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authorRoger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>2025-10-15 04:54:30 -0700
committerRoger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>2025-10-15 04:54:30 -0700
commit281c01155d86191fb961923e76b2d1a556a07d22 (patch)
tree1ecf3e38ed97faa11a0d280c2d0a5d2b83a40eca /18934-h
initial commit of ebook 18934HEADmain
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+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en">
+<head>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" />
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" />
+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of My Lady Nicotine, by J. M. Barrie</title>
+
+<style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+body { margin-left: 20%;
+ margin-right: 20%;
+ text-align: justify; }
+p {text-indent: 1em;
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+ hr { width: 50%; text-align:center; }
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+ img { border: none; padding: 0; }
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+ <body>
+
+<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of My Lady Nicotine, by J. M. Barrie</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
+at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
+are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the
+country where you are located before using this eBook.
+</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: My Lady Nicotine<br />
+  A Study in Smoke</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: J. M. Barrie</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Illustrator: M. B. Prendergast</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: July 29, 2006 [eBook #18934]<br />
+[Most recently updated: October 17, 2021]</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Ted Garvin, David Garcia and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team</div>
+<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY LADY NICOTINE ***</div>
+
+ <p>
+ &nbsp; <span class="pagenum"><a id="pagei" name="pagei"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-halftitle" id="image-halftitle">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/halftitle.png" style="width:500px;height:873px;"
+ alt="Half-Title" />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ &nbsp; <span class="pagenum"><a id="pageii" name="pageii"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &nbsp; <span class="pagenum"><a id="pageiii" name="pageiii"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &nbsp; <span class="pagenum"><a id="pageiv" name="pageiv"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-frontis" id="image-frontis">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/frontis.jpg" style="width:500px; height:798px;"
+ alt="Frontispiece" />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="pagev" name="pagev"></a></span> <a
+ name="h2H_4_0001" id="h2H_4_0001">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <div style="border: .75em double black; ">
+ <h1 style="border-width: .25em; border-color: black; border-style: none none double none; padding-bottom:1em; line-height: 2em;">
+ MY LADY<br /> NICOTINE
+ </h1>
+ <h2>
+ A Study in Smoke
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ BY J. M. BARRIE <br />&nbsp;<br /> <span style="font-size: 80%!important;">
+ AUTHOR OF "SENTIMENTAL TOMMY," ETC. </span>
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ &nbsp;
+ </p>
+ <h4>
+ <i>ILLUSTRATED BY</i><br /> M. B. PRENDERGAST
+ </h4>
+ <hr />
+ <p style="font-size: 70%; text-indent: 0; text-align: center;">
+ <br />&nbsp;<br /> BOSTON <br /> KNIGHT AND MILLET <br /> PUBLISHERS
+ </p>
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2H_4_0002" id="h2H_4_0002">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ &nbsp; <span class="pagenum"><a id="pagevi" name="pagevi"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &nbsp; <span class="pagenum"><a id="pagevii" name="pagevii"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <h2>
+ CONTENTS
+ </h2>
+ <table style="width:500px;" summary="Table of Contents">
+ <tr>
+ <td colspan="3">
+ <div class="figure">
+ <a name="image-cont-h" id="image-cont-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/contents-h.png"
+ style="width:500px; height: 479px;"
+ alt="Headpiece to Table of Contents" />
+ </div>
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class="sc" style="text-align: right;">
+ chap.
+ </td>
+ <td></td>
+ <td class="sc" style="text-align: right;">
+ page
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ I.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0001" class="sc">Matrimony and Smoking compared</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 1
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ II.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0002" class="sc">My First Cigar</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 11
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ III.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0003" class="sc">The Arcadia Mixture</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 18
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ IV.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0004" class="sc">My Pipes</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 27
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ V.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0005" class="sc">My Tobacco-Pouch</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 38
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ VI.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0006" class="sc">My Smoking-Table</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 45
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ VII.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0007" class="sc">Gilray</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 52
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ VIII.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0008" class="sc">Marriot</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 60
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ IX.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0009" class="sc">Jimmy</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 70
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="pageviii" name="pageviii"></a></span>
+ X.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0010" class="sc">Scrymgeour</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 78
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ XI.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0011" class="sc">His Wife's Cigars</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 87
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ XII.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0012" class="sc">Gilray's Flower-Pot</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 94
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ XIII.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0013" class="sc">The Grandest Scene in History</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 103
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ XIV.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0014" class="sc">My Brother Henry</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 116
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ XV.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0015" class="sc">House-Boat "Arcadia"</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 124
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ XVI.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0016" class="sc">The Arcadia Mixture Again</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 133
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ XVII.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0017" class="sc">The Romance of a Pipe-Cleaner</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 143
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ XXVIII.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0018" class="sc">What could he do?</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 151
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ XIX.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0019" class="sc">Primus</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 159
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ XX.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0020" class="sc">Primus to his Uncle</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 168
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ XXI.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0021" class="sc">English-grown Tobacco</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 177
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ XXII.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0022" class="sc">How Heroes smoke</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 186
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ XXIII.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0023" class="sc">The Ghost of Christmas Eve</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 194
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ XXIV.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0024" class="sc">Not the Arcadia</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 202
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ XXV.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0025" class="sc">A Face that haunted Marriot</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 209
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ XXVI.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0026" class="sc">Arcadians at Bay</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 216
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ XXVII.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0027" class="sc">Jimmy's Dream</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 223
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ XXVIII.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0028" class="sc">Gilray's Dream</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 231
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ XXIX.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0029" class="sc">Pettigrew's Dream</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 239
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ XXX.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0030" class="sc">The Murder in the Inn</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 247
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ XXXI.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0031" class="sc">The Perils of not Smoking</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 252
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ XXXII.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0032" class="sc">My Last Pipe</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 260
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ XXXIII.
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <a href="#h2HCH0033" class="sc">When my Wife is Asleep and all the
+ House is Still</a>
+ </td>
+ <td style="text-align: right;">
+ 269
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td colspan="3">
+ <a name="image-cont-t" id="image-cont-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/contents-t.png" style="width:400px; height: 220px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece to Table of Contents" />
+ </div>
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ </table>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="pageix" name="pageix"></a></span> <a
+ name="h2H_ILL" id="h2H_ILL">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Illustrations
+ </h2>
+ <div style="width:500px!important; margin: auto;">
+ <a name="image-illu-h" id="image-illu-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/illust-ha.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:both;width:500px; height:78px; margin-right:1em;"
+ alt="Headpiece to List of Illustrations" /> <img src="images/illust-hb.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:169px;height:734px; margin-right:1em;"
+ alt="Headpiece to List of Illustrations" />
+ <!-- <div style="padding:0;padding:100px 0 0 0;; text-indent:0;"></div> -->
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-halftitle">Half-Title </a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ i
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-frontis">Frontispiece</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ iv
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#h2H_4_0001">Title-Page </a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ v
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-cont-h">Headpiece to Table of Contents </a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ vii
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-cont-t">Tailpiece to Table of Contents </a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ viii
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-illu-h">Headpiece to List of Illustrations</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ ix
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-illu-t">Tailpiece to List of Illustrations</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ xiii
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch01-h">Headpiece to Chap. I.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 1
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch01-1">"As well as a spring bonnet and a nice dress"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 6
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch01-2">"There are the Japanese fans on the wall"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 7
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch01-t">Tailpiece Chap. I. "My wife puts her hand on
+ my shoulder"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 10
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch02-h">Headpiece Chap. II.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 11
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch02-1">"At last he jumped up"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 14
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch02-2">Box of cigars</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 15
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch02-t">Tailpiece Chap. II. "I firmly lighted my first
+ cigar"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 17
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch03-h">Headpiece Chap. III. "Jimmy pins a notice on
+ his door"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 18
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch03-1">"We are only to be distinguished by our pipes"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 20
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch03-2">The Arcadia Mixture</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 21
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch03-t">Tailpiece Chap. III.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 26
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch04-h">Headpiece Chap. IV. "Oh, see what I have done"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 27
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch04-1">"I fell in love with two little meerschaums"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 33
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch04-2">Pipes and pouch</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 36
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch04-t">Tailpiece Chap. IV.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 37
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch05-h">Headpiece Chap. V. "They ... made tongs of
+ their knitting-needles to lift it"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 38
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch05-1">"I ... cast my old pouch out at the window"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 40, 41
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch05-2">"It never quite recovered from its night in
+ the rain"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 43
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch05-t">Tailpiece Chap. V.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 44
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch06-h">Headpiece Chap VI. "My Smoking-Table"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 45
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch06-1">"Sometimes I had knocked it over accidentally"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 48
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch06-t">Tailpiece Chap. VI.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 51
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch07-h">Headpiece Chap. VII. "We met first in the
+ Merediths' house-boat"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 52
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch07-1">"He 'strode away blowing great clouds into the
+ air,'"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 57
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch07-t">Tailpiece Chap. VII. "The Arcadia had him for
+ its own"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 59
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch08-h">Headpiece Chap. VIII. "I let him talk on"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 60
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch08-1">Pipes and jar of spills</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 62, 63
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch08-7">Tray of pipes and cigars</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 64
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch08-8">"I would ... light him to his sleeping-chamber
+ with a spill"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 68
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch08-t">Tailpiece Chap. VIII.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 69
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch09-h">Headpiece Chap. IX. "The stem was a long
+ cherry-wood"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 70
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch09-1">"In time ... the Arcadia Mixture made him more
+ and more like the rest of us"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 71
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch09-2">"A score of smaller letters were tumbling
+ about my feet"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 74
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch09-t">Tailpiece Chap. IX. "Mothers' pets"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 77
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch10-h">Headpiece Chap. X. "Scrymgeour was an artist"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 78
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch10-1">"With shadowy reptiles crawling across the
+ panels"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 81
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch10-2">"Scrymgeour sprang like an acrobat into a
+ Japanese dressing-gown"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 84
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch10-t">Tailpiece Chap. X.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 86
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch11-h">Headpiece Chap. XI. "His wife's cigars"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 87
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch11-1">"A packet of Celebros alighted on my head"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 88
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch11-2">"I told her the cigars were excellent"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 90
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch11-t">Tailpiece Chap. XI.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 93
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch12-h">Headpiece Chap. XII. "Gilray's flower-pot"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 94
