses in due course of time were moved. After that Mr. Butt was
+      very busy selecting a piano, and advising them on wall paper and woodwork.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were hardly settled in their new home when fresh trouble came to
+      them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you heard about Everleigh-Jones?&rdquo; said Mr. Butt one day
+      with an anxious face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; I answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He&rsquo;s ill&mdash;some sort of fever&mdash;poor chap&mdash;been
+      ill three days, and they never told me or sent for me&mdash;just like
+      their grit&mdash;meant to fight it out alone. I&rsquo;m going out there at
+      once.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From day to day I had reports from Mr. Butt of the progress of Jones&rsquo;s
+      illness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I sit with him every day,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Poor chap,&mdash;he
+      was very bad yesterday for a while,&mdash;mind wandered&mdash;quite
+      delirious&mdash;I could hear him from the next room&mdash;seemed to think
+      some one was hunting him&mdash;&lsquo;Is that damn old fool gone,&rsquo; I
+      heard him say.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I went in and soothed him. &lsquo;There is no one here, my dear
+      boy,&rsquo; I said, &lsquo;no one, only Butt.&rsquo; He turned over and
+      groaned. Mrs. Jones begged me to leave him. &lsquo;You look quite used up,&rsquo;
+      she said. &lsquo;Go out into the open air.&rsquo; &lsquo;My dear Mrs.
+      Jones,&rsquo; I said, &lsquo;what DOES it matter about me?&rsquo;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Eventually, thanks no doubt to Mr. Butt&rsquo;s assiduous care,
+      Everleigh-Jones got well.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Mr. Butt to me a few weeks later, &ldquo;Jones is
+      all right again now, but his illness has been a long hard pull. I haven&rsquo;t
+      had an evening to myself since it began. But I&rsquo;m paid, sir, now,
+      more than paid for anything I&rsquo;ve done,&mdash;the gratitude of those
+      two people&mdash;it&rsquo;s unbelievable &mdash;you ought to see it. Why
+      do you know that dear little woman is so worried for fear that my strength
+      has been overtaxed that she wants me to take a complete rest and go on a
+      long trip somewhere&mdash;suggested first that I should go south. &lsquo;My
+      dear Mrs. Jones,&rsquo; I said laughing, &lsquo;that&rsquo;s the ONE place
+      I will not go. Heat is the one thing I CAN&rsquo;T stand.&rsquo; She wasn&rsquo;t
+      nonplussed for a moment. &lsquo;Then go north,&rsquo; she said. &lsquo;Go
+      up to Canada, or better still go to Labrador,&rsquo;&mdash;and in a minute
+      that kind little woman was hunting up railway maps to see how far north I
+      could get by rail. &lsquo;After that,&rsquo; she said, &lsquo;you can go
+      on snowshoes.&rsquo; She&rsquo;s found that there&rsquo;s a steamer to
+      Ungava every spring and she wants me to run up there on one steamer and
+      come back on the next.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It must be very gratifying,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, it is, it is,&rdquo; said Mr. Butt warmly. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s
+      well worth anything I do. It more than repays me. I&rsquo;m alone in the
+      world and my friends are all I have. I can&rsquo;t tell you how it goes to
+      my heart when I think of all my friends, here in the club and in the town,
+      always glad to see me, always protesting against my little kindnesses and
+      yet never quite satisfied about anything unless they can get my advice and
+      hear what I have to say.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take Jones for instance,&rdquo; he continued&mdash;&ldquo;do you
+      know, really now as a fact,&mdash;the hall porter assures me of it,&mdash;every
+      time Everleigh-Jones enters the club here the first thing he does is to
+      sing out, &lsquo;Is Mr. Butt in the club?&rsquo; It warms me to think of
+      it.&rdquo; Mr. Butt paused, one would have said there were tears in his
+      eyes. But if so the kindly beam of his spectacles shone through them like
+      the sun through April rain. He left me and passed into the cloak room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had just left the hall when a stranger entered, a narrow, meek man with
+      a hunted face. He came in with a furtive step and looked about him
+      apprehensively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is Mr. Butt in the club?&rdquo; he whispered to the hall porter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir, he&rsquo;s just gone into the cloak room, sir, shall I&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the man had turned and made a dive for the front door and had
+      vanished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is that?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s a new member, sir, Mr. Everleigh-Jones,&rdquo; said
+      the hall porter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      IV-RAM SPUDD THE NEW WORLD SINGER.
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      Is He Divinely Inspired? Or Is He Not? At Any Rate We Discovered Him.
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      [Footnote: Mr. Spudd was discovered by the author for the New York Life.
+      He is already recognized as superior to Tennyson and second only, as a
+      writer of imagination, to the Sultan of Turkey.]
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The discovery of a new poet is always a joy to the cultivated world. It is
+      therefore with the greatest pleasure that we are able to announce that we
+      ourselves, acting quite independently and without aid from any of the
+      English reviews of the day, have discovered one. In the person of Mr. Ram
+      Spudd, of whose work we give specimens below, we feel that we reveal to
+      our readers a genius of the first order. Unlike one of the most recently
+      discovered English poets who is a Bengalee, and another who is a
+      full-blooded Yak, Mr. Spudd is, we believe, a Navajo Indian. We believe
+      this from the character of his verse. Mr. Spudd himself we have not seen.
+      But when he forwarded his poems to our office and offered with
+      characteristic modesty to sell us his entire works for seventy-five cents,
+      we felt in closing with his offer that we were dealing not only with a
+      poet, but with one of nature&rsquo;s gentlemen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Spudd, we understand, has had no education. Other newly discovered
+      poets have had, apparently, some. Mr. Spudd has had, evidently, none. We
+      lay stress on this point. Without it we claim it is impossible to
+      understand his work.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What we particularly like about Ram Spudd, and we do not say this because
+      we discovered him but because we believe it and must say it, is that he
+      belongs not to one school but to all of them. As a nature poet we doubt
+      very much if he has his equal; as a psychologist, we are sure he has not.
+      As a clear lucid thinker he is undoubtedly in the first rank; while as a
+      mystic he is a long way in front of it. The specimens of Mr. Spudd&rsquo;s
+      verse which we append herewith were selected, we are happy to assure our
+      readers, purely at random from his work. We first blindfolded ourselves
+      and then, standing with our feet in warm water and having one hand tied
+      behind our back, we groped among the papers on our desk before us and
+      selected for our purpose whatever specimens first came to hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As we have said, or did we say it, it is perhaps as a nature poet that Ram
+      Spudd excels. Others of our modern school have carried the observation of
+      natural objects to a high degree of very nice precision, but with Mr.
+      Spudd the observation of nature becomes an almost scientific process.
+      Nothing escapes him. The green of the grass he detects as in an instant.
+      The sky is no sooner blue than he remarks it with unerring certainty.
+      Every bird note, every bee call, is familiar to his trained ear. Perhaps
+      we cannot do better than quote the opening lines of a singularly beautiful
+      sample of Ram Spudd&rsquo;s genius which seems to us the last word in
+      nature poetry. It is called, with characteristic daintiness&mdash;
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+      SPRING THAW IN THE
+   AHUNTSIC WOODS, NEAR PASPEBIAC,
+      PASSAMOQUODDY COUNTY
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      (We would like to say that, to our ears at least, there is a music in this
+      title like the sound of falling water, or of chopped ice. But we must not
+      interrupt ourselves. We now begin. Listen.)
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ The thermometer is standing this morning at thirty-
+   three decimal one.
+ As a consequence it is freezing in the shade, but
+   it is thawing in the sun.
+ There is a certain amount of snow on the ground,
+   but of course not too much.
+ The air is what you would call humid, but not
+   disagreeable to the touch.
+ Where I am standing I find myself practically
+   surrounded by trees,
+ It is simply astonishing the number of the different
+   varieties one sees.
+ I&rsquo;ve grown so wise I can tell each different tree
+   by seeing it glisten,
+ But if that test fails I simply put my ear to the
+   tree and listen,
+ And, well, I suppose it is only a silly fancy of
+   mine perhaps,
+ But do you know I&rsquo;m getting to tell different trees
+   by the sound of their saps.
+ After I have noticed all the trees, and named those
+   I know in words,
+ I stand quite still and look all round to see if
+   there are any birds,
+ And yesterday, close where I was standing, sitting
+   in some brush on the snow,
+ I saw what I was practically absolutely certain was
+   an early crow.
+ I sneaked up ever so close and was nearly beside
+   it, when say!
+ It turned and took one look at me, and flew away.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      But we should not wish our readers to think that Ram Spudd is always and
+      only the contemplative poet of the softer aspects of nature. Oh, by no
+      means. There are times when waves of passion sweep over him in such
+      prodigious volume as to roll him to and fro like a pebble in the surf.
+      Gusts of emotion blow over him with such violence as to hurl him pro and
+      con with inconceivable fury. In such moods, if it were not for the relief
+      offered by writing verse we really do not know what would happen to him.
+      His verse written under the impulse of such emotions marks him as one of
+      the greatest masters of passion, wild and yet restrained, objectionable
+      and yet printable, that have appeared on this side of the Atlantic. We
+      append herewith a portion, or half portion, of his little gem entitled
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+   YOU
+
+   You!
+ With your warm, full, rich, red, ripe lips,
+ And your beautifully manicured finger-tips!
+   You!
+ With your heaving, panting, rapidly expanding and
+   contracting chest,
+ Lying against my perfectly ordinary shirt-front and
+   dinner-jacket vest.
+      It is too much
+      Your touch
+      As such.
+      It and
+      Your hand,
+   Can you not understand?
+ Last night an ostrich feather from your fragrant hair
+      Unnoticed fell.
+      I guard it
+      Well.
+      Yestere&rsquo;en
+   From your tiara I have slid,
+      Unseen,
+      A single diamond,
+      And I keep it
+      Hid.
+ Last night you left inside the vestibule upon the sill
+      A quarter dollar,
+      And I have it
+      Still.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      But even those who know Ram Spudd as the poet of nature or of passion
+      still only know a part of his genius. Some of his highest flights rise
+      from an entirely different inspiration, and deal with the public affairs
+      of the nation. They are in every sense comparable to the best work of the
+      poets laureate of England dealing with similar themes. As soon as we had
+      seen Ram Spudd&rsquo;s work of this kind, we cried, that is we said to our
+      stenographer, &ldquo;What a pity that in this republic we have no
+      laureateship. Here is a man who might truly fill it.&rdquo; Of the poem of
+      this kind we should wish to quote, if our limits of space did not prevent
+      it, Mr. Spudd&rsquo;s exquisite
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+   ODE ON THE REDUCTION OF THE
+      UNITED STATES TARIFF
+
+ It is a matter of the very gravest concern to at least
+   nine-tenths of the business interests in the
+   United States,
+ Whether an all-round reduction of the present tariff
+   either on an ad valorem or a specific basis
+ Could be effected without a serious disturbance of the
+   general industrial situation of the country.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      But, no, we must not quote any more. No we really mustn&rsquo;t. Yet we
+      cannot refrain from inserting a reference to the latest of these laureate
+      poems of Ram Spudd. It appears to us to be a matchless specimen of its
+      class, and to settle once and for all the vexed question (though we
+      ourselves never vexed it) of whether true poetry can deal with national
+      occasions as they arise. It is entitled:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+   THE BANKER&rsquo;S EUTHANASIA: OR,
+   THE FEDERAL RESERVE CURRENCY
+      ACT OF 1914,
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      and, though we do not propose to reproduce it here, our distinct feeling
+      is that it will take its rank beside Mr. Spudd&rsquo;s Elegy on the
+      Interstate Commerce Act, and his Thoughts on the Proposal of a Uniform
+      Pure Food Law.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But our space does not allow us to present Ram Spudd in what is after all
+      his greatest aspect, that of a profound psychologist, a questioner of the
+      very meaning of life itself. His poem Death and Gloom, from which we must
+      refrain from quoting at large, contains such striking passages as the
+      following:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+   Why do I breathe, or do I?
+   What am I for, and whither do I go?
+   What skills it if I live, and if I die,
+      What boots it?
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Any one knowing Ram Spudd as we do will realize that these questions,
+      especially the last, are practically unanswerable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      V.&mdash;ARISTOCRATIC ANECDOTES OR LITTLE STORIES OF GREAT
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      PEOPLE
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      I have been much struck lately by the many excellent little anecdotes of
+      celebrated people that have appeared in recent memoirs and found their way
+      thence into the columns of the daily press. There is something about them
+      so deliciously pointed, their humour is so exquisite, that I think we
+      ought to have more of them. To this end I am trying to circulate on my own
+      account a few anecdotes which seem somehow to have been overlooked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here, for example, is an excellent thing which comes, if I remember
+      rightly, from the vivacious Memoir of Lady Ranelagh de Chit Chat.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      ANECDOTE OF THE DUKE OF STRATHYTHAN
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Lady Ranelagh writes:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ &ldquo;The Duke of Strathythan (I am writing of course of the
+ seventeenth Duke, not of his present Grace) was, as
+ everybody knows, famous for his hospitality.  It was not
+ perhaps generally known that the Duke was as witty as he
+ was hospitable. I recall a most amusing incident that
+ happened the last time but two that I was staying at
+ Strathythan Towers. As we sat down to lunch (we were a
+ very small and intimate party, there being only forty-three
+ of us) the Duke, who was at the head of the table, looked
+ up from the roast of beef that he was carving, and running
+ his eye about the guests was heard to murmur, &lsquo;I&rsquo;m afraid
+ there isn&rsquo;t enough beef to go round.&rsquo;
+
+ &ldquo;There was nothing to do, of course, but to roar with
+ laughter and the incident passed off with perfect savoir
+ faire.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Here is another story which I think has not had all the publicity that it
+      ought to. I found it in the book &ldquo;Shot, Shell and Shrapnell or Sixty
+      Years as a War Correspondent,&rdquo; recently written by Mr. Maxim Catling
+      whose exploits are familiar to all readers.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      ANECDOTE OF LORD KITCHENER
+    </h3>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ &ldquo;I was standing,&rdquo; writes Mr. Maxim, &ldquo;immediately between
+ Lord Kitchener and Lord Wolsley (with Lord Roberts a
+ little to the rear of us), and we were laughing and
+ chatting as we always did when the enemy were about to
+ open fire on us. Suddenly we found ourselves the object
+ of the most terrific hail of bullets. For a few moments
+ the air was black with them. As they went past I could
+ not refrain from exchanging a quiet smile with Lord
+ Kitchener, and another with Lord Wolsley. Indeed I have
+ never, except perhaps on twenty or thirty occasions,
+ found myself exposed to such an awful fusillade.
+
+ &ldquo;Kitchener, who habitually uses an eye-glass (among his
+ friends), watched the bullets go singing by, and then,
+ with that inimitable sangfroid which he reserves for his
+ intimates, said,
+
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;I&rsquo;m afraid if we stay here we may get hit.&rsquo;
+
+ &ldquo;We all moved away laughing heartily.
+
+ &ldquo;To add to the joke, Lord Roberts&rsquo; aide-de-camp was shot
+ in the pit of the stomach as we went.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      The next anecdote which I reproduce may be already too well known to my
+      readers. The career of Baron Snorch filled so large a page in the history
+      of European diplomacy that the publication of his recent memoirs was
+      awaited with profound interest by half the chancelleries of Europe. (Even
+      the other half were half excited over them.) The tangled skein in which
+      the politics of Europe are enveloped was perhaps never better illustrated
+      than in this fascinating volume. Even at the risk of repeating what is
+      already familiar, I offer the following for what it is worth&mdash;or even
+      less.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      NEW LIGHT ON THE LIFE OF CAVOUR
+    </h3>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ &ldquo;I have always regarded Count Cavour,&rdquo; writes the Baron,
+ &ldquo;as one of the most impenetrable diplomatists whom it
+ has been my lot to meet. I distinctly recall an incident
+ in connection with the famous Congress of Paris of 1856
+ which rises before my mind as vividly as if it were
+ yesterday. I was seated in one of the large salons of
+ the Elysee Palace (I often used to sit there) playing
+ vingt-et-un together with Count Cavour, the Duc de Magenta,
+ the Marquese di Casa Mombasa, the Conte di Piccolo Pochito
+ and others whose names I do not recollect. The stakes
+ had been, as usual, very high, and there was a large pile
+ of gold on the table. No one of us, however, paid any
+ attention to it, so absorbed were we all in the thought
+ of the momentous crises that were impending. At intervals
+ the Emperor Napoleon III passed in and out of the room,
+ and paused to say a word or two, with well-feigned
+ eloignement, to the players, who replied with such
+ degagement as they could.
+
+ &ldquo;While the play was at its height a servant appeared with
+ a telegram on a silver tray. He handed it to Count Cavour.
+ The Count paused in his play, opened the telegram, read
+ it and then with the most inconceivable nonchalance, put
+ it in his pocket. We stared at him in amazement for a
+ moment, and then the Duc, with the infinite ease of a
+ trained diplomat, quietly resumed his play.
+
+ &ldquo;Two days afterward, meeting Count Cavour at a reception
+ of the Empress Eugenie, I was able, unobserved, to whisper
+ in his ear, &lsquo;What was in the telegram?&rsquo; &lsquo;Nothing of any
+ consequence,&rsquo; he answered.  From that day to this I have
+ never known what it contained. My readers,&rdquo; concludes
+ Baron Snorch, &ldquo;may believe this or not as they like, but
+ I give them my word that it is true.
+
+ &ldquo;Probably they will not believe it.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      I cannot resist appending to these anecdotes a charming little story from
+      that well-known book, &ldquo;Sorrows of a Queen&rdquo;. The writer, Lady
+      de Weary, was an English gentlewoman who was for many years Mistress of
+      the Robes at one of the best known German courts. Her affection for her
+      royal mistress is evident on every page of her memoirs.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      TENDERNESS OF A QUEEN
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Lady de W. writes:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ &ldquo;My dear mistress, the late Queen of Saxe-Covia-Slitz-
+ in-Mein, was of a most tender and sympathetic disposition.
+ The goodness of her heart broke forth on all occasions.
+ I well remember how one day, on seeing a cabman in the
+ Poodel Platz kicking his horse in the stomach, she stopped
+ in her walk and said, &lsquo;Oh, poor horse! if he goes on
+ kicking it like that he&rsquo;ll hurt it.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      I may say in conclusion that I think if people would only take a little
+      more pains to resuscitate anecdotes of this sort, there might be a lot
+      more of them found.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      VI.&mdash;EDUCATION MADE AGREEABLE OR THE DIVERSIONS OF A
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      PROFESSOR
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      A few days ago during a pause in one of my college lectures (my class
+      being asleep) I sat reading Draper&rsquo;s &ldquo;Intellectual Development
+      of Europe&rdquo;. Quite suddenly I came upon the following sentence:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eratosthenes cast everything he wished to teach into poetry. By
+      this means he made it attractive, and he was able to spread his system all
+      over Asia Minor.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This came to me with a shock of an intellectual discovery. I saw at once
+      how I could spread my system, or parts of it, all over the United States
+      and Canada. To make education attractive! There it is! To call in the help
+      of poetry, of music, of grand opera, if need be, to aid in the teaching of
+      the dry subjects of the college class room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I set to work at once on the project and already I have enough results to
+      revolutionize education.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the first place I have compounded a blend of modern poetry and
+      mathematics, which retains all the romance of the latter and loses none of
+      the dry accuracy of the former. Here is an example:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+      The poem of
+   LORD ULLIN&rsquo;S DAUGHTER
+      expressed as
+   A PROBLEM IN TRIGONOMETRY
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      INTRODUCTION. A party of three persons, a Scotch nobleman, a young lady
+      and an elderly boatman stand on the banks of a river (R), which, for
+      private reasons, they desire to cross. Their only means of transport is a
+      boat, of which the boatman, if squared, is able to row at a rate
+      proportional to the square of the distance. The boat, however, has a leak
+      (S), through which a quantity of water passes sufficient to sink it after
+      traversing an indeterminate distance (D). Given the square of the boatman
+      and the mean situation of all concerned, to find whether the boat will
+      pass the river safely or sink.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+   A chieftain to the Highlands bound
+      Cried &ldquo;Boatman do not tarry!
+   And I&rsquo;ll give you a silver pound
+      To row me o&rsquo;er the ferry.&rdquo;
+    Before them raged the angry tide
+   X**2 + Y from side to side.
+
+   Outspake the hardy Highland wight,
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll go, my chief, I&rsquo;m ready;
+   It is not for your silver bright,
+      But for your winsome lady.&rdquo;
+    And yet he seemed to manifest
+      A certain hesitation;
+   His head was sunk upon his breast
+      In puzzled calculation.
+
+   &ldquo;Suppose the river X + Y
+   And call the distance Q
+   Then dare we thus the gods defy
+   I think we dare, don&rsquo;t you?
+      Our floating power expressed in words
+      Is X + 47/3&rdquo;
+
+   &ldquo;Oh, haste thee, haste,&rdquo; the lady cries,
+   &ldquo;Though tempests round us gather
+   I&rsquo;ll face the raging of the skies
+   But please cut out the Algebra.&rdquo;
+
+   The boat has left the stormy shore (S)
+   A stormy C before her
+   C1 C2 C3 C4
+   The tempest gathers o&rsquo;er her
+      The thunder rolls, the lightning smites &lsquo;em
+      And the rain falls ad infinitum.
+
+   In vain the aged boatman strains,
+   His heaving sides reveal his pains;
+   The angry water gains apace
+   Both of his sides and half his base,
+      Till, as he sits, he seems to lose
+      The square of his hypotenuse.
+
+   The boat advanced to X + 2,
+   Lord Ullin reached the fixed point Q,&mdash;
+      Then the boat sank from human eye,
+   OY, OY**2, OGY.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      But this is only a sample of what can be done. I have realised that all
+      our technical books are written and presented in too dry a fashion. They
+      don&rsquo;t make the most of themselves. Very often the situation implied
+      is intensely sensational, and if set out after the fashion of an
+      up-to-date newspaper, would be wonderfully effective.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here, for example, you have Euclid writing in a perfectly prosaic way all
+      in small type such an item as the following:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A perpendicular is let fall on a line BC so as to bisect it at the
+      point C etc., etc.,&rdquo; just as if it were the most ordinary occurrence
+      in the world. Every newspaper man will see at once that it ought to be set
+      up thus:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+      AWFUL CATASTROPHE
+   PERPENDICULAR FALLS HEADLONG
+      ON A GIVEN POINT
+
+   The Line at C said to be completely bisected
+   President of the Line makes Statement
+      etc., etc., etc.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      But I am not contenting myself with merely describing my system. I am
+      putting it to the test. I am preparing a new and very special edition of
+      my friend Professor Daniel Murray&rsquo;s work on the Calculus. This is a
+      book little known to the general public. I suppose one may say without
+      exaggeration that outside of the class room it is hardly read at all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Yet I venture to say that when my new edition is out it will be found on
+      the tables of every cultivated home, and will be among the best sellers of
+      the year. All that is needed is to give to this really monumental book the
+      same chance that is given to every other work of fiction in the modern
+      market.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      First of all I wrap it in what is called technically a jacket. This is of
+      white enamelled paper, and on it is a picture of a girl, a very pretty
+      girl, in a summer dress and sunbonnet sitting swinging on a bough of a
+      cherry tree. Across the cover in big black letters are the words:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+   THE CALCULUS
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      and beneath them the legend &ldquo;the most daring book of the day.&rdquo;
+      This, you will observe, is perfectly true. The reviewers of the
+      mathematical journals when this book first came out agreed that &ldquo;Professor
+      Murray&rsquo;s views on the Calculus were the most daring yet published.&rdquo;
+      They said, too, that they hoped that the professor&rsquo;s unsound
+      theories of infinitesimal rectitude would not remain unchallenged. Yet the
+      public somehow missed it all, and one of the most profitable scandals in
+      the publishing trade was missed for the lack of a little business
+      enterprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      My new edition will give this book its first real chance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I admit that the inside has to be altered,&mdash;but not very much. The
+      real basis of interest is there. The theories in the book are just as
+      interesting as those raised in the modern novel. All that is needed is to
+      adopt the device, familiar in novels, of clothing the theories in personal
+      form and putting the propositions advanced into the mouths of the
+      characters, instead of leaving them as unsupported statements of the
+      author. Take for example Dr. Murray&rsquo;s beginning. It is very good,&mdash;any
+      one will admit it,&mdash;fascinatingly clever, but it lacks heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It runs:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ If two magnitudes, one of which is determined by a straight
+ line and the other by a parabola approach one another,
+ the rectangle included by the revolution of each will be
+ equal to the sum of a series of indeterminate rectangles.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Now this is,&mdash;quite frankly,&mdash;dull. The situation is there; the
+      idea is good, and, whether one agrees or not, is at least as brilliantly
+      original as even the best of our recent novels. But I find it necessary to
+      alter the presentation of the plot a little bit. As I re-edit it the
+      opening of the Calculus runs thus:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ On a bright morning in June along a path gay with the
+ opening efflorescence of the hibiscus and entangled here
+ and there with the wild blossoms of the convolvulus,&mdash;two
+ magnitudes might have been seen approaching one another.
+ The one magnitude who held a tennis-racket in his hand,
+ carried himself with a beautiful erectness and moved
+ with a firmness such as would have led Professor Murray
+ to exclaim in despair&mdash;Let it be granted that A. B.
+ (for such was our hero&rsquo;s name) is a straight line. The
+ other magnitude, which drew near with a step at once
+ elusive and fascinating, revealed as she walked a figure
+ so exquisite in its every curve as to call from her
+ geometrical acquaintances the ecstatic exclamation, &ldquo;Let
+ it be granted that M is a parabola.&rdquo;
+
+ The beautiful magnitude of whom we have last spoken,
+ bore on her arm as she walked, a tiny dog over which
+ her fair head was bent in endearing caresses; indeed
+ such was her attention to the dog Vi (his full name was
+ Velocity but he was called Vi for short) that her wayward
+ footsteps carried her not in a straight line but in a
+ direction so constantly changing as to lead that acute
+ observer, Professor Murray, to the conclusion that her
+ path could only be described by the amount of attraction
+ ascribable to Vi.
+
+ Guided thus along their respective paths, the two
+ magnitudes presently met with such suddenness that they
+ almost intersected.
+
+ &ldquo;I beg your pardon,&rdquo; said the first magnitude very
+ rigidly.
+
+ &ldquo;You ought to indeed,&rdquo; said the second rather sulkily,
+ &ldquo;you&rsquo;ve knocked Vi right out of my arms.&rdquo;
+
+ She looked round despairingly for the little dog which
+ seemed to have disappeared in the long grass.
+
+ &ldquo;Won&rsquo;t you please pick him up?&rdquo; she pleaded.
+
+ &ldquo;Not exactly in my line, you know,&rdquo; answered the other
+ magnitude, &ldquo;but I tell you what I&rsquo;ll do, if you&rsquo;ll stand
+ still, perfectly still where you are, and let me take
+ hold of your hand, I&rsquo;ll describe a circle!&rdquo;
+
+ &ldquo;Oh, aren&rsquo;t you clever!&rdquo; cried the girl, clapping her
+ hands. &ldquo;What a lovely idea! You describe a circle all
+ around me, and then we&rsquo;ll look at every weeny bit of it
+ and we&rsquo;ll be sure to find Vi&mdash;&rdquo;
+
+ She reached out her hand to the other magnitude who
+ clasped it with an assumed intensity sufficient to retain
+ it.
+
+ At this moment a third magnitude broke on the scene:&mdash;a
+ huge oblong, angular figure, very difficult to describe,
+ came revolving towards them.
+
+ &ldquo;M,&rdquo; it shouted, &ldquo;Emily, what are you doing?&rdquo;
+
+ &ldquo;My goodness,&rdquo; said the second magnitude in alarm, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s
+ MAMA.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      I may say that the second instalment of Dr. Murray&rsquo;s fascinating
+      romance will appear in the next number of the &ldquo;Illuminated Bookworm&rdquo;,
+      the great adult-juvenile vehicle of the newer thought in which these
+      theories of education are expounded further.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      VII.&mdash;AN EVERY-DAY EXPERIENCE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      He came across to me in the semi-silence room of the club.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had a rather queer hand at bridge last night,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Had you?&rdquo; I answered, and picked up a newspaper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. It would have interested you, I think,&rdquo; he went on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would it?&rdquo; I said, and moved to another chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was like this,&rdquo; he continued, following me: &ldquo;I held
+      the king of hearts&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Half a minute,&rdquo; I said; &ldquo;I want to go and see what time
+      it is.&rdquo; I went out and looked at the clock in the hall. I came back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the queen and the ten&mdash;&rdquo; he was saying.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Excuse me just a second; I want to ring for a messenger.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I did so. The waiter came and went.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the nine and two small ones,&rdquo; he went on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Two small what?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Two small hearts,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t remember
+      which. Anyway, I remember very well indeed that I had the king and the
+      queen and the jack, the nine, and two little ones.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Half a second,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;I want to mail a letter.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When I came back to him, he was still murmuring:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My partner held the ace of clubs and the queen. The jack was out,
+      but I didn&rsquo;t know where the king was&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You didn&rsquo;t?&rdquo; I said in contempt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he repeated in surprise, and went on murmuring:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Diamonds had gone round once, and spades twice, and so I suspected
+      that my partner was leading from weakness&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can well believe it,&rdquo; I said&mdash;&ldquo;sheer weakness.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;on the sixth round the lead came to
+      me. Now, what should I have done? Finessed for the ace, or led straight
+      into my opponent&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You want my advice,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;and you shall have it,
+      openly and fairly. In such a case as you describe, where a man has led out
+      at me repeatedly and with provocation, as I gather from what you say,
+      though I myself do not play bridge, I should lead my whole hand at him. I
+      repeat, I do not play bridge. But in the circumstances, I should think it
+      the only thing to do.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      VIII&mdash;TRUTHFUL ORATORY
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      or What Our Speakers Ought to Say
+    </h3>
+    <h3>
+      I
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      TRUTHFUL SPEECH GIVING THE REAL THOUGHTS OF A DISTINGUISHED GUEST AT THE
+      FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY BANQUET OF A SOCIETY
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Chairman and gentlemen: If there is one thing I abominate more than
+      another, it is turning out on a cold night like this to eat a huge dinner
+      of twelve courses and know that I have to make a speech on top of it.
+      Gentlemen, I just feel stuffed. That&rsquo;s the plain truth of it. By the
+      time we had finished that fish, I could have gone home satisfied. Honestly
+      I could. That&rsquo;s as much as I usually eat. And by the time I had
+      finished the rest of the food, I felt simply waterlogged, and I do still.
+      More than that. The knowledge that I had to make a speech congratulating
+      this society of yours on its fiftieth anniversary haunted and racked me
+      all through the meal. I am not, in plain truth, the ready and brilliant
+      speaker you take me for. That is a pure myth. If you could see the
+      desperate home scene that goes on in my family when I am working up a
+      speech, your minds would be at rest on that point.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I&rsquo;ll go further and be very frank with you. How this society has
+      lived for fifty years, I don&rsquo;t know. If all your dinners are like
+      this, Heaven help you. I&rsquo;ve only the vaguest idea of what this
+      society is, anyway, and what it does. I tried to get a constitution this
+      afternoon but failed. I am sure from some of the faces that I recognise
+      around this table that there must be good business reasons of some sort
+      for belonging to this society. There&rsquo;s money in it,&mdash;mark my
+      words,&mdash;for some of you or you wouldn&rsquo;t be here. Of course I
+      quite understand that the President and the officials seated here beside
+      me come merely for the self-importance of it. That, gentlemen, is about
+      their size. I realized that from their talk during the banquet. I don&rsquo;t
+      want to speak bitterly, but the truth is they are SMALL men and it
+      flatters them to sit here with two or three blue ribbons pinned on their
+      coats. But as for me, I&rsquo;m done with it. It will be fifty years,
+      please heaven, before this event comes round again. I hope, I earnestly
+      hope, that I shall be safely under the ground.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      II
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      THE SPEECH THAT OUGHT TO BE MADE BY A STATE GOVERNOR AFTER VISITING THE
+      FALL EXPOSITION OF AN AGRICULTURAL SOCIETY
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Well, gentlemen, this Annual Fall Fair of the Skedink County Agricultural
+      Association has come round again. I don&rsquo;t mind telling you straight
+      out that of all the disagreeable jobs that fall to me as Governor of this
+      State, my visit to your Fall Fair is about the toughest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I want to tell you, gentlemen, right here and now, that I don&rsquo;t know
+      anything about agriculture and I don&rsquo;t want to. My parents were rich
+      enough to bring me up in the city in a rational way. I didn&rsquo;t have
+      to do chores in order to go to the high school as some of those present
+      have boasted that they did. My only wonder is that they ever got there at
+      all. They show no traces of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This afternoon, gentlemen, you took me all round your live-stock exhibit.
+      I walked past, and through, nearly a quarter of a mile of hogs. What was
+      it that they were called&mdash;Tamworths&mdash;Berkshires? I don&rsquo;t
+      remember. But all I can say, gentlemen, is,&mdash;phew! Just that. Some of
+      you will understand readily enough. That word sums up my whole idea of
+      your agricultural show and I&rsquo;m done with it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No, let me correct myself. There was just one feature of your agricultural
+      exposition that met my warm approval. You were good enough to take me
+      through the section of your exposition called your Midway Pleasance. Let
+      me tell you, sirs, that there was more real merit in that than all the
+      rest of the show put together. You apologized, if I remember rightly, for
+      taking me into the large tent of the Syrian Dancing Girls. Oh, believe me,
+      gentlemen, you needn&rsquo;t have. Syria is a country which commands my
+      profoundest admiration. Some day I mean to spend a vacation there. And,
+      believe me, gentlemen, when I do go,&mdash;and I say this with all the
+      emphasis of which I am capable,&mdash;I should not wish to be accompanied
+      by such a set of flatheads as the officials of your Agricultural Society.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now, gentlemen, as I have just received a fake telegram, by
+      arrangement, calling me back to the capital of the State, I must leave
+      this banquet at once. One word in conclusion: if I had known as fully as I
+      do now how it feels to drink half a bucket of sweet cider, I should
+      certainly never have come.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      III
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      TRUTHFUL SPEECH OF A DISTRICT POLITICIAN TO A LADIES&rsquo; SUFFRAGE
+      SOCIETY
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ladies: My own earnest, heartfelt conviction is that you are a pack of
+      cats. I use the word &ldquo;cats&rdquo; advisedly, and I mean every letter
+      of it. I want to go on record before this gathering as being strongly and
+      unalterably opposed to Woman Suffrage until you get it. After that I
+      favour it. My reasons for opposing the suffrage are of a kind that you
+      couldn&rsquo;t understand. But all men,&mdash;except the few that I see at
+      this meeting,&mdash;understand them by instinct.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As you may, however, succeed as a result of the fuss that you are making,&mdash;in
+      getting votes, I have thought it best to come. Also,&mdash;I am free to
+      confess,&mdash;I wanted to see what you looked like.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On this last head I am disappointed. Personally I like women a good deal
+      fatter than most of you are, and better looking. As I look around this
+      gathering I see one or two of you that are not so bad, but on the whole
+      not many. But my own strong personal predilection is and remains in favour
+      of a woman who can cook, mend clothes, talk when I want her to, and give
+      me the kind of admiration to which I am accustomed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Let me, however, say in conclusion that I am altogether in sympathy with
+      your movement to this extent. If you ever DO get votes,&mdash;and the
+      indications are that you will (blast you),&mdash;I want your votes, and I
+      want all of them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      IX.&mdash;OUR LITERARY BUREAU
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      [Footnote: This literary bureau was started by the author in the New York
+      Century. It leaped into such immediate prominence that it had to be closed
+      at once.]
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ NOVELS READ TO ORDER
+    FIRST AID FOR THE
+       BUSY MILLIONAIRE
+
+ NO BRAINS NEEDED
+  NO TASTE REQUIRED
+   NOTHING BUT MONEY
+    SEND IT TO US
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      We have lately been struck,&mdash;of course not dangerously,&mdash;by a
+      new idea. A recent number of a well-known magazine contains an account of
+      an American multimillionaire who, on account of the pressure of his brain
+      power and the rush of his business, found it impossible to read the
+      fiction of the day for himself. He therefore caused his secretaries to
+      look through any new and likely novel and make a rapid report on its
+      contents, indicating for his personal perusal the specially interesting
+      parts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Realizing the possibilities coiled up in this plan, we have opened a
+      special agency or bureau for doing work of this sort. Any over-busy
+      multimillionaire, or superman, who becomes our client may send us novels,
+      essays, or books of any kind, and will receive a report explaining the
+      plot and pointing out such parts as he may with propriety read. If he can
+      once find time to send us a postcard, or a postal cablegram, night or day,
+      we undertake to assume all the further effort of reading. Our terms for
+      ordinary fiction are one dollar per chapter; for works of travel, 10 cents
+      per mile; and for political or other essays, two cents per page, or ten
+      dollars per idea, and for theological and controversial work, seven
+      dollars and fifty cents per cubic yard extracted. Our clients are assured
+      of prompt and immediate attention.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Through the kindness of the Editor of the Century we are enabled to insert
+      here a sample of our work. It was done to the order of a gentleman of
+      means engaged in silver mining in Colorado, who wrote us that he was
+      anxious to get &ldquo;a holt&rdquo; on modern fiction, but that he had no
+      time actually to read it. On our assuring him that this was now
+      unnecessary, he caused to be sent to us the monthly parts of a serial
+      story, on which we duly reported as follows:
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      JANUARY INSTALMENT
+    </h3>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+   Theodolite Gulch,
+    The Dip, Canon County,
+     Colorado.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Dear Sir:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We beg to inform you that the scene of the opening chapter of the Fortunes
+      of Barbara Plynlimmon is laid in Wales. The scene is laid, however, very
+      carelessly and hurriedly and we expect that it will shortly be removed. We
+      cannot, therefore, recommend it to your perusal. As there is a very fine
+      passage describing the Cambrian Hills by moonlight, we enclose herewith a
+      condensed table showing the mean altitude of the moon for the month of
+      December in the latitude of Wales. The character of Miss Plynlimmon we
+      find to be developed in conversation with her grandmother, which we think
+      you had better not read. Nor are we prepared to endorse your reading the
+      speeches of the Welsh peasantry which we find in this chapter, but we
+      forward herewith in place of them a short glossary of Welsh synonyms which
+      may aid you in this connection.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      FEBRUARY INSTALMENT
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Dear Sir:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We regret to state that we find nothing in the second chapter of the
+      Fortunes of Barbara Plynlimmon which need be reported to you at length. We
+      think it well, however, to apprise you of the arrival of a young Oxford
+      student in the neighbourhood of Miss Plynlimmon&rsquo;s cottage, who is
+      apparently a young man of means and refinement. We enclose a list of the
+      principal Oxford Colleges.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We may state that from the conversation and manner of this young gentleman
+      there is no ground for any apprehension on your part. But if need arises
+      we will report by cable to you instantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The young gentleman in question meets Miss Plynlimmon at sunrise on the
+      slopes of Snowdon. As the description of the meeting is very fine we send
+      you a recent photograph of the sun.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      MARCH INSTALMENT
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Dear Sir:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Our surmise was right. The scene of the story that we are digesting for
+      you is changed. Miss Plynlimmon has gone to London. You will be gratified
+      to learn that she has fallen heir to a fortune of 100,000 pounds, which we
+      are happy to compute for you at $486,666 and 66 cents less exchange. On
+      Miss Plynlimmon&rsquo;s arrival at Charing Cross Station, she is
+      overwhelmed with that strange feeling of isolation felt in the surging
+      crowds of a modern city. We therefore enclose a timetable showing the
+      arrival and departure of all trains at Charing Cross.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      APRIL INSTALMENT
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Dear Sir:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We beg to bring to your notice the fact that Miss Barbara Plynlimmon has
+      by an arrangement made through her trustees become the inmate, on a
+      pecuniary footing, in the household of a family of title. We are happy to
+      inform you that her first appearance at dinner in evening dress was most
+      gratifying: we can safely recommend you to read in this connection lines 4
+      and 5 and the first half of line 6 on page 1OO of the book as enclosed. We
+      regret to say that the Marquis of Slush and his eldest son Viscount
+      Fitzbuse (courtesy title) are both addicted to drink. They have been
+      drinking throughout the chapter. We are pleased to state that apparently
+      the second son, Lord Radnor of Slush, who is away from home is not so
+      addicted. We send you under separate cover a bottle of Radnor water.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      MAY INSTALMENT
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Dear Sir:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We regret to state that the affairs of Miss Barbara Plynlimmon are in a
+      very unsatisfactory position. We enclose three pages of the novel with the
+      urgent request that you will read them at once. The old Marquis of Slush
+      has made approaches towards Miss Plynlimmon of such a scandalous nature
+      that we think it best to ask you to read them in full. You will note also
+      that young Viscount Slush who is tipsy through whole of pages 121-125,
+      128-133, and part of page 140, has designs upon her fortune. We are sorry
+      to see also that the Marchioness of Buse under the guise of friendship has
+      insured Miss Plynlimmon&rsquo;s life and means to do away with her. The
+      sister of the Marchioness, the Lady Dowager, also wishes to do away with
+      her. The second housemaid who is tempted by her jewellery is also planning
+      to do away with her. We feel that if this goes on she will be done away
+      with.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      JUNE INSTALMENT
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Dear Sir:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We beg to advise you that Viscount Fitz-buse, inflamed by the beauty and
+      innocence of Miss Plynlimmon, has gone so far as to lay his finger on her
+      (read page 170, lines 6-7). She resisted his approaches. At the height of
+      the struggle a young man, attired in the costume of a Welsh tourist, but
+      wearing the stamp of an Oxford student, and yet carrying himself with the
+      unmistakable hauteur (we knew it at once) of an aristocrat, burst, or
+      bust, into the room. With one blow he felled Fitz-buse to the floor; with
+      another he clasped the girl to his heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Barbara!&rdquo; he exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Radnor,&rdquo; she murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      You will be pleased to learn that this is the second son of the Marquis,
+      Viscount Radnor, just returned from a reading tour in Wales.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      P. S. We do not know what he read, so we enclose a file of Welsh
+      newspapers to date.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      JULY INSTALMENT
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      We regret to inform you that the Marquis of Slush has disinherited his
+      son. We grieve to state that Viscount Radnor has sworn that he will never
+      ask for Miss Plynlimmon&rsquo;s hand till he has a fortune equal to her
+      own. Meantime, we are sorry to say, he proposes to work.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      AUGUST INSTALMENT
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      The Viscount is seeking employment.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      SEPTEMBER INSTALMENT
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      The Viscount is looking for work.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      OCTOBER INSTALMENT
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      The Viscount is hunting for a job.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      NOVEMBER INSTALMENT
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      We are most happy to inform you that Miss Plynlimmon has saved the
+      situation. Determined to be worthy of the generous love of Viscount
+      Radnor, she has arranged to convey her entire fortune to the old family
+      lawyer who acts as her trustee. She will thus become as poor as the
+      Viscount and they can marry. The scene with the old lawyer who breaks into
+      tears on receiving the fortune, swearing to hold and cherish it as his own
+      is very touching. Meantime, as the Viscount is hunting for a job, we
+      enclose a list of advertisements under the heading Help Wanted&mdash;Males.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      DECEMBER INSTALMENT
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      You will be very gratified to learn that the fortunes of Miss Barbara
+      Plynlimmon have come to a most pleasing termination. Her marriage with the
+      Viscount Radnor was celebrated very quietly on page 231. (We enclose a
+      list of the principal churches in London.) No one was present except the
+      old family lawyer, who was moved to tears at the sight of the bright,
+      trusting bride, and the clergyman who wept at the sight of the cheque
+      given him by the Viscount. After the ceremony the old trustee took Lord
+      and Lady Radnor to a small wedding breakfast at an hotel (we enclose a
+      list). During the breakfast a sudden faintness (for which we had been
+      watching for ten pages) overcame him. He sank back in his chair, gasping.