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch12-1">"Then Arcadians would drop in"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 97
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch12-2">"I wrote to him"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 99
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch12-t">Tailpiece Chap. XII. "The can nearly fell from
+ my hand"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 102
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch13-h">Headpiece Chap. XIII.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 103
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch13-1">"Raleigh ... introduced tobacco into this
+ country"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 105
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch13-2">The Arcadia Mixture</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 111
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch13-3">"Ned Alleyn goes from tavern to tavern picking
+ out his men"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 113
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch13-t">Tailpiece Chap. XIII.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 115
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch14-h">Headpiece Chap. XIV. "I was testing some new
+ Cabanas"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 116
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch14-1">"A few weeks later some one tapped me on the
+ shoulder"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 118
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch14-2">"Naturally in the circumstances you did not
+ want to talk about Henry"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 120
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch14-t">Tailpiece Chap. XIV.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 123
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch15-h">Headpiece Chap. XV. "House-boat Arcadia"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 124
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch15-1">"I caught my straw hat disappearing on the
+ wings of the wind"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 126
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch15-2">"It was the boy come back with the vegetables"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 129
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch15-t">Tailpiece Chap. XV. "There was a row all
+ round, which resulted in our division into five parties"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 132
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch16-h">Headpiece Chap. XVI. "The Arcadia Mixture
+ again"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 133
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch16-1">"On the open window ... stood a round tin of
+ tobacco"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 135
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch16-2">"A pipe of the Mixture"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 138
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch16-3">"The lady was making pretty faces with a
+ cigarette in her mouth"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 139
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch16-t">Tailpiece Chap. XVI.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 142
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch17-h">Headpiece Chap. XVII. "He was in love again"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 143
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch17-1">"I heard him walking up and down the deck"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 145
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch17-t">Tailpiece Chap. XVII. "He took the wire off me
+ and used it to clean his pipe"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 150
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch18-h">Headpiece Chap. XVIII. "I had walked from
+ Spondinig to Franzenshohe"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 151
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch18-1">"On the middle of the plank she had turned to
+ kiss her hand"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 152
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch18-2">"Then she burst into tears"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 157
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch18-t">Tailpiece Chap. XVIII. "A wall has risen up
+ between us"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 158
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch19-h">Headpiece Chap. XIX. "Primus"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 159
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch19-1">"Many tall hats struck, to topple in the dust"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 161
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch19-2">"Running after sheep, from which ladies were
+ flying"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 163
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch19-3">"I should like to write you a line"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 165
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch19-t">Tailpiece Chap. XIX. "I am, respected sir,
+ your diligent pupil"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 167
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch20-h">Headpiece Chap. XX.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 168
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch20-1">"Reading Primus's letters"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 171
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch20-t">Tailpiece Chap. XX.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 176
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch21-h">Headpiece Chap. XXI. "English-grown tobacco"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 177
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch21-1">"I smoked my third cigar very slowly"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 182
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch21-t">Tailpiece Chap. XXI.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 185
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch22-h">Headpiece Chap. XXII. "How heroes smoke"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 186
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch22-1">"Once, indeed, we do see Strathmore smoking a
+ good cigar"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 189
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch22-2">"A half-smoked cigar"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 190
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch22-3">"The tall, scornful gentleman who leans lazily
+ against the door"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 192
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch22-t">Tailpiece Chap. XXII.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 193
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch23-h">Headpiece Chap. XXIII.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 194
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch23-1">"The ghost of Christmas eve"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 195
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch23-2">"My pipe"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 199
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch23-3">"My brier, which I found beneath my pillow"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 200
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch23-t">Tailpiece Chap. XXIII.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 201
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch24-h">Headpiece Chap. XXIV. "But the pipes were old
+ friends"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 202
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch24-1">"It had the paper in its mouth"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 205
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch24-t">Tailpiece Chap. XXIV. "I was pleased that I
+ had lost"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 208
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch25-h">Headpiece Chap. XXV. "A face that haunted
+ Marriot"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 209
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch25-1">"There was the French girl at Algiers"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 212
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch25-t">Tailpiece Chap. XXV.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 215
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch26-h">Headpiece Chap. XXVI. "Arcadians at bay"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 216
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch26-1">Pipes and tobacco-jar</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 220
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch26-t">Tailpiece Chap. XXVI. "Jimmy began as follows"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 222
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch27-h">Headpiece Chap. XXVII. "Jimmy's dream"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 223
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch27-1">Pipes</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 226
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch27-2">"Council for defence calls attention to the
+ prisoner's high and unblemished character"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 229
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch27-t">Tailpiece Chap. XXVII.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 230
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch28-h">Headpiece Chap. XXVIII.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 231
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch28-1">"These indefatigable amateurs began to dance a
+ minuet"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 235
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch28-2">A friendly favor</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 237
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch28-t">Tailpiece Chap. XXVIII.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 238
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch29-h">Headpiece Chap. XXIX. "Pettigrew's dream"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 239
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch29-1">"He went round the morning-room"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 241
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch29-2">"His wife ... filled his pipe for him"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 243
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch29-3">"Mrs. Pettigrew sent one of the children to
+ the study"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 244
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch29-t">Tailpiece Chap. XXIX. "I awarded the tin of
+ Arcadia to Pettigrew"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 246
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch30-h">Headpiece Chap. XXX. "Sometimes I think it is
+ all a dream"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 247
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch30-t">Tailpiece Chap. XXX.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 251
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch31-h">Headpiece Chap. XXXI. "They thought I had
+ weakly yielded"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 252
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch31-1">"They went one night in a body to Pettigrew's"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 254
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch31-t">Tailpiece Chap. XXXI.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 259
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch32-h">Headpiece Chap. XXXII.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 260
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch32-1">"Then we began to smoke"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 262
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch32-2">"I conjured up the face of a lady"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 265
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch32-3">"Not even Scrymgeour knew what my pouch had
+ been to me"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 267
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch32-t">Tailpiece Chap. XXXII.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 268
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch33-h">Headpiece Chap. XXXIII. "When my wife is
+ asleep and all the house is still"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 269
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch33-1">"The man through the wall"</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 272
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch33-2">Pipes</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 275
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="illref">
+ <div class="a">
+ <a href="#image-ch33-t">Tailpiece Chap. XXXIII.</a>
+ </div>
+ <div class="b">
+ 276
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-illu-t" id="image-illu-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/illust-t.png" style="width:400px;height:262px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece to List of Illustrations" />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ &nbsp;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page1" name="page1"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0001" id="h2HCH0001">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <a name="image-ch01-h" id="image-ch01-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch01-h.png"
+ style="width:500px;height:210px;" alt="Headpiece to Chap. I." />
+ </div>
+ <h1>
+ MY LADY NICOTINE.
+ </h1>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER I.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ MATRIMONY AND SMOKING COMPARED.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ The circumstances in which I gave up smoking were these:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I was a mere bachelor, drifting toward what I now see to be a tragic
+ middle age. I had become so accustomed to smoke issuing from my mouth that
+ I felt incomplete without it; indeed, the time came when I could refrain
+ from smoking if doing nothing else, but hardly during the hours of toil.
+ To lay aside my pipe was to find myself soon afterward wandering
+ restlessly round my table. No blind beggar was ever more abjectly led by
+ his dog, or more loath to cut the string.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page2" name="page2"></a></span> I am
+ much better without tobacco, and already have a difficulty in sympathizing
+ with the man I used to be. Even to call him up, as it were, and regard him
+ without prejudice is a difficult task, for we forget the old selves on
+ whom we have turned our backs, as we forget a street that has been
+ reconstructed. Does the freed slave always shiver at the crack of a whip?
+ I fancy not, for I recall but dimly, and without acute suffering, the
+ horrors of my smoking days. There were nights when I awoke with a pain at
+ my heart that made me hold my breath. I did not dare move. After perhaps
+ ten minutes of dread, I would shift my position an inch at a time. Less
+ frequently I felt this sting in the daytime, and believed I was dying
+ while my friends were talking to me. I never mentioned these experiences
+ to a human being; indeed, though a medical man was among my companions, I
+ cunningly deceived him on the rare occasions when he questioned me about
+ the amount of tobacco I was consuming weekly. Often in the dark I not only
+ vowed to give up smoking, but wondered why I cared for it. Next morning I
+ went straight from breakfast to my pipe, without the smallest struggle
+ with myself. Latterly I knew, while resolving to break myself of the
+ habit, that I would be better <span class="pagenum"><a id="page3"
+ name="page3"></a></span> employed trying to sleep. I had elaborate
+ ways of cheating myself, but it became disagreeable to me to know how many
+ ounces of tobacco I was smoking weekly. Often I smoked cigarettes to
+ reduce the number of my cigars.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ On the other hand, if these sharp pains be excepted, I felt quite well. My
+ appetite was as good as it is now, and I worked as cheerfully and
+ certainly harder. To some slight extent, I believe, I experienced the same
+ pains in my boyhood, before I smoked, and I am not an absolute stranger to
+ them yet. They were most frequent in my smoking days, but I have no other
+ reason for charging them to tobacco. Possibly a doctor who was himself a
+ smoker would have pooh-poohed them. Nevertheless, I have lighted my pipe,
+ and then, as I may say, hearkened for them. At the first intimation that
+ they were coming I laid the pipe down and ceased to smoke&mdash;until they
+ had passed.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I will not admit that, once sure it was doing me harm, I could not,
+ unaided, have given up tobacco. But I was reluctant to make sure. I should
+ like to say that I left off smoking because I considered it a mean form of
+ slavery, to be condemned for moral as well as physical reasons; but though
+ now I clearly see the folly of smoking, I was blind to it for some months
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page4" name="page4"></a></span> after I
+ had smoked my last pipe. I gave up my most delightful solace, as I
+ regarded it, for no other reason than that the lady who was willing to
+ fling herself away on me said that I must choose between it and her. This
+ deferred our marriage for six months.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I have now come, as those who read will see, to look upon smoking with my
+ wife's eyes. My old bachelor friends complain because I do not allow
+ smoking in the house, but I am always ready to explain my position, and I
+ have not an atom of pity for them. If I cannot smoke here neither shall
+ they. When I visit them in the old inn they take a poor revenge by blowing
+ rings of smoke almost in my face. This ambition to blow rings is the most
+ ignoble known to man. Once I was a member of a club for smokers, where we
+ practised blowing rings. The most successful got a box of cigars as a
+ prize at the end of the year. Those were days! Often I think wistfully of
+ them. We met in a cozy room off the Strand. How well I can picture it
+ still. Time-tables lying everywhere, with which we could light our pipes.
+ Some smoked clays, but for the Arcadia Mixture give me a brier. My brier
+ was the sweetest ever known. It is strange now to recall a time when a
+ pipe seemed to be my best friend.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page5" name="page5"></a></span> My
+ present state is so happy that I can only look back with wonder at my
+ hesitation to enter upon it. Our house was taken while I was still arguing
+ that it would be dangerous to break myself of smoking all at once. At that
+ time my ideal of married life was not what it is now, and I remember
+ Jimmy's persuading me to fix on this house, because the large room
+ upstairs with the three windows was a smoker's dream. He pictured himself
+ and me there in the summer-time blowing rings, with our coats off and our
+ feet out at the windows; and he said that the closet at the back looking
+ on to a blank wall would make a charming drawing-room for my wife. For the
+ moment his enthusiasm carried me away, but I see now how selfish it was,
+ and I have before me the face of Jimmy when he paid us his first visit and
+ found that the closet was not the drawing-room. Jimmy is a fair specimen
+ of a man, not without parts, destroyed by devotion to his pipe. To this
+ day he thinks that mantelpiece vases are meant for holding pipe-lights in.