+      Lord and Lady Radnor rushed to him and sought in vain to tighten his
+      necktie. He expired under their care, having just time to indicate in his
+      pocket a will leaving them his entire wealth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This had hardly happened when a messenger brought news to the Viscount
+      that his brother, Lord Fitz-buse had been killed in the hunting field, and
+      that he (meaning him, himself) had now succeeded to the title. Lord and
+      Lady Fitz-buse had hardly time to reach the town house of the family when
+      they learned that owing to the sudden death of the old Marquis (also, we
+      believe, in the hunting field), they had become the Marquis and the
+      Marchioness of Slush.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Marquis and the Marchioness of Slush are still living in their
+      ancestral home in London. Their lives are an example to all their tenantry
+      in Piccadilly, the Strand and elsewhere.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      CONCLUDING NOTE
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Dear Mr. Gulch:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We beg to acknowledge with many thanks your cheque for one thousand
+      dollars.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We regret to learn that you have not been able to find time to read our
+      digest of the serial story placed with us at your order. But we note with
+      pleasure that you propose to have the &ldquo;essential points&rdquo; of
+      our digest &ldquo;boiled down&rdquo; by one of the business experts of
+      your office.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Awaiting your commands,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We remain, etc., etc.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      X.&mdash;SPEEDING UP BUSINESS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      We were sitting at our editorial desk in our inner room, quietly writing
+      up our week&rsquo;s poetry, when a stranger looked in upon us.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He came in with a burst,&mdash;like the entry of the hero of western drama
+      coming in out of a snowstorm. His manner was all excitement. &ldquo;Sit
+      down,&rdquo; we said, in our grave, courteous way. &ldquo;Sit down!&rdquo;
+      he exclaimed, &ldquo;certainly not! Are you aware of the amount of time
+      and energy that are being wasted in American business by the practice of
+      perpetually sitting down and standing up again? Do you realize that every
+      time you sit down and stand up you make a dead lift of&rdquo;&mdash;he
+      looked at us,&mdash;&ldquo;two hundred and fifty pounds? Did you ever
+      reflect that every time you sit down you have to get up again?&rdquo;
+      &ldquo;Never,&rdquo; we said quietly, &ldquo;we never thought of it.&rdquo;
+      &ldquo;You didn&rsquo;t!&rdquo; he sneered. &ldquo;No, you&rsquo;d rather
+      go on lifting 250 pounds through two feet,&mdash;an average of 500
+      foot-pounds, practically 62 kilowatts of wasted power. Do you know that by
+      merely hitching a pulley to the back of your neck you could generate
+      enough power to light your whole office?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We hung our heads. Simple as the thing was, we had never thought of it.
+      &ldquo;Very good,&rdquo; said the Stranger. &ldquo;Now, all American
+      business men are like you. They don&rsquo;t think,&mdash;do you understand
+      me? They don&rsquo;t think.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We realized the truth of it at once. We had never thought. Perhaps we didn&rsquo;t
+      even know how.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, I tell you,&rdquo; continued our visitor, speaking rapidly and
+      with a light of wild enthusiasm in his face, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m out for a
+      new campaign,&mdash;efficiency in business&mdash;speeding things up&mdash;better
+      organization.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But surely,&rdquo; we said, musingly, &ldquo;we have seen something
+      about this lately in the papers?&rdquo; &ldquo;Seen it, sir,&rdquo; he
+      exclaimed, &ldquo;I should say so. It&rsquo;s everywhere. It&rsquo;s a new
+      movement. It&rsquo;s in the air. Has it never struck you how a thing like
+      this can be seen in the air?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here again we were at fault. In all our lives we had never seen anything
+      in the air. We had never even looked there. &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; continued
+      the Stranger, &ldquo;I want your paper to help. I want you to join in. I
+      want you to give publicity.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Assuredly,&rdquo; we said, with our old-fashioned politeness.
+      &ldquo;Anything which concerns the welfare, the progress, if one may so
+      phrase it&mdash;&rdquo; &ldquo;Stop,&rdquo; said the visitor. &ldquo;You
+      talk too much. You&rsquo;re prosy. Don&rsquo;t talk. Listen to me. Try and
+      fix your mind on what I am about to say.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We fixed it. The Stranger&rsquo;s manner became somewhat calmer. &ldquo;I
+      am heading,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;the new American efficiency movement. I
+      have sent our circulars to fifty thousand representative firms, explaining
+      my methods. I am receiving ten thousand answers a day&rdquo;&mdash;here he
+      dragged a bundle of letters out of his pocket&mdash;&ldquo;from Maine,
+      from New Hampshire, from Vermont,&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Massachusetts, Rhode
+      Island, Connecticut,&rdquo; we murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;from every State in the Union&mdash;from
+      the Philippines, from Porto Rico, and last week I had one from Canada.&rdquo;
+      &ldquo;Marvellous,&rdquo; we said; &ldquo;and may one ask what your new
+      methods are?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a proper question.
+      It&rsquo;s a typical business question, fair, plain, clean, and even
+      admitting of an answer. The great art of answering questions,&rdquo; he
+      continued, &ldquo;is to answer at once without loss of time, friction or
+      delay in moving from place to place. I&rsquo;ll answer it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do,&rdquo; we said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will,&rdquo; said the Stranger. &ldquo;My method is first: to
+      stimulate business to the highest point by infusing into it everywhere the
+      spirit of generous rivalry, of wholesome competition; by inviting each and
+      every worker to outdo each and every other.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And can they do it?&rdquo; we asked, puzzled and yet fascinated.
+      &ldquo;Can they all do it?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They do, and they can,&rdquo; said the Stranger. &ldquo;The proof
+      of it is that they are doing it. Listen. Here is an answer to my circular
+      No. 6, Efficiency and Recompense, that came in this morning. It is from a
+      steel firm. Listen.&rdquo; The Stranger picked out a letter and read it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dear Sir:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Our firm is a Steel Corporation. We roll rails. As soon as we read your
+      circular on the Stimulus of Competition we saw that there were big things
+      in it. At once we sent one of our chief managers to the rolling, mill. He
+      carried a paper bag in his hand. &ldquo;Now boys,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;every
+      man who rolls a rail gets a gum-drop.&rdquo; The effect was magical. The
+      good fellows felt a new stimulus. They now roll out rails like dough. Work
+      is a joy to them. Every Saturday night the man who has rolled most gets a
+      blue ribbon; the man who has rolled the next most, a green ribbon; the
+      next most a yellow ribbon, and so on through the spectroscope. The man who
+      rolls least gets only a red ribbon. It is a real pleasure to see the brave
+      fellows clamouring for their ribbons. Our output, after defraying the
+      entire cost of the ribbons and the gum-drops, has increased forty per
+      cent. We intend to carry the scheme further by allowing all the men who
+      get a hundred blue ribbons first, to exchange them for the Grand
+      Efficiency Prize of the firm,&mdash;a pink ribbon. This the winner will be
+      entitled to wear whenever and wherever he sees fit to wear it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The stranger paused for breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marvellous,&rdquo; we said. &ldquo;There is no doubt the stimulus
+      of keen competition&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shut up,&rdquo; he said impatiently. &ldquo;Let me explain it
+      further. Competition is only part of it. An item just as big that makes
+      for efficiency is to take account of the little things. It&rsquo;s the
+      little things that are never thought of.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here was another wonder! We realized that we had never thought of them.
+      &ldquo;Take an example,&rdquo; the Stranger continued. &ldquo;I went into
+      a hotel the other day. What did I see? Bell-boys being summoned upstairs
+      every minute, and flying up in the elevators. Yes,&mdash;and every time
+      they went up they had to come down again. I went up to the manager. I
+      said, &lsquo;I can understand that when your guests ring for the bell-boys
+      they have to go up. But why should they come down? Why not have them go up
+      and never come down?&rsquo; He caught the idea at once. That hotel is
+      transformed. I have a letter from the manager stating that they find it
+      fifty per cent. cheaper to hire new bell-boys instead of waiting for the
+      old ones to come down.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These results,&rdquo; we said, &ldquo;are certainly marvellous.
+      &ldquo;You are most assuredly to be congratulated on&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You talk too much,&rdquo; said the Stranger. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t do
+      it. Learn to listen. If a young man comes to me for advice in business,&mdash;and
+      they do in hundreds, lots of them,&mdash;almost in tears over their
+      inefficiency,&mdash;I&rsquo;d say, &lsquo;Young man, never talk, listen;
+      answer, but don&rsquo;t speak.&rsquo; But even all this is only part of
+      the method. Another side of it is technique.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Technique?&rdquo; we said, pleased but puzzled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, the proper use of machine devices. Take the building trade. I&rsquo;ve
+      revolutionized it. Till now all the bricks even for a high building were
+      carried up to the mason in hods. Madness! Think of the waste of it. By my
+      method instead of carrying the bricks to the mason we take the mason to
+      the brick,&mdash;lower him on a wire rope, give him a brick, and up he
+      goes again. As soon as he wants another brick he calls down, &lsquo;I want
+      a brick,&rsquo; and down he comes like lightning.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This,&rdquo; we said, &ldquo;is little short of&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cut it out. Even that is not all. Another thing bigger than any is
+      organization. Half the business in this country is not organized. As soon
+      as I sent out my circular, No. 4, HAVE YOU ORGANIZED YOUR BUSINESS! I got
+      answers in thousands! Heart-broken, many of them. They had never thought
+      of it! Here, for example, is a letter written by a plain man, a gardener,
+      just an ordinary man, a plain man&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; we said, &ldquo;quite so.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, here is what he writes:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dear Sir:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As soon as I got your circular I read it all through from end to end, and
+      I saw that all my failure in the past had come from my not being
+      organized. I sat and thought a long while and I decided that I would
+      organize myself. I went right in to the house and I said to my wife,
+      &ldquo;Jane, I&rsquo;m going to organize myself.&rdquo; She said, &ldquo;Oh,
+      John!&rdquo;&mdash;and not another word, but you should have seen the look
+      on her face. So the next morning I got up early and began to organize
+      myself. It was hard at first but I stuck to it. There were times when I
+      felt as if I couldn&rsquo;t do it. It seemed too hard. But bit by bit I
+      did it and now, thank God, I am organized. I wish all men like me could
+      know the pleasure I feel in being organized.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Touching, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo; said the Stranger. &ldquo;But I
+      get lots of letters like that. Here&rsquo;s another, also from a man, a
+      plain man, working on his own farm. Hear what he says:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dear Sir:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As soon as I saw your circular on HOW TO SPEED UP THE EMPLOYEE I felt that
+      it was a big thing. I don&rsquo;t have any hired help here to work with
+      me, but only father. He cuts the wood and does odd chores about the place.
+      So I realized that the best I could do was to try to speed up father. I
+      started in to speed him up last Tuesday, and I wish you could see him.
+      Before this he couldn&rsquo;t split a cord of wood without cutting a slice
+      off his boots. Now he does it in half the time.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But there,&rdquo; the Stranger said, getting impatient even with
+      his own reading, &ldquo;I needn&rsquo;t read it all. It is the same thing
+      all along the line. I&rsquo;ve got the Method introduced into the
+      Department Stores. Before this every customer who came in wasted time
+      trying to find the counters. Now we install a patent springboard, with a
+      mechanism like a catapault. As soon as a customer comes in an attendant
+      puts him on the board, blindfolds him, and says, &lsquo;Where do you want
+      to go?&rsquo; &lsquo;Glove counter.&rsquo; Oh, all right.&rsquo; He&rsquo;s
+      fired at it through the air. No time lost. Same with the railways. They&rsquo;re
+      installing the Method, too. Every engineer who breaks the record from New
+      York to Buffalo gets a glass of milk. When he gets a hundred glasses he
+      can exchange them for a glass of beer. So with the doctors. On the new
+      method, instead of giving a patient one pill a day for fourteen days they
+      give him fourteen pills in one day. Doctors, lawyers, everybody,&mdash;in
+      time, sir,&rdquo; said the Stranger, in tones of rising excitement,
+      &ldquo;you&rsquo;ll see even the plumbers&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But just at this moment the door opened. A sturdy-looking man in blue
+      entered. The Stranger&rsquo;s voice was hushed at once. The excitement
+      died out of his face. His manner all of a sudden was meekness itself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was just coming,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s right, sir,&rdquo; said the man; &ldquo;better come
+      along and not take up the gentleman&rsquo;s time.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-bye, then,&rdquo; said the Stranger, with meek affability, and
+      he went out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man in blue lingered behind for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A sad case, sir,&rdquo; he said, and he tapped his forehead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean&mdash;&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly. Cracked, sir. Quite cracked; but harmless. I&rsquo;m
+      engaged to look after him, but he gave me the slip downstairs.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is under delusions?&rdquo; we inquired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir. He&rsquo;s got it into his head that business in this
+      country has all gone to pieces,&mdash;thinks it must be reorganized. He
+      writes letters about it all day and sends them to the papers with
+      imaginary names. You may have seen some of them. Good day, sir.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We looked at our watch. We had lost just half an hour over the new
+      efficiency. We turned back with a sigh to our old-fashioned task.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XI.&mdash;WHO IS ALSO WHO
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      A Companion Volume to Who&rsquo;s Who
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Note by the editor: I do not quarrel with the contents of such valuable
+      compendiums as &ldquo;Who&rsquo;s Who,&rdquo; &ldquo;Men and Women of the
+      Time,&rdquo; etc., etc. But they leave out the really Representative
+      People. The names that they include are so well known as to need no
+      commentary, while those that they exclude are the very people one most
+      wishes to read about. My new book is not arranged alphabetically, that
+      order having given great offence in certain social circles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Smith, J. Everyman: born Kenoka Springs; educ. Kenoka Springs; present
+      residence, The Springs, Kenoka; address, Kenoka Springs Post-Office; after
+      leaving school threw himself (Oct. 1881) into college study; thrown out of
+      it (April 1882); decided to follow the law; followed it (1882); was left
+      behind (1883); decided (1884) to abandon it; abandoned it; resolved (1885)
+      to turn his energies to finance; turned them (1886); kept them turned
+      (1887); unturned them (1888); was offered position (1889) as sole
+      custodian of Mechanics&rsquo; Institute, Kenoka Springs; decided (same
+      date) to accept it; accepted it; is there now; will be till he dies.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Flintlock, J. Percussion: aged 87; war veteran and pensioner; born, blank;
+      educated, blank; at outbreak of Civil War sprang to arms; both sides;
+      sprang Union first; entered beef contract department of army of U. S.;
+      fought at Chicago, Omaha, and leading (beef) centres of operation during
+      the thickest of the (beef) conflict; was under Hancock, Burnside, Meade,
+      and Grant; fought with all of them; mentioned (very strongly) by all of
+      them; entered Confederate Service (1864); attached (very much) to rum
+      department of quarter-master&rsquo;s staff; mentioned in this connection
+      (very warmly) in despatches of General Lee; mustered out, away out, of
+      army; lost from sight, 1865-1895; placed on pension list with rank of
+      general, 1895; has stayed on, 1895-1915; obtained (on 6th Avenue) war
+      medals and service clasps; publications&mdash;&ldquo;My Campaigns under
+      Grant,&rdquo; &ldquo;Battles I have Saved,&rdquo; &ldquo;Feeding an Army,&rdquo;
+      &ldquo;Stuffing the Public,&rdquo; etc., etc.; recreations, telling war
+      stories; favorite amusement, showing war medals.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Crook, W. Underhand: born, dash; parents, double dash; educated at
+      technical school; on graduation turned his attention to the problem of
+      mechanical timelocks and patent safes; entered Sing-Sing, 1890; resident
+      there, 1890-1893; Auburn, 1894, three months; various state institutions,
+      1895-1898; worked at profession, 1898-1899; Sing-Sing, 1900; professional
+      work, 1901; Sing-Sing, 1902; profession, 1903, Sing-Sing; profession,
+      Sing-Sing, etc., etc.; life appointment, 1908; general favorite, musical,
+      has never killed anybody.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gloomie, Dreary O&rsquo;Leary: Scotch dialect comedian and humorist; well
+      known in Scotland; has standing offer from Duke of Sutherland to put foot
+      on estate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Muck, O. Absolute: novelist; of low German extraction; born Rotterdam;
+      educated Muckendorf; escaped to America; long unrecognized; leaped into
+      prominence by writing &ldquo;The Social Gas-Pipe,&rdquo; a powerful
+      indictment of modern society, written in revenge for not being invited to
+      dinner; other works&mdash;&ldquo;The Sewerage of the Sea-Side,&rdquo; an
+      arraignment of Newport society, reflecting on some of his best friends;
+      &ldquo;Vice and Super-Vice,&rdquo; a telling denunciation of the New York
+      police, written after they had arrested him; &ldquo;White Ravens,&rdquo;
+      an indictment of the clergy; &ldquo;Black Crooks,&rdquo; an indictment of
+      the publishers, etc., etc.; has arraigned and indicted nearly everybody.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Whyner, Egbert Ethelwind: poet, at age of sixteen wrote a quatrain,
+      &ldquo;The Banquet of Nebuchadnezzar,&rdquo; and at once left school;
+      followed it up in less than two years by a poem in six lines &ldquo;America&rdquo;;
+      rested a year and then produced &ldquo;Babylon, A Vision of Civilization,&rdquo;
+      three lines; has written also &ldquo;Herod, a Tragedy,&rdquo; four lines;
+      &ldquo;Revolt of Woman, &ldquo;two lines, and &ldquo;The Day of Judgement,&rdquo;
+      one line. Recreation, writing poetry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Adult, Hon. Underdone: address The Shrubbery, Hopton- under-Hyde,
+      Rotherham-near-Pottersby, Potts, Hants, Hops, England (or words to that
+      effect); organizer of the Boys&rsquo; League of Pathfinders, Chief
+      Commissioner of the Infant Crusaders, Grand Master of the Young Imbeciles;
+      Major-General of the Girl Rangers, Chief of Staff of the Matron Mountain
+      Climbers, etc.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Zfwinski, X. Z.: Polish pianist; plays all night; address 4,570 West 457
+      Street, Westside, Chicago West.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XII.&mdash;PASSIONATE PARAGRAPHS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      (An extract from a recent (very recent) novel, illustrating the new
+      beauties of language and ideas that are being rapidly developed by the
+      twentieth century press.)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His voice as he turned towards her was taut as a tie-line.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t love me!&rdquo; he hoarsed, thick with agony. She
+      had angled into a seat and sat sensing-rather-than-seeing him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a time she silenced. Then presently as he still stood and enveloped
+      her,&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t!&rdquo; she thinned, her voice fining to a thread.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Answer me,&rdquo; he gloomed, still gazing into-and-through her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She half-heard half-didn&rsquo;t-hear him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Night was falling about them as they sat thus beside the river. A molten
+      afterglow of iridescent saffron shot with incandescent carmine lit up the
+      waters of the Hudson till they glowed like electrified uranium.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a while they both sat silent,&mdash;looming.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It had to be,&rdquo; she glumped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, why?&rdquo; he barked. &ldquo;Why should it have had to have
+      been or (more hopefully) even be to be? Surely you don&rsquo;t mean
+      because of MONEY?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She shuddered into herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The thing seemed to sting her (it hadn&rsquo;t really).
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Money!&rdquo; she almost-but-not-quite-moaned. &ldquo;You might
+      have spared me that!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He sank down and grassed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And after they had sat thus for another half-hour grassing and growling
+      and angling and sensing one another, it turned out that all that he was
+      trying to say was to ask if she would marry him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And of course she said yes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0028" id="link2H_4_0028"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XIII.&mdash;WEEJEE THE PET DOG
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      An Idyll of the Summer
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      We were sitting on the verandah of the Sopley&rsquo;s summer cottage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How lovely it is here,&rdquo; I said to my host and hostess,
+      &ldquo;and how still.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was at this moment that Weejee, the pet dog, took a sharp nip at the
+      end of my tennis trousers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Weejee!!&rdquo; exclaimed his mistress with great emphasis, &ldquo;BAD
+      dog! how dare you, sir! BAD dog!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope he hasn&rsquo;t hurt you,&rdquo; said my host.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, it&rsquo;s nothing,&rdquo; I answered cheerfully. &ldquo;He
+      hardly scratched me.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know I don&rsquo;t think he means anything by it,&rdquo; said
+      Mrs. Sopley.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I&rsquo;m SURE he doesn&rsquo;t,&rdquo; I answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Weejee was coming nearer to me again as I spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;WEEJEE!!&rdquo; cried my hostess, &ldquo;naughty dog, bad!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Funny thing about that dog,&rdquo; said Sopley, &ldquo;the way he
+      KNOWS people. It&rsquo;s a sort of instinct. He knew right away that you
+      were a stranger,&mdash;now, yesterday, when the butcher came, there was a
+      new driver on the cart and Weejee knew it right away,&mdash;grabbed the
+      man by the leg at once,&mdash;wouldn&rsquo;t let go. I called out to the
+      man that it was all right or he might have done Weejee some harm.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At this moment Weejee took the second nip at my other trouser leg. There
+      was a short GUR-R-R and a slight mix-up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Weejee! Weejee!&rdquo; called Mrs. Sopley. &ldquo;How DARE you,
+      sir! You&rsquo;re just a BAD dog!! Go and lie down, sir. I&rsquo;m so
+      sorry. I think, you know, it&rsquo;s your white trousers. For some reason
+      Weejee simply HATES white trousers. I do hope he hasn&rsquo;t torn them.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no,&rdquo; I said; &ldquo;it&rsquo;s nothing only a slight
+      tear.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here, Weege, Weege,&rdquo; said Sopley, anxious to make a diversion
+      and picking up a little chip of wood,&mdash;&ldquo;chase it, fetch it out!&rdquo;
+      and he made the motions of throwing it into the lake.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t throw it too far, Charles,&rdquo; said his wife.
+      &ldquo;He doesn&rsquo;t swim awfully well,&rdquo; she continued, turning
+      to me, &ldquo;and I&rsquo;m always afraid he might get out of his depth.
+      Last week he was ever so nearly drowned. Mr. Van Toy was in swimming, and
+      he had on a dark blue suit (dark blue seems simply to infuriate Weejee)
+      and Weejee just dashed in after him. He don&rsquo;t MEAN anything, you
+      know, it was only the SUIT made him angry,&mdash;he really likes Mr. Van
+      Toy,&mdash;but just for a minute we were quite alarmed. If Mr. Van Toy
+      hadn&rsquo;t carried Weejee in I think he might have been drowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By jove!&rdquo; I said in a tone to indicate how appalled I was.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me throw the stick, Charles,&rdquo; continued Mrs. Sopley.
+      &ldquo;Now, Weejee, look Weejee&mdash;here, good dog&mdash;look! look now
+      (sometimes Weejee simply won&rsquo;t do what one wants), here, Weejee;
+      now, good dog!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Weejee had his tail sideways between his legs and was moving towards me
+      again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hold on,&rdquo; said Sopley in a stern tone, &ldquo;let me throw
+      him in.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do be careful, Charles,&rdquo; said his wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sopley picked Weejee up by the collar and carried him to the edge of the
+      water&mdash;it was about six inches deep,&mdash;and threw him in,&mdash;with
+      much the same force as, let us say, a pen is thrown into ink or a brush
+      dipped into a pot of varnish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s enough; that&rsquo;s quite enough, Charles,&rdquo;
+      exclaimed Mrs. Sopley. &ldquo;I think he&rsquo;d better not swim. The
+      water in the evening is always a little cold. Good dog, good doggie, good
+      Weejee!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meantime &ldquo;good Weejee&rdquo; had come out of the water and was
+      moving again towards me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He goes straight to you,&rdquo; said my hostess. &ldquo;I think he
+      must have taken a fancy to you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To prove it, Weejee gave himself a rotary whirl like a twirled mop.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I&rsquo;m SO sorry,&rdquo; said Mrs. Sopley. &ldquo;I am. He&rsquo;s
+      wetted you. Weejee, lie down, down, sir, good dog, bad dog, lie down!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s all right,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve another
+      white suit in my valise.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you must be wet through,&rdquo; said Mrs. Sopley. &ldquo;Perhaps
+      we&rsquo;d better go in. It&rsquo;s getting late, anyway, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;
+      And then she added to her husband, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think Weejee ought
+      to sit out here now that he&rsquo;s wet.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So we went in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think you&rsquo;ll find everything you need,&rdquo; said Sopley,
+      as he showed me to my room, &ldquo;and, by the way, don&rsquo;t mind if
+      Weejee comes into your room at night. We like to let him run all over the
+      house and he often sleeps on this bed.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; I said cheerfully, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll look after
+      him.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That night Weejee came.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And when it was far on in the dead of night&mdash;so that even the lake
+      and the trees were hushed in sleep, I took Weejee out and&mdash;but there
+      is no need to give the details of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the Sopleys are still wondering where Weejee has gone to, and waiting
+      for him to come back, because he is so clever at finding his way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But from where Weejee is, no one finds his way back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XIV.&mdash;SIDELIGHTS ON THE SUPERMEN
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      An Interview with General Bernhardi
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      He came into my room in that modest, Prussian way that he has, clicking
+      his heels together, his head very erect, his neck tightly gripped in his
+      forty-two centimeter collar. He had on a Pickelhaube, or Prussian helmet,
+      which he removed with a sweeping gesture and laid on the sofa.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So I knew at once that it was General Bernhardi.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In spite of his age he looked&mdash;I am bound to admit it&mdash;a fine
+      figure of a man. There was a splendid fullness about his chest and
+      shoulders, and a suggestion of rugged power all over him. I had not heard
+      him on the stairs. He seemed to appear suddenly beside me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How did you get past the janitor?&rdquo; I asked. For it was late
+      at night, and my room at college is three flights up the stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The janitor,&rdquo; he answered carelessly, &ldquo;I killed him.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I gave a gasp.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His resistance,&rdquo; the general went on, &ldquo;was very slight.
+      Apparently in this country your janitors are unarmed.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You killed him?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We Prussians,&rdquo; said Bernhardi, &ldquo;when we wish an
+      immediate access anywhere, always kill the janitor. It is quicker: and it
+      makes for efficiency. It impresses them with a sense of our Furchtbarkeit.
+      You have no word for that in English, I believe?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not outside of a livery stable,&rdquo; I answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a pause. I was thinking of the janitor. It seemed in a sort of
+      way&mdash;I admit that I have a sentimental streak in me&mdash;a
+      deplorable thing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sit down,&rdquo; I said presently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; answered the General, but remained standing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;do it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; he repeated, without moving.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I forgot,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Perhaps you CAN&rsquo;T sit down.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not very well,&rdquo; he answered; &ldquo;in fact, we Prussian
+      officers&rdquo;&mdash;here he drew himself up higher still&mdash;&ldquo;never
+      sit down. Our uniforms do not permit of it. This inspires us with a kind
+      of Rastlosigkeit.&rdquo; Here his eyes glittered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It must,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In fact, with an Unsittlichkeit&mdash;an Unverschamtheit&mdash;with
+      an Ein-fur-alle-mal-un-dur-chaus&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly,&rdquo; I said, for I saw that he was getting excited,
+      &ldquo;but pray tell me, General, to what do I owe the honour of this
+      visit?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The General&rsquo;s manner changed at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Highly learned, and high-well-born-professor,&rdquo; he said,
+      &ldquo;I come to you as to a fellow author, known and honoured not merely
+      in England, for that is nothing, but in Germany herself, and in Turkey,
+      the very home of Culture.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I knew that it was mere flattery. I knew that in this same way Lord
+      Haldane had been so captivated as to come out of the Emperor&rsquo;s
+      presence unable to say anything but &ldquo;Sittlichkeit&rdquo; for weeks;
+      that good old John Burns had been betrayed by a single dinner at Potsdam,
+      and that the Sultan of Turkey had been told that his Answers to Ultimatums
+      were the wittiest things written since Kant&rsquo;s Critique of Pure
+      Reason. Yet I was pleased in spite of myself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&rdquo; I exclaimed, &ldquo;they know my works of humour in
+      Germany?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do they know them?&rdquo; said the General. &ldquo;Ach! Himmel! How
+      they laugh. That work of yours (I think I see it on the shelf behind you),
+      The Elements of Political Science, how the Kaiser has laughed over it! And
+      the Crown Prince! It nearly killed him!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will send him the new edition,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;But tell me,
+      General, what is it that you want of me?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is about my own book,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;You have read
+      it?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I pointed to a copy of Germany and the Next War, in its glaring yellow
+      cover&mdash;the very hue of Furchtbarkeit&mdash;lying on the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have read it? You have really read it?&rdquo; asked the General
+      with great animation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;I won&rsquo;t go so far as to say that.
+      But I have TRIED to read it. And I talk about it as if I had read it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The General&rsquo;s face fell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are as the others,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;They buy the book,
+      they lay it on the table, they talk of it at dinner,&mdash;they say
+      &lsquo;Bernhardi has prophesied this, Bernhardi foresaw that,&rsquo; but
+      read it,&mdash;nevermore.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Still,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;you get the royalties.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are cut off. The perfidious British Government will not allow
+      the treacherous publisher to pay them. But that is not my complaint.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the matter, then?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My book is misunderstood. You English readers have failed to grasp
+      its intention. It is not meant as a book of strategy. It is what you call
+      a work of humour. The book is to laugh. It is one big joke.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t say so!&rdquo; I said in astonishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Assuredly,&rdquo; answered the General. &ldquo;Here&rdquo;&mdash;and
+      with this he laid hold of the copy of the book before me and began rapidly
+      turning over the leaves&mdash;&ldquo;let me set it out asunder for you,
+      the humour of it. Listen, though, to this, where I speak of Germany&rsquo;s
+      historical mission on page 73,&mdash;&lsquo;No nation on the face of the
+      globe is so able to grasp and appropriate all the elements of culture as
+      Germany is?&rsquo; What do you say to that? Is it not a joke? Ach, Himmel,
+      how our officers have laughed over that in Belgium! With their booted feet
+      on the mantelpiece as they read and with bottles of appropriated champagne
+      beside them as they laugh.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right, General,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;you will forgive my
+      not laughing out loud, but you are a great humorist.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Am I not? And listen further still, how I deal with the theme of
+      the German character,&mdash;&lsquo;Moral obligations such as no nation had
+      ever yet made the standard of conduct, are laid down by the German
+      philosophers.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;gloriously funny; read me some more.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This, then, you will like,&mdash;here I deal with the permissible
+      rules of war. It is on page 236 that I am reading it. I wrote this chiefly
+      to make laugh our naval men and our Zeppelin crews,&mdash;&lsquo;A
+      surprise attack, in order to be justified, must be made only on the armed
+      forces of the state and not on its peaceful inhabitants. Otherwise the
+      attack becomes a treacherous crime.&rsquo; Eh, what?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here the General broke into roars of laughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wonderful,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Your book ought to sell well in
+      Scarborough and in Yarmouth. Read some more.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should like to read you what I say about neutrality, and how
+      England is certain to violate our strategical right by an attack on
+      Belgium and about the sharp measures that ought to be taken against
+      neutral ships laden with contraband,&mdash;the passages are in Chapters
+      VII and VIII, but for the moment I fail to lay the thumb on them.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me the book, General,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Now that I
+      understand what you meant by it, I think I can show you also some very
+      funny passages in it. These things, for example, that you say about Canada
+      and the colonies,&mdash;yes, here it is, page 148,&mdash;&lsquo;In the
+      event of war the loosely-joined British Empire will break into pieces, and
+      the colonies will consult their own interests,&rsquo;&mdash;excellently
+      funny,&mdash;and this again,&mdash;&lsquo;Canada will not permanently
+      retain any trace of the English spirit,&rsquo;&mdash;and this too,&mdash;&lsquo;the
+      Colonies can be completely ignored so far as the European theatre of war
+      is concerned,&rsquo;&mdash;and here again,&mdash;&lsquo;Egypt and South
+      Africa will at once revolt and break away from the empire,&rsquo; &mdash;really,
+      General, your ideas of the British Colonies are superbly funny. Mark Twain
+      wasn&rsquo;t a circumstance on you.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not at all,&rdquo; said Bernhardi, and his voice reverted to his
+      habitual Prussian severity, &ldquo;these are not jokes. They are facts. It
+      is only through the folly of the Canadians in not reading my book that
+      they are not more widely known. Even as it is they are exactly the views
+      of your great leader Heinrich Bauratze&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who?&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Heinrich Bauratze, your great Canadian leader&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Leader of what?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That I do not know,&rdquo; said Bernhardi. &ldquo;Our intelligence
+      office has not yet heard what he leads. But as soon as he leads anything
+      we shall know it. Meantime we can see from his speeches that he has read
+      my book. Ach! if only your other leaders in Canada,&mdash;Sir Robert
+      Laurier, Sir Osler Sifton, Sir Williams Borden,&mdash;you smile, you do
+      not realize that in Germany we have exact information of everything: all
+      that happens, we know it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meantime I had been looking over the leaves of the book.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here at least,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;is some splendidly humorous
+      stuff,&mdash;this about the navy. &lsquo;The completion of the Kiel Canal,&rsquo;
+      you write in Chapter XII, &lsquo;is of great importance as it will enable
+      our largest battleships to appear unexpectedly in the Baltic and in the
+      North Sea!&rsquo; Appear unexpectedly! If they only would! How exquisitely
+      absurd&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir!&rdquo; said the General. &ldquo;That is not to laugh. You err
+      yourself. That is Furchtbarkeit. I did not say the book is all humour.
+      That would be false art. Part of it is humour and part is Furchbarkeit.
+      That passage is specially designed to frighten Admiral Jellicoe. And he
+      won&rsquo;t read it! Potztausand, he won&rsquo;t read it!&rdquo;&mdash;repeated
+      the general, his eyes flashing and his clenched fist striking in the air&mdash;&ldquo;What
+      sort of combatants are these of the British Navy who refuse to read our
+      war-books? The Kaiser&rsquo;s Heligoland speech! They never read a word of
+      it. The Furchtbarkeit-Proklamation of August,&mdash;they never looked at
+      it. The Reichstags-Rede with the printed picture of the Kaiser shaking
+      hands with everybody,&mdash;they used it to wrap up sandwiches! What are
+      they, then, Jellicoe and his men? They sit there in their ships and they
+      read nothing! How can we get at them if they refuse to read? How can we
+      frighten them away if they haven&rsquo;t culture enough to get frightened.