+ We are almost certain that when he stays with us he smokes in his bedroom&mdash;a
+ detestable practice that I cannot permit.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Two cigars a day at ninepence apiece come to <i>£</i>27 7<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>
+ yearly, and four ounces of tobacco a week at nine shillings a pound come
+ to <span class="pagenum"><a id="page6" name="page6"></a></span> <a
+ name="image-ch01-1" id="image-ch01-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch01-1.png"
+ style="float:left;width:150px;height:290px;margin:.5em 1em .5em 0em; padding-right: 0;"
+ alt="&quot;As well as a spring bonnet and a nice dress&quot;" /> <i>£</i>5
+ 17<i>s.</i> yearly. That makes <i>£</i>33 4<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> When we
+ calculate the yearly expense of tobacco in this way, we are naturally
+ taken aback, and our extravagance shocks us more after we have considered
+ how much more satisfactorily the money might have been spent. With <i>£</i>33
+ 4<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> you can buy new Oriental rugs for the drawing-room,
+ as well as a spring bonnet and a nice dress. These are things that give
+ permanent pleasure, whereas you have no interest in a cigar after flinging
+ away the stump. Judging by myself, I should say that it was want of
+ thought rather than selfishness that makes heavy smokers of so many
+ bachelors. Once a man marries, his eyes are opened to many things that he
+ was quite unaware of previously, among them being the delight of adding an
+ article of furniture to the drawing-room every month, and having a bedroom
+ in pink and gold, the door of which is always kept locked. If men would
+ only consider that every cigar they smoke would buy part of a new
+ piano-stool in terra-cotta plush, <span class="pagenum"><a id="page7"
+ name="page7"></a></span> and that for every pound tin of tobacco
+ purchased away goes a vase for growing dead geraniums in, they would
+ surely hesitate. They do not consider, however, until they marry, and then
+ they are forced to it. For my own part, I fail to see why bachelors should
+ be allowed to smoke as much as they like, when we are debarred from it.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch01-2" id="image-ch01-2">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figure" style="clear: both;">
+ <img src="images/ch01-2.png"
+ style="width:500px; height:127px; clear: both;"
+ alt="&quot;There are the Japanese fans on the wall&quot;" />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ The very smell of tobacco is abominable, for one cannot get it out of the
+ curtains, and there is little pleasure in existence unless the curtains
+ are all right. As for a cigar after dinner, it only makes you dull and
+ sleepy and disinclined for ladies' society. A far more delightful way of
+ spending the evening is to go straight from dinner to the drawing-room and
+ have a little music. It calms the mind to listen to your wife's niece
+ singing, "Oh, that we two were Maying!" Even if you are not musical, as is
+ the case with me, there is a great deal in the drawing-room to refresh
+ you. There are the Japanese fans on the wall, which are things of beauty,
+ though your artistic taste may not be <span class="pagenum"><a id="page8"
+ name="page8"></a></span> sufficiently educated to let you know it
+ except by hearsay; and it is pleasant to feel that they were bought with
+ money which, in the foolish old days, would have been squandered on a box
+ of cigars. In like manner every pretty trifle in the room reminds you how
+ much wiser you are now than you used to be. It is even gratifying to stand
+ in summer at the drawing-room window and watch the very cabbies passing
+ with cigars in their mouths. At the same time, if I had the making of the
+ laws I would prohibit people's smoking in the street. If they are married
+ men, they are smoking drawing-room fire-screens and mantelpiece borders
+ for the pink-and-gold room. If they are bachelors, it is a scandal that
+ bachelors should get the best of everything.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Nothing is more pitiable than the way some men of my acquaintance enslave
+ themselves to tobacco.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Nay, worse, they make an idol of some one particular tobacco. I know a man
+ who considers a certain mixture so superior to all others that he will
+ walk three miles for it. Surely every one will admit that this is
+ lamentable. It is not even a good mixture, for I used to try it
+ occasionally; and if there is one man in London who knows tobaccoes it is
+ myself. There <span class="pagenum"><a id="page9" name="page9"></a></span>
+ is only one mixture in London deserving the adjective superb. I will not
+ say where it is to be got, for the result would certainly be that many
+ foolish men would smoke more than ever; but I never knew anything to
+ compare to it. It is deliciously mild yet full of fragrance, and it never
+ burns the tongue. If you try it once you smoke it ever afterward. It
+ clears the brain and soothes the temper. When I went away for a holiday
+ anywhere I took as much of that exquisite health-giving mixture as I
+ thought would last me the whole time, but I always ran out of it. Then I
+ telegraphed to London for more, and was miserable until it arrived. How I
+ tore the lid off the canister! That is a tobacco to live for. But I am
+ better without it.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Occasionally I feel a little depressed after dinner still, without being
+ able to say why, and if my wife has left me, I wander about the room
+ restlessly, like one who misses something. Usually, however, she takes me
+ with her to the drawing-room, and reads aloud her delightfully long
+ home-letters or plays soft music to me. If the music be sweet and sad it
+ takes me away to a stair in an inn, which I climb gayly, and shake open a
+ heavy door on the top floor, and turn up the gas. It is a little room I am
+ in once again, and very dusty. A pile of papers <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page10" name="page10"></a></span> and magazines stands as high
+ as a table in the corner furthest from the door. The cane chair shows the
+ exact shape of Marriot's back. What is left (after lighting the fire) of a
+ frame picture lies on the hearth-rug. Gilray walks in uninvited. He has
+ left word that his visitors are to be sent on to me. The room fills. My
+ hand feels along the mantelpiece for a brown jar. The jar is between my
+ knees; I fill my pipe....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ After a time the music ceases, and my wife puts her hand on my shoulder.
+ Perhaps I start a little, and then she says I have been asleep. This is
+ the book of my dreams.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch01-t" id="image-ch01-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch01-t.png" width="400" height="330"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. I. &quot;My wife puts her hand on my shoulder&quot;" />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page11" name="page11"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0002" id="h2HCH0002">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER II.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ MY FIRST CIGAR.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch02-h" id="image-ch02-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch02-h.png"
+ style="width:150px;height:412px;float: right; margin: 0em 0em .5em 1em; padding: 0;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. II." />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It was not in my chambers, but three hundred miles further north, that I
+ learned to smoke. I think I may say with confidence that a first cigar was
+ never smoked in such circumstances before.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ At that time I was a school-boy, living with my brother, who was a man.
+ People mistook our relations, and thought I was his son. They would ask me
+ how my father was, and when he heard of this he scowled at me. Even to
+ this day I look so young that people who remember me as a boy now think I
+ must be that boy's younger brother. I shall tell presently of a strange
+ mistake of this kind, but at present I am thinking of the evening when my
+ brother's eldest daughter was born&mdash;perhaps the most trying evening
+ he and I ever passed together. So far as I knew, the affair was very
+ sudden, <span class="pagenum"><a id="page12" name="page12"></a></span>
+ and I felt sorry for my brother as well as for myself.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ We sat together in the study, he on an arm-chair drawn near the fire and I
+ on the couch. I cannot say now at what time I began to have an inkling
+ that there was something wrong. It came upon me gradually and made me very
+ uncomfortable, though of course I did not show this. I heard people going
+ up and down stairs, but I was not at that time naturally suspicious.
+ Comparatively early in the evening I felt that my brother had something on
+ his mind. As a rule, when we were left together, he yawned or drummed with
+ his fingers on the arm of his chair to show that he did not feel
+ uncomfortable, or I made a pretence of being at ease by playing with the
+ dog or saying that the room was close. Then one of us would rise, remark
+ that he had left his book in the dining-room, and go away to look for it,
+ taking care not to come back till the other had gone. In this crafty way
+ we helped each other. On that occasion, however, he did not adopt any of
+ the usual methods, and though I went up to my bedroom several times and
+ listened through the wall, I heard nothing. At last some one told me not
+ to go upstairs, and I returned to the study, feeling that I now knew the
+ worst. He <span class="pagenum"><a id="page13" name="page13"></a></span>
+ was still in the arm-chair, and I again took to the couch. I could see by
+ the way he looked at me over his pipe that he was wondering whether I knew
+ anything. I don't think I ever liked my brother better than on that night;
+ and I wanted him to understand that, whatever happened, it would make no
+ difference between us. But the affair upstairs was too delicate to talk
+ of, and all I could do was to try to keep his mind from brooding on it, by
+ making him tell me things about politics. This is the kind of man my
+ brother is. He is an astonishing master of facts, and I suppose he never
+ read a book yet, from a Blue Book to a volume of verse, without catching
+ the author in error about something. He reads books for that purpose. As a
+ rule I avoided argument with him, because he was disappointed if I was
+ right and stormed if I was wrong. It was therefore a dangerous thing to
+ begin on politics, but I thought the circumstances warranted it. To my
+ surprise he answered me in a rambling manner, occasionally breaking off in
+ the middle of a sentence and seeming to listen for something. I tried him
+ on history, and mentioned 1822 as the date of the battle of Waterloo,
+ merely to give him his opportunity. But he let it pass. After that there
+ was silence. By and by he <span class="pagenum"><a id="page14"
+ name="page14"></a></span> <a name="image-ch02-1" id="image-ch02-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch02-1.png"
+ style="float:left;width:150px;height:327px;margin: .5em 1em .5em 0em; padding: 0;"
+ alt="&quot;At last he jumped up&quot;" /> rose from his chair, apparently
+ to leave the room, and then sat down again, as if he had thought better of
+ it. He did this several times, always eying me narrowly. Wondering how I
+ could make it easier for him, I took up a book and pretended to read with
+ deep attention, meaning to show him that he could go away if he liked
+ without my noticing it. At last he jumped up, and, looking at me boldly,
+ as if to show that the house was his and he could do what he liked in it,
+ went heavily from the room. As soon as he was gone I laid down my book. I
+ was now in a state of nervous excitement, though outwardly I was quite
+ calm. I took a look at him as he went up the stairs, and noticed that he
+ had slipped off his shoes on the bottom step. All haughtiness had left him
+ now.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ In a little while he came back. He found me reading. He lighted his pipe
+ and pretended to read too. I shall never forget that my book was "Anne
+ Judge, Spinster," while his was a volume of "Blackwood." Every five
+ minutes his pipe went out, and sometimes <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page15" name="page15"></a></span> the book lay neglected on his
+ knee as he stared at the fire. Then he would go out for five minutes and
+ come back again. It was late now, and I felt that I should like to go to
+ my bedroom and lock myself in. That, however, would have been selfish; so
+ we sat on defiantly. At last he started from his chair as some one knocked
+ at the door. I heard several people talking, and then loud above their
+ voices a younger one.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch02-2" id="image-ch02-2">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch02-2.png" style="width:400px;height:169px;"
+ alt="Box of cigars" />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ When I came to myself, the first thing I thought was that they would ask
+ me to hold it. Then I remembered, with another sinking at the heart, that
+ they might want to call it after me. These, of course, were selfish
+ reflections; but my position was a trying one. The question was, what was
+ the proper thing for me to do? I told myself that my brother might come
+ back at any moment, and all I thought of after that was what I should say
+ to him. I had an <span class="pagenum"><a id="page16" name="page16"></a>
+ </span> idea that I ought to congratulate him, but it seemed a brutal
+ thing to do. I had not made up my mind when I heard him coming down. He
+ was laughing and joking in what seemed to me a flippant kind of way,
+ considering the circumstances. When his hand touched the door I snatched
+ at my book and read as hard as I could. He was swaggering a little as he
+ entered, but the swagger went out of him as soon as his eye fell on me. I
+ fancy he had come down to tell me, and now he did not know how to begin.
+ He walked up and down the room restlessly, looking at me as he walked the
+ one way, while I looked at him as he walked the other way. At length he
+ sat down again and took up his book. He did not try to smoke. The silence
+ was something terrible; nothing was to be heard but an occasional cinder
+ falling from the grate. This lasted, I should say, for twenty minutes, and
+ then he closed his book and flung it on the table. I saw that the game was
+ up, and closed "Anne Judge, Spinster." Then he said, with affected
+ jocularity: "Well, young man, do you know that you are an uncle?" There
+ was silence again, for I was still trying to think out some appropriate
+ remark. After a time I said, in a weak voice. "Boy or girl?" "Girl," he
+ answered. Then <span class="pagenum"><a id="page17" name="page17"></a>
+ </span> I thought hard again, and all at once remembered something.
+ "Both doing well?" I whispered. "Yes," he said sternly. I felt that
+ something great was expected of me, but I could not jump up and wring his
+ hand. I was an uncle. I stretched out my arm toward the cigar-box, and
+ firmly lighted my first cigar.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch02-t" id="image-ch02-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch02-t.png" style="width:400px;height:497px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. II. &quot;I firmly lighted my first cigar&quot;" />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page18" name="page18"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0003" id="h2HCH0003">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER III.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ THE ARCADIA MIXTURE.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch03-h" id="image-ch03-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch03-ha.png"
+ style="float:left;width:200px;height:143px;padding:0; margin: 0em 1em 0em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. III. &quot;Jimmy pins a notice on his door&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch03-hb.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:both;width:129px;height:216px;padding: 0; margin: 0em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. III. &quot;Jimmy pins a notice on his door&quot;" />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Darkness comes, and with it the porter to light our stair gas. He vanishes
+ into his box. Already the inn is so quiet that the tap of a pipe on a
+ window-sill startles all the sparrows in the quadrangle. The men on my
+ stair emerged from their holes. Scrymgeour, in a dressing-gown, pushes
+ open the door of the boudoir on the first floor, and climbs lazily. The
+ sentimental face and the clay with a crack in it are Marriot's. Gilray,
+ who has been rehearsing his part in the new original comedy from the
+ Icelandic, ceases muttering and feels his way along his dark lobby. Jimmy
+ pins a notice on his door, "Called away on business," <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page19" name="page19"></a></span> and crosses to me. Soon we
+ are all in the old room again, Jimmy on the hearth-rug, Marriot in the
+ cane chair; the curtains are pinned together with a pen-nib, and the five
+ of us are smoking the Arcadia Mixture.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Pettigrew will be welcomed if he comes, but he is a married man, and we
+ seldom see him nowadays. Others will be regarded as intruders. If they are
+ smoking common tobaccoes, they must either be allowed to try ours or
+ requested to withdraw. One need only put his head in at my door to realize
+ that tobaccoes are of two kinds, the Arcadia and others. No one who smokes
+ the Arcadia would ever attempt to describe its delights, for his pipe
+ would be certain to go out. When he was at school, Jimmy Moggridge smoked
+ a cane chair, and he has since said that from cane to ordinary mixtures
+ was not so noticeable as the change from ordinary mixtures to the Arcadia.
+ I ask no one to believe this, for the confirmed smoker in Arcadia detests
+ arguing with anybody about anything. Were I anxious to prove Jimmy's
+ statement, I would merely give you the only address at which the Arcadia
+ is to be had. But that I will not do. It would be as rash as proposing a
+ man with whom I am unacquainted for my club. You may not be worthy to
+ smoke the Arcadia Mixture.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page20" name="page20"></a></span> <a
+ name="image-ch03-1" id="image-ch03-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch03-1.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:125px;height:658px;margin: 0em 1em .5em 0em; padding: 0;"
+ alt="&quot;We are only to be distinguished by our pipes&quot;" /> Even
+ though I became attached to you, I might not like to take the
+ responsibility of introducing you to the Arcadia. This mixture has an
+ extraordinary effect upon character, and probably you want to remain as
+ you are. Before I discovered the Arcadia, and communicated it to the other
+ five&mdash;including Pettigrew&mdash;we had all distinct individualities,
+ but now, except in appearance&mdash;and the Arcadia even tells on that&mdash;we
+ are as like as holly leaves. We have the same habits, the same ways of
+ looking at things, the same satisfaction in each other. No doubt we are
+ not yet absolutely alike, indeed I intend to prove this, but in given
+ circumstances we would probably do the same thing, and, furthermore, it
+ would be what other people would not do. Thus when we are together we are
+ only to be distinguished by <span class="pagenum"><a id="page21"
+ name="page21"></a></span> our pipes; but any one of us in the
+ company of persons who smoke other tobaccoes would be considered highly
+ original. He would be a pigtail in Europe.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ If you meet in company a man who has ideas and is not shy, yet refuses
+ absolutely to be drawn into talk, you may set him down as one <a
+ name="image-ch03-2" id="image-ch03-2">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch03-2.png"
+ style="float:right;width:150px;height:311px;margin: .5em 0em .5em 1em; padding: 0;"
+ alt="The Arcadia Mixture" /> of us. Among the first effects of the Arcadia
+ is to put an end to jabber. Gilray had at one time the reputation of being
+ such a brilliant talker that Arcadians locked their doors on him, but now
+ he is a man that can be invited anywhere. The Arcadia is entirely
+ responsible for the change. Perhaps I myself am the most silent of our
+ company, and hostesses usually think me shy. They ask ladies to draw me
+ out, and when the ladies find me as hopeless as a sulky drawer, they call
+ me stupid. The charge may be true, but I do not resent it, for I smoke the
+ Arcadia Mixture, and am consequently indifferent to abuse.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I willingly gibbet myself to show how reticent the Arcadia makes us. It
+ happens that I have <span class="pagenum"><a id="page22" name="page22"></a>
+ </span> a connection with Nottingham, and whenever a man mentions
+ Nottingham to me, with a certain gleam in his eye, I know that he wants to
+ discuss the lace trade. But it is a curious fact that the aggressive
+ talker constantly mixes up Nottingham and Northampton. "Oh, you know
+ Nottingham," he says, interestedly; "and how do you like Labouchere for a
+ member?" Do you think I put him right? Do you imagine me thirsting to tell
+ that Mr. Labouchere is the Christian member for Northampton? Do you
+ suppose me swift to explain that Mr. Broadhurst is one of the Nottingham
+ members, and that the "Nottingham lambs" are notorious in the history of
+ political elections? Do you fancy me explaining that he is quite right in
+ saying that Nottingham has a large market-place? Do you see me drawn into
+ half an hour's talk about Robin Hood? That is not my way. I merely reply
+ that we like Mr. Labouchere pretty well. It may be said that I gain
+ nothing by this; that the talker will be as curious about Northampton as
+ he would have been about Nottingham, and that Bradlaugh and Labouchere and
+ boots will serve his turn quite as well as Broadhurst and lace and Robin
+ Hood. But that is not so. Beginning on Northampton in the most confident
+ manner, it suddenly flashes across him that <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page23" name="page23"></a></span> he has mistaken Northampton
+ for Nottingham. "How foolish of me!" he says. I maintain a severe silence.
+ He is annoyed. My experience of talkers tells me that nothing annoys them
+ so much as a blunder of this kind. From the coldly polite way in which I
+ have taken the talker's remarks, he discovers the value I put upon them,
+ and after that, if he has a neighbor on the other side, he leaves me
+ alone.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Enough has been said to show that the Arcadian's golden rule is to be
+ careful about what he says. This does not mean that he is to say nothing.
+ As society is at present constituted you are bound to make an occasional
+ remark. But you need not make it rashly. It has been said somewhere that
+ it would be well for talkative persons to count twenty, or to go over the
+ alphabet, before they let fall the observation that trembles on their
+ lips. The non-talker has no taste for such an unintellectual exercise. At
+ the same time he must not hesitate too long, for, of course, it is to his
+ advantage to introduce the subject. He ought to think out a topic of which
+ his neighbor will not be able to make very much. To begin on the fall of
+ snow, or the number of tons of turkeys consumed on Christmas Day, as
+ stated in the <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, is to deserve your fate. If you are
+ at a dinner-party <span class="pagenum"><a id="page24" name="page24"></a>
+ </span> of men only, take your host aside, and in a few well-considered
+ sentences find out from him what kind of men you are to sit between during
+ dinner. Perhaps one of them is an African traveller. A knowledge of this
+ prevents your playing into his hands, by remarking that the papers are
+ full of the relief of Emin Pasha. These private inquiries will also save
+ you from talking about Mr. Chamberlain to a neighbor who turns out to be
+ the son of a Birmingham elector. Allow that man his chance, and he will
+ not only give you the Birmingham gossip, but what individual electors said
+ about Mr. Chamberlain to the banker or the tailor, and what the grocer did
+ the moment the poll was declared, with particulars about the antiquity of
+ Birmingham and the fishing to be had in the neighborhood. What you ought
+ to do is to talk about Emin Pasha to this man, and to the traveller about
+ Mr. Chamberlain, taking care, of course, to speak in a low voice. In that
+ way you may have comparative peace. Everything, however, depends on the
+ calibre of your neighbors. If they agree to look upon you as an honorable
+ antagonist, and so to fight fair, the victory will be to him who deserves
+ it; that is to say, to the craftier man of the two. But talkers, as a
+ rule, do not fight fair. They consider <span class="pagenum"><a id="page25"
+ name="page25"></a></span> silent men their prey. It will thus be
+ seen that I distinguish between talkers, admitting that some of them are
+ worse than others. The lowest in the social scale is he who stabs you in
+ the back, as it were, instead of crossing swords. If one of the gentlemen
+ introduced to you is of that type, he will not be ashamed to say,
+ "Speaking of Emin Pasha, I wonder if Mr. Chamberlain is interested in the
+ relief expedition. I don't know if I told you that my father&mdash;&mdash;"
+ and there he is, fairly on horseback. It is seldom of any use to tempt him
+ into other channels. Better turn to your traveller and let him describe
+ the different routes to Egyptian Equatorial Provinces, with his own views
+ thereon. Allow him even to draw a map of Africa with a fork on the
+ table-cloth. A talker of this kind is too full of his subject to insist
+ upon answering questions, so that he does not trouble you much. It is his
+ own dinner that is spoiled rather than yours. Treat in the same way as the
+ Chamberlain talker the man who sits down beside you and begins,
+ "Remarkable man, Mr. Gladstone."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ There was a ventilator in my room, which sometimes said "Crik-crik!"