+      Beim Himmel,&rdquo; shouted the General in great excitement&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But what more he said can never be known. For at this second a sudden
+      catastrophe happened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In his frenzy of excitement the General struck with his fist at the table,
+      missed it, lost his balance and fell over sideways right on the point of
+      his Pickelhaube which he had laid on the sofa. There was a sudden sound as
+      of the ripping of cloth and the bursting of pneumatic cushions and to my
+      amazement the General collapsed on the sofa, his uniform suddenly
+      punctured in a dozen places.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Schnapps,&rdquo; he cried, &ldquo;fetch brandy.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Great Heavens! General,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;what has happened?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My uniform!&rdquo; he moaned, &ldquo;it has burst! Give me
+      Schnapps!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He seemed to shrink visibly in size. His magnificent chest was gone. He
+      was shrivelling into a tattered heap. He appeared as he lay there, a very
+      allegory and illustration of Prussian Furchtbarkeit with the wind going
+      out of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fetch Schnapps,&rdquo;&mdash;he moaned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are no Schnapps here,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;this is McGill
+      University.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then call the janitor,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You killed him,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t. I was lying. I gave him a look that should have
+      killed him, but I don&rsquo;t think it did. Rouse yourself from your
+      chair, and call him&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will,&rdquo; I said, and started up from my seat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But as I did so, the form of General Bernhardi, which I could have sworn
+      had been lying in a tattered heap on the sofa on the other side of the
+      room, seemed suddenly to vanish from my eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was nothing before me but the empty room with the fire burned low in
+      the grate, and in front of me an open copy of Bernhardi&rsquo;s book.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I must,&mdash;like many another reader,&mdash;have fallen asleep over it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0030" id="link2H_4_0030"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XV.&mdash;THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      A bell tinkled over the door of the little drug store as I entered it;
+      which seemed strange in a lighted street of a great city.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the little store itself, dim even in the centre and dark in the
+      corners was gloomy enough for a country crossroads.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have to have the bell,&rdquo; said the man behind the counter,
+      reading my thought, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m alone here just now.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A toothbrush?&rdquo; he said in answer to my question. &ldquo;Yes,
+      I guess I&rsquo;ve got some somewhere round here.&rdquo; He was stooping
+      under and behind his counter and his voice came up from below. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve
+      got some somewhere&mdash;&rdquo; And then as if talking to himself he
+      murmured from behind a pile of cardboard boxes, &ldquo;I saw some Tuesday.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Had I gone across the street to the brilliant premises of the Cut Rate
+      Pharmaceutical where they burn electric light by the meterfull I should no
+      sooner have said &ldquo;tooth brush,&rdquo; than one of the ten clerks in
+      white hospital jackets would have poured a glittering assortment over the
+      counter&mdash;prophylactic, lactic and every other sort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But I had turned in, I don&rsquo;t know why, to the little store across
+      the way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here, I guess these must be tooth brushes,&rdquo; he said,
+      reappearing at the level of the counter with a flat box in his hand. They
+      must have been presumably, or have once been,&mdash;at some time long ago.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They&rsquo;re tooth brushes all right,&rdquo; he said, and started
+      looking over them with an owner&rsquo;s interest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the price of them?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; the man said musingly, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t&mdash;jest&mdash;know.
+      I guess it&rsquo;s written on them likely,&rdquo; and he began to look at
+      the handles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Over at the Pharmaceutical across the way the words &ldquo;what price?&rdquo;
+      would have precipitated a ready avalanche of figures.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This one seems to be seventy-five cents,&rdquo; he said and handed
+      me one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it a good tooth brush?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It ought to be,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you&rsquo;d think, at that
+      price.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had no shop talk, no patter whatever.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then he looked at the brush again, more closely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe it IS seventy-five,&rdquo; he muttered,
+      &ldquo;I think it must be fifteen, don&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I took it from his hand and looked and said,&mdash;for it is well to take
+      an occasional step towards the Kingdom of Heaven,&mdash;that I was certain
+      it was seventy-five.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said the man, &ldquo;perhaps it is, my sight is not so
+      good now. I&rsquo;ve had too much to do here and the work&rsquo;s been
+      using me up some.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I noticed now as he said this how frail he looked as he bent over his
+      counter wrapping up the tooth brush.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve no sealing wax,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;or not handy.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That doesn&rsquo;t matter,&rdquo; I answered, &ldquo;just put it in
+      the paper.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Over the way of course the tooth brush would have been done up almost
+      instantaneously, in white enamel paper, sealed at the end and stamped with
+      a label, as fast as the money paid for it went rattling along an automatic
+      carrier to a cashier.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve been very busy, eh?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, not so much with customers,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but with
+      fixing up the place,&rdquo;&mdash;here he glanced about him. Heaven only
+      knows what he had fixed. There were no visible signs of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see I&rsquo;ve only been in here a couple of months. It was a
+      pretty tough looking place when I came to it. But I&rsquo;ve been getting
+      things fixed. First thing I did I put those two carboys in the window with
+      the lights behind them. They show up fine, don&rsquo;t they?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fine!&rdquo; I repeated; so fine indeed that the dim yellow light
+      in them reached three or four feet from the jar. But for the streaming
+      light from the great store across the street, the windows of the little
+      shop would have been invisible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a good location here,&rdquo; he said. Any one could have
+      told him that it was the worst location within two miles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll get it going presently,&rdquo; he went on. &ldquo;Of
+      course it&rsquo;s uphill just at first. Being such a good location the
+      rent is high. The first two weeks I was here I was losing five dollars a
+      day. But I got those lights in the window and got the stock overhauled a
+      little to make it attractive and last month I reckon I was only losing
+      three dollars a day.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s better,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; he went on, and there was a clear glint of purpose
+      in his eye that contrasted with his sunken cheeks. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll get
+      it going. This last two weeks I&rsquo;m not losing more than say two and a
+      half a day or something like that? The custom is bound to come. You get a
+      place fixed up and made attractive like this and people are sure to come
+      sooner or later.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What it was that was fixed up, and wherein lay the attractiveness I do not
+      know. It could not be seen with the outward eye. Perhaps after two months&rsquo;
+      work of piling dusty boxes now this way, now that, and putting little
+      candles behind the yellow carboys to try the effect, some inward vision
+      came that lighted the place up with an attractiveness wanting even in the
+      glass and marble glitter of the Pharmacy across the way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir,&rdquo; continued the man, &ldquo;I mean to stay with it.
+      I&rsquo;ll get things into shape here, fix it up a little more and soon I&rsquo;ll
+      have it,&rdquo;&mdash;here his face radiated with a vision of hope&mdash;&ldquo;so
+      that I won&rsquo;t lose a single cent.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I looked at him in surprise. So humble an ambition it had never been my
+      lot to encounter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All that bothers me,&rdquo; he went on, &ldquo;is my health. It&rsquo;s
+      a nice business the drug business: I like it, but it takes it out of you.
+      You&rsquo;ve got to be alert and keen all the time; thinking out plans to
+      please the custom when it comes. Often I don&rsquo;t sleep well nights for
+      the rush of it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I looked about the little shop, as gloomy and sleepful as the mausoleum of
+      an eastern king, and wondered by what alchemy of the mind the little
+      druggist found it a very vortex of activity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I can fix my health,&rdquo; he returned&mdash;&ldquo;I may have
+      to get some one in here and go away for a spell. Perhaps I&rsquo;ll do it.
+      The doctor was saying he thought I might take a spell off and think out a
+      few more wrinkles while I&rsquo;m away.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the word &ldquo;doctor&rdquo; I looked at him more warmly, and I saw
+      then what was plain enough to see but for the dim light of the little
+      place,&mdash;the thin flush on the cheek, the hopeful mind, the contrast
+      of the will to live and the need to die, God&rsquo;s little irony on man,
+      it was all there plain enough to read. The &ldquo;spell&rdquo; for which
+      the little druggist was going is that which is written in letters of
+      sorrow over the sunlit desolation of Arizona and the mountains of
+      Colorado.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A month went by before I passed that way again. I looked across at the
+      little store and I read the story in its drawn blinds and the padlock on
+      its door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The little druggist had gone away for a spell. And they told me, on
+      enquiry, that his journey had been no further than to the cemetery behind
+      the town where he lies now, musing, if he still can, on the law of the
+      survival of the fittest in this well-adjusted world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And they say that the shock of the addition of his whole business to the
+      great Pharmacy across the way scarcely disturbed a soda siphon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0031" id="link2H_4_0031"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XVI&mdash;THE FIRST NEWSPAPER
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      A Sort of Allegory
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      How likes it you, Master Brenton?&rdquo; said the brawny journeyman,
+      spreading out the news sheet on a smooth oaken table where it lay under
+      the light of a leaded window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A marvellous fair sheet,&rdquo; murmured Brenton Caxton, seventh of
+      the name, &ldquo;let me but adjust my glasses and peruse it further lest
+      haply there be still aught in it that smacks of error.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It needs not,&rdquo; said the journeyman, &ldquo;&lsquo;tis the
+      fourth time already from the press.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay, nay,&rdquo; answered Master Brenton softly, as he adjusted his
+      great horn-rimmed spectacles and bent his head over the broad damp news
+      sheet before him. &ldquo;Let us grudge no care in this. The venture is a
+      new one and, meseems, a very parlous thing withal. &lsquo;Tis a venture
+      that may easily fail and carry down our fortunes with it, but at least let
+      it not be said that it failed for want of brains in the doing.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fail quotha!&rdquo; said a third man, who had not yet spoken, old,
+      tall and sour of visage and wearing a printer&rsquo;s leather apron. He
+      had moved over from the further side of the room where a little group of
+      apprentices stood beside the wooden presses that occupied the corner, and
+      he was looking over the shoulder of Master Brenton Caxton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How can it do aught else? &lsquo;Tis a mad folly. Mark you, Master
+      Brenton and Master Nick, I have said it from the first and let the blame
+      be none of mine. &lsquo;Tis a mad thing you do here. See then,&rdquo; he
+      went on, turning and waving his hand, &ldquo;this vast room, these great
+      presses, yonder benches and tools, all new, yonder vats of ink straight
+      out of Flanders, how think you you can recover the cost of all this out of
+      yonder poor sheets? Five and forty years have I followed this mystery of
+      printing, ever since thy grandfather&rsquo;s day, Master Brenton, and
+      never have I seen the like. What needed this great chamber when your
+      grandfather and father were content with but a garret place, and yonder
+      presses that can turn off four score copies in the compass of a single
+      hour,&mdash;&lsquo;Tis mad folly, I say.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The moment was an interesting one. The speakers were in a great room with
+      a tall ceiling traversed by blackened beams. From the street below there
+      came dimly through the closed casements the sound of rumbling traffic and
+      the street cries of the London of the seventeenth century. Two vast
+      presses of such colossal size that their wooden levers would tax the
+      strength of the stoutest apprentice, were ranged against the further wall.
+      About the room, spread out on oaken chairs and wooden benches, were flat
+      boxes filled with leaden type, freshly molten, and a great pile of paper,
+      larger than a man could lift, stood in a corner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The first English newspaper in history was going to press. Those who in
+      later ages,&mdash;editors, printers, and workers&mdash;have participated
+      in the same scene, can form some idea of the hopes and fears, the doubts
+      and the difficulties, with which the first newspaper was ushered into the
+      world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Master Brenton Caxton turned upon the last speaker the undisturbed look of
+      the eye that sees far across the present into the years to come.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay, Edward,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you have laboured over much in
+      the past and see not into the future. You think this chamber too great for
+      our purpose? I tell you the time will come when not this room alone but
+      three or four such will be needed for our task. Already I have it in my
+      mind that I will divide even this room into portions, with walls shrewdly
+      placed through its length and breadth, so that each that worketh shall sit
+      as it were in his own chamber and there shall stand one at the door and
+      whosoever cometh, to whatever part of our task his business appertains, he
+      shall forthwith be brought to the room of him that hath charge of it.
+      Cometh he with a madrigal or other light poesy that he would set out on
+      the press, he shall find one that has charge of such matters and can
+      discern their true value. Or, cometh he with news of aught that happens in
+      the realm, so shall he be brought instant to the room of him that
+      recordeth such events. Or, if so be, he would write a discourse on what
+      seemeth him some wise conceit touching the public concerns, he shall find
+      to his hand a convenient desk with ink and quills and all that he needeth
+      to set it straightway on paper; thus shall there be a great abundance of
+      written matter to our hand so that not many days shall elapse after one of
+      our news sheets goes abroad before there be matter enough to fill another.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Days!&rdquo; said the aged printer, &ldquo;think you you can fill
+      one of these news sheets in a few days! Where indeed if you search the
+      whole realm will you find talk enough in a single week to fill out this
+      great sheet half an ell wide!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay, days indeed!&rdquo; broke in Master Nicholas, the younger
+      journeyman. &ldquo;Master Brenton speaks truth, or less than truth. For
+      not days indeed, but in the compass of a single day, I warrant you, shall
+      we find the matter withal.&rdquo; Master Nicholas spoke with the same
+      enthusiasm as his chief, but with less of the dreamer in his voice and
+      eye, and with more swift eagerness of the practical man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fill it, indeed,&rdquo; he went on. &ldquo;Why, Gad Zooks! man! who
+      knoweth what happenings there are and what not till one essays the
+      gathering of them! And should it chance that there is nothing of greater
+      import, no boar hunt of his Majesty to record, nor the news of some great
+      entertainment by one of the Lords of the Court, then will we put in lesser
+      matter, aye whatever comes to hand, the talk of his Majesty&rsquo;s
+      burgesses in the Parliament or any such things.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hear him!&rdquo; sneered the printer, &ldquo;the talk of his
+      Majesty&rsquo;s burgesses in Westminster, forsooth! And what clerk or
+      learned person would care to read of such? Or think you that His Majesty&rsquo;s
+      Chamberlain would long bear that such idle chatter should be bruited
+      abroad. If you can find no worthier thing for this our news sheet than the
+      talk of the Burgesses, then shall it fail indeed. Had it been the speech
+      of the King&rsquo;s great barons and the bishops twere different. But dost
+      fancy that the great barons would allow that their weighty discourses be
+      reduced to common speech so that even the vulgar may read it and haply
+      here and there fathom their very thought itself,&mdash;and the bishops,
+      the great prelates, to submit their ideas to the vulgar hand of a common
+      printer, framing them into mere sentences! &lsquo;Tis unthinkable that
+      they would sanction it!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye,&rdquo; murmured Caxton in his dreaming voice, &ldquo;the time
+      shall come, Master Edward, when they will not only sanction it but seek
+      it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look you,&rdquo; broke in Master Nick, &ldquo;let us have done with
+      this talk? Whether there be enough happenings or not enough,&rdquo;&mdash;and
+      here he spoke with a kindling eye and looked about him at the little group
+      of apprentices and printers, who had drawn near to listen, &ldquo;if there
+      be not enough, then will I MAKE THINGS HAPPEN. What is easier than to tell
+      of happenings forth of the realm of which no man can know,&mdash;some talk
+      of the Grand Turk and the war that he makes, or some happenings in the New
+      Land found by Master Columbus. Aye,&rdquo; he went on, warming to his
+      words and not knowing that he embodied in himself the first birth on earth
+      of the telegraphic editor,&mdash;&ldquo;and why not. One day we write it
+      out on our sheet &lsquo;The Grand Turk maketh disastrous war on the
+      Bulgars of the North and hath burnt divers of their villages.&rsquo; And
+      that hath no sooner gone forth than we print another sheet saying, It
+      would seem that the villages be not burnt but only scorched, nor doth it
+      appear that the Turk burnt them but that the Bulgars burnt divers villages
+      of the Turk and are sitting now in his mosque in the city of Hadrian.&rsquo;
+      Then shall all men run to and fro and read the sheet and question and ask,
+      &lsquo;Is it thus?&rsquo; And, &lsquo;Is it thus?&rsquo; and by very
+      uncertainty of circumstances, they shall demand the more curiously to see
+      the news sheet and read it.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay, nay, Master Nick,&rdquo; said Brenton, firmly, &ldquo;that
+      will I never allow. Let us make it to ourselves a maxim that all that
+      shall be said in this news sheet, or &lsquo;news paper,&rsquo; as my
+      conceit would fain call it, for be it not made of paper (here a merry
+      laugh of the apprentices greeted the quaint fancy of the Master), shall be
+      of ascertained verity and fact indisputable. Should the Grand Turk make
+      war and should the rumour of it come to these isles, then will we say
+      &lsquo;The Turk maketh war,&rsquo; and should the Turk be at peace, then
+      we will say &lsquo;The Turk it doth appear is now at peace.&rsquo; And
+      should no news come, then shall we say &lsquo;In good sooth we know not
+      whether the Turk destroyeth the Bulgars or whether he doth not, for while
+      some hold that he harasseth them sorely, others have it that he harasseth
+      them not, whereby we are sore put to it to know whether there be war or
+      peace, nor do we desire to vex the patience of those who read by any
+      further discourse on the matter, other than to say that we ourselves are
+      in doubt what be and what be not truth, nor will we any further speak of
+      it other than this.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Those about Caxton listened with awe to this speech. They did not,&mdash;they
+      could not know,&mdash;that this was the birth of the Leading Article, but
+      there was something in the strangely fascinating way in which their chief
+      enlarged upon his own ignorance that foreshowed to the meanest
+      intelligence the possibilities of the future.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nicholas shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Tis a poor plan, Master Brenton,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;the
+      folk wish news, give them the news. The more thou givest them, the better
+      pleased they are and thus doth the news sheet move from hand to hand till
+      it may be said (if I too may coin a phrase) to increase vastly its &lsquo;circulation&rsquo;&mdash;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In sooth,&rdquo; said Master Brenton, looking at Nicholas with a
+      quiet expression that was not exempt from a certain slyness, &ldquo;there
+      I do hold thou art in the wrong, even as a matter of craft or policie. For
+      it seems to me that if our paper speaketh first this and then that but
+      hath no fixed certainty of truth, sooner or later will all its talk seem
+      vain, and no man will heed it. But if it speak always the truth, then
+      sooner or later shall all come to believe it and say of any happening,
+      &lsquo;It standeth written in the paper, therefore it is so.&rsquo; And
+      here I charge you all that have any part in this new venture,&rdquo;
+      continued Master Brenton, looking about the room at the listening faces
+      and speaking with great seriousness, &ldquo;let us lay it to our hearts
+      that our maxim shall be truth and truth alone. Let no man set his hand to
+      aught that shall go upon our presses save only that which is assured
+      truth. In this way shall our venture ever be pleasing to the Most High,
+      and I do verily believe,&rdquo;&mdash;and here Caxton&rsquo;s voice sank
+      lower as if he were thinking aloud,&mdash;&ldquo;in the long run, it will
+      be mighty good for our circulation.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The speaker paused. Then turning to the broad sheet before him, he began
+      to scan its columns with his eye. The others stood watching him as he
+      read.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is this, Master Edward,&rdquo; he queried presently, &ldquo;here
+      I see in this first induct, or column, as one names it, the word King
+      fairly and truly spelled. Lower down it standeth Kyng, and yet further in
+      the second induct Kynge, and in the last induct where there is talk of His
+      Majesty&rsquo;s marvelous skill in the French game of palm or tennis, lo
+      the word stands Quhyngge! How sayeth thou?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wouldst have it written always in but one and the same way?&rdquo;
+      asked the printer in astonishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye, truly,&rdquo; said Caxton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With never any choice, or variation to suit the fancy of him who
+      reads so that he who likes it written King may see it so, and yet also he
+      who would prefer it written in a freer style, or Quhyngge, may also find
+      it so and thus both be pleased.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will I never have!&rdquo; said Master Brenton firmly, &ldquo;dost
+      not remember, friend, the old tale in the fabula of Aesopus of him who
+      would please all men. Here will I make another maxim for our newspaper.
+      All men we cannot please, for in pleasing one belike we run counter to
+      another. Let us set our hand to write always without fear. Let us seek
+      favour with none. Always in our news sheet we will seek to speak dutifully
+      and with all reverence of the King his Majesty: let us also speak with all
+      respect and commendation of His Majesty&rsquo;s great prelates and nobles,
+      for are they not the exalted of the land? Also I would have it that we say
+      nothing harsh against our wealthy merchants and burgesses, for hath not
+      the Lord prospered them in their substances. Yea, friends, let us speak
+      ever well of the King, the clergy, the nobility and of all persons of
+      wealth and substantial holdings. But beyond this&rdquo;&mdash;here Brenton
+      Coxton&rsquo;s eye flashed,&mdash;&ldquo;let us speak with utter
+      fearlessness of all men. So shall we be, if I may borrow a mighty good
+      word from Tacitus his Annals, of a complete independence, hanging on to no
+      man. In fact our venture shall be an independent newspaper.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The listeners felt an instinctive awe at the words, and again a strange
+      prescience of the future made itself felt in every mind. Here for the
+      first time in history was being laid down that fine, fearless creed that
+      has made the independent press what it is.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meantime Caxton continued to glance his eye over the news sheet, murmuring
+      his comments on what he saw,&mdash;&ldquo;Ah! vastly fine, Master
+      Nicholas,&mdash;this of the sailing of His Majesty&rsquo;s ships for
+      Spain,&mdash;and this, too, of the Doge of Venice, his death, &lsquo;tis
+      brave reading and maketh a fair discourse. Here also this likes me,
+      &lsquo;tis shrewdly devised,&rdquo; and here he placed his finger on a
+      particular spot on the news sheet,&mdash;&ldquo;here in speaking of the
+      strange mishap of my Lord Arundel, thou useth a great S for strange, and
+      setteth it in a line all by itself whereby the mind of him that reads is
+      suddenly awakened, alarmed as it were by a bell in the night. &lsquo;Tis
+      good. &lsquo;Tis well. But mark you, friend Nicholas, try it not too
+      often, nor use your great letters too easily. In the case of my Lord
+      Arundel, it is seemly, but for a mishap to a lesser person, let it stand
+      in a more modest fashion.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a pause. Then suddenly Caxton looked up again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What manner of tale is this! What strange thing is here! In faith,
+      Master Nicholas, whence hast thou so marvelous a thing! The whole world
+      must know of it. Harken ye all to this!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Let all men that be troubled of aches, spavins, rheums,
+      boils, maladies of the spleen or humours of the blood, come forthwith to
+      the sign of the Red Lantern in East Cheap. There shall they find one that
+      hath a marvelous remedy for all such ailments, brought with great dangers
+      and perils of the journey from a far distant land. This wonderous balm
+      shall straightway make the sick to be well and the lame to walk. Rubbed on
+      the eye it restoreth sight and applied to the ear it reviveth the hearing.
+      Tis the sole invention of Doctor Gustavus Friedman, sometime of Gottingen
+      and brought by him hitherwards out of the sheer pity of his heart for them
+      that be afflicted, nor shall any other fee be asked for it save only such
+      a light and tender charge as shall defray the cost of Doctor Friedman his
+      coming and going.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Caxton paused and gazed at Master Nicholas in wonder. &ldquo;Whence hadst
+      thou this?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Master Nicholas smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had it of a chapman, or travelling doctor, who was most urgent
+      that we set it forth straightway on the press.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And is it true?&rdquo; asked Caxton; &ldquo;thou hast it of a full
+      surety of knowledge?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nicholas laughed lightly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;True or false, I know not,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but the fellow
+      was so curious that we should print it that he gave me two golden laurels
+      and a new sovereign on the sole understanding that we should set it forth
+      in print.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was deep silence for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He PAYETH to have it printed!&rdquo; said Caxton, deeply impressed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye,&rdquo; said Master Nicholas, &ldquo;he payeth and will pay
+      more. The fellow hath other balms equally potent. All of these he would
+      admonish, or shall I say advert, the public.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So,&rdquo; said Caxton, thoughtfully, &ldquo;he wishes to make, if
+      I may borrow a phrase of Albertus Magnus, an advertisement of his goods.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Even so,&rdquo; said Nicholas.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see,&rdquo; said the Master, &ldquo;he payeth us. We advert the
+      goods. Forthwith all men buy them. Then hath he more money. He payeth us
+      again. We advert the goods more and still he payeth us. That would seem to
+      me, friend Nick, a mighty good busyness for us.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So it is,&rdquo; rejoined Nicholas, &ldquo;and after him others
+      will come to advert other wares until belike a large part of our news
+      sheet,&mdash;who knows? the whole of it, perhaps, shall be made up in the
+      merry guise of advertisements.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Caxton sat silent in deep thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But Master Caxton&rdquo;&mdash;cried the voice of a young
+      apprentice, a mere child, as he seemed, with fair hair and blue eyes
+      filled with the native candour of unsullied youth,&mdash;&ldquo;is this
+      tale true!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What sayest thou, Warwick?&rdquo; said the master printer, almost
+      sternly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good master, is the tale of the wonderous balm true?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Boy,&rdquo; said Caxton, &ldquo;Master Nicholas, hath even said, we
+      know not if it is true.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But didst thou not charge us,&rdquo; pleaded the boy, &ldquo;that
+      all that went under our hand into the press should be truth and truth
+      alone?&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did,&rdquo; said Caxton thoughtfully, &ldquo;but I spoke perhaps
+      somewhat in overhaste. I see that we must here distinguish. Whether this
+      is true or not we cannot tell. But it is PAID FOR, and that lifts it, as
+      who should say, out of the domain of truth. The very fact that it is paid
+      for giveth it, as it were, a new form of merit, a verity altogether its
+      own.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay, ay,&rdquo; said Nicholas, with a twinkle in his shrewd eyes,
+      &ldquo;entirely its own.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed so,&rdquo; said Caxton, &ldquo;and here let us make to
+      ourselves another and a final maxim of guidance. All things that any man
+      will pay for, these we will print, whether true or not, for that doth not
+      concern us. But if one cometh here with any strange tale of a remedy or
+      aught else and wishes us to make advertisement of it and hath no money to
+      pay for it, then shall he be cast forth out of this officina, or office,
+      if I may call it so, neck and crop into the street. Nay, I will have me
+      one of great strength ever at the door ready for such castings.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A murmur of approval went round the group.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Caxton would have spoken further but at the moment the sound of a bell was
+      heard booming in the street without.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Tis the Great Bell,&rdquo; said Caxton, &ldquo;ringing out
+      the hour of noon. Quick, all of you to your task. Lay me the forms on the
+      press and speed me the work. We start here a great adventure. Mark well
+      the maxims I have given you, and God speed our task.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And in another hour or so, the prentice boys of the master printer were
+      calling in the streets the sale of the first English newspaper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0032" id="link2H_4_0032"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XVII&mdash;IN THE GOOD TIME AFTER THE WAR
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      [Footnote: An extract from a London newspaper of 1916.]
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      HOUSE OF COMMONS REPORT
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      The Prime Minister in rising said that he thought the time had now come
+      when the House might properly turn its attention again to domestic
+      affairs. The foreign world was so tranquil that there was really nothing
+      of importance which need be brought to the attention of the House.
+      Members, however, would, perhaps, be glad to learn incidentally that a new
+      and more comfortable cage had been supplied for the ex-German Emperor, and
+      that the ex-Crown Prince was now showing distinct signs of intelligence,
+      and was even able to eat quite quietly out of his keeper&rsquo;s hand.
+      Members would be gratified to know that at last the Hohenzollern family
+      were able to abstain from snapping at the hand that fed them. But he would
+      now turn to the subject of Home Rule.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here the House was seen to yawn noticeably, and a general lack of interest
+      was visible, especially among the Nationalist and Ulster members. A number
+      of members were seen to rise as if about to move to the refreshment- room.
+      Mr. John Redmond and Sir Edward Carson were seen walking arm in arm
+      towards the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prime Minister. &ldquo;Will the members kindly keep their seats? We
+      are about to hold a discussion on Home Rule. Members will surely recall
+      that this form of discussion was one of our favourite exercises only a
+      year or so ago. I trust that members have not lost interest in the
+      subject.&rdquo; (General laughter among the members, and cries of &ldquo;Cut
+      it out!&rdquo; &ldquo;What is it?&rdquo;)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prime Minister (with some asperity). &ldquo;Members are well aware
+      what Home Rule meant. It was a plan&mdash;or rather it was a scheme&mdash;that
+      is to say, it was an act of parliament, or I should say a bill, in fact,
+      Mr. Speaker, I don&rsquo;t mind confessing that, not having my papers with
+      me, I am unable to inform the House just what Home Rule was. I think,
+      perhaps, the Ex-Minister of Munitions has a copy of last year&rsquo;s
+      bill.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Lloyd George rising, with evident signs of boredom. &ldquo;The House
+      will excuse me. I am tired. I have been out all day aeroplaning with Mr.
+      Churchill and Mr. Bonar Law, with a view to inspect the new national
+      training camp. I had the Home Rule Bill with me along with the Welsh
+      Disestablishment Bill and the Land Bill, and I am afraid that I lost the
+      whole bally lot of them; dropped them into the sea or something. I hope
+      the Speaker will overlook the term &lsquo;bally.&rsquo; It may not be
+      parliamentary.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Speaker (laughing). &ldquo;Tut, tut, never mind a little thing like
+      that. I am sure that after all that we have gone through together, the
+      House is quite agreed that a little thing like parliamentary procedure
+      doesn&rsquo;t matter.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Lloyd George (humbly). &ldquo;Still I am sorry for the term. I&rsquo;d
+      like to withdraw it. I separate or distinguish in any degree the men of
+      Ulster from the men of Tipperary, and the heart of Belfast from the heart
+      of Dublin.&rdquo; (Loud cheers.)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Redmond (springing forward). &ldquo;And I&rsquo;ll say this: Not I,
+      nor any man of Ireland, Dublin, Belfast, or Connaught will ever set our
+      hands or names to any bill that shall separate Ireland in any degree from
+      the rest of the Empire. Work out, if you like, a new scheme of government.
+      If the financial clauses are intricate, get one of your treasury clerks to
+      solve them. If there&rsquo;s trouble in arranging your excise on your
+      customs, settle it in any way you please. But it is too late now to
+      separate England and Ireland. We&rsquo;ve held the flag of the Empire in
+      our hand. We mean to hold it in our grasp forever. We have seen its
+      colours tinged a brighter red with the best of Ireland&rsquo;s blood, and
+      that proud stain shall stay forever as the symbol of the unity of Irish
+      and the English people.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      (Loud cheers ring through the House; several members rise in great
+      excitement, all shouting and speaking together.) There is heard the voice
+      of Mr. Angus McCluskey, Member for the Hebrides, calling&mdash;&ldquo;And
+      ye&rsquo;ll no forget Scotland, me lad, when you talk of unity! Do you
+      mind the Forty-Second, and the London Scottish in the trenches of the
+      Aisne? Wha carried the flag of the Empire then? Unity, ma friends, ye&rsquo;ll
+      never break it. It may involve a wee bit sacrifice for Scotland
+      financially speaking. I&rsquo;ll no say no to a reveesion of the monetairy
+      terms, if ye suggest it,&mdash;but for unita&mdash;Scotland and the
+      Empire, now and forever!&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A great number of members have risen in their seats. Mr. Open Ap Owen
+      Glendower is calling: &ldquo;Aye and Wales! never forget Wales.&rdquo; Mr.
+      Trevelyan Trendinning of Cornwall has started singing &ldquo;And shall
+      Trelawney Die?&rdquo;&mdash;while the deep booming of &ldquo;Rule
+      Britannia&rdquo; from five hundred throats ascends to the very rafters of
+      the House.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Speaker laughing and calling for order, while two of the more elderly
+      clerks are beating with the mace on the table,&mdash;&ldquo;Gentlemen,
+      gentlemen, I have a proposal to make. I have just learned that there is at
+      the Alhambra in Leicester Square, a real fine moving picture show of the
+      entrance of the Allies into Berlin. Let&rsquo;s all go to it. We can leave
+      a committee of the three youngest members to stay behind and draw up a new
+      government for Ireland. Even they can&rsquo;t go wrong now as to what we
+      want.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Loud Cheers as the House empties, singing &ldquo;It was a Long Way to
+      Tipperary, but the way lay through Berlin.&rdquo;
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 6em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+  </body>
+</html>
diff --git a/old/4064.txt b/old/4064.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7d6b715
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/4064.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,5923 @@
+Project Gutenberg's Moonbeams From the Larger Lunacy by Stephen Leacock
+#4 in our series by Stephen Leacock.
+
+Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check
+the laws for your country before redistributing these files!!!
+
+Please take a look at the important information in this header.
+We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an
+electronic path open for the next readers.
+
+Please do not remove this.
+
+This should be the first thing seen when anyone opens the book.
+Do not change or edit it without written permission.  The words
+are carefully chosen to provide users with the information they
+need about what they can legally do with the texts.
+
+
+**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
+
+**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
+
+*****These Etexts Are Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
+
+Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and
+further information is included below, including for donations.
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a 501(c)(3)
+organization with EIN [Employee Identification Number] 64-6221541
+
+
+
+Title: Moonbeams From the Larger Lunacy
+
+Author: Stephen Leacock
+
+Release Date: May, 2003  [Etext #4064]
+[Yes, we are about one year ahead of schedule]
+[The actual date this file first posted = 10/30/01]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Project Gutenberg's Moonbeams From the Larger Lunacy by Stephen Leacock
+**********This file should be named 4064.txt or 4064.zip*********
+
+This etext was produced by Gardner Buchanan with help from the
+distributed proofers at http://charlz.dynip.com/gutenberg
+
+
+Project Gutenberg Etexts are usually created from multiple editions,
+all of which are in the Public Domain in the United States, unless a
+copyright notice is included.  Therefore, we usually do NOT keep any
+of these books in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+We are now trying to release all our books one year in advance
+of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing.
+Please be encouraged to send us error messages even years after
+the official publication date.
+
+Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til
+midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.
+The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at
+Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month.  A
+preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment
+and editing by those who wish to do so.
+
+Most people start at our sites at:
+https://gutenberg.org
+http://promo.net/pg
+
+
+Those of you who want to download any Etext before announcement
+can surf to them as follows, and just download by date; this is
+also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the
+indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an
+announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter.
+
+http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext03
+or
+ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext03
+
+Or /etext02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90
+
+Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want,
+as it appears in our Newsletters.
+
+
+Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)
+
+We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work.  The
+time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours
+to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright
+searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc.  This
+projected audience is one hundred million readers.  If our value
+per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2
+million dollars per hour this year as we release fifty new Etext
+files per month, or 500 more Etexts in 2000 for a total of 3000+
+If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total
+should reach over 300 billion Etexts given away by year's end.
+
+The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext
+Files by December 31, 2001.  [10,000 x 100,000,000 = 1 Trillion]
+This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers,
+which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users.
+
+At our revised rates of production, we will reach only one-third
+of that goal by the end of 2001, or about 4,000 Etexts unless we
+manage to get some real funding.
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created
+to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+As of July 12, 2001 contributions are only being solicited from people in:
+Arkansas, Colorado, Connecticut, Delaware, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Idaho,
+Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, Minnesota,
+Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, New Mexico, Nevada, New Jersey, New York, North
+Carolina, Ohio, Oklahoma, Oregon, Rhode Island, South Carolina*, South Dakota,
+Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West Virginia,
+Wisconsin, and Wyoming.
+
+*In Progress
+
+We have filed in about 45 states now, but these are the only ones
+that have responded.
+
+As the requirements for other states are met,
+additions to this list will be made and fund raising
+will begin in the additional states.  Please feel
+free to ask to check the status of your state.
+
+In answer to various questions we have received on this:
+
+We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork
+to legally request donations in all 50 states.  If
+your state is not listed and you would like to know
+if we have added it since the list you have, just ask.
+
+While we cannot solicit donations from people in
+states where we are not yet registered, we know
+of no prohibition against accepting donations
+from donors in these states who approach us with
+an offer to donate.
+
+
+International donations are accepted,
+but we don't know ANYTHING about how
+to make them tax-deductible, or
+even if they CAN be made deductible,
+and don't have the staff to handle it
+even if there are ways.
+
+All donations should be made to:
+
+Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+PMB 113
+1739 University Ave.
+Oxford, MS 38655-4109
+
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a 501(c)(3)
+organization with EIN [Employee Identification Number] 64-6221541,
+and has been approved as a 501(c)(3) organization by the US Internal
+Revenue Service (IRS).  Donations are tax-deductible to the maximum
+extent permitted by law.  As the requirements for other states are met,
+additions to this list will be made and fund raising will begin in the
+additional states.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+You can get up to date donation information at:
+
+https://www.gutenberg.org/donation.html
+
+
+***
+
+If you can't reach Project Gutenberg,
+you can always email directly to:
+
+Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com>
+
+hart@pobox.com forwards to hart@prairienet.org and archive.org
+if your mail bounces from archive.org, I will still see it, if
+it bounces from prairienet.org, better resend later on. . . .
+
+Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message.
+
+We would prefer to send you information by email.
+
+
+***
+
+
+Example command-line FTP session:
+
+ftp ftp.ibiblio.org
+login: anonymous
+password: your@login
+cd pub/docs/books/gutenberg
+cd etext90 through etext99 or etext00 through etext02, etc.
+dir [to see files]
+get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files]
+GET GUTINDEX.??  [to get a year's listing of books, e.g., GUTINDEX.99]
+GET GUTINDEX.ALL [to get a listing of ALL books]
+
+
+**The Legal Small Print**
+
+
+(Three Pages)
+
+***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START***
+Why is this "Small Print!" statement here?  You know: lawyers.
+They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with
+your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from
+someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our
+fault.  So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement
+disclaims most of our liability to you.  It also tells you how
+you may distribute copies of this etext if you want to.
+
+*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT
+By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
+etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept
+this "Small Print!" statement.  If you do not, you can receive
+a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by
+sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person
+you got it from.  If you received this etext on a physical
+medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request.
+
+ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS
+This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etexts,
+is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart
+through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project").
+Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright
+on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and
+distribute it in the United States without permission and
+without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules, set forth
+below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext
+under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.
+
+Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market
+any commercial products without permission.
+
+To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable
+efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain
+works.  Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any
+medium they may be on may contain "Defects".  Among other
+things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
+intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged
+disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer
+codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.
+
+LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES
+But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below,
+[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may
+receive this etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims
+all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including
+legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR
+UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT,
+INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE
+OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE
+POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES.
+
+If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of
+receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any)
+you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that
+time to the person you received it from.  If you received it
+on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and
+such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement
+copy.  If you received it electronically, such person may
+choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to
+receive it electronically.
+
+THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS".  NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS
+TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT
+LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A
+PARTICULAR PURPOSE.
+
+Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or
+the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the
+above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you
+may have other legal rights.
+
+INDEMNITY
+You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation,
+and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated
+with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
+texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including
+legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the
+following that you do or cause:  [1] distribution of this etext,
+[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the etext,
+or [3] any Defect.
+
+DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm"
+You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by
+disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this
+"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg,
+or:
+
+[1]  Only give exact copies of it.  Among other things, this
+     requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the
+     etext or this "small print!" statement.  You may however,
+     if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable
+     binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form,
+     including any form resulting from conversion by word
+     processing or hypertext software, but only so long as
+     *EITHER*:
+
+     [*]  The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and
+          does *not* contain characters other than those
+          intended by the author of the work, although tilde
+          (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may
+          be used to convey punctuation intended by the
+          author, and additional characters may be used to
+          indicate hypertext links; OR
+
+     [*]  The etext may be readily converted by the reader at
+          no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent
+          form by the program that displays the etext (as is
+          the case, for instance, with most word processors);
+          OR
+
+     [*]  You provide, or agree to also provide on request at
+          no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the
+          etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC
+          or other equivalent proprietary form).
+
+[2]  Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this
+     "Small Print!" statement.
+
+[3]  Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the
+     gross profits you derive calculated using the method you
+     already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  If you
+     don't derive profits, no royalty is due.  Royalties are
+     payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation"
+     the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were
+     legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent
+     periodic) tax return.  Please contact us beforehand to
+     let us know your plans and to work out the details.
+
+WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
+Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of
+public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed
+in machine readable form.
+
+The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time,
+public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses.
+Money should be paid to the:
+"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or
+software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at:
+hart@pobox.com
+
+[Portions of this header are copyright (C) 2001 by Michael S. Hart
+and may be reprinted only when these Etexts are free of all fees.]
+[Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be used in any sales
+of Project Gutenberg Etexts or other materials be they hardware or
+software or any other related product without express permission.]
+
+*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.10/04/01*END*
+
+
+
+This etext was produced by Gardner Buchanan with help from the
+distributed proofers at http://charlz.dynip.com/gutenberg
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+The prudent husbandman, after having taken from his field
+all the straw that is there, rakes it over with a wooden
+rake and gets as much again. The wise child, after the
+lemonade jug is empty, takes the lemons from the bottom
+of it and squeezes them into a still larger brew. So does
+the sagacious author, after having sold his material to
+the magazines and been paid for it, clap it into book-covers
+and give it another squeeze. But in the present case the
+author is of a nice conscience and anxious to place
+responsibility where it is due. He therefore wishes to
+make all proper acknowledgments to the editors of Vanity
+Fair, The American Magazine, The Popular Magazine, Life,
+Puck, The Century, Methuen's Annual, and all others who
+are in any way implicated in the making of this book.
+
+STEPHEN LEACOCK.