+ reminding us that no one had spoken for an hour. Occasionally, however, we
+ had lapses of speech, when Gilray <span class="pagenum"><a id="page26"
+ name="page26"></a></span> might tell over again&mdash;though not
+ quite as I mean to tell it&mdash;the story of his first pipeful of the
+ Arcadia, or Scrymgeour, the travelled man, would give us the list of
+ famous places in Europe where he had smoked. But, as a rule, none of us
+ paid much attention to what the others said, and after the last pipe the
+ room emptied&mdash;unless Marriot insisted on staying behind to bore me
+ with his scruples&mdash;by first one and then another putting his pipe
+ into his pocket and walking silently out of the room.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch03-t" id="image-ch03-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch03-t.png" style="width:400px;height:335px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. III." />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page27" name="page27"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0004" id="h2HCH0004">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER IV.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ MY PIPES.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ In a select company of scoffers my brier was known as the Mermaid. The
+ mouth-piece was a cigarette-holder, and months of unwearied practice were
+ required before you found the angle at which the bowl did not drop off.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch04-h" id="image-ch04-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch04-h.png"
+ style="float: right; width:225px;height:364px;margin: .5em 0em .5em 1em; padding:0;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. IV. &quot;Oh, see what I have done&quot;" /> This
+ brings me to one of the many advantages that my brier had over all other
+ pipes. It has given me a reputation for gallantry, to which without it I
+ fear I could lay no claim. I used to have a passion for repartee,
+ especially in the society of ladies. But it is with me as with many other
+ men of parts whose wit has ever to be fired by a long fuse: my best things
+ strike me as I wend my way home. This embittered my early days; and not
+ till the pride of youth had been tamed could I stop to lay in a stock of
+ repartee on likely subjects the night before. <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page28" name="page28"></a></span> Then my pipe helped me. It
+ was the apparatus that carried me to my prettiest compliment. Having
+ exposed my pipe in some prominent place where it could hardly escape
+ notice, I took measures for insuring a visit from a lady, young, graceful,
+ accomplished. Or I might have it ready for a chance visitor. On her
+ arrival, I conducted her to a seat near my pipe. It is not good to hurry
+ on to the repartee at once; so I talked for a time of the weather, the
+ theatres, the new novel. I kept my eye on her; and by and by she began to
+ look about her. She observed the strange-looking pipe. Now is the critical
+ moment. It is possible that she may pass it by without remark, in which
+ case all is lost; but experience has shown me that four times out of six
+ she touches it in assumed horror, to pass some humorous remark. Off
+ tumbles the bowl. "Oh," she exclaims, "see what I have done! I am so
+ sorry!" I pull myself together. "Madame," I reply calmly, and bowing low,
+ "what else was to be expected? You came near my pipe&mdash;and it lost its
+ head." She blushes, but cannot help being pleased; and I set my pipe for
+ the next visitor. By the help of a note-book, of course, I guarded myself
+ against paying this very neat compliment to any person more than once.
+ However, after I <span class="pagenum"><a id="page29" name="page29"></a>
+ </span> smoked the Arcadia the desire to pay ladies compliments went
+ from me.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Journeying back into the past, I come to a time when my pipe had a
+ mouth-piece of fine amber. The bowl and the rest of the stem were of
+ brier, but it was a gentlemanly pipe, without silver mountings. Such
+ tobacco I revelled in as may have filled the pouch of Pan as he lay
+ smoking on the mountain-sides. Once I saw a beautiful woman with brown
+ hair, in and out of which the rays of a morning sun played hide-and-seek,
+ that might not unworthily have been compared to it. Beguiled by the
+ exquisite Arcadia, the days and the years passed from me in delicate rings
+ of smoke, and I contentedly watched them sailing to the skies. How
+ continuous was the line of those lovely circles, and how straight! One
+ could have passed an iron rod through them from end to end. But one day I
+ had a harsh awakening. I bit the amber mouth-piece of my pipe through, and
+ life was never the same again.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It is strange how attached we become to old friends, though they be but
+ inanimate objects. The old pipe put aside, I turned to a meerschaum, which
+ had been presented to me years before, with the caution that I must not
+ smoke it unless I wore kid gloves. There was no savor <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page30" name="page30"></a></span> in that pipe for me. I tried
+ another brier, and it made me unhappy. Clays would not keep in with me. It
+ seemed as if they knew I was hankering after the old pipe, and went out in
+ disgust. Then I got a new amber mouth-piece for my first love. In a week I
+ had bitten that through too, and in an over-anxious attempt to file off
+ the ragged edges I broke the screw. Moralists have said that the smoker
+ who has no thought but for his pipe never breaks it; that it is he only
+ who while smoking concentrates his mind on some less worthy object that
+ sends his teeth through the amber. This may be so; for I am a philosopher,
+ and when working out new theories I may have been careless even of that
+ which inspired them most.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ After this second accident nothing went well with me or with my pipe. I
+ took the mouthpieces out of other pipes and fixed them on to the Mermaid.
+ In a little while one of them became too wide; another broke as I was
+ screwing it more firmly in. Then the bowl cracked at the rim and split at
+ the bottom. This was an annoyance until I found out what was wrong and
+ plugged up the fissures with sealing-wax. The wax melted and dropped upon
+ my clothes after a time; but it was easily renewed.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It was now that I had the happy thought of <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page31" name="page31"></a></span> bringing a cigarette-holder
+ to my assistance. But of course one cannot make a pipe-stem out of a
+ cigarette-holder all at once. The thread you wind round the screw has a
+ disappointing way of coming undone, when down falls the bowl, with an
+ escape of sparks. Twisting a piece of paper round the screw is an
+ improvement; but, until you have acquired the knack, the operation has to
+ be renewed every time you relight your pipe. This involves a sad loss of
+ time, and in my case it afforded a butt for the dull wit of visitors.
+ Otherwise I found it satisfactory, and I was soon astonishingly adept at
+ making paper screws. Eventually my brier became as serviceable as
+ formerly, though not, perhaps, so handsome. I fastened on the holder with
+ sealing-wax, and often a week passed without my having to renew the joint.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It was no easy matter lighting a pipe like mine, especially when I had no
+ matches. I always meant to buy a number of boxes, but somehow I put off
+ doing it. Occasionally I found a box of vestas on my mantelpiece, which
+ some caller had left there by mistake, or sympathizing, perhaps, with my
+ case; but they were such a novelty that I never felt quite at home with
+ them. Generally I remembered they were there just after my pipe was
+ lighted.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page32" name="page32"></a></span> When
+ I kept them in mind and looked forward to using them, they were at the
+ other side of the room, and it would have been a pity to get up for them.
+ Besides, the most convenient medium for lighting one's pipe is paper,
+ after all; and if you have not an old envelope in your pocket, there is
+ probably a photograph standing on the mantelpiece. It is convenient to
+ have the magazines lying handy; or a page from a book&mdash;hand-made
+ paper burns beautifully&mdash;will do. To be sure, there is the lighting
+ of your paper. For this your lamp is practically useless, standing in the
+ middle of the table, while you are in an easy-chair by the fireside; and
+ as for the tape-and-spark contrivance, it is the introduction of machinery
+ into the softest joys of life. The fire is best. It is near you, and you
+ drop your burning spill into it with a minimum waste of energy. The proper
+ fire for pipes is one in a cheerful blaze. If your spill is carelessly
+ constructed the flame runs up into your fingers before you know what you
+ are doing, so that it is as well to marry and get your wife to make spills
+ for you. Before you begin to smoke, scatter these about the fireplace.
+ Then you will be able to reach them without rising. The irritating fire is
+ the one that has burned low&mdash;when the coals are more than half
+ cinders, and <span class="pagenum"><a id="page33" name="page33"></a></span>
+ <a name="image-ch04-1" id="image-ch04-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch04-1.png"
+ style="float:right;width:150px;height:653px;padding: 0; margin: .5em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;I fell in love with two little meerschaums&quot;" /> cling to
+ each other in fear of death. With such a fire it is no use attempting to
+ light a pipe all at once. Your better course now is to drop little bits of
+ paper into the likely places in the fire, and have a spill ready to apply
+ to the one that lights first. It is an anxious moment, for they may merely
+ shrivel up sullenly without catching fire, and in that case some men lose
+ their tempers. Bad to lose your temper over your pipe&mdash;&mdash;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ No pipe really ever rivalled the brier in my affections, though I can
+ recall a mad month when I fell in love with two little meerschaums, which
+ I christened Romulus and Remus. They lay together in one case in Regent
+ Street, and it was with difficulty that I could pass <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page34" name="page34"></a></span> the shop without going in.
+ Often I took side streets to escape their glances, but at last I asked the
+ price. It startled me, and I hurried home to the brier.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I forget when it was that a sort of compromise struck me. This was that I
+ should present the pipes to my brother as a birthday gift. Did I really
+ mean to do this, or was I only trying to cheat my conscience? Who can
+ tell? I hurried again into Regent Street. There they were, more beautiful
+ than ever. I hovered about the shop for quite half an hour that day. My
+ indecision and vacillation were pitiful. Buttoning up my coat, I would
+ rush from the window, only to find myself back again in five minutes.
+ Sometimes I had my hand on the shop door. Then I tore it away and hurried
+ into Oxford Street. Then I slunk back again. Self whispered, "Buy them&mdash;for
+ your brother." Conscience said, "Go home." At last I braced myself up for
+ a magnificent effort, and jumped into a 'bus bound for London Bridge. This
+ saved me for the time.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I now began to calculate how I could become owner of the meerschaums&mdash;prior
+ to dispatching them by parcel-post to my brother&mdash;without paying for
+ them. That was my way of putting it. I calculated that by giving up my
+ daily <span class="pagenum"><a id="page35" name="page35"></a></span>
+ paper I should save thirteen shillings in six months. After all, why
+ should I take in a daily paper? To read through columns of public speeches
+ and police cases and murders in Paris is only to squander valuable time.
+ Now, when I left home I promised my father not to waste my time. My father
+ had been very good to me; why, then, should I do that which I had promised
+ him not to do? Then, again, there were the theatres. During the past six
+ months I had spent several pounds on theatres. Was this right? My mother,
+ who has never, I think, been in a theatre, strongly advised me against
+ frequenting such places. I did not take this much to heart at the time.