+
+McGill University,
+Montreal.
+Oct. 1, 1915.
+
+
+
+  CONTENTS
+
+    I SPOOF: A Thousand-Guinea Novel
+   II THE READING PUBLIC
+  III AFTERNOON ADVENTURES AT MY CLUB
+        l--The Anecdotes of Dr. So and So
+        2--The Shattered Health of Mr. Podge
+        3--The Amazing Travels of Mr. Yarner
+        4--The Spiritual Outlook of Mr. Doomer
+        5--The Reminiscences of Mr. Apricot
+        6--The Last Man Out of Europe
+        7--The War Mania of Mr. Jinks and Mr. Blinks
+        8--The Ground Floor
+        9--The Hallucination of Mr. Butt
+   IV RAM SPUDD
+    V ARISTOCRATIC ANECDOTES
+   VI EDUCATION MADE AGREEABLE
+  VII AN EVERY-DAY EXPERIENCE
+ VIII TRUTHFUL ORATORY
+   IX OUR LITERARY BUREAU
+    X SPEEDING UP BUSINESS
+   XI WHO IS ALSO WHO
+  XII PASSIONATE PARAGRAPHS
+ XIII WEEJEE THE PET DOG
+  XIV SIDELIGHTS ON THE SUPERMEN
+   XV THE SURVIVAL or THE FITTEST
+  XVI THE FIRST NEWSPAPER
+ XVII IN THE GOOD TIME AFTER THE WAR
+
+
+
+I.--Spoof. A Thousand-Guinea Novel. New! Fascinating!
+Perplexing!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+Readers are requested to note that this novel has taken
+our special prize of a cheque for a thousand guineas.
+This alone guarantees for all intelligent readers a
+palpitating interest in every line of it. Among the
+thousands of MSS. which reached us--many of them coming
+in carts early in the morning, and moving in a dense
+phalanx, indistinguishable from the Covent Garden Market
+waggons; others pouring down our coal-chute during the
+working hours of the day; and others again being slipped
+surreptitiously into our letter-box by pale, timid girls,
+scarcely more than children, after nightfall (in fact
+many of them came in their night-gowns),--this manuscript
+alone was the sole one--in fact the only one--to receive
+the prize of a cheque of a thousand guineas. To other
+competitors we may have given, inadvertently perhaps, a
+bag of sovereigns or a string of pearls, but to this
+story alone is awarded the first prize by the unanimous
+decision of our judges.
+
+When we say that the latter body included two members of
+the Cabinet, two Lords of the Admiralty, and two bishops,
+with power in case of dispute to send all the MSS. to
+the Czar of Russia, our readers will breathe a sigh of
+relief to learn that the decision was instant and unanimous.
+Each one of them, in reply to our telegram, answered
+immediately SPOOF.
+
+This novel represents the last word in up-to-date fiction.
+It is well known that the modern novel has got far beyond
+the point of mere story-telling. The childish attempt to
+INTEREST the reader has long since been abandoned by all
+the best writers. They refuse to do it.  The modern novel
+must convey a message, or else it must paint a picture,
+or remove a veil, or open a new chapter in human psychology.
+Otherwise it is no good. SPOOF does all of these things.
+The reader rises from its perusal perplexed, troubled,
+and yet so filled with information that rising itself is
+a difficulty.
+
+We cannot, for obvious reasons, insert the whole of the
+first chapter. But the portion here presented was praised
+by The Saturday Afternoon Review as giving one of the
+most graphic and at the same time realistic pictures of
+America ever written in fiction.
+
+Of the characters whom our readers are to imagine seated
+on the deck--on one of the many decks (all connected by
+elevators)--of the Gloritania, one word may be said. Vere
+de Lancy is (as the reviewers have under oath declared)
+a typical young Englishman of the upper class. He is
+nephew to the Duke of--, but of this fact no one on
+the ship, except the captain, the purser, the steward,
+and the passengers are, or is, aware.
+
+In order entirely to conceal his identity, Vere de Lancy
+is travelling under the assumed name of Lancy de Vere.
+In order the better to hide the object of his journey,
+Lancy de Vere (as we shall now call him, though our
+readers will be able at any moment to turn his name
+backwards) has given it to be understood that he is
+travelling merely as a gentleman anxious to see America.
+This naturally baffles all those in contact with him.
+
+The girl at his side--but perhaps we may best let her
+speak for herself.
+
+Somehow as they sat together on the deck of the great
+steamer in the afterglow of the sunken sun, listening to
+the throbbing of the propeller (a rare sound which neither
+of them of course had ever heard before), de Vere felt
+that he must speak to her. Something of the mystery of
+the girl fascinated him. What was she doing here alone
+with no one but her mother and her maid, on the bosom of
+the Atlantic? Why was she here? Why was she not somewhere
+else? The thing puzzled, perplexed him. It would not let
+him alone. It fastened upon his brain. Somehow he felt
+that if he tried to drive it away, it might nip him in
+the ankle.
+
+In the end he spoke.
+
+"And you, too," he said, leaning over her deck-chair,
+"are going to America?"
+
+He had suspected this ever since the boat left Liverpool.
+Now at length he framed his growing conviction into words.
+
+"Yes," she assented, and then timidly, "it is 3,213 miles
+wide, is it not?"
+
+"Yes," he said, "and 1,781 miles deep! It reaches from
+the forty-ninth parallel to the Gulf of Mexico."
+
+"Oh," cried the girl, "what a vivid picture!  I seem to
+see it."
+
+"Its major axis," he went on, his voice sinking almost
+to a caress, "is formed by the Rocky Mountains, which
+are practically a prolongation of the Cordilleran Range.
+It is drained," he continued--
+
+"How splendid!" said the girl.
+
+"Yes, is it not? It is drained by the Mississippi, by
+the St. Lawrence, and--dare I say it?--by the Upper
+Colorado."
+
+Somehow his hand had found hers in the half gloaming,
+but she did not check him.
+
+"Go on," she said very simply; "I think I ought to hear
+it."
+
+"The great central plain of the interior," he continued,
+"is formed by a vast alluvial deposit carried down as
+silt by the Mississippi. East of this the range of the
+Alleghanies, nowhere more than eight thousand feet in
+height, forms a secondary or subordinate axis from which
+the watershed falls to the Atlantic."
+
+He was speaking very quietly but earnestly.  No man had
+ever spoken to her like this before.
+
+"What a wonderful picture!" she murmured half to herself,
+half aloud, and half not aloud and half not to herself.
+
+"Through the whole of it," de Vere went on, "there run
+railways, most of them from east to west, though a few
+run from west to east.  The Pennsylvania system alone
+has twenty-one thousand miles of track."
+
+"Twenty-one thousand miles," she repeated; already she
+felt her will strangely subordinate to his.
+
+He was holding her hand firmly clasped in his and looking
+into her face.
+
+"Dare I tell you," he whispered, "how many employees it
+has?"
+
+"Yes," she gasped, unable to resist.
+
+"A hundred and fourteen thousand," he said.
+
+There was silence. They were both thinking. Presently
+she spoke, timidly.
+
+"Are there any cities there?"
+
+"Cities!" he said enthusiastically, "ah, yes!  let me
+try to give you a word-picture of them.  Vast cities--with
+tall buildings, reaching to the very sky. Why, for
+instance, the new Woolworth Building in New York--"
+
+"Yes, yes," she broke in quickly, "how high is it?"
+
+"Seven hundred and fifty feet."
+
+The girl turned and faced him.
+
+"Don't," she said. "I can't bear it. Some other time,
+perhaps, but not now."
+
+She had risen and was gathering up her wraps. "And you,"
+she said, "why are you going to America?"
+
+"Why?" he answered. "Because I want to see, to know, to
+learn. And when I have learned and seen and known, I want
+other people to see and to learn and to know. I want to
+write it all down, all the vast palpitating picture of
+it. Ah! if I only could--I want to see" (and here he
+passed his hand through his hair as if trying to remember)
+"something of the relations of labour and capital, of
+the extraordinary development of industrial machinery,
+of the new and intricate organisation of corporation
+finance, and in particular I want to try to analyse--no
+one has ever done it yet--the men who guide and drive
+it all. I want to set down the psychology of the
+multimillionaire!"
+
+He paused. The girl stood irresolute. She was thinking
+(apparently, for if not, why stand there?).
+
+"Perhaps," she faltered, "I could help you."
+
+"You!"
+
+"Yes, I might." She hesitated. "I--I--come from America."
+
+"You!" said de Vere in astonishment.  "With a face and
+voice like yours! It is impossible!"
+
+The boldness of the compliment held her speechless for
+a moment.
+
+"I do," she said; "my people lived just outside of Cohoes."
+
+"They couldn't have," he said passionately.
+
+"I shouldn't speak to you like this," the girl went on,
+"but it's because I feel from what you have said that
+you know and love America.  And I think I can help you."
+
+"You mean," he said, divining her idea, "that you can
+help me to meet a multimillionaire?"
+
+"Yes," she answered, still hesitating.
+
+"You know one?"
+
+"Yes," still hesitating, "I know ONE."
+
+She seemed about to say more, her lips had already opened,
+when suddenly the dull raucous blast of the foghorn (they
+used a raucous one on this ship on purpose) cut the night
+air. Wet fog rolled in about them, wetting everything.
+
+The girl shivered.
+
+"I must go," she said; "good night."
+
+For a moment de Vere was about to detain her. The wild
+thought leaped to his mind to ask her her name or at
+least her mother's.  With a powerful effort he checked
+himself.
+
+"Good night," he said.
+
+She was gone.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+Limits of space forbid the insertion of the whole of this
+chapter. Its opening contains one of the most vivid
+word-pictures of the inside of an American customs house
+ever pictured in words. From the customs wharf de Vere
+is driven in a taxi to the Belmont.  Here he engages a
+room; here, too, he sleeps; here also, though cautiously
+at first, he eats.  All this is so admirably described
+that only those who have driven in a taxi to an hotel
+and slept there can hope to appreciate it.
+
+Limits of space also forbid our describing in full de
+Vere's vain quest in New York of the beautiful creature
+whom he had met on the steamer and whom he had lost from
+sight in the aigrette department of the customs house.
+A thousand times he cursed his folly in not having asked
+her name.
+
+Meanwhile no word comes from her, till suddenly,
+mysteriously, unexpectedly, on the fourth day a note is
+handed to de Vere by the Third Assistant Head Waiter of
+the Belmont.  It is addressed in a lady's hand. He tears
+it open. It contains only the written words, "Call on
+Mr. J. Superman Overgold. He is a multimillionaire. He
+expects you."
+
+To leap into a taxi (from the third story of the Belmont)
+was the work of a moment.  To drive to the office of Mr.
+Overgold was less.  The portion of the novel which follows
+is perhaps the most notable part of it. It is this part
+of the chapter which the Hibbert Journal declares to be
+the best piece of psychological analysis that appears in
+any novel of the season. We reproduce it here.
+
+"Exactly, exactly," said de Vere, writing rapidly in his
+note-book as he sat in one of the deep leather armchairs
+of the luxurious office of Mr. Overgold. "So you sometimes
+feel as if the whole thing were not worth while."
+
+"I do," said Mr. Overgold. "I can't help asking myself
+what it all means. Is life, after all, merely a series
+of immaterial phenomena, self-developing and based solely
+on sensation and reaction, or is it something else?"
+
+He paused for a moment to sign a cheque for $10,000 and
+throw it out of the window, and then went on, speaking
+still with the terse brevity of a man of business.
+
+"Is sensation everywhere or is there perception too? On
+what grounds, if any, may the hypothesis of a
+self-explanatory consciousness be rejected? In how far
+are we warranted in supposing that innate ideas are
+inconsistent with pure materialism?"
+
+De Vere listened, fascinated. Fortunately for himself,
+he was a University man, fresh from the examination halls
+of his Alma Mater.  He was able to respond at once.
+
+"I think," he said modestly, "I grasp your thought. You
+mean--to what extent are we prepared to endorse Hegel's
+dictum of immaterial evolution?"
+
+"Exactly," said Mr. Overgold. "How far, if at all, do we
+substantiate the Kantian hypothesis of the transcendental?"
+
+"Precisely," said de Vere eagerly. "And for what reasons
+[naming them] must we reject Spencer's theory of the
+unknowable?"
+
+"Entirely so," continued Mr. Overgold.  "And why, if at
+all, does Bergsonian illusionism differ from pure
+nothingness?"
+
+They both paused.
+
+Mr. Overgold had risen. There was great weariness in his
+manner.
+
+"It saddens one, does it not?" he said.
+
+He had picked up a bundle of Panama two per cent. gold
+bonds and was looking at them in contempt.
+
+"The emptiness of it all!" he muttered. He extended the
+bonds to de Vere.
+
+"Do you want them," he said, "or shall I throw them away?"
+
+"Give them to me," said de Vere quietly; "they are not
+worth the throwing."
+
+"No, no," said Mr. Overgold, speaking half to himself,
+as he replaced the bonds in his desk.  "It is a burden
+that I must carry alone. I have no right to ask any one
+to share it. But come," he continued, "I fear I am sadly
+lacking in the duties of international hospitality. I am
+forgetting what I owe to Anglo-American courtesy. I am
+neglecting the new obligations of our common Indo-Chinese
+policy. My motor is at the door. Pray let me take you to
+my house to lunch."
+
+De Vere assented readily, telephoned to the Belmont not
+to keep lunch waiting for him, and in a moment was speeding
+up the magnificent Riverside Drive towards Mr. Overgold's
+home.  On the way Mr. Overgold pointed out various objects
+of interest,--Grant's tomb, Lincoln's tomb, Edgar Allan
+Poe's grave, the ticket office of the New York Subway,
+and various other points of historic importance.
+
+On arriving at the house, de Vere was ushered up a flight
+of broad marble steps to a hall fitted on every side with
+almost priceless objets d'art and others, ushered to the
+cloak-room and out of it, butlered into the lunch-room
+and footmanned to a chair.
+
+As they entered, a lady already seated at the table turned
+to meet them.
+
+One glance was enough--plenty.
+
+It was she--the object of de Vere's impassioned quest.
+A rich lunch-gown was girdled about her with a
+twelve-o'clock band of pearls.
+
+She reached out her hand, smiling.
+
+"Dorothea," said the multimillionaire, "this is Mr. de
+Vere. Mr. de Vere--my wife."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+Of this next chapter we need only say that the Blue Review
+(Adults Only) declares it to be the most daring and yet
+conscientious handling of the sex-problem ever attempted
+and done. The fact that the Congregational Times declares
+that this chapter will undermine the whole foundations
+of English Society and let it fall, we pass over: we hold
+certificates in writing from a great number of the Anglican
+clergy, to the effect that they have carefully read the
+entire novel and see nothing in it.
+
+. . . . . . .
+
+They stood looking at one another.
+
+"So you didn't know," she murmured.
+
+In a flash de Vere realised that she hadn't known that
+he didn't know and knew now that he knew.
+
+He found no words.
+
+The situation was a tense one. Nothing but the woman's
+innate tact could save it. Dorothea Overgold rose to it
+with the dignity of a queen.
+
+She turned to her husband.
+
+"Take your soup over to the window," she said, "and eat
+it there."
+
+The millionaire took his soup to the window and sat
+beneath a little palm tree, eating it.
+
+"You didn't know," she repeated.
+
+"No," said de Vere; "how could I?"
+
+"And yet," she went on, "you loved me, although you didn't
+know that I was married?"
+
+"Yes," answered de Vere simply. "I loved you, in spite
+of it."
+
+"How splendid!" she said.
+
+There was a moment's silence. Mr. Overgold had returned
+to the table, the empty plate in his hand. His wife turned
+to him again with the same unfailing tact.
+
+"Take your asparagus to the billiard-room," she said,
+"and eat it there."
+
+"Does he know, too?" asked de Vere.
+
+"Mr. Overgold?" she said carelessly. "I suppose he does.
+Eh apres, mon ami?"
+
+French? Another mystery! Where and how had she learned
+it? de Vere asked himself.  Not in France, certainly.
+
+"I fear that you are very young, amico mio," Dorothea
+went on carelessly. "After all, what is there wrong in
+it, piccolo pochito? To a man's mind perhaps--but to a
+woman, love is love."
+
+She beckoned to the butler.
+
+"Take Mr. Overgold a cutlet to the music-room," she
+said, "and give him his gorgonzola on the inkstand in
+the library."
+
+"And now," she went on, in that caressing way which seemed
+so natural to her, "don't let us think about it any more!
+After all, what is is, isn't it?"
+
+"I suppose it is," said de Vere, half convinced in spite
+of himself.
+
+"Or at any rate," said Dorothea, "nothing can at the same
+time both be and not be. But come," she broke off, gaily
+dipping a macaroon in a glass of creme de menthe and
+offering it to him with a pretty gesture of camaraderie,
+"don't let's be gloomy any more. I want to take you with
+me to the matinee."
+
+"Is he coming?" asked de Vere, pointing at Mr. Overgold's
+empty chair.
+
+"Silly boy," laughed Dorothea. "Of course John is coming.
+You surely don't want to buy the tickets yourself."
+
+. . . . . . .
+
+The days that followed brought a strange new life to de
+Vere.
+
+Dorothea was ever at his side. At the theatre, at the
+polo ground, in the park, everywhere they were together.
+And with them was Mr. Overgold.
+
+The three were always together. At times at the theatre
+Dorothea and de Vere would sit downstairs and Mr. Overgold
+in the gallery; at other times, de Vere and Mr. Overgold
+would sit in the gallery and Dorothea downstairs; at
+times one of them would sit in Row A, another in Row B,
+and a third in Row C; at other times two would sit in
+Row B and one in Row C; at the opera, at times, one of
+the three would sit listening, the others talking, at
+other times two listening and one talking, and at other
+times three talking and none listening.
+
+Thus the three formed together one of the most perplexing,
+maddening triangles that ever disturbed the society of
+the metropolis.
+
+. . . . . . .
+
+The denouement was bound to come.
+
+It came.
+
+It was late at night.
+
+De Vere was standing beside Dorothea in the brilliantly
+lighted hall of the Grand Palaver Hotel, where they had
+had supper. Mr. Overgold was busy for a moment at the
+cashier's desk.
+
+"Dorothea," de Vere whispered passionately, "I want to
+take you away, away from all this.  I want you."
+
+She turned and looked him full in the face.  Then she
+put her hand in his, smiling bravely.
+
+"I will come," she said.
+
+"Listen," he went on, "the Gloritania sails for England
+to-morrow at midnight. I have everything ready. Will you
+come?"
+
+"Yes," she answered, "I will"; and then passionately,
+"Dearest, I will follow you to England, to Liverpool, to
+the end of the earth."
+
+She paused in thought a moment and then added.
+
+"Come to the house just before midnight.  William, the
+second chauffeur (he is devoted to me), shall be at the
+door with the third car. The fourth footman will bring
+my things--I can rely on him; the fifth housemaid can
+have them all ready--she would never betray me. I will
+have the undergardener--the sixth--waiting at the iron
+gate to let you in; he would die rather than fail me."
+
+She paused again--then she went on.
+
+"There is only one thing, dearest, that I want to ask.
+It is not much. I hardly think you would refuse it at
+such an hour. May I bring my husband with me?"
+
+De Vere's face blanched.
+
+"Must you?" he said.
+
+"I think I must," said Dorothea. "You don't know how I've
+grown to value, to lean upon, him. At times I have felt
+as if I always wanted him to be near me; I like to feel
+wherever I am--at the play, at a restaurant, anywhere
+--that I can reach out and touch him.  I know," she
+continued, "that it's only a wild fancy and that others
+would laugh at it, but you can understand, can you
+not--carino caruso mio? And think, darling, in our new
+life, how busy he, too, will be--making money for all of
+us--in a new money market. It's just wonderful how he
+does it."
+
+A great light of renunciation lit up de Vere's face.
+
+"Bring him," he said.
+
+"I knew that you would say that," she murmured, "and
+listen, pochito pocket-edition, may I ask one thing more,
+one weeny thing? William, the second chauffeur--I think
+he would fade away if I were gone--may I bring him, too?
+Yes! O my darling, how can I repay you? And the second
+footman, and the third housemaid--if I were gone I fear
+that none of--"
+
+"Bring them all," said de Vere half bitterly; "we will
+all elope together."
+
+And as he spoke Mr. Overgold sauntered over from the
+cashier's desk, his open purse still in his hand, and
+joined them. There was a dreamy look upon his face.
+
+"I wonder," he murmured, "whether personality survives
+or whether it, too, when up against the irresistible,
+dissolves and resolves itself into a series of negative
+reactions?"
+
+De Vere's empty heart echoed the words.
+
+Then they passed out and the night swallowed them up.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+At a little before midnight on the next night, two motors
+filled with muffled human beings might have been perceived,
+or seen, moving noiselessly from Riverside Drive to the
+steamer wharf where lay the Gloritania.
+
+A night of intense darkness enveloped the Hudson. Outside
+the inside of the dockside a dense fog wrapped the Statue
+of Liberty. Beside the steamer customs officers and
+deportation officials moved silently to and fro in long
+black cloaks, carrying little deportation lanterns in
+their hands.
+
+To these Mr. Overgold presented in silence his deportation
+certificates, granting his party permission to leave the
+United States under the imbecility clause of the Interstate
+Commerce Act.
+
+No objection was raised.
+
+A few moments later the huge steamer was slipping away
+in the darkness.
+
+On its deck a little group of people, standing beside a
+pile of first-class cabin luggage, directed a last sad
+look through their heavy black disguise at the rapidly
+vanishing shore which they could not see.
+
+De Vere, who stood in the midst of them, clasping their
+hands, thus stood and gazed his last at America.
+
+"Spoof!" he said.
+
+(We admit that this final panorama, weird in its midnight
+mystery, and filling the mind of the reader with a sense
+of something like awe, is only appended to Spoof in order
+to coax him to read our forthcoming sequel, Spiff!)
+
+
+
+II.--The Reading Public. A Book Store Study
+
+"Wish to look about the store? Oh, oh, by all means,
+sir," he said.  Then as he rubbed his hands together in
+an urbane fashion he directed a piercing glance at me
+through his spectacles.
+
+"You'll find some things that might interest you," he
+said, "in the back of the store on the left. We have
+there a series of reprints--Universal Knowledge from
+Aristotle to Arthur Balfour--at seventeen cents. Or
+perhaps you might like to look over the Pantheon of Dead
+Authors at ten cents. Mr. Sparrow," he called, "just show
+this gentleman our classical reprints--the ten-cent
+series."
+
+With that he waved his hand to an assistant and dismissed
+me from his thought.
+
+In other words, he had divined me in a moment. There was
+no use in my having bought a sage-green fedora in Broadway,
+and a sporting tie done up crosswise with spots as big
+as nickels. These little adornments can never hide the
+soul within. I was a professor, and he knew it, or at
+least, as part of his business, he could divine it on
+the instant.
+
+The sales manager of the biggest book store for ten blocks
+cannot be deceived in a customer.  And he knew, of course,
+that, as a professor, I was no good. I had come to the
+store, as all professors go to book stores, just as a
+wasp comes to an open jar of marmalade. He knew that I
+would hang around for two hours, get in everybody's way,
+and finally buy a cheap reprint of the Dialogues of Plato,
+or the Prose Works of John Milton, or Locke on the Human
+Understanding, or some trash of that sort.
+
+As for real taste in literature--the ability to appreciate
+at its worth a dollar-fifty novel of last month, in a
+spring jacket with a tango frontispiece--I hadn't got it
+and he knew it.
+
+He despised me, of course. But it is a maxim of the book
+business that a professor standing up in a corner buried
+in a book looks well in a store. The real customers like
+it.
+
+So it was that even so up-to-date a manager as Mr. Sellyer
+tolerated my presence in a back corner of his store: and
+so it was that I had an opportunity of noting something
+of his methods with his real customers--methods so
+successful, I may say, that he is rightly looked upon by
+all the publishing business as one of the mainstays of
+literature in America.
+
+I had no intention of standing in the place and listening
+as a spy. In fact, to tell the truth, I had become
+immediately interested in a new translation of the Moral
+Discourses of Epictetus. The book was very neatly printed,
+quite well bound and was offered at eighteen cents; so
+that for the moment I was strongly tempted to buy it,
+though it seemed best to take a dip into it first.
+
+I had hardly read more than the first three chapters when
+my attention was diverted by a conversation going on in
+the front of the store.
+
+"You're quite sure it's his LATEST?" a fashionably dressed
+lady was saying to Mr. Sellyer.
+
+"Oh, yes, Mrs. Rasselyer," answered the manager. "I assure
+you this is his very latest.  In fact, they only came in
+yesterday."
+
+As he spoke, he indicated with his hand a huge pile of
+books, gayly jacketed in white and blue. I could make
+out the title in big gilt lettering--GOLDEN DREAMS.
+
+"Oh, yes," repeated Mr. Sellyer. "This is Mr. Slush's
+latest book. It's having a wonderful sale."
+
+"That's all right, then," said the lady. "You see, one
+sometimes gets taken in so: I came in here last week and
+took two that seemed very nice, and I never noticed till
+I got home that they were both old books, published, I
+think, six months ago."
+
+"Oh, dear me, Mrs. Rasselyer," said the manager in an
+apologetic tone, "I'm extremely sorry. Pray let us send
+for them and exchange them for you."
+
+"Oh, it does not matter," said the lady; "of course I
+didn't read them. I gave them to my maid. She probably
+wouldn't know the difference, anyway."
+
+"I suppose not," said Mr. Sellyer, with a condescending
+smile. "But of course, madam," he went on, falling into
+the easy chat of the fashionable bookman, "such mistakes
+are bound to happen sometimes. We had a very painful case
+only yesterday. One of our oldest customers came in in
+a great hurry to buy books to take on the steamer, and
+before we realised what he had done--selecting the books
+I suppose merely by the titles, as some gentlemen are
+apt to do--he had taken two of last year's books. We
+wired at once to the steamer, but I'm afraid it's too
+late."
+
+"But now, this book," said the lady, idly turning over
+the leaves, "is it good? What is it about?"
+
+"It's an extremely POWERFUL thing," said Mr. Sellyer,
+"in fact, MASTERLY. The critics are saying that it's
+perhaps THE most powerful book of the season. It has a--"
+and here Mr. Sellyer paused, and somehow his manner
+reminded me of my own when I am explaining to a university
+class something that I don't know myself--"It has
+a--a--POWER, so to speak--a very exceptional power; in
+fact, one may say without exaggeration it is the most
+POWERFUL book of the month. Indeed," he added, getting
+on to easier ground, "it's having a perfectly wonderful
+sale."
+
+"You seem to have a great many of them," said the lady.
+
+"Oh, we have to," answered the manager.  "There's a
+regular rush on the book. Indeed, you know it's a book
+that is bound to make a sensation. In fact, in certain
+quarters, they are saying that it's a book that ought
+not to--" And here Mr. Sellyer's voice became so low and
+ingratiating that I couldn't hear the rest of the sentence.
+
+"Oh, really!" said Mrs. Rasselyer. "Well, I think I'll
+take it then. One ought to see what these talked-of things
+are about, anyway."
+
+She had already begun to button her gloves, and to readjust
+her feather boa with which she had been knocking the
+Easter cards off the counter. Then she suddenly remembered
+something.
+
+"Oh, I was forgetting," she said. "Will you send something
+to the house for Mr. Rasselyer at the same time? He's
+going down to Virginia for the vacation. You know the
+kind of thing he likes, do you not?"
+
+"Oh, perfectly, madam," said the manager.  "Mr. Rasselyer
+generally reads works of--er--I think he buys mostly
+books on--er--"
+
+"Oh, travel and that sort of thing," said the lady.
+
+"Precisely. I think we have here," and he pointed to the
+counter on the left, "what Mr. Rasselyer wants."
+
+He indicated a row of handsome books--"Seven Weeks in
+the Sahara, seven dollars; Six Months in a Waggon,
+six-fifty net; Afternoons in an Oxcart, two volumes,
+four-thirty, with twenty off."
+
+"I think he has read those," said Mrs. Rasselyer.  "At
+least there are a good many at home that seem like that."
+
+"Oh, very possibly--but here, now, Among the Cannibals
+of Corfu--yes, that I think he has had--Among the--that,
+too, I think--but this I am certain he would like, just
+in this morning--Among the Monkeys of New Guinea--ten
+dollars, net."
+
+And with this Mr. Sellyer laid his hand on a pile of new
+books, apparently as numerous as the huge pile of Golden
+Dreams.
+
+"Among the Monkeys," he repeated, almost caressingly.
+
+"It seems rather expensive," said the lady.
+
+"Oh, very much so--a most expensive book," the manager
+repeated in a tone of enthusiasm.  "You see, Mrs. Rasselyer,
+it's the illustrations, actual photographs"--he ran the
+leaves over in his fingers--"of actual monkeys, taken
+with the camera--and the paper, you notice--in fact,
+madam, the book costs, the mere manufacture of it, nine
+dollars and ninety cents--of course we make no profit
+on it. But it's a book we like to handle."
+
+Everybody likes to be taken into the details of technical
+business; and of course everybody likes to know that a
+bookseller is losing money.  These, I realised, were two
+axioms in the methods of Mr. Sellyer.
+
+So very naturally Mrs. Rasselyer bought Among the Monkeys,
+and in another moment Mr. Sellyer was directing a clerk
+to write down an address on Fifth Avenue, and was bowing
+deeply as he showed the lady out of the door.
+
+As he turned back to his counter his manner seemed much
+changed.
+
+"That Monkey book," I heard him murmur to his assistant,
+"is going to be a pretty stiff proposition."
+
+But he had no time for further speculation.
+
+Another lady entered.
+
+This time even to an eye less trained than Mr. Sellyer's,
+the deep, expensive mourning and the pensive face proclaimed
+the sentimental widow.
+
+"Something new in fiction," repeated the manager, "yes,
+madam--here's a charming thing--Golden Dreams"--he hung
+lovingly on the words--"a very sweet story, singularly
+sweet; in fact, madam, the critics are saying it is the
+sweetest thing that Mr. Slush has done."
+
+"Is it good?" said the lady. I began to realise that all
+customers asked this.
+
+"A charming book," said the manager. "It's a love
+story--very simple and sweet, yet wonderfully charming.
+Indeed, the reviews say it's the most charming book of
+the month. My wife was reading it aloud only last night.
+She could hardly read for tears."
+
+"I suppose it's quite a safe book, is it?" asked the
+widow. "I want it for my little daughter."
+
+"Oh, quite safe," said Mr. Sellyer, with an almost parental
+tone, "in fact, written quite in the old style, like the
+dear old books of the past--quite like"--here Mr. Sellyer
+paused with a certain slight haze of doubt visible in
+his eye--"like Dickens and Fielding and Sterne and so
+on. We sell a great many to the clergy, madam."
+
+The lady bought Golden Dreams, received it wrapped up in
+green enamelled paper, and passed out.
+
+"Have you any good light reading for vacation time?"
+called out the next customer in a loud, breezy voice--he
+had the air of a stock broker starting on a holiday.
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Sellyer, and his face almost broke into
+a laugh as he answered, "here's an excellent thing--Golden
+Dreams--quite the most humorous book of the season--simply
+screaming--my wife was reading it aloud only yesterday.
+She could hardly read for laughing."
+
+"What's the price, one dollar? One-fifty.  All right,
+wrap it up." There was a clink of money on the counter,
+and the customer was gone. I began to see exactly where
+professors and college people who want copies of Epictetus
+at 18 cents and sections of World Reprints of Literature
+at 12 cents a section come in, in the book trade.
+
+"Yes, Judge!" said the manager to the next customer, a
+huge, dignified personage in a wide-awake hat, "sea
+stories? Certainly. Excellent reading, no doubt, when
+the brain is overcharged as yours must be. Here is the
+very latest--Among the Monkeys of New Guinea, ten dollars,
+reduced to four-fifty. The manufacture alone costs
+six-eighty. We're selling it out. Thank you, Judge. Send
+it? Yes. Good morning."
+
+After that the customers came and went in a string. I
+noticed that though the store was filled with books--ten
+thousand of them, at a guess--Mr. Sellyer was apparently
+only selling two. Every woman who entered went away with
+Golden Dreams: every man was given a copy of the Monkeys
+of New Guinea. To one lady Golden Dreams was sold as
+exactly the reading for a holiday, to another as the very
+book to read AFTER a holiday; another bought it as a book
+for a rainy day, and a fourth as the right sort of reading
+for a fine day. The Monkeys was sold as a sea story, a
+land story, a story of the jungle, and a story of the
+mountains, and it was put at a price corresponding to
+Mr. Sellyer's estimate of the purchaser.
+
+At last after a busy two hours, the store grew empty for
+a moment.
+
+"Wilfred," said Mr. Sellyer, turning to his chief assistant,
+"I am going out to lunch. Keep those two books running
+as hard as you can.  We'll try them for another day and
+then cut them right out. And I'll drop round to Dockem
+& Discount, the publishers, and make a kick about them,
+and see what they'll do."
+
+I felt that I had lingered long enough. I drew near with
+the Epictetus in my hand.
+
+"Yes, sir," said Mr. Sellyer, professional again in a
+moment. "Epictetus? A charming thing. Eighteen cents.
+Thank you. Perhaps we have some other things there that
+might interest you. We have a few second-hand things in
+the alcove there that you might care to look at. There's
+an Aristotle, two volumes--a very fine thing--practically
+illegible, that you might like: and a Cicero came in
+yesterday--very choice--damaged by damp--and I think we
+have a Machiavelli, quite exceptional--practically torn
+to pieces, and the covers gone--a very rare old thing,
+sir, if you're an expert."
+
+"No, thanks," I said. And then from a curiosity that had
+been growing in me and that I couldn't resist, "That
+book--Golden Dreams," I said, "you seem to think it a
+very wonderful work?"
+
+Mr. Sellyer directed one of his shrewd glances at me. He
+knew I didn't want to buy the book, and perhaps, like
+lesser people, he had his off moments of confidence.
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"A bad business," he said. "The publishers have unloaded
+the thing on us, and we have to do what we can. They're
+stuck with it, I understand, and they look to us to help
+them.  They're advertising it largely and may pull it
+off. Of course, there's just a chance. One can't tell.
+It's just possible we may get the church people down on
+it and if so we're all right. But short of that we'll
+never make it.  I imagine it's perfectly rotten."
+
+"Haven't you read it?" I asked.
+
+"Dear me, no!" said the manager. His air was that of a
+milkman who is offered a glass of his own milk. "A pretty
+time I'd have if I tried to READ the new books. It's
+quite enough to keep track of them without that."
+
+"But those people," I went on, deeply perplexed, "who
+bought the book. Won't they be disappointed?"
+
+Mr. Sellyer shook his head. "Oh, no," he said; "you see,
+they won't READ it. They never do."
+
+"But at any rate," I insisted, "your wife thought it a
+fine story."
+
+Mr. Sellyer smiled widely.
+
+"I am not married, sir," he said.
+
+
+
+AFTERNOON ADVENTURES AT MY CLUB
+
+
+1.--The Anecdotes of Dr. So and So
+
+That is not really his name. I merely call him that from
+his manner of talking.
+
+His specialty is telling me short anecdotes of his
+professional life from day to day.
+
+They are told with wonderful dash and power, except for
+one slight omission, which is, that you never know what
+the doctor is talking about. Beyond this, his little
+stories are of unsurpassed interest--but let me illustrate.
+
+. . . . . . .
+
+He came into the semi-silence room of the club the other
+day and sat down beside me.
+
+"Have something or other?" he said.
+
+"No, thanks," I answered.
+
+"Smoke anything?" he asked.
+
+"No, thanks."
+
+The doctor turned to me. He evidently wanted to talk.
+
+"I've been having a rather peculiar experience," he said.
+"Man came to me the other day--three or four weeks ago--and
+said, 'Doctor, I feel out of sorts. I believe I've got
+so and so.' 'Ah,' I said, taking a look at him, 'been
+eating so and so, eh?' 'Yes,' he said.  'Very good,' I
+said, 'take so and so.'
+
+"Well, off the fellow went--I thought nothing of it--simply
+wrote such and such in my note-book, such and such a
+date, symptoms such and such--prescribed such and such,
+and so forth, you understand?"
+
+"Oh, yes, perfectly, doctor," I answered.
+
+"Very good. Three days later--a ring at the bell in the
+evening--my servant came to the surgery. 'Mr. So and So
+is here. Very anxious to see you.' 'All right!' I went
+down.  There he was, with every symptom of so and so
+written all over him--every symptom of it--this and this
+and this--"
+
+"Awful symptoms, doctor," I said, shaking my head.
+
+"Are they not?" he said, quite unaware that he hadn't
+named any. "There he was with every symptom, heart so
+and so, eyes so and so, pulse this--I looked at him right
+in the eye and I said--'Do you want me to tell you the
+truth?' 'Yes,' he said. 'Very good,' I answered, 'I will.
+You've got so and so.' He fell back as if shot. 'So and
+so!' he repeated, dazed. I went to the sideboard and
+poured him out a drink of such and such. 'Drink this,'
+I said. He drank it. 'Now,' I said, 'listen to what I
+say: You've got so and so. There's only one chance,' I
+said, 'you must limit your eating and drinking to such
+and such, you must sleep such and such, avoid every form
+of such and such--I'll give you a cordial, so many drops
+every so long, but mind you, unless you do so and so, it
+won't help you.' 'All right, very good.' Fellow promised.
+Off he went."
+
+The doctor paused a minute and then resumed:
+
+"Would you believe it--two nights later, I saw the
+fellow--after the theatre, in a restaurant--whole party
+of people--big plate of so and so in front of him--quart
+bottle of so and so on ice--such and such and so forth.
+I stepped over to him--tapped him on the shoulder:  'See
+here,' I said, 'if you won't obey my instructions, you
+can't expect me to treat you.' I walked out of the place."
+
+"And what happened to him?" I asked.
+
+"Died," said the doctor, in a satisfied tone.  "Died.
+I've just been filling in the certificate:  So and so,
+aged such and such, died of so and so!"
+
+"An awful disease," I murmured.
+
+
+
+2.--The Shattered Health of Mr. Podge
+
+"How are you, Podge?" I said, as I sat down in a leather
+armchair beside him.
+
+I only meant "How-do-you-do?" but he rolled his big eyes
+sideways at me in his flabby face (it was easier than
+moving his face) and he answered:
+
+"I'm not as well to-day as I was yesterday afternoon.
+Last week I was feeling pretty good part of the time,
+but yesterday about four o'clock the air turned humid,
+and I don't feel so well."
+
+"Have a cigarette?" I said.
+
+"No, thanks; I find they affect the bronchial toobes."
+
+"Whose?" I asked.
+
+"Mine," he answered.
+
+"Oh, yes," I said, and I lighted one. "So you find the
+weather trying," I continued cheerfully.
+
+"Yes, it's too humid. It's up to a saturation of sixty-six.
+I'm all right till it passes sixty-four. Yesterday
+afternoon it was only about sixty-one, and I felt fine.
+But after that it went up. I guess it must be a contraction
+of the epidermis pressing on some of the sebaceous glands,
+don't you?"
+
+"I'm sure it is," I said. "But why don't you just sleep
+it off till it's over?"
+
+"I don't like to sleep too much," he answered.  "I'm
+afraid of it developing into hypersomnia. There are cases
+where it's been known to grow into a sort of lethargy
+that pretty well stops all brain action altogether--"
+
+"That would be too bad," I murmured.  "What do you do to
+prevent it?"
+
+"I generally drink from half to three-quarters of a cup
+of black coffee, or nearly black, every morning at from
+eleven to five minutes past, so as to keep off hypersomnia.
+It's the best thing, the doctor says."
+
+"Aren't you afraid," I said, "of its keeping you awake?"
+
+"I am," answered Podge, and a spasm passed over his big
+yellow face. "I'm always afraid of insomnia. That's the
+worst thing of all. The other night I went to bed about
+half-past ten, or twenty-five minutes after,--I forget
+which,--and I simply couldn't sleep. I couldn't. I read
+a magazine story, and I still couldn't; and I read another,
+and still I couldn't sleep. It scared me bad."
+
+"Oh, pshaw," I said; "I don't think sleep matters as long
+as one eats properly and has a good appetite."
+
+He shook his head very dubiously. "I ate a plate of soup
+at lunch," he said, "and I feel it still."
+
+"You FEEL it!"
+
+"Yes," repeated Podge, rolling his eyes sideways in a
+pathetic fashion that he had, "I still feel it. I oughtn't
+to have eaten it. It was some sort of a bean soup, and
+of course it was full of nitrogen. I oughtn't to touch
+nitrogen," he added, shaking his head.
+
+"Not take any nitrogen?" I repeated.
+
+"No, the doctor--both doctors--have told me that. I can
+eat starches, and albumens, all right, but I have to keep
+right away from all carbons and nitrogens. I've been
+dieting that way for two years, except that now and again
+I take a little glucose or phosphates."
+
+"That must be a nice change," I said, cheerfully.
+
+"It is," he answered in a grateful sort of tone.
+
+There was a pause. I looked at his big twitching face,
+and listened to the heavy wheezing of his breath, and I
+felt sorry for him.
+
+"See here, Podge," I said, "I want to give you some good
+advice."
+
+"About what?"
+
+"About your health."
+
+"Yes, yes, do," he said. Advice about his health was
+right in his line. He lived on it.
+
+"Well, then, cut out all this fool business of diet and
+drugs and nitrogen. Don't bother about anything of the
+sort. Forget it. Eat everything you want to, just when
+you want it. Drink all you like. Smoke all you can--and
+you'll feel a new man in a week."
+
+"Say, do you think so!" he panted, his eyes filled with
+a new light.
+
+"I know it," I answered. And as I left him I shook hands
+with a warm feeling about my heart of being a benefactor
+to the human race.
+
+Next day, sure enough, Podge's usual chair at the club
+was empty.
+
+"Out getting some decent exercise," I thought. "Thank
+Heaven!"
+
+Nor did he come the next day, nor the next, nor for a
+week.
+
+"Leading a rational life at last," I thought.  "Out in
+the open getting a little air and sunlight, instead of
+sitting here howling about his stomach."
+
+The day after that I saw Dr. Slyder in black clothes
+glide into the club in that peculiar manner of his, like
+an amateur undertaker.
+
+"Hullo, Slyder," I called to him, "you look as solemn as
+if you had been to a funeral."
+
+"I have," he said very quietly, and then added, "poor
+Podge!"
+
+"What about him?" I asked with sudden apprehension.
+
+"Why, he died on Tuesday," answered the doctor. "Hadn't
+you heard? Strangest case I've known in years. Came home
+suddenly one day, pitched all his medicines down the
+kitchen sink, ordered a couple of cases of champagne and
+two hundred havanas, and had his housekeeper cook a dinner
+like a Roman banquet! After being under treatment for
+two years! Lived, you know, on the narrowest margin
+conceivable. I told him and Silk told him--we all told
+him--his only chance was to keep away from every form of
+nitrogenous ultra-stimulants. I said to him often, 'Podge,
+if you touch heavy carbonized food, you're lost.'"
+
+"Dear me," I thought to myself, "there ARE such things
+after all!"
+
+"It was a marvel," continued Slyder, "that we kept him
+alive at all. And, of course"--here the doctor paused
+to ring the bell to order two Manhattan cocktails--"as
+soon as he touched alcohol he was done."
+
+So that was the end of the valetudinarianism of Mr. Podge.
+
+I have always considered that I killed him.
+
+But anyway, he was a nuisance at the club.
+
+
+
+3.--The Amazing Travels of Mr. Yarner
+
+There was no fault to be found with Mr. Yarner till he
+made his trip around the world.
+
+It was that, I think, which disturbed his brain and
+unfitted him for membership in the club.
+
+"Well," he would say, as he sat ponderously down with
+the air of a man opening an interesting conversation, "I
+was just figuring it out that eleven months ago to-day
+I was in Pekin."
+
+"That's odd," I said, "I was just reckoning that eleven
+days ago I was in Poughkeepsie."
+
+"They don't call it Pekin over there," he said. "It's
+sounded Pei-Chang."
+
+"I know," I said, "it's the same way with Poughkeepsie,
+they pronounce it P'Keepsie."
+
+"The Chinese," he went on musingly, "are a strange people."
+
+"So are the people in P'Keepsie," I added, "awfully
+strange."
+
+That kind of retort would sometimes stop him, but not
+always. He was especially dangerous if he was found with
+a newspaper in his hand; because that meant that some
+item of foreign intelligence had gone to his brain.
+
+Not that I should have objected to Yarner describing his
+travels. Any man who has bought a ticket round the world
+and paid for it, is entitled to that.
+
+But it was his manner of discussion that I considered
+unpermissible.
+
+Last week, for example, in an unguarded moment I fell a
+victim. I had been guilty of the imprudence--I forget in
+what connection--of speaking of lions. I realized at
+once that I had done wrong--lions, giraffes, elephants,
+rickshaws and natives of all brands, are topics to avoid
+in talking with a traveller.
+
+"Speaking of lions," began Yarner.
+
+He was right, of course; I HAD spoken of lions.
+
+"--I shall never forget," he went on (of course, I knew
+he never would), "a rather bad scrape I got into in the
+up-country of Uganda.  Imagine yourself in a wild, rolling
+country covered here and there with kwas along the sides
+of the nullahs."
+
+I did so.
+
+"Well," continued Yarner, "we were sitting in our tent
+one hot night--too hot to sleep--when all at once we
+heard, not ten feet in front of us, the most terrific
+roar that ever came from the throat of a lion."
+
+As he said this Yarner paused to take a gulp of bubbling
+whiskey and soda and looked at me so ferociously that I
+actually shivered.
+
+Then quite suddenly his manner cooled down in the strangest
+way, and his voice changed to a commonplace tone as he
+said,--
+
+"Perhaps I ought to explain that we hadn't come up to
+the up-country looking for big game.  In fact, we had
+been down in the down country with no idea of going higher
+than Mombasa.  Indeed, our going even to Mombasa itself
+was more or less an afterthought. Our first plan was to
+strike across from Aden to Singapore.  But our second
+plan was to strike direct from Colombo to Karuchi--"
+
+"And what was your THIRD plan?" I asked.
+
+"Our third plan," said Yarner deliberately, feeling that
+the talk was now getting really interesting, "let me see,
+our third plan was to cut across from Socotra to
+Tananarivo."
+
+"Oh, yes," I said.
+
+"However, all that was changed, and changed under the
+strangest circumstances.  We were sitting, Gallon and I,
+on the piazza of the Galle Face Hotel in Colombo--you
+know the Galle Face?"
+
+"No, I do not," I said very positively.
+
+"Very good. Well, I was sitting on the piazza watching
+a snake charmer who was seated, with a boa, immediately
+in front of me.
+
+"Poor Gallon was actually within two feet of the hideous
+reptile. All of a sudden the beast whirled itself into
+a coil, its eyes fastened with hideous malignity on poor
+Gallon, and with its head erect it emitted the most awful
+hiss I have heard proceed from the mouth of any living
+snake."
+
+Here Yarner paused and took a long, hissing drink of
+whiskey and soda: and then as the malignity died out of
+his face--
+
+"I should explain," he went on, very quietly, "that Gallon
+was not one of our original party.  We had come down to
+Colombo from Mongolia, going by the Pekin Hankow and the
+Nippon Yushen Keisha."
+
+"That, I suppose, is the best way?" I said.
+
+"Yes. And oddly enough but for the accident of Gallon
+joining us, we should have gone by the Amoy, Cochin,
+Singapore route, which was our first plan. In fact, but
+for Gallon we should hardly have got through China at
+all.  The Boxer insurrection had taken place only fourteen
+years before our visit, so you can imagine the awful
+state of the country.
+
+"Our meeting with Gallon was thus absolutely providential.
+Looking back on it, I think it perhaps saved our lives.
+We were in Mongolia (this, you understand, was before we
+reached China), and had spent the night at a small Yak
+about four versts from Kharbin, when all of a sudden,
+just outside the miserable hut that we were in, we heard
+a perfect fusillade of shots followed immediately afterwards
+by one of the most blood-curdling and terrifying screams
+I have ever imagined--"
+
+"Oh, yes," I said, "and that was how you met Gallon.
+Well, I must be off."
+
+And as I happened at that very moment to be rescued by
+an incoming friend, who took but little interest in lions,
+and even less in Yarner, I have still to learn why the
+lion howled so when it met Yarner. But surely the lion
+had reason enough.
+
+
+4.--The Spiritual Outlook of Mr. Doomer
+
+One generally saw old Mr. Doomer looking gloomily out of
+the windows of the library of the club. If not there, he
+was to be found staring sadly into the embers of a dying
+fire in a deserted sitting-room.
+
+His gloom always appeared out of place as he was one of
+the richest of the members.
+
+But the cause of it,--as I came to know,--was that he
+was perpetually concerned with thinking about the next
+world. In fact he spent his whole time brooding over it.
+
+I discovered this accidentally by happening to speak to
+him of the recent death of Podge, one of our fellow
+members.
+
+"Very sad," I said, "Podge's death."
+
+"Ah," returned Mr. Doomer, "very shocking.  He was quite
+unprepared to die."
+
+"Do you think so?" I said, "I'm awfully sorry to hear
+it."
+
+"Quite unprepared," he answered. "I had reason to know
+it as one of his executors,--everything is
+confusion,--nothing signed,--no proper power of
+attorney,--codicils drawn up in blank and never
+witnessed,--in short, sir, no sense apparently of the
+nearness of his death and of his duty to be prepared.
+
+"I suppose," I said, "poor Podge didn't realise that he
+was going to die."
+
+"Ah, that's just it," resumed Mr. Doomer with something
+like sternness, "a man OUGHT to realise it. Every man
+ought to feel that at any moment,--one can't tell when,--day
+or night,--he may be called upon to meet his,"--Mr.
+Doomer paused here as if seeking a phrase--"to meet his
+Financial Obligations, face to face. At any time, sir,
+he may be hurried before the Judge,--or rather his estate
+may be,--before the Judge of the probate court. It is
+a solemn thought, sir. And yet when I come here I see
+about me men laughing, talking, and playing billiards,
+as if there would never be a day when their estate would
+pass into the hands of their administrators and an account
+must be given of every cent."
+
+"But after all," I said, trying to fall in with his mood,
+"death and dissolution must come to all of us."
+
+"That's just it," he said solemnly. "They've dissolved
+the tobacco people, and they've dissolved the oil people
+and you can't tell whose turn it may be next."
+
+Mr. Doomer was silent a moment and then resumed, speaking
+in a tone of humility that was almost reverential.
+
+"And yet there is a certain preparedness for death, a
+certain fitness to die that we ought all to aim at. Any
+man can at least think solemnly of the Inheritance Tax,
+and reflect whether by a contract inter vivos drawn in
+blank he may not obtain redemption; any man if he thinks
+death is near may at least divest himself of his purely
+speculative securities and trust himself entirely to
+those gold bearing bonds of the great industrial
+corporations whose value will not readily diminish or
+pass away." Mr. Doomer was speaking with something like
+religious rapture.
+
+"And yet what does one see?" he continued.  "Men affected
+with fatal illness and men stricken in years occupied
+still with idle talk and amusements instead of reading
+the financial newspapers,--and at the last carried away
+with scarcely time perhaps to send for their brokers when
+it is already too late."
+
+"It is very sad," I said.
+
+"Very," he repeated, "and saddest of all, perhaps, is
+the sense of the irrevocability of death and the changes
+that must come after it."
+
+We were silent a moment.
+
+"You think of these things a great deal, Mr. Doomer?"
+I said.
+
+"I do," he answered. "It may be that it is something in
+my temperament, I suppose one would call it a sort of
+spiritual mindedness.  But I think of it all constantly.
+Often as I stand here beside the window and see these
+cars go by"--he indicated a passing street car--"I cannot
+but realise that the time will come when I am no longer
+a managing director and wonder whether they will keep on
+trying to hold the dividend down by improving the rolling
+stock or will declare profits to inflate the securities.
+These mysteries beyond the grave fascinate me, sir. Death
+is a mysterious thing.  Who for example will take my seat
+on the Exchange? What will happen to my majority control
+of the power company? I shudder to think of the changes
+that may happen after death in the assessment of my real
+estate."
+
+"Yes," I said, "it is all beyond our control, isn't it?"
+
+"Quite," answered Mr. Doomer; "especially of late years
+one feels that, all said and done, we are in the hands
+of a Higher Power, and that the State Legislature is
+after all supreme.  It gives one a sense of smallness.
+It makes one feel that in these days of drastic legislation
+with all one's efforts the individual is lost and absorbed
+in the controlling power of the state legislature. Consider
+the words that are used in the text of the Income Tax
+Case, Folio Two, or the text of the Trans-Missouri Freight
+Decision, and think of the revelation they contain."
+
+I left Mr. Doomer still standing beside the window, musing
+on the vanity of life and on things, such as the future
+control of freight rates, that lay beyond the grave.
+
+I noticed as I left him how broken and aged he had come
+to look. It seemed as if the chafings of the spirit were
+wearing the body that harboured it.
+
+It was about a month later that I learned of Mr. Doomer's
+death.
+
+Dr. Slyder told me of it in the club one afternoon, over
+two cocktails in the sitting-room.
+
+"A beautiful bedside," he said, "one of the most edifying
+that I have ever attended. I knew that Doomer was failing
+and of course the time came when I had to tell him.
+
+"'Mr. Doomer,' I said, 'all that I, all that any medical
+can do for you is done; you are going to die. I have to
+warn you that it is time for other ministrations than
+mine.'
+
+"'Very good,' he said faintly but firmly, 'send for my
+broker.'
+
+"They sent out and fetched Jarvis,--you know him I
+think,--most sympathetic man and yet most business-like--he
+does all the firm's business with the dying,--and we two
+sat beside Doomer holding him up while he signed stock
+transfers and blank certificates.
+
+"Once he paused and turned his eyes on Jarvis.  'Read me
+from the text of the State Inheritance Tax Statute,' he
+said. Jarvis took the book and read aloud very quietly
+and simply the part at the beginning--'Whenever and
+wheresoever it shall appear,' down to the words, 'shall
+be no longer a subject of judgment or appeal but shall
+remain in perpetual possession.'
+
+"Doomer listened with his eyes closed. The reading seemed
+to bring him great comfort.  When Jarvis ended he said
+with a sign, 'That covers it. I'll put my faith in that.'
+After that he was silent a moment and then said: 'I wish
+I had already crossed the river. Oh, to have already
+crossed the river and be safe on the other side.' We knew
+what he meant. He had always planned to move over to New
+Jersey.  The inheritance tax is so much more liberal.
+
+"Presently it was all done.
+
+"'There,' I said, 'it is finished now.'
+
+"'No,' he answered, 'there is still one thing.  Doctor,
+you've been very good to me. I should like to pay your
+account now without it being a charge on the estate. I
+will pay it as'--he paused for a moment and a fit of
+coughing seized him, but by an effort of will he found
+the power to say--'cash.'
+
+"I took the account from my pocket (I had it with me,
+fearing the worst), and we laid his cheque-book before
+him on the bed. Jarvis thinking him too faint to write
+tried to guide his hand as he filled in the sum. But he
+shook his head.
+
+"'The room is getting dim,' he said. 'I can see nothing
+but the figures.'
+
+"'Never mind,' said Jarvis,--much moved, 'that's enough.'
+
+"'Is it four hundred and thirty?' he asked faintly.
+
+"'Yes,' I said, and I could feel the tears rising in my
+eyes, 'and fifty cents.'
+
+"After signing the cheque his mind wandered for a moment
+and he fell to talking, with his eyes closed, of the new
+federal banking law, and of the prospect of the reserve
+associations being able to maintain an adequate gold
+supply.
+
+"Just at the last he rallied.
+
+"'I want,' he said in quite a firm voice, 'to do something
+for both of you before I die.'
+
+"'Yes, yes,' we said.
+
+"'You are both interested, are you not,' he murmured,
+'in City Traction?'
+
+"'Yes, yes,' we said. We knew of course that he was the
+managing director.
+
+"He looked at us faintly and tried to speak.
+
+"'Give him a cordial,' said Jarvis. But he found his
+voice.
+
+"'The value of that stock,' he said, 'is going to take
+a sudden--'
+
+"His voice grew faint.
+
+"'Yes, yes,' I whispered, bending over him (there were
+tears in both our eyes), 'tell me is it going up, or
+going down?'
+
+"'It is going'--he murmured,--then his eyes closed--'it
+is going--'
+
+"'Yes, yes,' I said, 'which?'
+
+"'It is going'--he repeated feebly and then, quite suddenly
+he fell back on the pillows and his soul passed. And we
+never knew which way it was going. It was very sad. Later
+on, of course, after he was dead, we knew, as everybody
+knew, that it went down."
+
+
+
+5.--The Reminiscences of Mr. Apricot
+
+"Rather a cold day, isn't it?" I said as I entered the
+club.
+
+The man I addressed popped his head out from behind a
+newspaper and I saw it was old Mr. Apricot. So I was
+sorry that I had spoken.
+
+"Not so cold as the winter of 1866," he said, beaming
+with benevolence.
+
+He had an egg-shaped head, bald, with some white hair
+fluffed about the sides of it. He had a pink face with
+large blue eyes, behind his spectacles, benevolent to
+the verge of imbecility.
+
+"Was that a cold winter?" I asked.
+
+"Bitter cold," he said. "I have never told you, have I,
+of my early experiences in life?"
+
+"I think I have heard you mention them," I murmured, but
+he had already placed a detaining hand on my sleeve. "Sit
+down," he said.  Then he continued: "Yes, it was a cold
+winter.  I was going to say that it was the coldest I
+have ever experienced, but that might be an exaggeration.
+But it was certainly colder than any winter that YOU have
+ever seen, or that we ever have now, or are likely to
+have. In fact the winters NOW are a mere nothing,"--here
+Mr. Apricot looked toward the club window where the driven
+snow was beating in eddies against the panes,--"simply
+nothing. One doesn't feel them at all,"--here he turned
+his eyes towards the glowing fire that flamed in the open
+fireplace. "But when I was a boy things were very different.
+I have probably never mentioned to you, have I, the
+circumstances of my early life?"
+
+He had, many times. But he had turned upon me the full
+beam of his benevolent spectacles and I was too weak to
+interrupt.
+
+"My father," went on Mr. Apricot, settling back in his
+chair and speaking with a far-away look in his eyes, "had
+settled on the banks of the Wabash River--"
+
+"Oh, yes, I know it well," I interjected.
+
+"Not as it was THEN," said Mr. Apricot very quickly. "At
+present as you, or any other thoughtless tourist sees
+it, it appears a broad river pouring its vast flood in
+all directions.  At the time I speak of it was a mere
+stream scarcely more than a few feet in circumference.
+The life we led there was one of rugged isolation and of
+sturdy self-reliance and effort such as it is, of course,
+quite impossible for YOU, or any other member of this
+club to understand,--I may give you some idea of what
+I mean when I say that at that time there was no town
+nearer to Pittsburgh than Chicago, or to St. Paul than
+Minneapolis--"
+
+"Impossible!" I said.
+
+Mr. Apricot seemed not to notice the interruption.
+
+"There was no place nearer to Springfield than St. Louis,"
+he went on in a peculiar singsong voice, "and there was
+nothing nearer to Denver than San Francisco, nor to New
+Orleans than Rio Janeiro--"
+
+He seemed as if he would go on indefinitely.
+
+"You were speaking of your father?" I interrupted.
+
+"My father," said Mr. Apricot, "had settled on the banks,
+both banks, of the Wabash.  He was like so many other
+men of his time, a disbanded soldier, a veteran--"
+
+"Of the Mexican War or of the Civil War?" I asked.
+
+"Exactly," answered Mr. Apricot, hardly heeding the
+question,--"of the Mexican Civil War."
+
+"Was he under Lincoln?" I asked.
+
+"OVER Lincoln," corrected Mr. Apricot gravely. And he
+added,--"It is always strange to me the way in which the
+present generation regards Abraham Lincoln. To us, of
+course, at the time of which I speak, Lincoln was simply
+one of ourselves."
+
+"In 1866?" I asked.
+
+"This was 1856," said Mr. Apricot. "He came often to my
+father's cabin, sitting down with us to our humble meal
+of potatoes and whiskey (we lived with a simplicity which
+of course you could not possibly understand), and would
+spend the evening talking with my father over the
+interpretation of the Constitution of the United States.
+We children used to stand beside them listening open-mouthed
+beside the fire in our plain leather night-gowns. I shall
+never forget how I was thrilled when I first heard Lincoln
+lay down his famous theory of the territorial jurisdiction
+of Congress as affected by the Supreme Court decision of
+1857.  I was only nine years old at the time, but it
+thrilled me!"
+
+"Is it possible!" I exclaimed, "how ever could you
+understand it?"
+
+"Ah! my friend," said Mr. Apricot, almost sadly, "in
+THOSE days the youth of the United States were EDUCATED
+in the real sense of the word. We children followed the
+decisions of the Supreme Court with breathless interest.
+Our books were few but they were GOOD. We had nothing to
+read but the law reports, the agriculture reports, the
+weather bulletins and the almanacs. But we read them
+carefully from cover to cover. How few boys have the
+industry to do so now, and yet how many of our greatest
+men were educated on practically nothing else except the
+law reports and the almanacs.  Franklin, Jefferson,
+Jackson, Johnson,"--Mr. Apricot had relapsed into his
+sing-song voice, and his eye had a sort of misty perplexity
+in it as he went on,--"Harrison, Thomson, Peterson,
+Emerson--"
+
+I thought it better to stop him.
+
+"But you were speaking," I said, "of the winter of eighteen
+fifty-six."
+
+"Of eighteen forty-six," corrected Mr. Apricot.  "I shall
+never forget it. How distinctly I remember,--I was only
+a boy then, in fact a mere lad,--fighting my way to
+school. The snow lay in some places as deep as ten feet"--
+Mr. Apricot paused--"and in others twenty.  But we made
+our way to school in spite of it.  No boys of to-day,--nor,
+for the matter of that, even men such as you,--would
+think of attempting it. But we were keen, anxious to
+learn. Our school was our delight. Our teacher was our
+friend. Our books were our companions. We gladly trudged
+five miles to school every morning and seven miles back
+at night, did chores till midnight, studied algebra by
+candlelight"--here Mr. Apricot's voice had fallen into
+its characteristic sing-song, and his eyes were
+vacant--"rose before daylight, dressed by lamplight, fed
+the hogs by lantern-light, fetched the cows by twilight--"
+
+I thought it best to stop him.
+
+"But you did eventually get off the farm, did you not?"
+I asked.
+
+"Yes," he answered, "my opportunity presently came to me
+as it came in those days to any boy of industry and
+intelligence who knocked at the door of fortune till it
+opened.  I shall never forget how my first chance in life
+came to me. A man, an entire stranger, struck no doubt
+with the fact that I looked industrious and willing,
+offered me a dollar to drive a load of tan bark to the
+nearest market--"
+
+"Where was that?" I asked.
+
+"Minneapolis, seven hundred miles. But I did it. I shall
+never forget my feelings when I found myself in Minneapolis
+with one dollar in my pocket and with the world all before
+me."
+
+"What did you do?" I said.
+
+"First," said Mr. Apricot, "I laid out seventy-five cents
+for a suit of clothes (things were cheap in those days);
+for fifty cents I bought an overcoat, for twenty-five I
+got a hat, for ten cents a pair of boots, and with the
+rest of my money I took a room for a month with a Swedish
+family, paid a month's board with a German family, arranged
+to have my washing done by an Irish family, and--"
+
+"But surely, Mr. Apricot--" I began.
+
+But at this point the young man who is generally in
+attendance on old Mr. Apricot when he comes to the club,
+appeared on the scene.
+
+"I am afraid," he said to me aside as Mr. Apricot was
+gathering up his newspapers and his belongings, "that my
+uncle has been rather boring you with his reminiscences."
+
+"Not at all," I said, "he's been telling me all about
+his early life in his father's cabin on the Wabash--"
+
+"I was afraid so," said the young man. "Too bad. You see
+he wasn't really there at all."
+
+"Not there!" I said.
+
+"No. He only fancies that he was. He was brought up in
+New York, and has never been west of Philadelphia. In
+fact he has been very well to do all his life. But he
+found that it counted against him: it hurt him in politics.
+So he got into the way of talking about the Middle West
+and early days there, and sometimes he forgets that he
+wasn't there."
+
+"I see," I said.
+
+Meantime Mr. Apricot was ready.
+
+"Good-bye, good-bye," he said very cheerily,--"A delightful
+chat. We must have another talk over old times soon. I
+must tell you about my first trip over the Plains at the
+time when I was surveying the line of the Union Pacific.
+You who travel nowadays in your Pullman coaches and
+observation cars can have no idea--"
+
+"Come along, uncle," said the young man.
+
+
+
+6.--The Last Man out of Europe
+
+He came into the club and shook hands with me as if he
+hadn't seen me for a year. In reality I had seen him only
+eleven months ago, and hadn't thought of him since.
+
+"How are you, Parkins?" I said in a guarded tone, for I
+saw at once that there was something special in his
+manner.
+
+"Have a cig?" he said as he sat down on the edge of an
+arm-chair, dangling his little boot.
+
+Any young man who calls a cigarette a "cig" I despise.
+"No, thanks," I said.
+
+"Try one," he went on, "they're Hungarian.  They're some
+I managed to bring through with me out of the war zone."
+
+As he said "war zone," his face twisted up into a sort
+of scowl of self-importance.
+
+I looked at Parkins more closely and I noticed that he
+had on some sort of foolish little coat, short in the
+back, and the kind of bow-tie that they wear in the
+Hungarian bands of the Sixth Avenue restaurants.
+
+Then I knew what the trouble was. He was the last man
+out of Europe, that is to say, the latest last man. There
+had been about fourteen others in the club that same
+afternoon. In fact they were sitting all over it in
+Italian suits and Viennese overcoats, striking German
+matches on the soles of Dutch boots. These were the "war
+zone" men and they had just got out "in the clothes they
+stood up in." Naturally they hated to change.
+
+So I knew all that this young man, Parkins, was going to
+say, and all about his adventures before he began.
+
+"Yes," he said, "we were caught right in the war zone.
+By Jove, I never want to go through again what I went
+through."
+
+With that, he sank back into the chair in the pose of a
+man musing in silence over the recollection of days of
+horror.
+
+I let him muse. In fact I determined to let him muse till
+he burst before I would ask him what he had been through.
+I knew it, anyway.
+
+Presently he decided to go on talking.
+
+"We were at Izzl," he said, "in the Carpathians, Loo
+Jones and I. We'd just made a walking tour from Izzl to
+Fryzzl and back again."
+
+"Why did you come back?" I asked.
+
+"Back where?"
+
+"Back to Izzl," I explained, "after you'd once got to
+Fryzzl. It seems unnecessary, but, never mind, go on."
+
+"That was in July," he continued. "There wasn't a sign
+of war, not a sign. We heard that Russia was beginning
+to mobilize," (at this word be blew a puff from his
+cigarette and then repeated "beginning to mobilize") "but
+we thought nothing of it."
+
+"Of course not," I said.
+
+"Then we heard that Hungary was calling out the Honveds,
+but we still thought nothing of it."
+
+"Certainly not," I said.
+
+"And then we heard--"
+
+"Yes, I know," I said, "you heard that Italy was calling
+out the Trombonari, and that Germany was calling in all
+the Landesgeschutzshaft."
+
+He looked at me.
+
+"How did you know that?" he said.
+
+"We heard it over here," I answered.
+
+"Well," he went on, "next thing we knew we heard that
+the Russians were at Fryzzl."
+
+"Great Heavens!" I exclaimed.
+
+"Yes, at Fryzzl, not a hundred miles away.  The very
+place we'd been at only two weeks before."
+
+"Think of it!" I said. "If you'd been where you were two
+weeks after you were there, or if the Russians had been
+a hundred miles away from where they were, or even if
+Fryzzl had been a hundred miles nearer to Izzl--"
+
+We both shuddered.
+
+"It was a close call," said Parkins. "However, I said to
+Loo Jones, 'Loo, it's time to clear out.' And then, I
+tell you, our trouble began. First of all we couldn't
+get any money.  We went to the bank at Izzl and tried to
+get them to give us American dollars for Hungarian paper
+money; we had nothing else."
+
+"And wouldn't they?"
+
+"Absolutely refused. They said they hadn't any."
+
+"By George," I exclaimed. "Isn't war dreadful? What on
+earth did you do?"
+
+"Took a chance," said Parkins. "Went across to the railway
+station to buy our tickets with the Hungarian money."
+
+"Did you get them?" I said.
+
+"Yes," assented Parkins. "They said they'd sell us tickets.
+But they questioned us mighty closely; asked where we
+wanted to go to, what class we meant to travel by, how
+much luggage we had to register and so on. I tell you
+the fellow looked at us mighty closely."
+
+"Were you in those clothes?" I asked.
+
+"Yes," said Parkins, "but I guess he suspected we weren't
+Hungarians. You see, we couldn't either of us speak
+Hungarian. In fact we spoke nothing but English."
+
+"That would give him a clue," I said.
+
+"However," he went on, "he was civil enough in a way. We
+asked when was the next train to the sea coast, and he
+said there wasn't any."
+
+"No trains?" I repeated.
+
+"Not to the coast. The man said the reason was because
+there wasn't any railway to the coast. But he offered to
+sell us tickets to Vienna. We asked when the train would
+go and he said there wouldn't be one for two hours. So
+there we were waiting on that wretched little platform,--no
+place to sit down, no shade, unless one went into the
+waiting room itself,--for two mortal hours. And even then
+the train was an hour and a half late!"
+
+"An hour and a half late!" I repeated.
+
+"Yep!" said Parkins, "that's what things were like over
+there. So when we got on board the train we asked a man
+when it was due to get to Vienna, and he said he hadn't
+the faintest idea!"
+
+"Good heavens!"
+
+"Not the faintest idea. He told us to ask the conductor
+or one of the porters. No, sir, I'll never forget that
+journey through to Vienna,--nine mortal hours! Nothing
+to eat, not a bite, except just in the middle of the day
+when they managed to hitch on a dining-car for a while.
+And they warned everybody that the dining-car was only
+on for an hour and a half. Commandeered, I guess after
+that," added Parkins, puffing his cigarette.
+
+"Well," he continued, "we got to Vienna at last. I'll
+never forget the scene there, station full of people,
+trains coming and going, men, even women, buying tickets,
+big piles of luggage being shoved on trucks. It gave one
+a great idea of the reality of things."
+
+"It must have," I said.
+
+"Poor old Loo Jones was getting pretty well used up with
+it all. However, we determined to see it through somehow."
+
+"What did you do next?"
+
+"Tried again to get money: couldn't--they changed our
+Hungarian paper into Italian gold, but they refused to
+give us American money."
+
+"Hoarding it?" I hinted.
+
+"Exactly," said Parkins, "hoarding it all for the war.
+Well anyhow we got on a train for Italy and there our
+troubles began all over again:--train stopped at the
+frontier,--officials (fellows in Italian uniforms) went
+all through it, opening hand baggage--"
+
+"Not hand baggage!" I gasped.
+
+"Yes, sir, even the hand baggage. Opened it all, or a
+lot of it anyway, and scribbled chalk marks over it. Yes,
+and worse than that,--I saw them take two fellows and
+sling them clear off the train,--they slung them right
+out on to the platform."
+
+"What for?" I asked.
+
+"Heaven knows," said Parkins,--"they said they had no
+tickets. In war time you know, when they're mobilizing,
+they won't let a soul ride on a train without a ticket."
+
+"Infernal tyranny," I murmured.
+
+"Isn't it? However, we got to Genoa at last, only to find
+that not a single one of our trunks had come with us!"
+
+"Confiscated?" I asked.
+
+"I don't know," said Parkins, "the head baggage man (he
+wears a uniform, you know, in Italy just like a soldier)
+said it was because we'd forgotten to check them in
+Vienna. However there we were waiting for twenty-four
+hours with nothing but our valises."
+
+"Right at the station?" I asked.
+
+"No, at a hotel. We got the trunks later.  They telegraphed
+to Vienna for them and managed to get them through
+somehow,--in a baggage car, I believe."
+
+"And after that, I suppose, you had no more trouble."
+
+"Trouble," said Parkins, "I should say we had. Couldn't
+get a steamer! They said there was none sailing out of
+Genoa for New York for three days! All cancelled, I guess,
+or else rigged up as cruisers."
+
+"What on earth did you do?"
+
+"Stuck it out as best we could: stayed right there in
+the hotel. Poor old Jones was pretty well collapsed!
+Couldn't do anything but sleep and eat, and sit on the
+piazza of the hotel."
+
+"But you got your steamer at last?" I asked.
+
+"Yes," he admitted, "we got it. But I never want to go
+through another voyage like that again, no sir!"
+
+"What was wrong with it?" I asked, "bad weather?"
+
+"No, calm, but a peculiar calm, glassy, with little
+ripples on the water,--uncanny sort of feeling."
+
+"What was wrong with the voyage?"
+
+"Oh, just the feeling of it,--everything under strict
+rule you know--no lights anywhere except just the electric
+lights,--smoking-room closed tight at eleven o'clock,--decks
+all washed down every night--officers up on the bridge
+all day looking out over the sea,--no, sir, I want no
+more of it. Poor old Loo Jones, I guess he's quite used
+up: he can't speak of it at all: just sits and broods,
+in fact I doubt..."
+
+At this moment Parkins's conversation was interrupted by
+the entry of two newcomers into the room. One of them
+had on a little Hungarian suit like the one Parkins wore,
+and was talking loudly as they came in.
+
+"Yes," he was saying, "we were caught there fair and
+square right in the war zone. We were at Izzl in the
+Carpathians, poor old Parkins and I--"
+
+We looked round.
+
+It was Loo Jones, describing his escape from Europe.
+
+
+
+7.--The War Mania of Mr. Jinks and Mr. Blinks
+
+They were sitting face to face at a lunch table at the
+club so near to me that I couldn't avoid hearing what
+they said. In any case they are both stout men with
+gurgling voices which carry.
+
+"What Kitchener ought to do,"--Jinks was saying in a loud
+voice.
+
+So I knew at once that he had the prevailing hallucination.
+He thought he was commanding armies in Europe.
+
+After which I watched him show with three bits of bread
+and two olives and a dessert knife the way in which the
+German army could be destroyed.
+
+Blinks looked at Jinks' diagram with a stern impassive
+face, modelled on the Sunday supplement photogravures of
+Lord Kitchener.
+
+"Your flank would be too much exposed," he said, pointing
+to Jinks' bread. He spoke with the hard taciturnity of
+a Joffre.
+
+"My reserves cover it," said Jinks, moving two pepper
+pots to the support of the bread.
+
+"Mind you," Jinks went on, "I don't say Kitchener WILL
+do this: I say this is what he OUGHT to do: it's exactly
+the tactics of Kuropatkin outside of Mukden and it's
+precisely the same turning movement that Grant used before
+Richmond."
+
+Blinks nodded gravely. Anybody who has seen the Grand
+Duke Nicholoevitch quietly accepting the advice of General
+Ruski under heavy artillery fire, will realize Blinks'
+manner to a nicety.
+
+And, oddly enough, neither of them, I am certain, has
+ever had any larger ideas about the history of the Civil
+War than what can be got from reading Uncle Tom's Cabin
+and seeing Gillette play Secret Service. But this is part
+of the mania. Jinks and Blinks had suddenly developed
+the hallucination that they knew the history of all wars
+by a sort of instinct.
+
+They rose soon after that, dusted off their waistcoats
+with their napkins and waddled heavily towards the door.
+I could hear them as they went talking eagerly of the
+need of keeping the troops in hard training. They were
+almost brutal in their severity. As they passed out of
+the door,--one at a time to avoid crowding,--they were
+still talking about it. Jinks was saying that our whole
+generation is overfed and soft. If he had his way he
+would take every man in the United States up to forty-
+seven years of age (Jinks is forty-eight) and train him
+to a shadow. Blinks went further.  He said they should
+be trained hard up to fifty. He is fifty-one.
+
+After that I used to notice Jinks and Blinks always
+together in the club, and always carrying on the European
+War.
+
+I never knew which side they were on. They seemed to be
+on both. One day they commanded huge armies of Russians,
+and there was one week when Blinks and Jinks at the head
+of vast levies of Cossacks threatened to overrun the
+whole of Western Europe. It was dreadful to watch them
+burning churches and monasteries and to see Jinks throw
+whole convents full of white robed nuns into the flames
+like so much waste paper.
+
+For a time I feared they would obliterate civilization
+itself. Then suddenly Blinks decided that Jinks' Cossacks
+were no good, not properly trained. He converted himself
+on the spot into a Prussian Field Marshal, declared
+himself organised to a pitch of organisation of which
+Jinks could form no idea, and swept Jinks' army off the
+earth, without using any men at all, by sheer organisation.
+
+In this way they moved to and fro all winter over the
+map of Europe, carrying death and destruction everywhere
+and revelling in it.
+
+But I think I liked best the wild excitement of their
+naval battles.
+
+Jinks generally fancied himself a submarine and Blinks
+acted the part of a first-class battleship. Jinks would
+pop his periscope out of the water, take a look at Blinks
+merely for the fraction of a second, and then, like a
+flash, would dive under water again and start firing his
+torpedoes. He explained that he carried six.
+
+But he was never quick enough for Blinks.  One glimpse
+of his periscope miles and miles away was enough. Blinks
+landed him a contact shell in the side, sunk him with
+all hands, and then lined his yards with men and cheered.
+I have known Blinks sink Jinks at two miles, six miles--and
+once--in the club billiard room just after the battle of
+the Falkland Islands,--he got him fair and square at
+ten nautical miles.
+
+Jinks of course claimed that he was not sunk.  He had
+dived. He was two hundred feet under water quietly smiling
+at Blinks through his periscope. In fact the number of
+things that Jinks has learned to do through his periscope
+passes imagination.
+
+Whenever I see him looking across at Blinks with his eyes
+half closed and with a baffling, quizzical expression in
+them, I know that he is looking at him through his
+periscope.  Now is the time for Blinks to watch out. If
+he relaxes his vigilance for a moment he'll be torpedoed
+as he sits, and sent flying, whiskey and soda and all,
+through the roof of the club, while Jinks dives into the
+basement.
+
+Indeed it has come about of late, I don't know just how,
+that Jinks has more or less got command of the sea. A
+sort of tacit understanding has been reached that Blinks,
+whichever army he happens at the moment to command, is
+invincible on land. But Jinks, whether as a submarine or
+a battleship, controls the sea. No doubt this grew up in
+the natural evolution of their conversation. It makes
+things easier for both. Jinks even asks Blinks how many
+men there are in an army division, and what a sotnia of
+Cossacks is and what the Army Service Corps means. And
+Jinks in return has become a recognized expert in torpedoes
+and has taken to wearing a blue serge suit and referring
+to Lord Beresford as Charley.
+
+But what I noticed chiefly about the war mania of Jinks
+and Blinks was their splendid indifference to slaughter.
+They had gone into the war with a grim resolution to
+fight it out to a finish. If Blinks thought to terrify
+Jinks by threatening to burn London, he little knew his
+man. "All right," said Jinks, taking a fresh light for
+his cigar, "burn it! By doing so, you destroy, let us
+say, two million of my women and children? Very good. Am
+I injured by that? No. You merely stimulate me to
+recruiting."
+
+There was something awful in the grimness of the struggle
+as carried on by Blinks and Jinks.