+ Theatres did not seem to me to be immoral. But, after all, my mother is
+ older than I am; and who am I, to set my views up against hers? By
+ avoiding the theatres for the next six months, I am (already), say, three
+ pounds to the good. I had been frittering away my money, too, on luxuries;
+ and luxuries are effeminate. Thinking the matter over temperately and
+ calmly in that way, I saw that I should be thoughtfully saving money,
+ instead of spending it, by buying Romulus and Remus, as I already called
+ them. At the same time, I should be gratifying my father and my mother,
+ and leading a higher and a nobler life. <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page36" name="page36"></a></span> <a name="image-ch04-2"
+ id="image-ch04-2">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch04-2.png"
+ style="float:left;width:150px;height:300px;padding:0; margin: .5em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="Pipes and pouch" /> Even then I do not know that I should have bought
+ the pipes until the six months were up, had I not been driven to it by
+ jealousy. On my life, love for a pipe is ever like love for a woman,
+ though they say it is not so acute. Many a man thinks there is no haste to
+ propose until he sees a hated rival approaching. Even if he is not in a
+ hurry for the lady himself, he loathes the idea of her giving herself, in
+ a moment of madness, to that other fellow. Rather than allow that, he
+ proposes himself, and so insures her happiness. It was so with me. Romulus
+ and Remus were taken from the window to show to a black-bearded, swarthy
+ man, whom I suspected of designs upon them the moment he entered the shop.
+ Ah, the agony of waiting until he came out! He was not worthy of them. I
+ never knew how much I loved them until I had nearly lost them. As soon as
+ he was gone I asked if <span class="pagenum"><a id="page37" name="page37"></a>
+ </span> he had priced them, and was told that he had. He was to call
+ again to-morrow. I left a deposit of a guinea, hurried home for more
+ money, and that night Romulus and Remus were mine. But I never really
+ loved them as I loved my brier.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch04-t" id="image-ch04-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch04-t.png" style="width:400px;height:307px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. IV." />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page38" name="page38"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0005" id="h2HCH0005">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER V.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ MY TOBACCO-POUCH.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ I once knew a lady who said of her husband that he looked nice when
+ sitting with a rug over him. My female relatives seemed to have the same
+ opinion of my tobacco-pouch; for they <a name="image-ch05-h"
+ id="image-ch05-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch05-h.png"
+ style="float:left;width:250px;height:405px;padding: 0; margin: .5em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. V. &quot;They ... made tongs of their knitting-needles to lift it&quot;" />
+ never saw it, even in my own room, without putting a book or pamphlet over
+ it. They called it "that thing," and made tongs of their knitting-needles
+ to lift it; and when I indignantly returned it to my pocket, they raised
+ their hands to signify that I would not listen to reason. It seemed to
+ come natural to other persons to present me with new tobacco-pouches,
+ until I had nearly a score lying neglected in drawers. But I am not the
+ man to desert an old friend that has been with me everywhere and
+ thoroughly knows my ways. Once, indeed, <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page39" name="page39"></a></span> I came near to being
+ unfaithful to my tobacco-pouch, and I mean to tell how&mdash;partly as a
+ punishment to myself.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The incident took place several years ago. Gilray and I had set out on a
+ walking tour of the Shakespeare country; but we separated at Stratford,
+ which was to be our starting-point, because he would not wait for me. I am
+ more of a Shakespearian student than Gilray, and Stratford affected me so
+ much that I passed day after day smoking reverently at the hotel door;
+ while he, being of the pure tourist type (not that I would say a word
+ against Gilray), wanted to rush from one place of interest to another. He
+ did not understand what thoughts came to me as I strolled down the
+ Stratford streets; and in the hotel, when I lay down on the sofa, he said
+ I was sleeping, though I was really picturing to myself Shakespeare's
+ boyhood. Gilray even went the length of arguing that it would not be a
+ walking tour at all if we never made a start; so, upon the whole, I was
+ glad when he departed alone. The next day was a memorable one to me. In
+ the morning I wrote to my London tobacconist for more Arcadia. I had
+ quarrelled with both of the Stratford tobacconists. The one of them, as
+ soon as he saw my tobacco-pouch, almost compelled me to buy <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page40" name="page40"></a></span> a new one.
+ The second was even more annoying. I paid with a half-sovereign for the
+ tobacco I had got from him; but after gazing at the pouch he became
+ suspicious of the coin, and asked if I could not pay him in silver. An
+ insult to my pouch I considered an insult to myself; so I returned to
+ those shops no more. The evening of the day on which I wrote to London for
+ tobacco brought me a letter from home saying that my sister was seriously
+ ill. I had left her in good health, so that the news was the more
+ distressing. Of course I returned home by the first train. Sitting alone
+ in a dull railway compartment, my heart was filled with tenderness, and I
+ recalled the occasions on which I had carelessly given her pain. Suddenly
+ I remembered that more than once she had besought me with tears in her
+ eyes to fling away my old tobacco-pouch. She had always said that it was
+ not respectable. <span class="pagenum"><a id="page41" name="page41"></a>
+ </span> In the bitterness of self-reproach I pulled the pouch from my
+ pocket, asking myself whether, after all, the love of a good woman was not
+ a far more precious possession. Without giving myself time to hesitate, I
+ stood up and firmly cast my old pouch out at the window. I saw it fall at
+ the foot of a fence. The train shot on.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch05-1" id="image-ch05-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter" style="padding: 0em; margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;">
+ <img src="images/ch05-1.png" style="width: 100%;clear:both;"
+ alt="&quot;I ... cast my old pouch out at the window&quot;" />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ By the time I reached home my sister had been pronounced out of danger. Of
+ course I was much relieved to hear it, but at the same time this was a
+ lesson to me not to act rashly. The retention of my tobacco-pouch would
+ not have retarded her recovery, and I could not help picturing my pouch,
+ my oldest friend in the world, lying at the foot of that fence. I saw that
+ I had done wrong in casting it from me. I had not even the consolation of
+ feeling that if any one found it he would cherish it, for it was so much
+ damaged that I knew it could never appeal to a new owner as it appealed to
+ me. I had intended telling my sister of the sacrifice <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page42" name="page42"></a></span> made for her sake; but after
+ seeing her so much better, I left the room without doing so. There was
+ Arcadia Mixture in the house, but I had not the heart to smoke. I went
+ early to bed, and fell into a troubled sleep, from which I awoke with a
+ shiver. The rain was driving against my window, tapping noisily on it as
+ if calling on me to awake and go back for my tobacco-pouch. It rained far
+ on into the morning, and I lay miserably, seeing nothing before me but a
+ wet fence, and a tobacco-pouch among the grass at the foot of it.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch05-2" id="image-ch05-2">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch05-2.png"
+ style="float: left; width:150px;height:189px;padding: 0; margin: .5em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="Pouch" /> On the following afternoon I was again at Stratford. So far
+ as I could remember, I had flung away the pouch within a few miles of the
+ station; but I did not look for it until dusk. I felt that the porters had
+ their eyes on me. By crouching along hedges I at last reached the railway
+ a mile or two from the station, and began my search. It may be thought
+ that the chances were against my finding the pouch; but I recovered it
+ without much difficulty. The scene as I flung my old friend out at the
+ window had burned itself into my brain, and I could go to the spot to-day
+ as readily as I went on that occasion. There it was, lying among the
+ grass, but not quite in the place where it had fallen. Apparently some
+ navvy had found <span class="pagenum"><a id="page43" name="page43"></a>
+ </span> it, looked at it, and then dropped it. It was half-full of
+ water, and here and there it was sticking together; but I took it up
+ tenderly, and several times on the way back to the station I felt in my
+ pocket to make sure that it was really there.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch05-3" id="image-ch05-3">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch05-3a.png"
+ style="float:right;width:200px;height:219px;padding:0;margin: .5em 0em 0em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;It never quite recovered from its night in the rain&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch05-3b.png"
+ style="float:right;clear:right;width:133px;height:125px;padding:0;margin:0em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;It never quite recovered from its night in the rain&quot;" /> I
+ have not described the appearance of my pouch, feeling that to be
+ unnecessary. It never, I fear, quite recovered from its night in the rain,
+ and as my female relatives refused to touch it, I had to sew it together
+ now and then myself. Gilray used to boast of a way of mending a hole in a
+ tobacco-pouch that was better than sewing. You put the two pieces of
+ gutta-percha close together and then cut them sharply with scissors. This
+ makes them run together, he says, and I believed him until he experimented
+ upon my pouch. However, I did not object to a hole here and there.
+ Wherever I laid that pouch it left a small deposit of tobacco, and thus I
+ could <span class="pagenum"><a id="page44" name="page44"></a></span>
+ generally get together a pipeful at times when other persons would be
+ destitute. I never told my sister that my pouch was once all but lost, but
+ ever after that, when she complained that I had never even tried to do
+ without it, I smiled tenderly.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch05-t" id="image-ch05-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch05-t.png" style="width:400px;height:103px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. V." />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page45" name="page45"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0006" id="h2HCH0006">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER VI.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ MY SMOKING-TABLE.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch06-h" id="image-ch06-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch06-h.png"
+ style="float: right;width:150px;height:442px;padding:0; margin:0em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap VI. &quot;My Smoking-Table&quot;" /> Had it not been
+ for a bootblack at Charing Cross I should probably never have bought the
+ smoking-table. I had to pass that boy every morning. In vain did I scowl
+ at him, or pass with my head to the side. He always pointed derisively (as
+ I thought) at my boots. Probably my boots were speckless, but that made no
+ difference; he jeered and sneered. I have never hated any one as I loathed
+ that boy, and to escape him I took to going round by the Lowther Arcade.
+ It was here that my eye fell on the smoking-table. In the Lowther Arcade,
+ if the attendants catch you looking <span class="pagenum"><a id="page46"
+ name="page46"></a></span> at any article for a fraction of a
+ second, it is done up in brown paper, you have paid your money, and they
+ have taken down your address before you realize that you don't want
+ anything. In this way I became the owner of my smoking-table, and when I
+ saw it in a brown-paper parcel on my return to my chambers I could not
+ think what it was until I cut the strings. Such a little gem of a table no
+ smokers should be without; and I am not ashamed to say that I was in love
+ with mine as soon as I had fixed the pieces together. It was of walnut,
+ and consisted mainly of a stalk and two round slabs not much bigger than
+ dinner-plates. There were holes in the centre of these slabs for the stalk
+ to go through, and the one slab stood two feet from the floor, the other a
+ foot higher. The lower slab was fitted with a walnut tobacco-jar and a
+ pipe-rack, while on the upper slab were exquisite little recesses for
+ cigars, cigarettes, matches, and ashes. These held respectively three
+ cigars, two cigarettes, and four wax vestas. The smoking-table was an
+ ornament to any room; and the first night I had it I raised my eyes from
+ my book to look at it every few minutes. I got all my pipes together and
+ put them in the rack; I filled the jar with tobacco, the recesses with
+ three cigars, two cigarettes, <span class="pagenum"><a id="page47"
+ name="page47"></a></span> and four matches; and then I thought I
+ would have a smoke. I swept my hand confidently along the mantelpiece, but
+ it did not stop at a pipe. I rose and looked for a pipe. I had half a
+ dozen, but not one was to be seen&mdash;none on the mantelpiece, none on
+ the window-sill, none on the hearth-rug, none being used as book-markers.