+
+The rights of neutrals and non-combatants, Red Cross
+nurses, and regimental clergymen they laughed to scorn.
+As for moving-picture men and newspaper correspondents,
+Jinks and Blinks hanged them on every tree in Belgium
+and Poland.
+
+With combatants in this frame of mind the war I suppose
+might have lasted forever.
+
+But it came to an end accidentally,--fortuitously, as
+all great wars are apt to. And by accident also, I happened
+to see the end of it.
+
+It was late one evening. Jinks and Blinks were coming
+down the steps of the club, and as they came they were
+speaking with some vehemence on their favourite topic.
+
+"I tell you," Jinks was saying, "war is a great thing.
+We needed it, Blinks. We were all getting too soft, too
+scared of suffering and pain. We wilt at a bayonet charge,
+we shudder at the thought of wounds. Bah!" he continued,
+"what does it matter if a few hundred thousands of human
+beings are cut to pieces.  We need to get back again to
+the old Viking standard, the old pagan ideas of suffering--"
+
+And as he spoke he got it.
+
+The steps of the club were slippery with the evening's
+rain,--not so slippery as the frozen lakes of East Prussia
+or the hills where Jinks and Blinks had been campaigning
+all winter, but slippery enough for a stout man whose
+nation has neglected his training. As Jinks waved his
+stick in the air to illustrate the glory of a bayonet
+charge, he slipped and fell sideways on the stone steps.
+His shin bone smacked against the edge of the stone in
+a way that was pretty well up to the old Viking standard
+of such things. Blinks with the shock of the collision
+fell also,--backwards on the top step, his head striking
+first. He lay, to all appearance, as dead as the most
+insignificant casualty in Servia.
+
+I watched the waiters carrying them into the club, with
+that new field ambulance attitude towards pain which is
+getting so popular. They had evidently acquired precisely
+the old pagan attitude that Blinks and Jinks desired.
+
+And the evening after that I saw Blinks and Jinks, both
+more or less bandaged, sitting in a corner of the club
+beneath a rubber tree, making peace.
+
+Jinks was moving out of Montenegro and Blinks was foregoing
+all claims to Polish Prussia; Jinks was offering
+Alsace-Lorraine to Blinks, and Blinks in a fit of chivalrous
+enthusiasm was refusing to take it. They were disbanding
+troops, blowing up fortresses, sinking their warships
+and offering indemnities which they both refused to take.
+Then as they talked, Jinks leaned forward and said
+something to Blinks in a low voice,--a final proposal of
+terms evidently.
+
+Blinks nodded, and Jinks turned and beckoned to a waiter,
+with the words,--
+
+"One Scotch whiskey and soda, and one stein of Wurtemburger
+Bier--"
+
+And when I heard this, I knew that the war was over.
+
+
+
+8.--The Ground Floor
+
+I hadn't seen Ellesworth since our college days, twenty
+years before, at the time when he used to borrow two
+dollars and a half from the professor of Public Finance
+to tide him over the week end.
+
+Then quite suddenly he turned up at the club one day and
+had afternoon tea with me.
+
+His big clean shaven face had lost nothing of its
+impressiveness, and his spectacles had the same glittering
+magnetism as in the days when he used to get the college
+bursar to accept his note of hand for his fees.
+
+And he was still talking European politics just as he
+used to in the days of our earlier acquaintance.
+
+"Mark my words," he said across the little tea-table,
+with one of the most piercing glances I have ever seen,
+"the whole Balkan situation was only a beginning. We are
+on the eve of a great pan-Slavonic upheaval." And then
+he added, in a very quiet, casual tone: "By the way,
+could you let me have twenty-five dollars till to-morrow?"
+
+"A pan-Slavonic movement!" I ejaculated.  "Do you really
+think it possible? No, I couldn't."
+
+"You must remember," Ellesworth went on, "Russia means
+to reach out and take all she can get;" and he added,
+"how about fifteen till Friday?"
+
+"She may reach for it," I said, "but I doubt if she'll
+get anything. I'm sorry. I haven't got it."
+
+"You're forgetting the Bulgarian element," he continued,
+his animation just as eager as before. "The Slavs never
+forget what they owe to one another."
+
+Here Ellesworth drank a sip of tea and then said quietly,
+"Could you make it ten till Saturday at twelve?"
+
+I looked at him more closely. I noticed now his frayed
+cuffs and the dinginess of his over-brushed clothes. Not
+even the magnetism of his spectacles could conceal it.
+Perhaps I had been forgetting something, whether the
+Bulgarian element or not.
+
+I compromised at ten dollars till Saturday.
+
+"The Slav," said Ellesworth, as he pocketed the money,
+"is peculiar. He never forgets."
+
+"What are you doing now?" I asked him.  "Are you still
+in insurance?" I had a vague recollection of him as
+employed in that business.
+
+"No," he answered. "I gave it up. I didn't like the
+outlook. It was too narrow. The atmosphere cramped me.
+I want," he said, "a bigger horizon."
+
+"Quite so," I answered quietly. I had known men before
+who had lost their jobs. It is generally the cramping of
+the atmosphere that does it. Some of them can use up a
+tremendous lot of horizon.
+
+"At present," Ellesworth went on, "I am in finance. I'm
+promoting companies."
+
+"Oh, yes," I said. I had seen companies promoted before.
+
+"Just now," continued Ellesworth, "I'm working on a thing
+that I think will be rather a big thing. I shouldn't want
+it talked about outside, but it's a matter of taking hold
+of the cod fisheries of the Grand Banks,--practically
+amalgamating them--and perhaps combining with them the
+entire herring output, and the whole of the sardine catch
+of the Mediterranean.  If it goes through," he added, "I
+shall be in a position to let you in on the ground floor."
+
+I knew the ground floor of old. I have already many
+friends sitting on it; and others who have fallen through
+it into the basement.
+
+I said, "thank you," and he left me.
+
+"That was Ellesworth, wasn't it?" said a friend of mine
+who was near me. "Poor devil.  I knew him slightly,--always
+full of some new and wild idea of making money. He was
+talking to me the other day of the possibility of cornering
+all the huckleberry crop and making refined sugar. Isn't
+it amazing what fool ideas fellows like him are always
+putting up to business men?"
+
+We both laughed.
+
+After that I didn't see Ellesworth for some weeks.
+
+Then I met him in the club again. How he paid his fees
+there I do not know.
+
+This time he was seated among a litter of foreign newspapers
+with a cup of tea and a ten-cent package of cigarettes
+beside him.
+
+"Have one of these cigarettes," he said. "I get them
+specially. They are milder than what we have in the club
+here."
+
+They certainly were.
+
+"Note what I say," Ellesworth went on.  "The French
+Republic is going to gain from now on a stability that
+it never had." He seemed greatly excited about it. But
+his voice changed to a quiet tone as he added, "Could
+you, without inconvenience, let me have five dollars?"
+
+So I knew that the cod-fish and the sardines were still
+unamalgamated.
+
+"What about the fisheries thing?" I asked.  "Did it go
+through?"
+
+"The fisheries? No, I gave it up. I refused to go forward
+with it. The New York people concerned were too shy, too
+timid to tackle it. I finally had to put it to them very
+straight that they must either stop shilly-shallying and
+declare themselves, or the whole business was off."
+
+"Did they declare themselves?" I questioned.
+
+"They did," said Ellesworth, "but I don't regret it. I'm
+working now on a much bigger thing,--something with
+greater possibilities in it. When the right moment comes
+I'll let you in on the ground floor."
+
+I thanked him and we parted.
+
+The next time I saw Ellesworth he told me at once that
+he regarded Albania as unable to stand by itself. So I
+gave him five dollars on the spot and left him.
+
+A few days after that he called me up on the telephone
+to tell me that the whole of Asia Minor would have to be
+redistributed. The redistribution cost me five dollars
+more.
+
+Then I met him on the street, and he said that Persia
+was disintegrating, and took from me a dollar and a half.
+
+When I passed him next in the street he was very busy
+amalgamating Chinese tramways. It appeared that there
+was a ground floor in China, but I kept off it.
+
+Each time I saw Ellesworth he looked a little shabbier
+than the last. Then one day he called me up on the
+telephone, and made an appointment.
+
+His manner when I joined him was full of importance.
+
+"I want you at once," he said in a commanding tone, "to
+write me your cheque for a hundred dollars."
+
+"What's the matter?" I asked.
+
+"I am now able," said Ellesworth, "to put you in on the
+ground floor of one of the biggest things in years."
+
+"Thanks," I said, "the ground floor is no place for me."
+
+"Don't misunderstand me," said Ellesworth.  "This is a
+big thing. It's an idea I've been working on for some
+time,--making refined sugar from the huckleberry crop.
+It's a certainty.  I can get you shares now at five
+dollars. They'll go to five hundred when we put them on
+the market,--and I can run you in for a block of stock
+for promotion services as well.  All you have to do is
+to give me right now a hundred dollars,--cash or your
+cheque,--and I can arrange the whole thing for you."
+
+I smiled.
+
+"My dear Ellesworth," I said, "I hope you won't mind if
+I give you a little bit of good advice. Why not drop all
+this idea of quick money? There's nothing in it. The
+business world has grown too shrewd for it. Take an
+ordinary decent job and stick to it. Let me use my
+influence," I added, "to try and get you into something
+with a steady salary, and with your brains you're bound
+to get on in time."
+
+Ellesworth looked pained. A "steady job" sounded to him
+like a "ground floor" to me.
+
+After that I saw nothing of him for weeks.  But I didn't
+forget him. I looked about and secured for him a job as
+a canvassing agent for a book firm at a salary of five
+dollars a week, and a commission of one-tenth of one per
+cent.
+
+I was waiting to tell him of his good luck, when I chanced
+to see him at the club again.
+
+But he looked transformed.
+
+He had on a long frock coat that reached nearly to his
+knees. He was leading a little procession of very heavy
+men in morning coats, upstairs towards the private luncheon
+rooms.  They moved like a funeral, puffing as they went.
+I had seen company directors before and I knew what they
+were at sight.
+
+"It's a small club and rather inconvenient," Ellesworth
+was saying, "and the horizon of some of its members rather
+narrow," here he nodded to me as he passed,--"but I can
+give you a fairly decent lunch."
+
+I watched them as they disappeared upstairs.
+
+"That's Ellesworth, isn't it?" said a man near me. It
+was the same man who had asked about him before.
+
+"Yes," I answered.
+
+"Giving a lunch to his directors, I suppose," said my
+friend; "lucky dog."
+
+"His directors?" I asked.
+
+"Yes, hadn't you heard? He's just cleaned up half a
+million or more,--some new scheme for making refined
+sugar out of huckleberries.  Isn't it amazing what shrewd
+ideas these big business men get hold of? They say they're
+unloading the stock at five hundred dollars. It only cost
+them about five to organize. If only one could get on to
+one of these things early enough, eh?"
+
+I assented sadly.
+
+And the next time I am offered a chance on the ground
+floor I am going to take it, even if it's only the barley
+floor of a brewery.
+
+It appears that there is such a place after all.
+
+
+
+9.--The Hallucination of Mr. Butt
+
+It is the hallucination of Mr. Butt's life that he lives
+to do good. At whatever cost of time or trouble to himself,
+he does it. Whether people appear to desire it or not,
+he insists on helping them along.
+
+His time, his company and his advice are at the service
+not only of those who seek them but of those who, in the
+mere appearances of things, are not asking for them.
+
+You may see the beaming face of Mr. Butt appear at the
+door of all those of his friends who are stricken with
+the minor troubles of life. Whenever Mr. Butt learns that
+any of his friends are moving house, buying furniture,
+selling furniture, looking for a maid, dismissing a maid,
+seeking a chauffeur, suing a plumber or buying a piano,--he
+is at their side in a moment.
+
+So when I met him one night in the cloak room of the club
+putting on his raincoat and his galoshes with a peculiar
+beaming look on his face, I knew that he was up to some
+sort of benevolence.
+
+"Come upstairs," I said, "and play billiards." I saw from
+his general appearance that it was a perfectly safe offer.
+
+"My dear fellow," said Mr. Butt, "I only wish I could.
+I wish I had the time. I am sure it would cheer you up
+immensely if I could.  But I'm just going out."
+
+"Where are you off to?" I asked, for I knew he wanted me
+to say it.
+
+"I'm going out to see the Everleigh-Joneses,--you know
+them? no?--just come to the city, you know, moving into
+their new house, out on Seldom Avenue."
+
+"But," I said, "that's away out in the suburbs, is it
+not, a mile or so beyond the car tracks?"
+
+"Something like that," answered Mr. Butt.
+
+"And it's going on for ten o'clock and it's starting to
+rain--"
+
+"Pooh, pooh," said Mr. Butt, cheerfully, adjusting his
+galoshes. "I never mind the rain,--does one good. As to
+their house. I've not been there yet but I can easily
+find it. I've a very simple system for finding a house
+at night by merely knocking at the doors in the neighborhood
+till I get it."
+
+"Isn't it rather late to go there?" I protested.
+
+"My dear fellow," said Mr. Butt warmly, "I don't mind
+that a bit. The way I look at it is, here are these two
+young people, only married a few weeks, just moving into
+their new house, everything probably upside down, no one
+there but themselves, no one to cheer them up,"--he was
+wriggling into his raincoat as he spoke and working
+himself into a frenzy of benevolence,--"good gracious,
+I only learned at dinner time that they had come to town,
+or I'd have been out there days ago,--days ago--"
+
+And with that Mr. Butt went bursting forth into the rain,
+his face shining with good will under the street lamps.
+
+The next day I saw him again at the club at lunch time.
+
+"Well," I asked, "did you find the Joneses?"
+
+"I did," said Mr. Butt, "and by George I was glad that
+I'd gone--quite a lot of trouble to find the house (though
+I didn't mind that; I expected it)--had to knock at twenty
+houses at least to get it,--very dark and wet out there,
+--no street lights yet,--however I simply pounded at the
+doors until some one showed a light--at every house I
+called out the same things, 'Do you know where the
+Everleigh Joneses live?' They didn't. 'All right,' I
+said, 'go back to bed. Don't bother to come down.'
+
+"But I got to the right spot at last. I found the house
+all dark. Jones put his head out of an upper window.
+'Hullo,' I called out; 'it's Butt.' 'I'm awfully sorry,'
+he said, 'we've gone to bed.' 'My dear boy,' I called
+back, 'don't apologize at all. Throw me down the key and
+I'll wait while you dress. I don't mind a bit.'
+
+"Just think of it," continued Mr. Butt, "those two poor
+souls going to bed at half past ten, through sheer
+dullness! By George, I was glad I'd come. 'Now then,' I
+said to myself, 'let's cheer them up a little, let's make
+things a little brighter here.'
+
+"Well, down they came and we sat there on furniture cases
+and things and had a chat.  Mrs. Jones wanted to make me
+some coffee.  'My dear girl,' I said (I knew them both
+when they were children) 'I absolutely refuse. Let ME
+make it.' They protested. I insisted. I went at it,--kitchen
+all upset--had to open at least twenty tins to get the
+coffee. However, I made it at last. 'Now,' I said, 'drink
+it.' They said they had some an hour or so ago. 'Nonsense,'
+I said, 'drink it.' Well, we sat and chatted away till
+midnight. They were dull at first and I had to do all
+the talking. But I set myself to it. I can talk, you
+know, when I try.  Presently about midnight they seemed
+to brighten up a little. Jones looked at his watch.  'By
+Jove,' he said, in an animated way, 'it's after midnight.'
+I think he was pleased at the way the evening was going;
+after that we chatted away more comfortably. Every little
+while Jones would say, 'By Jove, it's half past twelve,'
+or 'it's one o'clock,' and so on.
+
+"I took care, of course, not to stay too late.  But when
+I left them I promised that I'd come back to-day to help
+straighten things up. They protested, but I insisted."
+
+That same day Mr. Butt went out to the suburbs and put
+the Joneses' furniture to rights.
+
+"I worked all afternoon," he told me afterwards,--"hard
+at it with my coat off--got the pictures up first--they'd
+been trying to put them up by themselves in the morning.
+I had to take down every one of them--not a single one
+right,--'Down they come,' I said, and went at it with a
+will."
+
+A few days later Mr. Butt gave me a further report. "Yes,"
+he said, "the furniture is all unpacked and straightened
+out but I don't like it. There's a lot of it I don't
+quite like. I half feel like advising Jones to sell it
+and get some more. But I don't want to do that till I'm
+quite certain about it."
+
+After that Mr. Butt seemed much occupied and I didn't
+see him at the club for some time.
+
+"How about the Everleigh-Joneses?" I asked. "Are they
+comfortable in their new house?"
+
+Mr. Butt shook his head. "It won't do," he said. "I was
+afraid of it from the first. I'm moving Jones in nearer
+to town. I've been out all morning looking for an apartment;
+when I get the right one I shall move him. I like an
+apartment far better than a house."
+
+So the Joneses in due course of time were moved. After
+that Mr. Butt was very busy selecting a piano, and advising
+them on wall paper and woodwork.
+
+They were hardly settled in their new home when fresh
+trouble came to them.
+
+"Have you heard about Everleigh-Jones?" said Mr. Butt
+one day with an anxious face.
+
+"No," I answered.
+
+"He's ill--some sort of fever--poor chap--been ill three
+days, and they never told me or sent for me--just like
+their grit--meant to fight it out alone. I'm going out
+there at once."
+
+From day to day I had reports from Mr. Butt of the
+progress of Jones's illness.
+
+"I sit with him every day," he said. "Poor chap,--he was
+very bad yesterday for a while,--mind wandered--quite
+delirious--I could hear him from the next room--seemed
+to think some one was hunting him--'Is that damn old fool
+gone,' I heard him say.
+
+"I went in and soothed him. 'There is no one here, my
+dear boy,' I said, 'no one, only Butt.' He turned over
+and groaned. Mrs.  Jones begged me to leave him. 'You
+look quite used up,' she said. 'Go out into the open
+air.' 'My dear Mrs. Jones,' I said, 'what DOES it matter
+about me?'"
+
+Eventually, thanks no doubt to Mr. Butt's assiduous care,
+Everleigh-Jones got well.
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Butt to me a few weeks later, "Jones is
+all right again now, but his illness has been a long hard
+pull. I haven't had an evening to myself since it began.
+But I'm paid, sir, now, more than paid for anything I've
+done,--the gratitude of those two people--it's unbelievable
+--you ought to see it. Why do you know that dear little
+woman is so worried for fear that my strength has been
+overtaxed that she wants me to take a complete rest and
+go on a long trip somewhere--suggested first that I should
+go south. 'My dear Mrs. Jones,' I said laughing, 'that's
+the ONE place I will not go. Heat is the one thing I
+CAN'T stand.' She wasn't nonplussed for a moment.  'Then
+go north,' she said. 'Go up to Canada, or better still
+go to Labrador,'--and in a minute that kind little woman
+was hunting up railway maps to see how far north I could
+get by rail. 'After that,' she said, 'you can go on
+snowshoes.' She's found that there's a steamer to Ungava
+every spring and she wants me to run up there on one
+steamer and come back on the next."
+
+"It must be very gratifying," I said.
+
+"Oh, it is, it is," said Mr. Butt warmly. "It's well
+worth anything I do. It more than repays me. I'm alone
+in the world and my friends are all I have. I can't tell
+you how it goes to my heart when I think of all my friends,
+here in the club and in the town, always glad to see me,
+always protesting against my little kindnesses and yet
+never quite satisfied about anything unless they can get
+my advice and hear what I have to say.
+
+"Take Jones for instance," he continued--"do you know,
+really now as a fact,--the hall porter assures me of
+it,--every time Everleigh-Jones enters the club here
+the first thing he does is to sing out, 'Is Mr. Butt in
+the club?' It warms me to think of it." Mr. Butt paused,
+one would have said there were tears in his eyes. But if
+so the kindly beam of his spectacles shone through them
+like the sun through April rain. He left me and passed
+into the cloak room.
+
+He had just left the hall when a stranger entered, a
+narrow, meek man with a hunted face. He came in with a
+furtive step and looked about him apprehensively.
+
+"Is Mr. Butt in the club?" he whispered to the hall
+porter.
+
+"Yes, sir, he's just gone into the cloak room, sir, shall
+I--"
+
+But the man had turned and made a dive for the front door
+and had vanished.
+
+"Who is that?" I asked.
+
+"That's a new member, sir, Mr. Everleigh-Jones," said
+the hall porter.
+
+
+
+IV-Ram Spudd The New World Singer. Is He Divinely Inspired?
+Or Is He Not? At Any Rate We Discovered Him.
+
+[Footnote: Mr. Spudd was discovered by the author for
+the New York Life. He is already recognized as superior
+to Tennyson and second only, as a writer of imagination,
+to the Sultan of Turkey.]
+
+The discovery of a new poet is always a joy to the
+cultivated world.  It is therefore with the greatest
+pleasure that we are able to announce that we ourselves,
+acting quite independently and without aid from any of
+the English reviews of the day, have discovered one. In
+the person of Mr. Ram Spudd, of whose work we give
+specimens below, we feel that we reveal to our readers
+a genius of the first order. Unlike one of the most
+recently discovered English poets who is a Bengalee, and
+another who is a full-blooded Yak, Mr. Spudd is, we
+believe, a Navajo Indian. We believe this from the
+character of his verse.  Mr. Spudd himself we have not
+seen. But when he forwarded his poems to our office and
+offered with characteristic modesty to sell us his entire
+works for seventy-five cents, we felt in closing with
+his offer that we were dealing not only with a poet, but
+with one of nature's gentlemen.
+
+Mr. Spudd, we understand, has had no education. Other
+newly discovered poets have had, apparently, some. Mr.
+Spudd has had, evidently, none. We lay stress on this
+point.  Without it we claim it is impossible to understand
+his work.
+
+What we particularly like about Ram Spudd, and we do not
+say this because we discovered him but because we believe
+it and must say it, is that he belongs not to one school
+but to all of them. As a nature poet we doubt very much
+if he has his equal; as a psychologist, we are sure he
+has not. As a clear lucid thinker he is undoubtedly in
+the first rank; while as a mystic he is a long way in
+front of it. The specimens of Mr. Spudd's verse which we
+append herewith were selected, we are happy to assure
+our readers, purely at random from his work. We first
+blindfolded ourselves and then, standing with our feet
+in warm water and having one hand tied behind our back,
+we groped among the papers on our desk before us and
+selected for our purpose whatever specimens first came
+to hand.
+
+As we have said, or did we say it, it is perhaps as a
+nature poet that Ram Spudd excels.  Others of our modern
+school have carried the observation of natural objects
+to a high degree of very nice precision, but with Mr.
+Spudd the observation of nature becomes an almost scientific
+process. Nothing escapes him. The green of the grass he
+detects as in an instant. The sky is no sooner blue than
+he remarks it with unerring certainty. Every bird note,
+every bee call, is familiar to his trained ear. Perhaps
+we cannot do better than quote the opening lines of a
+singularly beautiful sample of Ram Spudd's genius which
+seems to us the last word in nature poetry. It is called,
+with characteristic daintiness--
+
+      SPRING THAW IN THE
+   AHUNTSIC WOODS, NEAR PASPEBIAC,
+      PASSAMOQUODDY COUNTY
+
+(We would like to say that, to our ears at least, there
+is a music in this title like the sound of falling water,
+or of chopped ice. But we must not interrupt ourselves.
+We now begin.  Listen.)
+
+ The thermometer is standing this morning at thirty-
+   three decimal one.
+ As a consequence it is freezing in the shade, but
+   it is thawing in the sun.
+ There is a certain amount of snow on the ground,
+   but of course not too much.
+ The air is what you would call humid, but not
+   disagreeable to the touch.
+ Where I am standing I find myself practically
+   surrounded by trees,
+ It is simply astonishing the number of the different
+   varieties one sees.
+ I've grown so wise I can tell each different tree
+   by seeing it glisten,
+ But if that test fails I simply put my ear to the
+   tree and listen,
+ And, well, I suppose it is only a silly fancy of
+   mine perhaps,
+ But do you know I'm getting to tell different trees
+   by the sound of their saps.
+ After I have noticed all the trees, and named those
+   I know in words,
+ I stand quite still and look all round to see if
+   there are any birds,
+ And yesterday, close where I was standing, sitting
+   in some brush on the snow,
+ I saw what I was practically absolutely certain was
+   an early crow.
+ I sneaked up ever so close and was nearly beside
+   it, when say!
+ It turned and took one look at me, and flew away.
+
+But we should not wish our readers to think that Ram
+Spudd is always and only the contemplative poet of the
+softer aspects of nature.  Oh, by no means. There are
+times when waves of passion sweep over him in such
+prodigious volume as to roll him to and fro like a pebble
+in the surf. Gusts of emotion blow over him with such
+violence as to hurl him pro and con with inconceivable
+fury. In such moods, if it were not for the relief offered
+by writing verse we really do not know what would happen
+to him. His verse written under the impulse of such
+emotions marks him as one of the greatest masters of
+passion, wild and yet restrained, objectionable and yet
+printable, that have appeared on this side of the Atlantic.
+We append herewith a portion, or half portion, of his
+little gem entitled
+
+   YOU
+
+   You!
+ With your warm, full, rich, red, ripe lips,
+ And your beautifully manicured finger-tips!
+   You!
+ With your heaving, panting, rapidly expanding and
+   contracting chest,
+ Lying against my perfectly ordinary shirt-front and
+   dinner-jacket vest.
+      It is too much
+      Your touch
+      As such.
+      It and
+      Your hand,
+   Can you not understand?
+ Last night an ostrich feather from your fragrant hair
+      Unnoticed fell.
+      I guard it
+      Well.
+      Yestere'en
+   From your tiara I have slid,
+      Unseen,
+      A single diamond,
+      And I keep it
+      Hid.
+ Last night you left inside the vestibule upon the sill
+      A quarter dollar,
+      And I have it
+      Still.
+
+But even those who know Ram Spudd as the poet of nature
+or of passion still only know a part of his genius. Some
+of his highest flights rise from an entirely different
+inspiration, and deal with the public affairs of the
+nation. They are in every sense comparable to the best
+work of the poets laureate of England dealing with similar
+themes. As soon as we had seen Ram Spudd's work of this
+kind, we cried, that is we said to our stenographer,
+"What a pity that in this republic we have no laureateship.
+Here is a man who might truly fill it." Of the poem of
+this kind we should wish to quote, if our limits of space
+did not prevent it, Mr. Spudd's exquisite
+
+   ODE ON THE REDUCTION OF THE
+      UNITED STATES TARIFF
+
+ It is a matter of the very gravest concern to at least
+   nine-tenths of the business interests in the
+   United States,
+ Whether an all-round reduction of the present tariff
+   either on an ad valorem or a specific basis
+ Could be effected without a serious disturbance of the
+   general industrial situation of the country.
+
+But, no, we must not quote any more. No we really mustn't.
+Yet we cannot refrain from inserting a reference to the
+latest of these laureate poems of Ram Spudd. It appears
+to us to be a matchless specimen of its class, and to
+settle once and for all the vexed question (though we
+ourselves never vexed it) of whether true poetry can deal
+with national occasions as they arise. It is entitled:
+
+   THE BANKER'S EUTHANASIA: OR,
+   THE FEDERAL RESERVE CURRENCY
+      ACT OF 1914,
+
+and, though we do not propose to reproduce it here, our
+distinct feeling is that it will take its rank beside
+Mr. Spudd's Elegy on the Interstate Commerce Act, and
+his Thoughts on the Proposal of a Uniform Pure Food Law.
+
+But our space does not allow us to present Ram Spudd in
+what is after all his greatest aspect, that of a profound
+psychologist, a questioner of the very meaning of life
+itself. His poem Death and Gloom, from which we must
+refrain from quoting at large, contains such striking
+passages as the following:
+
+   Why do I breathe, or do I?
+   What am I for, and whither do I go?
+   What skills it if I live, and if I die,
+      What boots it?
+
+Any one knowing Ram Spudd as we do will realize that
+these questions, especially the last, are practically
+unanswerable.
+
+
+
+V.--Aristocratic Anecdotes or Little Stories of Great
+People
+
+I have been much struck lately by the many excellent
+little anecdotes of celebrated people that have appeared
+in recent memoirs and found their way thence into the
+columns of the daily press. There is something about them
+so deliciously pointed, their humour is so exquisite,
+that I think we ought to have more of them. To this end
+I am trying to circulate on my own account a few anecdotes
+which seem somehow to have been overlooked.
+
+Here, for example, is an excellent thing which comes, if
+I remember rightly, from the vivacious Memoir of Lady
+Ranelagh de Chit Chat.
+
+
+ANECDOTE OF THE DUKE OF STRATHYTHAN
+
+Lady Ranelagh writes:
+
+ "The Duke of Strathythan (I am writing of course of the
+ seventeenth Duke, not of his present Grace) was, as
+ everybody knows, famous for his hospitality.  It was not
+ perhaps generally known that the Duke was as witty as he
+ was hospitable. I recall a most amusing incident that
+ happened the last time but two that I was staying at
+ Strathythan Towers. As we sat down to lunch (we were a
+ very small and intimate party, there being only forty-three
+ of us) the Duke, who was at the head of the table, looked
+ up from the roast of beef that he was carving, and running
+ his eye about the guests was heard to murmur, 'I'm afraid
+ there isn't enough beef to go round.'
+
+ "There was nothing to do, of course, but to roar with
+ laughter and the incident passed off with perfect savoir
+ faire."
+
+Here is another story which I think has not had all the
+publicity that it ought to. I found it in the book "Shot,
+Shell and Shrapnell or Sixty Years as a War Correspondent,"
+recently written by Mr. Maxim Catling whose exploits are
+familiar to all readers.
+
+
+ANECDOTE OF LORD KITCHENER
+
+ "I was standing," writes Mr. Maxim, "immediately between
+ Lord Kitchener and Lord Wolsley (with Lord Roberts a
+ little to the rear of us), and we were laughing and
+ chatting as we always did when the enemy were about to
+ open fire on us. Suddenly we found ourselves the object
+ of the most terrific hail of bullets. For a few moments
+ the air was black with them. As they went past I could
+ not refrain from exchanging a quiet smile with Lord
+ Kitchener, and another with Lord Wolsley. Indeed I have
+ never, except perhaps on twenty or thirty occasions,
+ found myself exposed to such an awful fusillade.
+
+ "Kitchener, who habitually uses an eye-glass (among his
+ friends), watched the bullets go singing by, and then,
+ with that inimitable sangfroid which he reserves for his
+ intimates, said,
+
+ "'I'm afraid if we stay here we may get hit.'
+
+ "We all moved away laughing heartily.
+
+ "To add to the joke, Lord Roberts' aide-de-camp was shot
+ in the pit of the stomach as we went."
+
+The next anecdote which I reproduce may be already too
+well known to my readers. The career of Baron Snorch
+filled so large a page in the history of European diplomacy
+that the publication of his recent memoirs was awaited
+with profound interest by half the chancelleries of
+Europe. (Even the other half were half excited over them.)
+The tangled skein in which the politics of Europe are
+enveloped was perhaps never better illustrated than in
+this fascinating volume. Even at the risk of repeating
+what is already familiar, I offer the following for what
+it is worth--or even less.
+
+
+NEW LIGHT ON THE LIFE OF CAVOUR
+
+ "I have always regarded Count Cavour," writes the Baron,
+ "as one of the most impenetrable diplomatists whom it
+ has been my lot to meet. I distinctly recall an incident
+ in connection with the famous Congress of Paris of 1856
+ which rises before my mind as vividly as if it were
+ yesterday. I was seated in one of the large salons of
+ the Elysee Palace (I often used to sit there) playing
+ vingt-et-un together with Count Cavour, the Duc de Magenta,
+ the Marquese di Casa Mombasa, the Conte di Piccolo Pochito
+ and others whose names I do not recollect. The stakes
+ had been, as usual, very high, and there was a large pile
+ of gold on the table. No one of us, however, paid any
+ attention to it, so absorbed were we all in the thought
+ of the momentous crises that were impending. At intervals
+ the Emperor Napoleon III passed in and out of the room,
+ and paused to say a word or two, with well-feigned
+ eloignement, to the players, who replied with such
+ degagement as they could.
+
+ "While the play was at its height a servant appeared with
+ a telegram on a silver tray. He handed it to Count Cavour.
+ The Count paused in his play, opened the telegram, read
+ it and then with the most inconceivable nonchalance, put
+ it in his pocket. We stared at him in amazement for a
+ moment, and then the Duc, with the infinite ease of a
+ trained diplomat, quietly resumed his play.
+
+ "Two days afterward, meeting Count Cavour at a reception
+ of the Empress Eugenie, I was able, unobserved, to whisper
+ in his ear, 'What was in the telegram?' 'Nothing of any
+ consequence,' he answered.  From that day to this I have
+ never known what it contained. My readers," concludes
+ Baron Snorch, "may believe this or not as they like, but
+ I give them my word that it is true.
+
+ "Probably they will not believe it."
+
+I cannot resist appending to these anecdotes a charming
+little story from that well-known book, "Sorrows of a
+Queen". The writer, Lady de Weary, was an English
+gentlewoman who was for many years Mistress of the Robes
+at one of the best known German courts. Her affection
+for her royal mistress is evident on every page of her
+memoirs.
+
+
+TENDERNESS OF A QUEEN
+
+Lady de W. writes:
+
+ "My dear mistress, the late Queen of Saxe-Covia-Slitz-
+ in-Mein, was of a most tender and sympathetic disposition.
+ The goodness of her heart broke forth on all occasions.
+ I well remember how one day, on seeing a cabman in the
+ Poodel Platz kicking his horse in the stomach, she stopped
+ in her walk and said, 'Oh, poor horse! if he goes on
+ kicking it like that he'll hurt it.'"
+
+I may say in conclusion that I think if people would only
+take a little more pains to resuscitate anecdotes of this
+sort, there might be a lot more of them found.
+
+
+
+VI.--Education Made Agreeable or the Diversions of a
+Professor
+
+A few days ago during a pause in one of my college lectures
+(my class being asleep) I sat reading Draper's "Intellectual
+Development of Europe".  Quite suddenly I came upon the
+following sentence:
+
+"Eratosthenes cast everything he wished to teach into
+poetry. By this means he made it attractive, and he was
+able to spread his system all over Asia Minor."
+
+This came to me with a shock of an intellectual discovery.
+I saw at once how I could spread my system, or parts of
+it, all over the United States and Canada. To make
+education attractive! There it is! To call in the help
+of poetry, of music, of grand opera, if need be, to aid
+in the teaching of the dry subjects of the college class
+room.
+
+I set to work at once on the project and already I have
+enough results to revolutionize education.
+
+In the first place I have compounded a blend of modern
+poetry and mathematics, which retains all the romance of
+the latter and loses none of the dry accuracy of the
+former. Here is an example:
+
+      The poem of
+   LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER
+      expressed as
+   A PROBLEM IN TRIGONOMETRY
+
+INTRODUCTION. A party of three persons, a Scotch nobleman,
+a young lady and an elderly boatman stand on the banks
+of a river (R), which, for private reasons, they desire
+to cross. Their only means of transport is a boat, of
+which the boatman, if squared, is able to row at a rate
+proportional to the square of the distance. The boat,
+however, has a leak (S), through which a quantity of
+water passes sufficient to sink it after traversing an
+indeterminate distance (D).  Given the square of the
+boatman and the mean situation of all concerned, to find
+whether the boat will pass the river safely or sink.
+
+   A chieftain to the Highlands bound
+      Cried "Boatman do not tarry!
+   And I'll give you a silver pound
+      To row me o'er the ferry."
+   Before them raged the angry tide
+   X**2 + Y from side to side.
+
+   Outspake the hardy Highland wight,
+      "I'll go, my chief, I'm ready;
+   It is not for your silver bright,
+      But for your winsome lady."
+   And yet he seemed to manifest
+      A certain hesitation;
+   His head was sunk upon his breast
+      In puzzled calculation.
+
+   "Suppose the river X + Y
+   And call the distance Q
+   Then dare we thus the gods defy
+   I think we dare, don't you?
+      Our floating power expressed in words
+      Is X + 47/3"
+
+   "Oh, haste thee, haste," the lady cries,
+   "Though tempests round us gather
+   I'll face the raging of the skies
+   But please cut out the Algebra."
+
+   The boat has left the stormy shore (S)
+   A stormy C before her
+   C1 C2 C3 C4
+   The tempest gathers o'er her
+      The thunder rolls, the lightning smites 'em
+      And the rain falls ad infinitum.
+
+   In vain the aged boatman strains,
+   His heaving sides reveal his pains;
+   The angry water gains apace
+   Both of his sides and half his base,
+      Till, as he sits, he seems to lose
+      The square of his hypotenuse.
+
+   The boat advanced to X + 2,
+   Lord Ullin reached the fixed point Q,--
+      Then the boat sank from human eye,
+   OY, OY**2, OGY.
+
+But this is only a sample of what can be done. I have
+realised that all our technical books are written and
+presented in too dry a fashion. They don't make the most
+of themselves.  Very often the situation implied is
+intensely sensational, and if set out after the fashion
+of an up-to-date newspaper, would be wonderfully effective.
+
+Here, for example, you have Euclid writing in a perfectly
+prosaic way all in small type such an item as the following:
+
+"A perpendicular is let fall on a line BC so as to bisect
+it at the point C etc., etc.," just as if it were the
+most ordinary occurrence in the world. Every newspaper
+man will see at once that it ought to be set up thus:
+
+      AWFUL CATASTROPHE
+   PERPENDICULAR FALLS HEADLONG
+      ON A GIVEN POINT
+
+   The Line at C said to be completely bisected
+   President of the Line makes Statement
+      etc., etc., etc.
+
+But I am not contenting myself with merely describing my
+system. I am putting it to the test. I am preparing a
+new and very special edition of my friend Professor Daniel
+Murray's work on the Calculus. This is a book little
+known to the general public. I suppose one may say without
+exaggeration that outside of the class room it is hardly
+read at all.
+
+Yet I venture to say that when my new edition is out it
+will be found on the tables of every cultivated home,
+and will be among the best sellers of the year. All that
+is needed is to give to this really monumental book the
+same chance that is given to every other work of fiction
+in the modern market.
+
+First of all I wrap it in what is called technically a
+jacket. This is of white enamelled paper, and on it is
+a picture of a girl, a very pretty girl, in a summer
+dress and sunbonnet sitting swinging on a bough of a
+cherry tree.  Across the cover in big black letters are
+the words:
+
+   THE CALCULUS
+
+and beneath them the legend "the most daring book of the
+day." This, you will observe, is perfectly true. The
+reviewers of the mathematical journals when this book
+first came out agreed that "Professor Murray's views on
+the Calculus were the most daring yet published." They
+said, too, that they hoped that the professor's unsound
+theories of infinitesimal rectitude would not remain
+unchallenged. Yet the public somehow missed it all, and
+one of the most profitable scandals in the publishing
+trade was missed for the lack of a little business
+enterprise.
+
+My new edition will give this book its first real chance.
+
+I admit that the inside has to be altered,--but not very
+much. The real basis of interest is there. The theories
+in the book are just as interesting as those raised in
+the modern novel.  All that is needed is to adopt the
+device, familiar in novels, of clothing the theories in
+personal form and putting the propositions advanced into
+the mouths of the characters, instead of leaving them as
+unsupported statements of the author. Take for example
+Dr.  Murray's beginning. It is very good,--any one will
+admit it,--fascinatingly clever, but it lacks heart.
+
+It runs:
+
+ If two magnitudes, one of which is determined by a straight
+ line and the other by a parabola approach one another,
+ the rectangle included by the revolution of each will be
+ equal to the sum of a series of indeterminate rectangles.
+
+Now this is,--quite frankly,--dull. The situation is
+there; the idea is good, and, whether one agrees or not,
+is at least as brilliantly original as even the best of
+our recent novels. But I find it necessary to alter the
+presentation of the plot a little bit. As I re-edit it
+the opening of the Calculus runs thus:
+
+ On a bright morning in June along a path gay with the
+ opening efflorescence of the hibiscus and entangled here
+ and there with the wild blossoms of the convolvulus,--two
+ magnitudes might have been seen approaching one another.
+ The one magnitude who held a tennis-racket in his hand,
+ carried himself with a beautiful erectness and moved
+ with a firmness such as would have led Professor Murray
+ to exclaim in despair--Let it be granted that A. B.
+ (for such was our hero's name) is a straight line. The
+ other magnitude, which drew near with a step at once
+ elusive and fascinating, revealed as she walked a figure
+ so exquisite in its every curve as to call from her
+ geometrical acquaintances the ecstatic exclamation, "Let
+ it be granted that M is a parabola."
+
+ The beautiful magnitude of whom we have last spoken,
+ bore on her arm as she walked, a tiny dog over which
+ her fair head was bent in endearing caresses; indeed
+ such was her attention to the dog Vi (his full name was
+ Velocity but he was called Vi for short) that her wayward
+ footsteps carried her not in a straight line but in a
+ direction so constantly changing as to lead that acute
+ observer, Professor Murray, to the conclusion that her
+ path could only be described by the amount of attraction
+ ascribable to Vi.
+
+ Guided thus along their respective paths, the two
+ magnitudes presently met with such suddenness that they
+ almost intersected.
+
+ "I beg your pardon," said the first magnitude very
+ rigidly.
+
+ "You ought to indeed," said the second rather sulkily,
+ "you've knocked Vi right out of my arms."
+
+ She looked round despairingly for the little dog which
+ seemed to have disappeared in the long grass.
+
+ "Won't you please pick him up?" she pleaded.
+
+ "Not exactly in my line, you know," answered the other
+ magnitude, "but I tell you what I'll do, if you'll stand
+ still, perfectly still where you are, and let me take
+ hold of your hand, I'll describe a circle!"
+
+ "Oh, aren't you clever!" cried the girl, clapping her
+ hands. "What a lovely idea! You describe a circle all
+ around me, and then we'll look at every weeny bit of it
+ and we'll be sure to find Vi--"
+
+ She reached out her hand to the other magnitude who
+ clasped it with an assumed intensity sufficient to retain
+ it.
+
+ At this moment a third magnitude broke on the scene:--a
+ huge oblong, angular figure, very difficult to describe,
+ came revolving towards them.
+
+ "M," it shouted, "Emily, what are you doing?"
+
+ "My goodness," said the second magnitude in alarm, "it's
+ MAMA."
+
+I may say that the second instalment of Dr.  Murray's
+fascinating romance will appear in the next number of
+the "Illuminated Bookworm", the great adult-juvenile
+vehicle of the newer thought in which these theories of
+education are expounded further.
+
+
+
+VII.--An Every-Day Experience
+
+He came across to me in the semi-silence room of the
+club.
+
+"I had a rather queer hand at bridge last night," he
+said.
+
+"Had you?" I answered, and picked up a newspaper.
+
+"Yes. It would have interested you, I think," he went
+on.
+
+"Would it?" I said, and moved to another chair.
+
+"It was like this," he continued, following me: "I held
+the king of hearts--"
+
+"Half a minute," I said; "I want to go and see what time
+it is." I went out and looked at the clock in the hall.
+I came back.
+
+"And the queen and the ten--" he was saying.
+
+"Excuse me just a second; I want to ring for a messenger."
+
+I did so. The waiter came and went.
+
+"And the nine and two small ones," he went on.
+
+"Two small what?" I asked.
+
+"Two small hearts," he said. "I don't remember which.
+Anyway, I remember very well indeed that I had the king
+and the queen and the jack, the nine, and two little
+ones."
+
+"Half a second," I said, "I want to mail a letter."
+
+When I came back to him, he was still murmuring:
+
+"My partner held the ace of clubs and the queen. The jack
+was out, but I didn't know where the king was--"
+
+"You didn't?" I said in contempt.
+
+"No," he repeated in surprise, and went on murmuring:
+
+"Diamonds had gone round once, and spades twice, and so
+I suspected that my partner was leading from weakness--"
+
+"I can well believe it," I said--"sheer weakness."
+
+"Well," he said, "on the sixth round the lead came to
+me. Now, what should I have done? Finessed for the ace,
+or led straight into my opponent--"
+
+"You want my advice," I said, "and you shall have it,
+openly and fairly. In such a case as you describe, where
+a man has led out at me repeatedly and with provocation,
+as I gather from what you say, though I myself do not
+play bridge, I should lead my whole hand at him.  I
+repeat, I do not play bridge. But in the circumstances,
+I should think it the only thing to do."
+
+
+
+VIII--Truthful Oratory, or What Our Speakers
+Ought to Say
+
+
+I
+
+TRUTHFUL SPEECH GIVING THE
+REAL THOUGHTS OF A DISTINGUISHED
+GUEST AT THE FIFTIETH
+ANNIVERSARY BANQUET
+OF A SOCIETY
+
+Mr. Chairman and gentlemen:  If there is one thing I
+abominate more than another, it is turning out on a cold
+night like this to eat a huge dinner of twelve courses
+and know that I have to make a speech on top of it.
+Gentlemen, I just feel stuffed.  That's the plain truth
+of it. By the time we had finished that fish, I could
+have gone home satisfied. Honestly I could. That's as
+much as I usually eat.  And by the time I had finished
+the rest of the food, I felt simply waterlogged, and I
+do still.  More than that. The knowledge that I had to
+make a speech congratulating this society of yours on
+its fiftieth anniversary haunted and racked me all through
+the meal. I am not, in plain truth, the ready and brilliant
+speaker you take me for. That is a pure myth. If you
+could see the desperate home scene that goes on in my
+family when I am working up a speech, your minds would
+be at rest on that point.
+
+I'll go further and be very frank with you.  How this
+society has lived for fifty years, I don't know. If all
+your dinners are like this, Heaven help you. I've only
+the vaguest idea of what this society is, anyway, and
+what it does. I tried to get a constitution this afternoon
+but failed. I am sure from some of the faces that I
+recognise around this table that there must be good
+business reasons of some sort for belonging to this
+society. There's money in it,--mark my words,--for some
+of you or you wouldn't be here. Of course I quite understand
+that the President and the officials seated here beside
+me come merely for the self-importance of it. That,
+gentlemen, is about their size. I realized that from
+their talk during the banquet. I don't want to speak
+bitterly, but the truth is they are SMALL men and it
+flatters them to sit here with two or three blue ribbons
+pinned on their coats. But as for me, I'm done with it.
+It will be fifty years, please heaven, before this event
+comes round again. I hope, I earnestly hope, that I shall
+be safely under the ground.
+
+
+II
+
+THE SPEECH THAT OUGHT TO BE
+MADE BY A STATE GOVERNOR
+AFTER VISITING THE FALL
+EXPOSITION OF AN AGRICULTURAL
+SOCIETY
+
+Well, gentlemen, this Annual Fall Fair of the Skedink
+County Agricultural Association has come round again. I
+don't mind telling you straight out that of all the
+disagreeable jobs that fall to me as Governor of this
+State, my visit to your Fall Fair is about the toughest.
+
+I want to tell you, gentlemen, right here and now, that
+I don't know anything about agriculture and I don't want
+to. My parents were rich enough to bring me up in the
+city in a rational way. I didn't have to do chores in
+order to go to the high school as some of those present
+have boasted that they did. My only wonder is that they
+ever got there at all.  They show no traces of it.
+
+This afternoon, gentlemen, you took me all round your
+live-stock exhibit. I walked past, and through, nearly
+a quarter of a mile of hogs.  What was it that they were
+called--Tamworths--Berkshires? I don't remember. But
+all I can say, gentlemen, is,--phew! Just that.  Some of
+you will understand readily enough.  That word sums up
+my whole idea of your agricultural show and I'm done with
+it.
+
+No, let me correct myself. There was just one feature of
+your agricultural exposition that met my warm approval.
+You were good enough to take me through the section of
+your exposition called your Midway Pleasance. Let me tell
+you, sirs, that there was more real merit in that than
+all the rest of the show put together. You apologized,
+if I remember rightly, for taking me into the large tent
+of the Syrian Dancing Girls. Oh, believe me, gentlemen,
+you needn't have. Syria is a country which commands my
+profoundest admiration.  Some day I mean to spend a
+vacation there.  And, believe me, gentlemen, when I do
+go,--and I say this with all the emphasis of which I am
+capable,--I should not wish to be accompanied by such a
+set of flatheads as the officials of your Agricultural
+Society.
+
+And now, gentlemen, as I have just received a fake
+telegram, by arrangement, calling me back to the capital
+of the State, I must leave this banquet at once. One word
+in conclusion:  if I had known as fully as I do now how
+it feels to drink half a bucket of sweet cider, I should
+certainly never have come.
+
+
+III
+
+TRUTHFUL SPEECH OF A DISTRICT
+POLITICIAN TO A LADIES' SUFFRAGE
+SOCIETY
+
+Ladies: My own earnest, heartfelt conviction is that you
+are a pack of cats. I use the word "cats" advisedly, and
+I mean every letter of it. I want to go on record before
+this gathering as being strongly and unalterably opposed
+to Woman Suffrage until you get it. After that I favour
+it. My reasons for opposing the suffrage are of a kind
+that you couldn't understand. But all men,--except the
+few that I see at this meeting,--understand them by
+instinct.
+
+As you may, however, succeed as a result of the fuss that
+you are making,--in getting votes, I have thought it best
+to come. Also,--I am free to confess,--I wanted to see
+what you looked like.
+
+On this last head I am disappointed. Personally I like
+women a good deal fatter than most of you are, and better
+looking. As I look around this gathering I see one or
+two of you that are not so bad, but on the whole not
+many. But my own strong personal predilection is and
+remains in favour of a woman who can cook, mend clothes,
+talk when I want her to, and give me the kind of admiration
+to which I am accustomed.
+
+Let me, however, say in conclusion that I am altogether
+in sympathy with your movement to this extent. If you
+ever DO get votes,--and the indications are that you will
+(blast you),--I want your votes, and I want all of them.
+
+
+
+IX.-Our Literary Bureau
+
+[Footnote: This literary bureau was started by the author
+in the New York Century. It leaped into such immediate
+prominence that it had to be closed at once.]
+
+ NOVELS READ TO ORDER
+    FIRST AID FOR THE
+       BUSY MILLIONAIRE
+
+ NO BRAINS NEEDED
+  NO TASTE REQUIRED
+   NOTHING BUT MONEY
+    SEND IT TO US
+
+We have lately been struck,--of course not dangerously,--by
+a new idea. A recent number of a well-known magazine
+contains an account of an American multimillionaire who,
+on account of the pressure of his brain power and the
+rush of his business, found it impossible to read the
+fiction of the day for himself.  He therefore caused his
+secretaries to look through any new and likely novel and
+make a rapid report on its contents, indicating for his
+personal perusal the specially interesting parts.
+
+Realizing the possibilities coiled up in this plan, we
+have opened a special agency or bureau for doing work of
+this sort. Any over-busy multimillionaire, or superman,
+who becomes our client may send us novels, essays, or
+books of any kind, and will receive a report explaining
+the plot and pointing out such parts as he may with
+propriety read. If he can once find time to send us a
+postcard, or a postal cablegram, night or day, we undertake
+to assume all the further effort of reading. Our terms
+for ordinary fiction are one dollar per chapter; for
+works of travel, 10 cents per mile; and for political or
+other essays, two cents per page, or ten dollars per
+idea, and for theological and controversial work, seven
+dollars and fifty cents per cubic yard extracted. Our
+clients are assured of prompt and immediate attention.
+
+Through the kindness of the Editor of the Century we are
+enabled to insert here a sample of our work. It was done
+to the order of a gentleman of means engaged in silver
+mining in Colorado, who wrote us that he was anxious to
+get "a holt" on modern fiction, but that he had no time
+actually to read it. On our assuring him that this was
+now unnecessary, he caused to be sent to us the monthly
+parts of a serial story, on which we duly reported as
+follows:
+
+
+JANUARY INSTALMENT
+
+   Theodolite Gulch,
+    The Dip, Canon County,
+     Colorado.
+
+Dear Sir:
+
+We beg to inform you that the scene of the opening chapter
+of the Fortunes of Barbara Plynlimmon is laid in Wales.
+The scene is laid, however, very carelessly and hurriedly
+and we expect that it will shortly be removed. We cannot,
+therefore, recommend it to your perusal. As there is a
+very fine passage describing the Cambrian Hills by
+moonlight, we enclose herewith a condensed table showing
+the mean altitude of the moon for the month of December
+in the latitude of Wales. The character of Miss Plynlimmon
+we find to be developed in conversation with her
+grandmother, which we think you had better not read. Nor
+are we prepared to endorse your reading the speeches of
+the Welsh peasantry which we find in this chapter, but
+we forward herewith in place of them a short glossary of
+Welsh synonyms which may aid you in this connection.
+
+
+FEBRUARY INSTALMENT
+
+Dear Sir:
+
+We regret to state that we find nothing in the second
+chapter of the Fortunes of Barbara Plynlimmon which need
+be reported to you at length. We think it well, however,
+to apprise you of the arrival of a young Oxford student
+in the neighbourhood of Miss Plynlimmon's cottage, who
+is apparently a young man of means and refinement. We
+enclose a list of the principal Oxford Colleges.
+
+We may state that from the conversation and manner of
+this young gentleman there is no ground for any apprehension
+on your part. But if need arises we will report by cable
+to you instantly.
+
+The young gentleman in question meets Miss Plynlimmon at
+sunrise on the slopes of Snowdon. As the description of
+the meeting is very fine we send you a recent photograph
+of the sun.
+
+
+MARCH INSTALMENT
+
+Dear Sir:
+
+Our surmise was right. The scene of the story that we
+are digesting for you is changed. Miss Plynlimmon has
+gone to London. You will be gratified to learn that she
+has fallen heir to a fortune of 100,000 pounds, which we
+are happy to compute for you at $486,666 and 66 cents
+less exchange. On Miss Plynlimmon's arrival at Charing
+Cross Station, she is overwhelmed with that strange
+feeling of isolation felt in the surging crowds of a
+modern city. We therefore enclose a timetable showing
+the arrival and departure of all trains at Charing Cross.
+
+
+APRIL INSTALMENT
+
+Dear Sir:
+
+We beg to bring to your notice the fact that Miss Barbara
+Plynlimmon has by an arrangement made through her trustees
+become the inmate, on a pecuniary footing, in the household
+of a family of title.  We are happy to inform you that
+her first appearance at dinner in evening dress was most
+gratifying:  we can safely recommend you to read in this
+connection lines 4 and 5 and the first half of line 6 on
+page 1OO of the book as enclosed. We regret to say that
+the Marquis of Slush and his eldest son Viscount Fitzbuse
+(courtesy title) are both addicted to drink. They have
+been drinking throughout the chapter. We are pleased to
+state that apparently the second son, Lord Radnor of
+Slush, who is away from home is not so addicted. We send
+you under separate cover a bottle of Radnor water.
+
+
+MAY INSTALMENT
+
+Dear Sir:
+
+We regret to state that the affairs of Miss Barbara
+Plynlimmon are in a very unsatisfactory position. We
+enclose three pages of the novel with the urgent request
+that you will read them at once. The old Marquis of Slush
+has made approaches towards Miss Plynlimmon of such a
+scandalous nature that we think it best to ask you to
+read them in full. You will note also that young Viscount
+Slush who is tipsy through whole of pages 121-125, 128-133,
+and part of page 140, has designs upon her fortune. We
+are sorry to see also that the Marchioness of Buse under
+the guise of friendship has insured Miss Plynlimmon's
+life and means to do away with her. The sister of the
+Marchioness, the Lady Dowager, also wishes to do away
+with her. The second housemaid who is tempted by her
+jewellery is also planning to do away with her.  We feel
+that if this goes on she will be done away with.
+
+
+JUNE INSTALMENT
+
+Dear Sir:
+
+We beg to advise you that Viscount Fitz-buse, inflamed
+by the beauty and innocence of Miss Plynlimmon, has gone
+so far as to lay his finger on her (read page 170, lines
+6-7). She resisted his approaches. At the height of the
+struggle a young man, attired in the costume of a Welsh
+tourist, but wearing the stamp of an Oxford student, and
+yet carrying himself with the unmistakable hauteur (we
+knew it at once) of an aristocrat, burst, or bust, into
+the room. With one blow he felled Fitz-buse to the floor;
+with another he clasped the girl to his heart.
+
+"Barbara!" he exclaimed.
+
+"Radnor," she murmured.
+
+You will be pleased to learn that this is the second son
+of the Marquis, Viscount Radnor, just returned from a
+reading tour in Wales.
+
+P. S. We do not know what he read, so we enclose a file
+of Welsh newspapers to date.
+
+
+JULY INSTALMENT
+
+We regret to inform you that the Marquis of Slush has
+disinherited his son. We grieve to state that Viscount
+Radnor has sworn that he will never ask for Miss
+Plynlimmon's hand till he has a fortune equal to her own.
+Meantime, we are sorry to say, he proposes to work.
+
+
+AUGUST INSTALMENT
+
+The Viscount is seeking employment.
+
+
+SEPTEMBER INSTALMENT
+
+The Viscount is looking for work.
+
+
+OCTOBER INSTALMENT
+
+The Viscount is hunting for a job.
+
+
+NOVEMBER INSTALMENT
+
+We are most happy to inform you that Miss Plynlimmon has
+saved the situation. Determined to be worthy of the
+generous love of Viscount Radnor, she has arranged to
+convey her entire fortune to the old family lawyer who
+acts as her trustee. She will thus become as poor as the
+Viscount and they can marry.  The scene with the old
+lawyer who breaks into tears on receiving the fortune,
+swearing to hold and cherish it as his own is very
+touching. Meantime, as the Viscount is hunting for a job,
+we enclose a list of advertisements under the heading
+Help Wanted--Males.
+
+
+DECEMBER INSTALMENT
+
+You will be very gratified to learn that the fortunes of
+Miss Barbara Plynlimmon have come to a most pleasing
+termination. Her marriage with the Viscount Radnor was
+celebrated very quietly on page 231. (We enclose a list
+of the principal churches in London.) No one was present
+except the old family lawyer, who was moved to tears at
+the sight of the bright, trusting bride, and the clergyman
+who wept at the sight of the cheque given him by the
+Viscount.  After the ceremony the old trustee took Lord
+and Lady Radnor to a small wedding breakfast at an hotel
+(we enclose a list). During the breakfast a sudden
+faintness (for which we had been watching for ten pages)
+overcame him. He sank back in his chair, gasping. Lord
+and Lady Radnor rushed to him and sought in vain to
+tighten his necktie. He expired under their care, having
+just time to indicate in his pocket a will leaving them
+his entire wealth.
+
+This had hardly happened when a messenger brought news
+to the Viscount that his brother, Lord Fitz-buse had been
+killed in the hunting field, and that he (meaning him,
+himself) had now succeeded to the title. Lord and Lady
+Fitz-buse had hardly time to reach the town house of the
+family when they learned that owing to the sudden death
+of the old Marquis (also, we believe, in the hunting
+field), they had become the Marquis and the Marchioness
+of Slush.
+
+The Marquis and the Marchioness of Slush are still living
+in their ancestral home in London. Their lives are an
+example to all their tenantry in Piccadilly, the Strand
+and elsewhere.
+
+
+CONCLUDING NOTE
+
+Dear Mr. Gulch:
+
+We beg to acknowledge with many thanks your cheque for
+one thousand dollars.
+
+We regret to learn that you have not been able to find
+time to read our digest of the serial story placed with
+us at your order. But we note with pleasure that you
+propose to have the "essential points" of our digest
+"boiled down" by one of the business experts of your
+office.
+
+Awaiting your commands,
+
+We remain, etc., etc.
+
+
+
+X.--Speeding Up Business
+
+We were sitting at our editorial desk in our inner room,
+quietly writing up our week's poetry, when a stranger
+looked in upon us.
+
+He came in with a burst,--like the entry of the hero of
+western drama coming in out of a snowstorm. His manner
+was all excitement.  "Sit down," we said, in our grave,
+courteous way. "Sit down!" he exclaimed, "certainly not!
+Are you aware of the amount of time and energy that are
+being wasted in American business by the practice of
+perpetually sitting down and standing up again? Do you
+realize that every time you sit down and stand up you
+make a dead lift of"--he looked at us,--"two hundred
+and fifty pounds? Did you ever reflect that every time
+you sit down you have to get up again?" "Never," we said
+quietly, "we never thought of it." "You didn't!" he
+sneered. "No, you'd rather go on lifting 250 pounds
+through two feet,--an average of 500 foot-pounds,
+practically 62 kilowatts of wasted power. Do you know
+that by merely hitching a pulley to the back of your neck
+you could generate enough power to light your whole
+office?"
+
+We hung our heads. Simple as the thing was, we had never
+thought of it. "Very good," said the Stranger. "Now, all
+American business men are like you. They don't think,--do
+you understand me? They don't think."
+
+We realized the truth of it at once. We had never thought.
+Perhaps we didn't even know how.
+
+"Now, I tell you," continued our visitor, speaking rapidly
+and with a light of wild enthusiasm in his face, "I'm
+out for a new campaign,--efficiency in business--speeding
+things up--better organization."
+
+"But surely," we said, musingly, "we have seen something
+about this lately in the papers?" "Seen it, sir," he
+exclaimed, "I should say so.  It's everywhere. It's a
+new movement. It's in the air. Has it never struck you
+how a thing like this can be seen in the air?"
+
+Here again we were at fault. In all our lives we had
+never seen anything in the air. We had never even looked
+there. "Now," continued the Stranger, "I want your paper
+to help. I want you to join in. I want you to give
+publicity."
+
+"Assuredly," we said, with our old-fashioned politeness.
+"Anything which concerns the welfare, the progress, if
+one may so phrase it--" "Stop," said the visitor. "You
+talk too much.  You're prosy. Don't talk. Listen to me.
+Try and fix your mind on what I am about to say."
+
+We fixed it. The Stranger's manner became somewhat calmer.
+"I am heading," he said, "the new American efficiency
+movement.  I have sent our circulars to fifty thousand
+representative firms, explaining my methods. I am receiving
+ten thousand answers a day"--here he dragged a bundle
+of letters out of his pocket--"from Maine, from New
+Hampshire, from Vermont,"--"Massachusetts, Rhode Island,
+Connecticut," we murmured.
+
+"Exactly," he said; "from every State in the Union--from
+the Philippines, from Porto Rico, and last week I had
+one from Canada." "Marvellous," we said; "and may one
+ask what your new methods are?"
+
+"You may," he answered. "It's a proper question. It's a
+typical business question, fair, plain, clean, and even
+admitting of an answer.  The great art of answering
+questions," he continued, "is to answer at once without
+loss of time, friction or delay in moving from place to
+place. I'll answer it."
+
+"Do," we said.
+
+"I will," said the Stranger. "My method is first: to
+stimulate business to the highest point by infusing into
+it everywhere the spirit of generous rivalry, of wholesome
+competition; by inviting each and every worker to outdo
+each and every other."
+
+"And can they do it?" we asked, puzzled and yet fascinated.
+"Can they all do it?"
+
+"They do, and they can," said the Stranger.  "The proof
+of it is that they are doing it.  Listen. Here is an
+answer to my circular No. 6, Efficiency and Recompense,
+that came in this morning. It is from a steel firm.
+Listen." The Stranger picked out a letter and read it.
+
+Dear Sir:
+
+Our firm is a Steel Corporation. We roll rails.  As soon
+as we read your circular on the Stimulus of Competition
+we saw that there were big things in it.  At once we sent
+one of our chief managers to the rolling, mill. He carried
+a paper bag in his hand. "Now boys," he said, "every man
+who rolls a rail gets a gum-drop." The effect was magical.
+The good fellows felt a new stimulus. They now roll out
+rails like dough.  Work is a joy to them. Every Saturday
+night the man who has rolled most gets a blue ribbon;
+the man who has rolled the next most, a green ribbon;
+the next most a yellow ribbon, and so on through the
+spectroscope.  The man who rolls least gets only a red
+ribbon.  It is a real pleasure to see the brave fellows
+clamouring for their ribbons. Our output, after defraying
+the entire cost of the ribbons and the gum-drops, has
+increased forty per cent. We intend to carry the scheme
+further by allowing all the men who get a hundred blue
+ribbons first, to exchange them for the Grand Efficiency
+Prize of the firm,--a pink ribbon.  This the winner will
+be entitled to wear whenever and wherever he sees fit to
+wear it.
+
+The stranger paused for breath.
+
+"Marvellous," we said. "There is no doubt the stimulus
+of keen competition--"
+
+"Shut up," he said impatiently. "Let me explain it further.
+Competition is only part of it. An item just as big that
+makes for efficiency is to take account of the little
+things. It's the little things that are never thought
+of."
+
+Here was another wonder! We realized that we had never
+thought of them. "Take an example," the Stranger continued.
+"I went into a hotel the other day. What did I see?
+Bell-boys being summoned upstairs every minute, and flying
+up in the elevators. Yes,--and every time they went up
+they had to come down again. I went up to the manager.
+I said, 'I can understand that when your guests ring for
+the bell-boys they have to go up. But why should they
+come down? Why not have them go up and never come down?'
+He caught the idea at once. That hotel is transformed.
+I have a letter from the manager stating that they find
+it fifty per cent. cheaper to hire new bell-boys instead
+of waiting for the old ones to come down."
+
+"These results," we said, "are certainly marvellous. "You
+are most assuredly to be congratulated on--"
+
+"You talk too much," said the Stranger.  "Don't do it.
+Learn to listen. If a young man comes to me for advice
+in business,--and they do in hundreds, lots of them,--almost
+in tears over their inefficiency,--I'd say, 'Young man,
+never talk, listen; answer, but don't speak.' But even
+all this is only part of the method.  Another side of it
+is technique."
+
+"Technique?" we said, pleased but puzzled.
+
+"Yes, the proper use of machine devices.  Take the building
+trade. I've revolutionized it. Till now all the bricks
+even for a high building were carried up to the mason in
+hods.  Madness! Think of the waste of it. By my method
+instead of carrying the bricks to the mason we take the
+mason to the brick,--lower him on a wire rope, give him
+a brick, and up he goes again. As soon as he wants another
+brick he calls down, 'I want a brick,' and down he comes
+like lightning."
+
+"This," we said, "is little short of--"
+
+"Cut it out. Even that is not all. Another thing bigger
+than any is organization. Half the business in this
+country is not organized.  As soon as I sent out my
+circular, No. 4, HAVE YOU ORGANIZED YOUR BUSINESS!  I
+got answers in thousands! Heart-broken, many of them.
+They had never thought of it! Here, for example, is a
+letter written by a plain man, a gardener, just an ordinary
+man, a plain man--"
+
+"Yes," we said, "quite so."
+
+"Well, here is what he writes:
+
+Dear Sir:
+
+As soon as I got your circular I read it all through
+from end to end, and I saw that all my failure in
+the past had come from my not being organized. I
+sat and thought a long while and I decided that I
+would organize myself. I went right in to the house
+and I said to my wife, "Jane, I'm going to organize
+myself." She said, "Oh, John!"--and not another
+word, but you should have seen the look on her face.
+So the next morning I got up early and began to
+organize myself. It was hard at first but I stuck to it.
+There were times when I felt as if I couldn't do it.
+It seemed too hard. But bit by bit I did it and now,
+thank God, I am organized. I wish all men like me
+could know the pleasure I feel in being organized."
+
+"Touching, isn't it?" said the Stranger.  "But I get lots
+of letters like that. Here's another, also from a man,
+a plain man, working on his own farm. Hear what he says:
+
+Dear Sir:
+
+As soon as I saw your circular on HOW TO SPEED UP THE
+EMPLOYEE I felt that it was a big thing. I don't have
+any hired help here to work with me, but only father. He
+cuts the wood and does odd chores about the place. So I
+realized that the best I could do was to try to speed up
+father. I started in to speed him up last Tuesday, and
+I wish you could see him. Before this he couldn't split
+a cord of wood without cutting a slice off his boots.
+Now he does it in half the time."
+
+"But there," the Stranger said, getting impatient even
+with his own reading, "I needn't read it all. It is the
+same thing all along the line. I've got the Method
+introduced into the Department Stores. Before this every
+customer who came in wasted time trying to find the
+counters. Now we install a patent springboard, with a
+mechanism like a catapault. As soon as a customer comes
+in an attendant puts him on the board, blindfolds him,
+and says, 'Where do you want to go?' 'Glove counter.'
+'Oh, all right.' He's fired at it through the air.  No
+time lost. Same with the railways.  They're installing
+the Method, too. Every engineer who breaks the record
+from New York to Buffalo gets a glass of milk. When he
+gets a hundred glasses he can exchange them for a glass
+of beer. So with the doctors. On the new method, instead
+of giving a patient one pill a day for fourteen days they
+give him fourteen pills in one day. Doctors, lawyers,
+everybody,--in time, sir," said the Stranger, in tones
+of rising excitement, "you'll see even the plumbers--"
+
+But just at this moment the door opened.  A sturdy-looking
+man in blue entered. The Stranger's voice was hushed at
+once. The excitement died out of his face. His manner
+all of a sudden was meekness itself.
+
+"I was just coming," he said.
+
+"That's right, sir," said the man; "better come along
+and not take up the gentleman's time."
+
+"Good-bye, then," said the Stranger, with meek affability,
+and he went out.
+
+The man in blue lingered behind for a moment.
+
+"A sad case, sir," he said, and he tapped his forehead.
+
+"You mean--" I asked.
+
+"Exactly. Cracked, sir. Quite cracked; but harmless. I'm
+engaged to look after him, but he gave me the slip
+downstairs."
+
+"He is under delusions?" we inquired.
+
+"Yes, sir. He's got it into his head that business in
+this country has all gone to pieces,--thinks it must be
+reorganized. He writes letters about it all day and sends
+them to the papers with imaginary names. You may have
+seen some of them. Good day, sir."
+
+We looked at our watch. We had lost just half an hour
+over the new efficiency. We turned back with a sigh to
+our old-fashioned task.
+
+
+
+XI.--Who Is Also Who. A Companion Volume
+to Who's Who
+
+Note by the editor: I do not quarrel with the contents
+of such valuable compendiums as "Who's Who," "Men and
+Women of the Time," etc., etc. But they leave out the
+really Representative People. The names that they include
+are so well known as to need no commentary, while those
+that they exclude are the very people one most wishes to
+read about.  My new book is not arranged alphabetically,
+that order having given great offence in certain social
+circles.
+
+Smith, J. Everyman: born Kenoka Springs; educ. Kenoka
+Springs; present residence, The Springs, Kenoka; address,
+Kenoka Springs Post-Office; after leaving school threw
+himself (Oct. 1881) into college study; thrown out of it
+(April 1882); decided to follow the law; followed it
+(1882); was left behind (1883); decided (1884) to abandon
+it; abandoned it; resolved (1885) to turn his energies
+to finance; turned them (1886); kept them turned (1887);
+unturned them (1888); was offered position (1889) as sole
+custodian of Mechanics' Institute, Kenoka Springs; decided
+(same date) to accept it; accepted it; is there now; will
+be till he dies.
+
+Flintlock, J. Percussion: aged 87; war veteran and
+pensioner; born, blank; educated, blank; at outbreak of
+Civil War sprang to arms; both sides; sprang Union first;
+entered beef contract department of army of U. S.; fought
+at Chicago, Omaha, and leading (beef) centres of operation
+during the thickest of the (beef) conflict; was under
+Hancock, Burnside, Meade, and Grant; fought with all of
+them; mentioned (very strongly) by all of them; entered
+Confederate Service (1864); attached (very much) to rum
+department of quarter-master's staff; mentioned in this
+connection (very warmly) in despatches of General Lee;
+mustered out, away out, of army; lost from sight, 1865-1895;
+placed on pension list with rank of general, 1895; has
+stayed on, 1895-1915; obtained (on 6th Avenue) war medals
+and service clasps; publications--"My Campaigns under
+Grant," "Battles I have Saved," "Feeding an Army,"
+"Stuffing the Public," etc., etc.; recreations, telling
+war stories; favorite amusement, showing war medals.
+
+Crook, W. Underhand: born, dash; parents, double dash;
+educated at technical school; on graduation turned his
+attention to the problem of mechanical timelocks and
+patent safes; entered Sing-Sing, 1890; resident there,
+1890-1893; Auburn, 1894, three months; various state
+institutions, 1895-1898; worked at profession, 1898-1899;
+Sing-Sing, 1900; professional work, 1901; Sing-Sing,
+1902; profession, 1903, Sing-Sing; profession, Sing-Sing,
+etc., etc.; life appointment, 1908; general favorite,
+musical, has never killed anybody.
+
+Gloomie, Dreary O'Leary: Scotch dialect comedian and
+humorist; well known in Scotland; has standing offer from
+Duke of Sutherland to put foot on estate.
+
+Muck, O. Absolute: novelist; of low German extraction;
+born Rotterdam; educated Muckendorf; escaped to America;
+long unrecognized; leaped into prominence by writing "The
+Social Gas-Pipe," a powerful indictment of modern society,
+written in revenge for not being invited to dinner; other
+works--"The Sewerage of the Sea-Side," an arraignment of
+Newport society, reflecting on some of his best friends;
+"Vice and Super-Vice," a telling denunciation of the New
+York police, written after they had arrested him; "White
+Ravens," an indictment of the clergy; "Black Crooks," an
+indictment of the publishers, etc., etc.; has arraigned
+and indicted nearly everybody.
+
+Whyner, Egbert Ethelwind: poet, at age of sixteen wrote
+a quatrain, "The Banquet of Nebuchadnezzar," and at once
+left school; followed it up in less than two years by a
+poem in six lines "America"; rested a year and then
+produced "Babylon, A Vision of Civilization," three lines;
+has written also "Herod, a Tragedy," four lines; "Revolt
+of Woman, "two lines, and "The Day of Judgement," one
+line.  Recreation, writing poetry.
+
+Adult, Hon. Underdone: address The Shrubbery, Hopton-
+under-Hyde, Rotherham-near-Pottersby, Potts, Hants,
+Hops, England (or words to that effect); organizer of
+the Boys' League of Pathfinders, Chief Commissioner of
+the Infant Crusaders, Grand Master of the Young Imbeciles;
+Major-General of the Girl Rangers, Chief of Staff of the
+Matron Mountain Climbers, etc.
+
+Zfwinski, X. Z.: Polish pianist; plays all night; address
+4,570 West 457 Street, Westside, Chicago West.
+
+
+
+XII.--Passionate Paragraphs
+
+(An extract from a recent (very recent) novel, illustrating
+the new beauties of language and ideas that are being
+rapidly developed by the twentieth century press.)
+
+His voice as he turned towards her was taut as a tie-line.
+
+"You don't love me!" he hoarsed, thick with agony. She
+had angled into a seat and sat sensing-rather-than-seeing
+him.
+
+For a time she silenced. Then presently as he still stood
+and enveloped her,--
+
+"Don't!" she thinned, her voice fining to a thread.
+
+"Answer me," he gloomed, still gazing into-and-through
+her.
+
+She half-heard half-didn't-hear him.
+
+Night was falling about them as they sat thus beside the
+river. A molten afterglow of iridescent saffron shot with
+incandescent carmine lit up the waters of the Hudson till
+they glowed like electrified uranium.
+
+For a while they both sat silent,--looming.
+
+"It had to be," she glumped.
+
+"Why, why?" he barked. "Why should it have had to have
+been or (more hopefully) even be to be? Surely you don't
+mean because of MONEY?"
+
+She shuddered into herself.
+
+The thing seemed to sting her (it hadn't really).
+
+"Money!" she almost-but-not-quite-moaned.  "You might
+have spared me that!"
+
+He sank down and grassed.
+
+And after they had sat thus for another half-hour grassing
+and growling and angling and sensing one another, it
+turned out that all that he was trying to say was to ask
+if she would marry him.
+
+And of course she said yes.
+
+
+
+XIII.--Weejee the Pet Dog. An Idyll of the Summer
+
+We were sitting on the verandah of the Sopley's summer
+cottage.
+
+"How lovely it is here," I said to my host and hostess,
+"and how still."
+
+It was at this moment that Weejee, the pet dog, took a
+sharp nip at the end of my tennis trousers.
+
+"Weejee!!" exclaimed his mistress with great emphasis,
+"BAD dog! how dare you, sir! BAD dog!"
+
+"I hope he hasn't hurt you," said my host.
+
+"Oh, it's nothing," I answered cheerfully.  "He hardly
+scratched me."
+
+"You know I don't think he means anything by it," said
+Mrs. Sopley.
+
+"Oh, I'm SURE he doesn't," I answered.
+
+Weejee was coming nearer to me again as I spoke.
+
+"WEEJEE!!" cried my hostess, "naughty dog, bad!"
+
+"Funny thing about that dog," said Sopley, "the way he
+KNOWS people. It's a sort of instinct. He knew right away
+that you were a stranger,--now, yesterday, when the
+butcher came, there was a new driver on the cart and
+Weejee knew it right away,--grabbed the man by the leg
+at once,--wouldn't let go. I called out to the man that
+it was all right or he might have done Weejee some harm."
+
+At this moment Weejee took the second nip at my other
+trouser leg. There was a short GUR-R-R and a slight
+mix-up.
+
+"Weejee! Weejee!" called Mrs. Sopley.  "How DARE you,
+sir! You're just a BAD dog!!  Go and lie down, sir. I'm
+so sorry. I think, you know, it's your white trousers.
+For some reason Weejee simply HATES white trousers. I do
+hope he hasn't torn them."
+
+"Oh, no," I said; "it's nothing only a slight tear."
+
+"Here, Weege, Weege," said Sopley, anxious to make a
+diversion and picking up a little chip of wood,--"chase
+it, fetch it out!" and he made the motions of throwing
+it into the lake.
+
+"Don't throw it too far, Charles," said his wife. "He
+doesn't swim awfully well," she continued, turning to
+me, "and I'm always afraid he might get out of his depth.
+Last week he was ever so nearly drowned. Mr. Van Toy
+was in swimming, and he had on a dark blue suit (dark
+blue seems simply to infuriate Weejee) and Weejee just
+dashed in after him. He don't MEAN anything, you know,
+it was only the SUIT made him angry,--he really likes
+Mr. Van Toy,--but just for a minute we were quite alarmed.
+If Mr. Van Toy hadn't carried Weejee in I think he might
+have been drowned.
+
+"By jove!" I said in a tone to indicate how appalled I
+was.
+
+"Let me throw the stick, Charles," continued Mrs. Sopley.
+"Now, Weejee, look Weejee--here, good dog--look! look
+now (sometimes Weejee simply won't do what one wants),
+here, Weejee; now, good dog!"
+
+Weejee had his tail sideways between his legs and was
+moving towards me again.
+
+"Hold on," said Sopley in a stern tone, "let me throw
+him in."
+
+"Do be careful, Charles," said his wife.
+
+Sopley picked Weejee up by the collar and carried him to
+the edge of the water--it was about six inches deep,--and
+threw him in,--with much the same force as, let us say,
+a pen is thrown into ink or a brush dipped into a pot of
+varnish.
+
+"That's enough; that's quite enough, Charles," exclaimed
+Mrs. Sopley. "I think he'd better not swim. The water in
+the evening is always a little cold. Good dog, good
+doggie, good Weejee!"
+
+Meantime "good Weejee" had come out of the water and was
+moving again towards me.
+
+"He goes straight to you," said my hostess.  "I think he
+must have taken a fancy to you."
+
+He had.
+
+To prove it, Weejee gave himself a rotary whirl like a
+twirled mop.
+
+"Oh, I'm SO sorry," said Mrs. Sopley. "I am. He's wetted
+you. Weejee, lie down, down, sir, good dog, bad dog, lie
+down!"