+ I tugged at the bell till William John came in quaking, and then I asked
+ him fiercely what he had done with my pipes. I was so obviously not to be
+ trifled with that William John, as we called him, because some thought his
+ name was William, while others thought it was John, very soon handed me my
+ favorite pipe, which he found in the rack on the smoking-table. This
+ incident illustrates one of the very few drawbacks of smoking-tables. Not
+ being used to them, you forget about them. William John, however, took the
+ greatest pride in the table, and whenever he saw a pipe lying on the rug
+ he pounced upon it and placed it, like a prisoner, in the rack. He was
+ also most particular about the three cigars, the two cigarettes, and the
+ four wax vestas, keeping them carefully in the proper compartments, where,
+ unfortunately, I seldom thought of looking for them.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The fatal defect of the smoking-table, however, <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page48" name="page48"></a></span> <a name="image-ch06-1"
+ id="image-ch06-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch06-1.png"
+ style="float:left;width:150px;height:418px;padding: 0; margin: .5em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="&quot;Sometimes I had knocked it over accidentally&quot;" /> was that
+ it was generally rolling about the floor&mdash;the stalk in one corner,
+ the slabs here and there, the cigars on the rug to be trampled on, the lid
+ of the tobacco-jar beneath a chair. Every morning William John had to put
+ the table together. Sometimes I had knocked it over accidentally. I would
+ fling a crumpled piece of paper into the waste-paper basket. It missed the
+ basket but hit the smoking-table, which went down like a wooden soldier.
+ When my fire went out, just because I had taken my eyes off it for a
+ moment, I called it names and flung the tongs at it. There was a crash&mdash;the
+ smoking-table again. <span class="pagenum"><a id="page49" name="page49"></a>
+ </span> In time I might have remedied this; but there is one weakness
+ which I could not stand in any smoking-table. A smoking-table ought to be
+ so constructed that from where you are sitting you can stretch out your
+ feet, twist them round the stalk, and so lift the table to the spot where
+ it will be handiest. This my smoking-table would never do. The moment I
+ had it in the air it wanted to stand on its head.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Though I still admired smoking-tables as much as ever, I began to want
+ very much to give this one away. The difficulty was not so much to know
+ whom to give it to as how to tie it up. My brother was the very person,
+ for I owed him a letter, and this, I thought, would do instead. For a
+ month I meant to pack the table up and send it to him; but I always put
+ off doing it, and at last I thought the best plan would be to give it to
+ Scrymgeour, who liked elegant furniture. As a smoker, Scrymgeour seemed
+ the very man to appreciate a pretty, useful little table. Besides, all I
+ had to do was to send William John down with it. Scrymgeour was out at the
+ time; but we left it at the side of his fireplace as a pleasant surprise.
+ Next morning, to my indignation, it was back at the side of my fireplace,
+ and in the evening Scrymgeour came and upbraided me for trying, <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page50" name="page50"></a></span> as he most
+ unworthily expressed it, "to palm the thing off on him." He was no sooner
+ gone than I took the table to pieces to send it to my brother. I tied the
+ stalk up in brown paper, meaning to get a box for the other parts. William
+ John sent off the stalk, and for some days the other pieces littered the
+ floor. My brother wrote me saying he had received something from me, for
+ which his best thanks; but would I tell him what it was, as it puzzled
+ everybody? This was his impatient way; but I made an effort, and sent off
+ the other pieces to him in a hat-box.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ That was a year ago, and since then I have only heard the history of the
+ smoking-table in fragments. My brother liked it immensely; but he thought
+ it was too luxurious for a married man, so he sent it to Reynolds, in
+ Edinburgh. Not knowing Reynolds, I cannot say what his opinion was; but
+ soon afterward I heard of its being in the possession of Grayson, who was
+ charmed with it, but gave it to Pelle, because it was hardly in its place
+ in a bachelor's establishment. Later a town man sent it to a country
+ gentleman as just the thing for the country; and it was afterward in
+ Liverpool as the very thing for a town. There I thought it was lost, so
+ far as I was concerned. <span class="pagenum"><a id="page51" name="page51"></a>
+ </span> One day, however, Boyd, a friend of mine who lives in Glasgow,
+ came to me for a week, and about six hours afterward he said that he had a
+ present for me. He brought it into my sitting-room&mdash;a bulky parcel&mdash;and
+ while he was undoing the cords he told me it was something quite novel; he
+ had bought it in Glasgow the day before. When I saw a walnut leg I
+ started; in another two minutes I was trying to thank Boyd for my own
+ smoking-table. I recognized it by the dents. I was too much the gentleman
+ to insist on an explanation from Boyd; but, though it seems a harsh thing
+ to say, my opinion is that these different persons gave the table away
+ because they wanted to get rid of it. William John has it now.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch06-t" id="image-ch06-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch06-t.png" style="width:400px;height:290px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. VI." />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page52" name="page52"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0007" id="h2HCH0007">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER VII.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ GILRAY.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch07-h" id="image-ch07-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch07-ha.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:150px;height:424px;padding:0;margin:0em 1em 0em 0em;"
+ alt="|Headpiece Chap. VII. &quot;We met first in the Merediths' house-boat&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch07-hb.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:341px;height:119px;padding:0;margin:0em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="|Headpiece Chap. VII. &quot;We met first in the Merediths' house-boat&quot;" />
+ Gilray is an actor, whose life I may be said to have strangely influenced,
+ for it was I who brought him and the Arcadia Mixture together. After that
+ his coming to live on our stair was only a matter of rooms being vacant.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ We met first in the Merediths' house-boat, the <i>Tawny Owl</i>, which was
+ then lying at Molesey. Gilray, as I soon saw, was a man trying to be
+ miserable, and finding it the hardest task in life. It is strange that the
+ philosophers have never hit upon this profound truth. No man ever tried
+ harder to be unhappy than Gilray; but the luck was <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page53" name="page53"></a></span> against him, and he was
+ always forgetting himself. Mark Tapley succeeded in being jolly in adverse
+ circumstances; Gilray failed, on the whole, in being miserable in a
+ delightful house-boat. It is, however, so much more difficult to keep up
+ misery than jollity that I like to think of his attempt as what the
+ dramatic critics call a <i>succès d'estime</i>.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The <i>Tawny Owl</i> lay on the far side of the island. There were ladies
+ in it; and Gilray's misery was meant to date from the moment when he asked
+ one of them a question, and she said "No." Gilray was strangely unlucky
+ during the whole of his time on board. His evil genius was there, though
+ there was very little room for him, and played sad pranks. Up to the time
+ of his asking the question referred to, Gilray meant to create a pleasant
+ impression by being jolly, and he only succeeded in being as depressing as
+ Jaques. Afterward he was to be unutterably miserable; and it was all he
+ could do to keep himself at times from whirling about in waltz tune. But
+ then the nearest boat had a piano on board, and some one was constantly
+ playing dance music. Gilray had an idea that it would have been the proper
+ thing to leave Molesey when she said "No;" and he would have done so had
+ not the barbel-fishing been <span class="pagenum"><a id="page54"
+ name="page54"></a></span> so good. The barbel-fishing was
+ altogether unfortunate&mdash;at least Gilray's passion for it was. I have
+ thought&mdash;and so sometimes has Gilray&mdash;that if it had not been
+ for a barbel she might not have said "No." He was fishing from the
+ house-boat when he asked the question. You know how you fish from a
+ house-boat. The line is flung into the water and the rod laid down on
+ deck. You keep an eye on it. Barbel-fishing, in fact, reminds one of the
+ independent sort of man who is quite willing to play host to you, but
+ wishes you clearly to understand at the same time that he can do without
+ you. "Glad to see you with us if you have nothing better to do; but please
+ yourself," is what he says to his friends. This is also the form of
+ invitation to barbel. Now it happened that she and Gilray were left alone
+ in the house-boat. It was evening; some Chinese lanterns had been lighted,
+ and Gilray, though you would not think it to look at him, is romantic. He
+ cast his line, and, turning to his companion, asked her the question. From
+ what he has told me he asked it very properly, and all seemed to be going
+ well. She turned away her head (which is said not to be a bad sign) and
+ had begun to reply, when a woful thing happened. The line stiffened, and
+ there was a whirl of the reel. Who can withstand <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page55" name="page55"></a></span> that music? You can ask a
+ question at any time, but, even at Molesey, barbel are only to be got now
+ and then. Gilray rushed to his rod and began playing the fish. He called
+ to his companion to get the landing-net. She did so; and after playing his
+ barbel for ten minutes Gilray landed it. Then he turned to her again, and
+ she said, "No."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Gilray sees now that he made a mistake in not departing that night by the
+ last train. He overestimated his strength. However, we had something to do
+ with his staying on, and he persuaded himself that he remained just to
+ show her that she had ruined his life. Once, I believe, he repeated his
+ question; but in reply she only asked him if he had caught any more
+ barbel. Considering the surprisingly fine weather, the barbel-fishing, and
+ the piano on the other boat, Gilray was perhaps as miserable as could
+ reasonably have been expected. Where he ought to have scored best,
+ however, he was most unlucky. She had a hammock swung between two trees,
+ close to the boat, and there she lay, holding a novel in her hand. From
+ the hammock she had a fine view of the deck, and this was Gilray's chance.
+ As soon as he saw her comfortably settled, he pulled a long face and
+ climbed on deck. There he walked up and <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page56" name="page56"></a></span> down, trying to look the
+ image of despair. When she made some remark to him, his plan was to show
+ that, though he answered cordially, his cheerfulness was the result of a
+ terrible inward struggle. He did contrive to accomplish this if he was
+ waiting for her observation; but she sometimes took him unawares, starting
+ a subject in which he was interested. Then, forgetting his character, he
+ would talk eagerly or jest with her across the strip of water, until with
+ a start he remembered what he had become. He would seek to recover himself
+ after that; but of course it was too late to create a really lasting
+ impression. Even when she left him alone, watching him, I fear, over the
+ top of her novel, he disappointed himself. For five minutes or so
+ everything would go well; he looked as dejected as possible; but as he
+ fell he was succeeding he became so self-satisfied that he began to strut.