+
+"It's all right," I said. "I've another white suit in my
+valise."
+
+"But you must be wet through," said Mrs.  Sopley. "Perhaps
+we'd better go in. It's getting late, anyway, isn't it?"
+And then she added to her husband, "I don't think Weejee
+ought to sit out here now that he's wet."
+
+So we went in.
+
+"I think you'll find everything you need," said Sopley,
+as he showed me to my room, "and, by the way, don't mind
+if Weejee comes into your room at night. We like to let
+him run all over the house and he often sleeps on this
+bed."
+
+"All right," I said cheerfully, "I'll look after him."
+
+That night Weejee came.
+
+And when it was far on in the dead of night--so that even
+the lake and the trees were hushed in sleep, I took Weejee
+out and--but there is no need to give the details of it.
+
+And the Sopleys are still wondering where Weejee has gone
+to, and waiting for him to come back, because he is so
+clever at finding his way.
+
+But from where Weejee is, no one finds his way back.
+
+
+
+XIV.--Sidelights on the Supermen. An Interview with
+General Bernhardi.
+
+He came into my room in that modest, Prussian way that
+he has, clicking his heels together, his head very erect,
+his neck tightly gripped in his forty-two centimeter
+collar. He had on a Pickelhaube, or Prussian helmet,
+which he removed with a sweeping gesture and laid on the
+sofa.
+
+So I knew at once that it was General Bernhardi.
+
+In spite of his age he looked--I am bound to admit it--a
+fine figure of a man. There was a splendid fullness about
+his chest and shoulders, and a suggestion of rugged power
+all over him. I had not heard him on the stairs.  He
+seemed to appear suddenly beside me.
+
+"How did you get past the janitor?" I asked.  For it was
+late at night, and my room at college is three flights
+up the stairs.
+
+"The janitor," he answered carelessly, "I killed him."
+
+I gave a gasp.
+
+"His resistance," the general went on, "was very slight.
+Apparently in this country your janitors are unarmed."
+
+"You killed him?" I asked.
+
+"We Prussians," said Bernhardi, "when we wish an immediate
+access anywhere, always kill the janitor. It is quicker:
+and it makes for efficiency. It impresses them with a
+sense of our Furchtbarkeit. You have no word for that in
+English, I believe?"
+
+"Not outside of a livery stable," I answered.
+
+There was a pause. I was thinking of the janitor. It
+seemed in a sort of way--I admit that I have a sentimental
+streak in me--a deplorable thing.
+
+"Sit down," I said presently.
+
+"Thank you," answered the General, but remained standing.
+
+"All right," I said, "do it."
+
+"Thank you," he repeated, without moving.
+
+"I forgot," I said. "Perhaps you CAN'T sit down."
+
+"Not very well," he answered; "in fact, we Prussian
+officers"--here he drew himself up higher still--"never
+sit down. Our uniforms do not permit of it. This inspires
+us with a kind of Rastlosigkeit." Here his eyes glittered.
+
+"It must," I said.
+
+"In fact, with an Unsittlichkeit--an Unverschamtheit--with
+an Ein-fur-alle-mal-un-dur-chaus--"
+
+"Exactly," I said, for I saw that he was getting excited,
+"but pray tell me, General, to what do I owe the honour
+of this visit?"
+
+The General's manner changed at once.
+
+"Highly learned, and high-well-born-professor," he said,
+"I come to you as to a fellow author, known and honoured
+not merely in England, for that is nothing, but in Germany
+herself, and in Turkey, the very home of Culture."
+
+I knew that it was mere flattery. I knew that in this
+same way Lord Haldane had been so captivated as to come
+out of the Emperor's presence unable to say anything but
+"Sittlichkeit" for weeks; that good old John Burns had
+been betrayed by a single dinner at Potsdam, and that
+the Sultan of Turkey had been told that his Answers to
+Ultimatums were the wittiest things written since Kant's
+Critique of Pure Reason. Yet I was pleased in spite of
+myself.
+
+"What!" I exclaimed, "they know my works of humour in
+Germany?"
+
+"Do they know them?" said the General.  "Ach! Himmel!
+How they laugh. That work of yours (I think I see it on
+the shelf behind you), The Elements of Political Science,
+how the Kaiser has laughed over it! And the Crown Prince!
+It nearly killed him!"
+
+"I will send him the new edition," I said.  "But tell
+me, General, what is it that you want of me?"
+
+"It is about my own book," he answered.  "You have read
+it?"
+
+I pointed to a copy of Germany and the Next War, in its
+glaring yellow cover--the very hue of Furchtbarkeit--lying
+on the table.
+
+"You have read it? You have really read it?" asked the
+General with great animation.
+
+"No," I said, "I won't go so far as to say that. But I
+have TRIED to read it. And I talk about it as if I had
+read it."
+
+The General's face fell.
+
+"You are as the others," he said, "They buy the book,
+they lay it on the table, they talk of it at dinner,--they
+say 'Bernhardi has prophesied this, Bernhardi foresaw
+that,' but read it,--nevermore."
+
+"Still," I said, "you get the royalties."
+
+"They are cut off. The perfidious British Government will
+not allow the treacherous publisher to pay them. But that
+is not my complaint."
+
+"What is the matter, then?" I asked.
+
+"My book is misunderstood. You English readers have failed
+to grasp its intention. It is not meant as a book of
+strategy. It is what you call a work of humour. The book
+is to laugh. It is one big joke."
+
+"You don't say so!" I said in astonishment.
+
+"Assuredly," answered the General. "Here"--and with this
+he laid hold of the copy of the book before me and began
+rapidly turning over the leaves--"let me set it out
+asunder for you, the humour of it. Listen, though, to
+this, where I speak of Germany's historical mission on
+page 73,--'No nation on the face of the globe is so able
+to grasp and appropriate all the elements of culture as
+Germany is?' What do you say to that? Is it not a joke?
+Ach, Himmel, how our officers have laughed over that in
+Belgium!  With their booted feet on the mantelpiece as
+they read and with bottles of appropriated champagne
+beside them as they laugh."
+
+"You are right, General," I said, "you will forgive my
+not laughing out loud, but you are a great humorist."
+
+"Am I not? And listen further still, how I deal with the
+theme of the German character,--'Moral obligations such
+as no nation had ever yet made the standard of conduct,
+are laid down by the German philosophers.'"
+
+"Good," I said, "gloriously funny; read me some more."
+
+"This, then, you will like,--here I deal with the
+permissible rules of war. It is on page 236 that I am
+reading it. I wrote this chiefly to make laugh our naval
+men and our Zeppelin crews,--'A surprise attack, in order
+to be justified, must be made only on the armed forces
+of the state and not on its peaceful inhabitants.
+Otherwise the attack becomes a treacherous crime.' Eh,
+what?"
+
+Here the General broke into roars of laughter.
+
+"Wonderful," I said. "Your book ought to sell well in
+Scarborough and in Yarmouth.  Read some more."
+
+"I should like to read you what I say about neutrality,
+and how England is certain to violate our strategical
+right by an attack on Belgium and about the sharp measures
+that ought to be taken against neutral ships laden with
+contraband,--the passages are in Chapters VII and VIII,
+but for the moment I fail to lay the thumb on them."
+
+"Give me the book, General," I said. "Now that I understand
+what you meant by it, I think I can show you also some
+very funny passages in it. These things, for example,
+that you say about Canada and the colonies,--yes, here
+it is, page 148,--'In the event of war the loosely-joined
+British Empire will break into pieces, and the colonies
+will consult their own interests,'--excellently funny,--and
+this again,--'Canada will not permanently retain any
+trace of the English spirit,'--and this too,--'the Colonies
+can be completely ignored so far as the European theatre
+of war is concerned,'--and here again,--'Egypt and South
+Africa will at once revolt and break away from the empire,'
+--really, General, your ideas of the British Colonies
+are superbly funny. Mark Twain wasn't a circumstance on
+you."
+
+"Not at all," said Bernhardi, and his voice reverted to
+his habitual Prussian severity, "these are not jokes.
+They are facts. It is only through the folly of the
+Canadians in not reading my book that they are not more
+widely known. Even as it is they are exactly the views
+of your great leader Heinrich Bauratze--"
+
+"Who?" I said.
+
+"Heinrich Bauratze, your great Canadian leader--"
+
+"Leader of what?"
+
+"That I do not know," said Bernhardi. "Our intelligence
+office has not yet heard what he leads. But as soon as
+he leads anything we shall know it. Meantime we can see
+from his speeches that he has read my book. Ach! if only
+your other leaders in Canada,--Sir Robert Laurier, Sir
+Osler Sifton, Sir Williams Borden,--you smile, you do
+not realize that in Germany we have exact information of
+everything:  all that happens, we know it."
+
+Meantime I had been looking over the leaves of the book.
+
+"Here at least," I said, "is some splendidly humorous
+stuff,--this about the navy. 'The completion of the Kiel
+Canal,' you write in Chapter XII, 'is of great importance
+as it will enable our largest battleships to appear
+unexpectedly in the Baltic and in the North Sea!' Appear
+unexpectedly! If they only would!  How exquisitely
+absurd--"
+
+"Sir!" said the General. "That is not to laugh. You err
+yourself. That is Furchtbarkeit.  I did not say the book
+is all humour.  That would be false art. Part of it is
+humour and part is Furchbarkeit. That passage is specially
+designed to frighten Admiral Jellicoe. And he won't read
+it! Potztausand, he won't read it!"--repeated the general,
+his eyes flashing and his clenched fist striking in the
+air--"What sort of combatants are these of the British
+Navy who refuse to read our war-books? The Kaiser's
+Heligoland speech!  They never read a word of it. The
+Furchtbarkeit-Proklamation of August,--they never looked
+at it. The Reichstags-Rede with the printed picture of
+the Kaiser shaking hands with everybody,--they used it
+to wrap up sandwiches! What are they, then, Jellicoe and
+his men? They sit there in their ships and they read
+nothing! How can we get at them if they refuse to read?
+How can we frighten them away if they haven't culture
+enough to get frightened. Beim Himmel," shouted the
+General in great excitement--
+
+But what more he said can never be known.  For at this
+second a sudden catastrophe happened.
+
+In his frenzy of excitement the General struck with his
+fist at the table, missed it, lost his balance and fell
+over sideways right on the point of his Pickelhaube which
+he had laid on the sofa. There was a sudden sound as of
+the ripping of cloth and the bursting of pneumatic cushions
+and to my amazement the General collapsed on the sofa,
+his uniform suddenly punctured in a dozen places.
+
+"Schnapps," he cried, "fetch brandy."
+
+"Great Heavens! General," I said, "what has happened?"
+
+"My uniform!" he moaned, "it has burst!  Give me Schnapps!"
+
+He seemed to shrink visibly in size. His magnificent
+chest was gone. He was shrivelling into a tattered heap.
+He appeared as he lay there, a very allegory and
+illustration of Prussian Furchtbarkeit with the wind
+going out of it.
+
+"Fetch Schnapps,"--he moaned.
+
+"There are no Schnapps here," I said, "this is McGill
+University."
+
+"Then call the janitor," he said.
+
+"You killed him," I said.
+
+"I didn't. I was lying. I gave him a look that should
+have killed him, but I don't think it did. Rouse yourself
+from your chair, and call him--"
+
+"I will," I said, and started up from my seat.
+
+But as I did so, the form of General Bernhardi, which I
+could have sworn had been lying in a tattered heap on
+the sofa on the other side of the room, seemed suddenly
+to vanish from my eyes.
+
+There was nothing before me but the empty room with the
+fire burned low in the grate, and in front of me an open
+copy of Bernhardi's book.
+
+I must,--like many another reader,--have fallen asleep
+over it.
+
+
+
+XV.--The Survival of the Fittest
+
+A bell tinkled over the door of the little drug store as
+I entered it; which seemed strange in a lighted street
+of a great city.
+
+But the little store itself, dim even in the centre and
+dark in the corners was gloomy enough for a country
+crossroads.
+
+"I have to have the bell," said the man behind the counter,
+reading my thought, "I'm alone here just now."
+
+"A toothbrush?" he said in answer to my question. "Yes,
+I guess I've got some somewhere round here." He was
+stooping under and behind his counter and his voice came
+up from below. "I've got some somewhere--" And then as
+if talking to himself he murmured from behind a pile of
+cardboard boxes, "I saw some Tuesday."
+
+Had I gone across the street to the brilliant premises
+of the Cut Rate Pharmaceutical where they burn electric
+light by the meterfull I should no sooner have said "tooth
+brush," than one of the ten clerks in white hospital
+jackets would have poured a glittering assortment over
+the counter--prophylactic, lactic and every other sort.
+
+But I had turned in, I don't know why, to the little
+store across the way.
+
+"Here, I guess these must be tooth brushes," he said,
+reappearing at the level of the counter with a flat box
+in his hand. They must have been presumably, or have once
+been,--at some time long ago.
+
+"They're tooth brushes all right," he said, and started
+looking over them with an owner's interest.
+
+"What is the price of them?" I asked.
+
+"Well," the man said musingly, "I don't--jest--know. I
+guess it's written on them likely," and he began to look
+at the handles.
+
+Over at the Pharmaceutical across the way the words "what
+price?" would have precipitated a ready avalanche of
+figures.
+
+"This one seems to be seventy-five cents," he said and
+handed me one.
+
+"Is it a good tooth brush?" I asked.
+
+"It ought to be," he said, "you'd think, at that price."
+
+He had no shop talk, no patter whatever.
+
+Then he looked at the brush again, more closely.
+
+"I don't believe it IS seventy-five," he muttered, "I
+think it must be fifteen, don't you?"
+
+I took it from his hand and looked and said,--for it is
+well to take an occasional step towards the Kingdom of
+Heaven,--that I was certain it was seventy-five.
+
+"Well," said the man, "perhaps it is, my sight is not so
+good now. I've had too much to do here and the work's
+been using me up some."
+
+I noticed now as he said this how frail he looked as he
+bent over his counter wrapping up the tooth brush.
+
+"I've no sealing wax," he said, "or not handy."
+
+"That doesn't matter," I answered, "just put it in the
+paper."
+
+Over the way of course the tooth brush would have been
+done up almost instantaneously, in white enamel paper,
+sealed at the end and stamped with a label, as fast as
+the money paid for it went rattling along an automatic
+carrier to a cashier.
+
+"You've been very busy, eh?" I asked.
+
+"Well, not so much with customers," he said, "but with
+fixing up the place,"--here he glanced about him. Heaven
+only knows what he had fixed. There were no visible signs
+of it.
+
+"You see I've only been in here a couple of months. It
+was a pretty tough looking place when I came to it. But
+I've been getting things fixed. First thing I did I put
+those two carboys in the window with the lights behind
+them.  They show up fine, don't they?"
+
+"Fine!" I repeated; so fine indeed that the dim yellow
+light in them reached three or four feet from the jar.
+But for the streaming light from the great store across
+the street, the windows of the little shop would have
+been invisible.
+
+"It's a good location here," he said. Any one could have
+told him that it was the worst location within two miles.
+
+"I'll get it going presently," he went on.  "Of course
+it's uphill just at first. Being such a good location
+the rent is high. The first two weeks I was here I was
+losing five dollars a day. But I got those lights in the
+window and got the stock overhauled a little to make it
+attractive and last month I reckon I was only losing
+three dollars a day."
+
+"That's better," I said.
+
+"Oh, yes," he went on, and there was a clear glint of
+purpose in his eye that contrasted with his sunken cheeks.
+"I'll get it going. This last two weeks I'm not losing
+more than say two and a half a day or something like
+that? The custom is bound to come. You get a place fixed
+up and made attractive like this and people are sure to
+come sooner or later."
+
+What it was that was fixed up, and wherein lay the
+attractiveness I do not know. It could not be seen with
+the outward eye. Perhaps after two months' work of piling
+dusty boxes now this way, now that, and putting little
+candles behind the yellow carboys to try the effect, some
+inward vision came that lighted the place up with an
+attractiveness wanting even in the glass and marble
+glitter of the Pharmacy across the way.
+
+"Yes, sir," continued the man, "I mean to stay with it.
+I'll get things into shape here, fix it up a little more
+and soon I'll have it,"--here his face radiated with a
+vision of hope--"so that I won't lose a single cent."
+
+I looked at him in surprise. So humble an ambition it
+had never been my lot to encounter.
+
+"All that bothers me," he went on, "is my health. It's
+a nice business the drug business:  I like it, but it
+takes it out of you. You've got to be alert and keen all
+the time; thinking out plans to please the custom when
+it comes.  Often I don't sleep well nights for the rush
+of it."
+
+I looked about the little shop, as gloomy and sleepful
+as the mausoleum of an eastern king, and wondered by what
+alchemy of the mind the little druggist found it a very
+vortex of activity.
+
+"But I can fix my health," he returned--"I may have to
+get some one in here and go away for a spell. Perhaps
+I'll do it. The doctor was saying he thought I might take
+a spell off and think out a few more wrinkles while I'm
+away."
+
+At the word "doctor" I looked at him more warmly, and I
+saw then what was plain enough to see but for the dim
+light of the little place,--the thin flush on the cheek,
+the hopeful mind, the contrast of the will to live and
+the need to die, God's little irony on man, it was all
+there plain enough to read. The "spell" for which the
+little druggist was going is that which is written in
+letters of sorrow over the sunlit desolation of Arizona
+and the mountains of Colorado.
+
+A month went by before I passed that way again. I looked
+across at the little store and I read the story in its
+drawn blinds and the padlock on its door.
+
+The little druggist had gone away for a spell. And they
+told me, on enquiry, that his journey had been no further
+than to the cemetery behind the town where he lies now,
+musing, if he still can, on the law of the survival of
+the fittest in this well-adjusted world.
+
+And they say that the shock of the addition of his whole
+business to the great Pharmacy across the way scarcely
+disturbed a soda siphon.
+
+
+
+XVI--The First Newspaper. A Sort of Allegory
+
+How likes it you, Master Brenton?" said the brawny
+journeyman, spreading out the news sheet on a smooth
+oaken table where it lay under the light of a leaded
+window.
+
+"A marvellous fair sheet," murmured Brenton Caxton,
+seventh of the name, "let me but adjust my glasses and
+peruse it further lest haply there be still aught in it
+that smacks of error."
+
+"It needs not," said the journeyman, "'tis the fourth
+time already from the press."
+
+"Nay, nay," answered Master Brenton softly, as he adjusted
+his great horn-rimmed spectacles and bent his head over
+the broad damp news sheet before him. "Let us grudge no
+care in this. The venture is a new one and, meseems, a
+very parlous thing withal. 'Tis a venture that may easily
+fail and carry down our fortunes with it, but at least
+let it not be said that it failed for want of brains in
+the doing."
+
+"Fail quotha!" said a third man, who had not yet spoken,
+old, tall and sour of visage and wearing a printer's
+leather apron. He had moved over from the further side
+of the room where a little group of apprentices stood
+beside the wooden presses that occupied the corner, and
+he was looking over the shoulder of Master Brenton Caxton.
+
+"How can it do aught else? 'Tis a mad folly. Mark you,
+Master Brenton and Master Nick, I have said it from the
+first and let the blame be none of mine. 'Tis a mad thing
+you do here. See then," he went on, turning and waving
+his hand, "this vast room, these great presses, yonder
+benches and tools, all new, yonder vats of ink straight
+out of Flanders, how think you you can recover the cost
+of all this out of yonder poor sheets? Five and forty
+years have I followed this mystery of printing, ever
+since thy grandfather's day, Master Brenton, and never
+have I seen the like. What needed this great chamber when
+your grandfather and father were content with but a garret
+place, and yonder presses that can turn off four score
+copies in the compass of a single hour,--'Tis mad folly,
+I say."
+
+The moment was an interesting one. The speakers were in
+a great room with a tall ceiling traversed by blackened
+beams. From the street below there came dimly through
+the closed casements the sound of rumbling traffic and
+the street cries of the London of the seventeenth century.
+Two vast presses of such colossal size that their wooden
+levers would tax the strength of the stoutest apprentice,
+were ranged against the further wall. About the room,
+spread out on oaken chairs and wooden benches, were flat
+boxes filled with leaden type, freshly molten, and a
+great pile of paper, larger than a man could lift, stood
+in a corner.
+
+The first English newspaper in history was going to press.
+Those who in later ages,--editors, printers, and
+workers--have participated in the same scene, can form
+some idea of the hopes and fears, the doubts and the
+difficulties, with which the first newspaper was ushered
+into the world.
+
+Master Brenton Caxton turned upon the last speaker the
+undisturbed look of the eye that sees far across the
+present into the years to come.
+
+"Nay, Edward," he said, "you have laboured over much in
+the past and see not into the future. You think this
+chamber too great for our purpose? I tell you the time
+will come when not this room alone but three or four such
+will be needed for our task. Already I have it in my mind
+that I will divide even this room into portions, with
+walls shrewdly placed through its length and breadth, so
+that each that worketh shall sit as it were in his own
+chamber and there shall stand one at the door and whosoever
+cometh, to whatever part of our task his business
+appertains, he shall forthwith be brought to the room of
+him that hath charge of it. Cometh he with a madrigal or
+other light poesy that he would set out on the press, he
+shall find one that has charge of such matters and can
+discern their true value. Or, cometh he with news of
+aught that happens in the realm, so shall he be brought
+instant to the room of him that recordeth such events.
+Or, if so be, he would write a discourse on what seemeth
+him some wise conceit touching the public concerns, he
+shall find to his hand a convenient desk with ink and
+quills and all that he needeth to set it straightway on
+paper; thus shall there be a great abundance of written
+matter to our hand so that not many days shall elapse
+after one of our news sheets goes abroad before there be
+matter enough to fill another."
+
+"Days!" said the aged printer, "think you you can fill
+one of these news sheets in a few days! Where indeed if
+you search the whole realm will you find talk enough in
+a single week to fill out this great sheet half an ell
+wide!"
+
+"Ay, days indeed!" broke in Master Nicholas, the younger
+journeyman. "Master Brenton speaks truth, or less than
+truth. For not days indeed, but in the compass of a single
+day, I warrant you, shall we find the matter withal."
+Master Nicholas spoke with the same enthusiasm as his
+chief, but with less of the dreamer in his voice and eye,
+and with more swift eagerness of the practical man.
+
+"Fill it, indeed," he went on. "Why, Gad Zooks! man! who
+knoweth what happenings there are and what not till one
+essays the gathering of them! And should it chance that
+there is nothing of greater import, no boar hunt of his
+Majesty to record, nor the news of some great entertainment
+by one of the Lords of the Court, then will we put in
+lesser matter, aye whatever comes to hand, the talk of
+his Majesty's burgesses in the Parliament or any such
+things."
+
+"Hear him!" sneered the printer, "the talk of his Majesty's
+burgesses in Westminster, forsooth! And what clerk or
+learned person would care to read of such? Or think you
+that His Majesty's Chamberlain would long bear that such
+idle chatter should be bruited abroad.  If you can find
+no worthier thing for this our news sheet than the talk
+of the Burgesses, then shall it fail indeed. Had it been
+the speech of the King's great barons and the bishops
+'twere different. But dost fancy that the great barons
+would allow that their weighty discourses be reduced to
+common speech so that even the vulgar may read it and
+haply here and there fathom their very thought itself,--and
+the bishops, the great prelates, to submit their ideas
+to the vulgar hand of a common printer, framing them into
+mere sentences! 'Tis unthinkable that they would sanction
+it!"
+
+"Aye," murmured Caxton in his dreaming voice, "the time
+shall come, Master Edward, when they will not only sanction
+it but seek it."
+
+"Look you," broke in Master Nick, "let us have done with
+this talk? Whether there be enough happenings or not
+enough,"--and here he spoke with a kindling eye and looked
+about him at the little group of apprentices and printers,
+who had drawn near to listen, "if there be not enough,
+then will I MAKE THINGS HAPPEN.  What is easier than to
+tell of happenings forth of the realm of which no man
+can know,--some talk of the Grand Turk and the war that
+he makes, or some happenings in the New Land found by
+Master Columbus. Aye," he went on, warming to his words
+and not knowing that he embodied in himself the first
+birth on earth of the telegraphic editor,--"and why not.
+One day we write it out on our sheet 'The Grand Turk
+maketh disastrous war on the Bulgars of the North and
+hath burnt divers of their villages.' And that hath no
+sooner gone forth than we print another sheet saying,
+'It would seem that the villages be not burnt but only
+scorched, nor doth it appear that the Turk burnt them
+but that the Bulgars burnt divers villages of the Turk
+and are sitting now in his mosque in the city of Hadrian.'
+Then shall all men run to and fro and read the sheet and
+question and ask, 'Is it thus?' And, 'Is it thus?' and
+by very uncertainty of circumstances, they shall demand
+the more curiously to see the news sheet and read it."
+
+"Nay, nay, Master Nick," said Brenton, firmly, "that will
+I never allow. Let us make it to ourselves a maxim that
+all that shall be said in this news sheet, or 'news
+paper,' as my conceit would fain call it, for be it not
+made of paper (here a merry laugh of the apprentices
+greeted the quaint fancy of the Master), shall be of
+ascertained verity and fact indisputable.  Should the
+Grand Turk make war and should the rumour of it come to
+these isles, then will we say 'The Turk maketh war,' and
+should the Turk be at peace, then we will say 'The Turk
+it doth appear is now at peace.' And should no news come,
+then shall we say 'In good sooth we know not whether the
+Turk destroyeth the Bulgars or whether he doth not, for
+while some hold that he harasseth them sorely, others
+have it that he harasseth them not, whereby we are sore
+put to it to know whether there be war or peace, nor do
+we desire to vex the patience of those who read by any
+further discourse on the matter, other than to say that
+we ourselves are in doubt what be and what be not truth,
+nor will we any further speak of it other than this.'"
+
+Those about Caxton listened with awe to this speech. They
+did not,--they could not know,--that this was the birth
+of the Leading Article, but there was something in the
+strangely fascinating way in which their chief enlarged
+upon his own ignorance that foreshowed to the meanest
+intelligence the possibilities of the future.
+
+Nicholas shook his head.
+
+"'Tis a poor plan, Master Brenton," he said, "the folk
+wish news, give them the news. The more thou givest them,
+the better pleased they are and thus doth the news sheet
+move from hand to hand till it may be said (if I too may
+coin a phrase) to increase vastly its 'circulation'--"
+
+"In sooth," said Master Brenton, looking at Nicholas with
+a quiet expression that was not exempt from a certain
+slyness, "there I do hold thou art in the wrong, even as
+a matter of craft or policie. For it seems to me that if
+our paper speaketh first this and then that but hath no
+fixed certainty of truth, sooner or later will all its
+talk seem vain, and no man will heed it. But if it speak
+always the truth, then sooner or later shall all come to
+believe it and say of any happening, 'It standeth written
+in the paper, therefore it is so.' And here I charge you
+all that have any part in this new venture," continued
+Master Brenton, looking about the room at the listening
+faces and speaking with great seriousness, "let us lay
+it to our hearts that our maxim shall be truth and truth
+alone. Let no man set his hand to aught that shall go
+upon our presses save only that which is assured truth.
+In this way shall our venture ever be pleasing to the
+Most High, and I do verily believe,"--and here Caxton's
+voice sank lower as if he were thinking aloud,--"in the
+long run, it will be mighty good for our circulation."
+
+The speaker paused. Then turning to the broad sheet before
+him, he began to scan its columns with his eye. The others
+stood watching him as he read.
+
+"What is this, Master Edward," he queried presently,
+"here I see in this first induct, or column, as one names
+it, the word King fairly and truly spelled. Lower down
+it standeth Kyng, and yet further in the second induct
+Kynge, and in the last induct where there is talk of His
+Majesty's marvelous skill in the French game of palm or
+tennis, lo the word stands Quhyngge! How sayeth thou?"
+
+"Wouldst have it written always in but one and the same
+way?" asked the printer in astonishment.
+
+"Aye, truly," said Caxton.
+
+"With never any choice, or variation to suit the fancy
+of him who reads so that he who likes it written King
+may see it so, and yet also he who would prefer it written
+in a freer style, or Quhyngge, may also find it so and
+thus both be pleased."
+
+"That will I never have!" said Master Brenton firmly,
+"dost not remember, friend, the old tale in the fabula
+of Aesopus of him who would please all men. Here will I
+make another maxim for our newspaper. All men we cannot
+please, for in pleasing one belike we run counter to
+another. Let us set our hand to write always without
+fear. Let us seek favour with none. Always in our news
+sheet we will seek to speak dutifully and with all
+reverence of the King his Majesty: let us also speak with
+all respect and commendation of His Majesty's great
+prelates and nobles, for are they not the exalted of the
+land? Also I would have it that we say nothing harsh
+against our wealthy merchants and burgesses, for hath
+not the Lord prospered them in their substances. Yea,
+friends, let us speak ever well of the King, the clergy,
+the nobility and of all persons of wealth and substantial
+holdings. But beyond this"--here Brenton Coxton's eye
+flashed,--"let us speak with utter fearlessness of all
+men. So shall we be, if I may borrow a mighty good word
+from Tacitus his Annals, of a complete independence,
+hanging on to no man. In fact our venture shall be an
+independent newspaper."
+
+The listeners felt an instinctive awe at the words, and
+again a strange prescience of the future made itself felt
+in every mind. Here for the first time in history was
+being laid down that fine, fearless creed that has made
+the independent press what it is.
+
+Meantime Caxton continued to glance his eye over the news
+sheet, murmuring his comments on what he saw,--"Ah! vastly
+fine, Master Nicholas,--this of the sailing of His
+Majesty's ships for Spain,--and this, too, of the Doge
+of Venice, his death, 'tis brave reading and maketh a
+fair discourse. Here also this likes me, 'tis shrewdly
+devised," and here he placed his finger on a particular
+spot on the news sheet,--"here in speaking of the strange
+mishap of my Lord Arundel, thou useth a great S for
+strange, and setteth it in a line all by itself whereby
+the mind of him that reads is suddenly awakened, alarmed
+as it were by a bell in the night. 'Tis good. 'Tis well.
+But mark you, friend Nicholas, try it not too often, nor
+use your great letters too easily. In the case of my Lord
+Arundel, it is seemly, but for a mishap to a lesser
+person, let it stand in a more modest fashion."
+
+There was a pause. Then suddenly Caxton looked up again.
+
+"What manner of tale is this! What strange thing is here!
+In faith, Master Nicholas, whence hast thou so marvelous
+a thing! The whole world must know of it. Harken ye all
+to this!
+
+"'Let all men that be troubled of aches, spavins, rheums,
+boils, maladies of the spleen or humours of the blood,
+come forthwith to the sign of the Red Lantern in East
+Cheap. There shall they find one that hath a marvelous
+remedy for all such ailments, brought with great dangers
+and perils of the journey from a far distant land. This
+wonderous balm shall straightway make the sick to be well
+and the lame to walk. Rubbed on the eye it restoreth
+sight and applied to the ear it reviveth the hearing.
+'Tis the sole invention of Doctor Gustavus Friedman,
+sometime of Gottingen and brought by him hitherwards out
+of the sheer pity of his heart for them that be afflicted,
+nor shall any other fee be asked for it save only such
+a light and tender charge as shall defray the cost of
+Doctor Friedman his coming and going.'"
+
+Caxton paused and gazed at Master Nicholas in wonder.
+"Whence hadst thou this?"
+
+Master Nicholas smiled.
+
+"I had it of a chapman, or travelling doctor, who was
+most urgent that we set it forth straightway on the
+press."
+
+"And is it true?" asked Caxton; "thou hast it of a full
+surety of knowledge?"
+
+Nicholas laughed lightly.
+
+"True or false, I know not," he said, "but the fellow
+was so curious that we should print it that he gave me
+two golden laurels and a new sovereign on the sole
+understanding that we should set it forth in print."
+
+There was deep silence for a moment.
+
+"He PAYETH to have it printed!" said Caxton, deeply
+impressed.
+
+"Aye," said Master Nicholas, "he payeth and will pay
+more. The fellow hath other balms equally potent. All of
+these he would admonish, or shall I say advert, the
+public."
+
+"So," said Caxton, thoughtfully, "he wishes to make, if
+I may borrow a phrase of Albertus Magnus, an advertisement
+of his goods."
+
+"Even so," said Nicholas.
+
+"I see," said the Master, "he payeth us. We advert the
+goods. Forthwith all men buy them. Then hath he more
+money. He payeth us again. We advert the goods more and
+still he payeth us. That would seem to me, friend Nick,
+a mighty good busyness for us."
+
+"So it is," rejoined Nicholas, "and after him others will
+come to advert other wares until belike a large part of
+our news sheet,--who knows? the whole of it, perhaps,
+shall be made up in the merry guise of advertisements."
+
+Caxton sat silent in deep thought.
+
+"But Master Caxton"--cried the voice of a young apprentice,
+a mere child, as he seemed, with fair hair and blue eyes
+filled with the native candour of unsullied youth,--"is
+this tale true!"
+
+"What sayest thou, Warwick?" said the master printer,
+almost sternly.
+
+"Good master, is the tale of the wonderous balm true?"
+
+"Boy," said Caxton, "Master Nicholas, hath even said, we
+know not if it is true."
+
+"But didst thou not charge us," pleaded the boy, "that
+all that went under our hand into the press should be
+truth and truth alone?"
+
+"I did," said Caxton thoughtfully, "but I spoke perhaps
+somewhat in overhaste. I see that we must here distinguish.
+Whether this is true or not we cannot tell. But it is
+PAID FOR, and that lifts it, as who should say, out of
+the domain of truth. The very fact that it is paid for
+giveth it, as it were, a new form of merit, a verity
+altogether its own."
+
+"Ay, ay," said Nicholas, with a twinkle in his shrewd
+eyes, "entirely its own."
+
+"Indeed so," said Caxton, "and here let us make to
+ourselves another and a final maxim of guidance. All
+things that any man will pay for, these we will print,
+whether true or not, for that doth not concern us. But
+if one cometh here with any strange tale of a remedy or
+aught else and wishes us to make advertisement of it and
+hath no money to pay for it, then shall he be cast forth
+out of this officina, or office, if I may call it so,
+neck and crop into the street. Nay, I will have me one
+of great strength ever at the door ready for such castings."
+
+A murmur of approval went round the group.
+
+Caxton would have spoken further but at the moment the
+sound of a bell was heard booming in the street without.
+
+"'Tis the Great Bell," said Caxton, "ringing out the hour
+of noon. Quick, all of you to your task. Lay me the forms
+on the press and speed me the work. We start here a great
+adventure. Mark well the maxims I have given you, and
+God speed our task."
+
+And in another hour or so, the prentice boys of the master
+printer were calling in the streets the sale of the first
+English newspaper.
+
+
+
+XVII--In the Good Time After the War
+
+[Footnote: An extract from a London newspaper of 1916.]
+
+
+HOUSE OF COMMONS REPORT
+
+The Prime Minister in rising said that he thought the
+time had now come when the House might properly turn its
+attention again to domestic affairs. The foreign world
+was so tranquil that there was really nothing of importance
+which need be brought to the attention of the House.
+Members, however, would, perhaps, be glad to learn
+incidentally that a new and more comfortable cage had
+been supplied for the ex-German Emperor, and that the
+ex-Crown Prince was now showing distinct signs of
+intelligence, and was even able to eat quite quietly out
+of his keeper's hand. Members would be gratified to know
+that at last the Hohenzollern family were able to abstain
+from snapping at the hand that fed them. But he would
+now turn to the subject of Home Rule.
+
+Here the House was seen to yawn noticeably, and a general
+lack of interest was visible, especially among the
+Nationalist and Ulster members. A number of members were
+seen to rise as if about to move to the refreshment-
+room. Mr. John Redmond and Sir Edward Carson were seen
+walking arm in arm towards the door.
+
+The Prime Minister. "Will the members kindly keep their
+seats? We are about to hold a discussion on Home Rule.
+Members will surely recall that this form of discussion
+was one of our favourite exercises only a year or so ago.
+I trust that members have not lost interest in the
+subject." (General laughter among the members, and cries
+of "Cut it out!" "What is it?")
+
+The Prime Minister (with some asperity).  "Members are
+well aware what Home Rule meant. It was a plan--or rather
+it was a scheme--that is to say, it was an act of
+parliament, or I should say a bill, in fact, Mr. Speaker,
+I don't mind confessing that, not having my papers with
+me, I am unable to inform the House just what Home Rule
+was. I think, perhaps, the Ex-Minister of Munitions has
+a copy of last year's bill."
+
+Mr. Lloyd George rising, with evident signs of boredom.
+"The House will excuse me. I am tired. I have been out
+all day aeroplaning with Mr. Churchill and Mr. Bonar Law,
+with a view to inspect the new national training camp.
+I had the Home Rule Bill with me along with the Welsh
+Disestablishment Bill and the Land Bill, and I am afraid
+that I lost the whole bally lot of them; dropped them
+into the sea or something. I hope the Speaker will overlook
+the term 'bally.' It may not be parliamentary."
+
+Mr. Speaker (laughing). "Tut, tut, never mind a little
+thing like that. I am sure that after all that we have
+gone through together, the House is quite agreed that a
+little thing like parliamentary procedure doesn't matter."
+
+Mr. Lloyd George (humbly). "Still I am sorry for the
+term. I'd like to withdraw it. I separate or distinguish
+in any degree the men of Ulster from the men of Tipperary,
+and the heart of Belfast from the heart of Dublin." (Loud
+cheers.)
+
+Mr. Redmond (springing forward). "And I'll say this: Not
+I, nor any man of Ireland, Dublin, Belfast, or Connaught
+will ever set our hands or names to any bill that shall
+separate Ireland in any degree from the rest of the
+Empire. Work out, if you like, a new scheme of government.
+If the financial clauses are intricate, get one of your
+treasury clerks to solve them. If there's trouble in
+arranging your excise on your customs, settle it in any
+way you please. But it is too late now to separate England
+and Ireland. We've held the flag of the Empire in our
+hand. We mean to hold it in our grasp forever. We have
+seen its colours tinged a brighter red with the best of
+Ireland's blood, and that proud stain shall stay forever
+as the symbol of the unity of Irish and the English
+people."
+
+(Loud cheers ring through the House; several members rise
+in great excitement, all shouting and speaking together.)
+There is heard the voice of Mr. Angus McCluskey, Member
+for the Hebrides, calling--"And ye'll no forget Scotland,
+me lad, when you talk of unity! Do you mind the
+Forty-Second, and the London Scottish in the trenches of
+the Aisne? Wha carried the flag of the Empire then? Unity,
+ma friends, ye'll never break it. It may involve a wee
+bit sacrifice for Scotland financially speaking. I'll no
+say no to a reveesion of the monetairy terms, if ye
+suggest it,--but for unita--Scotland and the Empire, now
+and forever!"
+
+A great number of members have risen in their seats. Mr.
+Open Ap Owen Glendower is calling: "Aye and Wales! never
+forget Wales." Mr. Trevelyan Trendinning of Cornwall has
+started singing "And shall Trelawney Die?"--while the
+deep booming of "Rule Britannia" from five hundred throats
+ascends to the very rafters of the House.
+
+The Speaker laughing and calling for order, while two of
+the more elderly clerks are beating with the mace on the
+table,--"Gentlemen, gentlemen, I have a proposal to make.
+I have just learned that there is at the Alhambra in
+Leicester Square, a real fine moving picture show of the
+entrance of the Allies into Berlin.  Let's all go to it.
+We can leave a committee of the three youngest members
+to stay behind and draw up a new government for Ireland.
+Even they can't go wrong now as to what we want."
+
+Loud Cheers as the House empties, singing "It was a Long
+Way to Tipperary, but the way lay through Berlin."
+
+
+
+
+
+End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Moonbeams From the Larger Lunacy
+by Stephen Leacock
+
diff --git a/old/4064.zip b/old/4064.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..eb71796
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/4064.zip