+ A pleased expression crossed his face, and instead of allowing his head to
+ hang dismally, he put it well back. Sometimes, when we wanted to please
+ him, we said he looked as glum as a mute at a funeral. Even that, however,
+ defeated his object, for it flattered him so much that he smiled with
+ gratification.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Gilray made one great sacrifice by giving up <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page57" name="page57"></a></span> smoking, though not indeed
+ such a sacrifice as mine, for up to this time he did not know the Arcadia
+ Mixture. Perhaps the only time he really did look as miserable as he
+ wished was <a name="image-ch07-1" id="image-ch07-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch07-1a.png"
+ style="float: right; width:137px; padding: 0; margin:.5em 0em 0em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;He 'strode away blowing great clouds into the air,'&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch07-1b.png"
+ style="float: right; clear:right; width:200px; padding:0; margin: 0em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;He 'strode away blowing great clouds into the air,'&quot;" />
+ late at night when we men sat up for a second last pipe before turning in.
+ He looked wistfully at us from a corner. Yet as She had gone to rest,
+ cruel fate made this of little account. His gloomy face saddened us too,
+ and we tried to entice him to shame by promising not to mention it to the
+ ladies. He almost yielded, and showed us that while we smoked he had been
+ holding his empty brier in his right hand. For a moment he hesitated, then
+ said fiercely that he did not care for smoking. Next night he was shown a
+ novel, the hero of which had been "refused." Though the lady's
+ hard-heartedness had a terrible effect on this fine fellow, he "strode
+ away blowing great clouds into the air." "Standing there smoking in the
+ moonlight," the authoress says in her next chapter, "De Courcy was a
+ strangely romantic figure. He looked like a man who had done everything,
+ who had been through the <span class="pagenum"><a id="page58" name="page58"></a>
+ </span> furnace and had not come out of it unscathed." This was
+ precisely what Gilray wanted to look like. Again he hesitated, and then
+ put his pipe in his pocket.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It was now that I approached him with the Arcadia Mixture. I seldom
+ recommend the Arcadia to men whom I do not know intimately, lest in the
+ after-years I should find them unworthy of it. But just as Aladdin
+ doubtless rubbed his lamp at times for show, there were occasions when I
+ was ostentatiously liberal. If, after trying the Arcadia, the lucky smoker
+ to whom I presented it did not start or seize my hand, or otherwise show
+ that something exquisite had come into his life, I at once forgot his name
+ and his existence. I approached Gilray, then, and without a word handed
+ him my pouch, while the others drew nearer. Nothing was to be heard but
+ the water oozing out and in beneath the house-boat. Gilray pushed the
+ tobacco from him, as he might have pushed a bag of diamonds that he
+ mistook for pebbles. I placed it against his arm, and motioned to the
+ others not to look. Then I sat down beside Gilray, and almost smoked into
+ his eyes. Soon the aroma reached him, and rapture struggled into his face.
+ Slowly his fingers fastened on the pouch. He filled his pipe without
+ knowing <span class="pagenum"><a id="page59" name="page59"></a></span>
+ what he was doing, and I handed him a lighted spill. He took perhaps three
+ puffs, and then gave me a look of reverence that I know well. It only
+ comes to a man once in all its glory&mdash;the first time he tries the
+ Arcadia Mixture&mdash;but it never altogether leaves him.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "Where do you get it?" Gilray whispered, in hoarse delight.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The Arcadia had him for its own.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch07-t" id="image-ch07-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch07-t.png" style="width:400px;height:407px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. VII. &quot;The Arcadia had him for its own&quot;" />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page60" name="page60"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0008" id="h2HCH0008">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch08-h" id="image-ch08-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch08-ha.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left; width:322px;padding:0;margin:0em 1em 0em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. VIII. &quot;I let him talk on&quot;" /> <img
+ src="images/ch08-hb.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left; width:150px; padding:0em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. VIII. &quot;I let him talk on&quot;" />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &nbsp;
+ </p>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER VIII.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ MARRIOT.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ &nbsp;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I have hinted that Marriot was our sentimental member. He was seldom
+ sentimental until after midnight, and then only when he and I were alone.
+ Why he should have chosen me as the pail into which to pour his troubles I
+ cannot say. I let him talk on, and when he had ended I showed him plainly
+ that I had been thinking most of the time about something else. Whether
+ Marriot was entirely a humbug or the most conscientious person on our
+ stair, readers may decide. He was fond of argument if you did not answer
+ him, and often wanted me to tell him if I thought he was in love; if so,
+ why did I think so; if not, why not. What makes me on reflection fancy
+ that he was sincere is that in his statements he would let his pipe go
+ out.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Of course I cannot give his words, <span class="pagenum"><a id="page61"
+ name="page61"></a></span> but he would wait till all my other
+ guests had gone, then softly lock the door, and returning to the cane
+ chair empty himself in some such way as this:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "I have something I want to talk to you about. Pass me a spill. Well, it
+ is this. Before I came to your rooms to-night I was cleaning my pipe, when
+ all at once it struck me that I might be in love. This is the kind of
+ shock that pulls a man up and together. My first thought was, if it be
+ love, well and good; I shall go on. As a gentleman I know my duty both to
+ her and to myself. At present, however, I am not certain which she is. In
+ love there are no degrees; of that at least I feel positive. It is a
+ tempestuous, surging passion, or it is nothing. The question for me,
+ therefore, is, Is this the beginning of a tempestuous, surging passion?
+ But stop; does such a passion have a beginning? Should it not be in flood
+ before we know what we are about? I don't want you to answer.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "One of my difficulties is that I cannot reason from experience. I cannot
+ say to myself, During the spring of 1886, and again in October, 1888, your
+ breast has known the insurgence of a tempestuous passion. Do you now note
+ the same symptoms? Have you experienced a <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page62" name="page62"></a></span> sudden sinking at the heart,
+ followed by thrills of exultation? Now I cannot even say that my appetite
+ has fallen off, but I am smoking <a name="image-ch08-1" id="image-ch08-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch08-1.png"
+ style="float:left;width:150px;height:59px;padding:0;margin:.5em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="Pipes and jar of spills" /> more than ever, and it is notorious that I
+ experience sudden chills and thrills. Is this passion? No, I am not done;
+ I have only begun.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch08-2" id="image-ch08-2">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch08-2.png"
+ style="float:right;width:150px;height:74px;padding:0;margin:.5em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="Pipes and jar of spills" /> "In 'As You Like It,' you remember, the
+ love symptoms are described at length. But is <i>Rosalind</i> to be taken
+ seriously? Besides, though she wore boy's clothes, she had only the
+ woman's point of view. I have consulted Stevenson's chapters on love in
+ his delightful 'Virginibus Puerisque,' and one of them says, 'Certainly,
+ if I could help it, I would never marry a wife who wrote.' Then I noticed
+ a book published after that one, and entitled 'The New Arabian Nights, by
+ Mr. and Mrs. Robert Louis Stevenson.' I shut 'Virginibus Puerisque' with a
+ sigh, and put it away.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch08-3" id="image-ch08-3">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch08-3.png"
+ style="float:left;width:150px;height:124px;padding:0;margin:.5em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="Pipes and jar of spills" /> "But this inquiry need not, I feel
+ confident, lead to nothing. Negatively I know love; for I do not require
+ to be told what it is not, and I have my ideal. Putting my knowledge <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page63" name="page63"></a></span> together
+ and surveying it dispassionately in the mass, I am inclined to think that
+ this is really love.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch08-4" id="image-ch08-4">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch08-4.png"
+ style="float:right;width:50px;height:225px;padding:0;margin:.5em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="Pipes and jar of spills" /> "I may lay down as Proposition I. that
+ surging, tempestuous passion comes involuntarily. You are heart-whole,
+ when, as it were, the gates of your bosom open, in she sweeps, and the
+ gates close. So far this is a faithful description of my case. Whatever it
+ is, it came without any desire or volition on my part, and it looks as if
+ it meant to stay. What I ask myself is&mdash;first, What is it? secondly,
+ Where is it? thirdly, Who is it? and fourthly, What shall I do with it? I
+ have thus my work cut out for me.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "What is it? I reply that I am stumped at once, unless I am allowed to <a
+ name="image-ch08-5" id="image-ch08-5">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch08-5.png"
+ style="float:left;width:200px;height:34px;padding:0;margin:.5em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="Pipes and jar of spills" /> fix upon an object definitely and
+ precisely. This, no doubt, is arguing in a circle; but Descartes himself
+ assumed what he was to try to prove. This, then, being permitted, I have
+ chosen my object, and we can now go on again. What is it? Some might <a
+ name="image-ch08-6" id="image-ch08-6">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch08-6.png"
+ style="float:right;width:150px;height:55px;padding:0;margin:.5em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="Pipes and jar of spills" /> evade the difficulty by taking a middle
+ course. You are not, they might say, in love <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page64" name="page64"></a></span> as yet, but you are on the
+ brink of it. The lady is no idol to you at present, but neither is she
+ indifferent. You would not walk four miles in wet weather to get a rose
+ from her; but if she did present you with a rose, you would not wittingly
+ drop it down an area. In short, you have all but lost your heart. To this
+ I reply simply, love is not a process, it is an event. You may
+ unconsciously be on the brink of it, when all at once the ground gives way
+ beneath you, and in you go. The difference between love and not-love, if I
+ may be allowed the word, being so wide, my inquiry should produce decisive
+ results. On the whole, therefore, and in the absence of direct proof to
+ the contrary, I believe that the passion of love does possess me.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch08-7" id="image-ch08-7">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch08-7.png" style="width:400px;height:152px;"
+ alt="Tray of pipes and cigars" />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ "Where is it? This is the simplest question of the four. It is in the
+ heart. It fills the heart to overflowing, so that if there were one drop
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page65" name="page65"></a></span> more
+ the heart would run over. Love is thus plainly a liquid: which accounts to
+ some extent for its well-recognized habit of surging. Among its effects
+ this may be noted: that it makes you miserable if you be not by the loved
+ one's side. To hold her hand is ecstasy, to press it, rapture. The fond
+ lover&mdash;as it might be myself&mdash;sees his beloved depart on a
+ railway journey with apprehension. He never ceases to remember that
+ engines burst and trains run off the line. In an agony he awaits the
+ telegram that tells him she has reached Shepherd's Bush in safety. When he
+ sees her talking, as if she liked it, to another man, he is torn, he is
+ rent asunder, he is dismembered by jealousy. He walks beneath her window
+ till the policeman sees him home; and when he wakes in the morning, it is
+ to murmur her name to himself until he falls asleep again and is late for
+ the office. Well, do I experience such sensations, or do I not? Is this
+ love, after all? Where are the spills?
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "I have been taking for granted that I know who it is. But is this wise?
+ Nothing puzzles me so much as the way some men seem to know, by intuition,
+ as it were, which is the woman for whom they have a passion. They take a
+ girl from among their acquaintance, and never seem to understand that they
+ may be taking <span class="pagenum"><a id="page66" name="page66"></a>
+ </span> the wrong one. However, with certain reservations, I do not
+ think I go too far in saying that I know who she is. There is one other,
+ indeed, that I have sometimes thought&mdash;but it fortunately happens
+ that they are related, so that in any case I cannot go far wrong. After I
+ have seen them again, or at least before I propose, I shall decide
+ definitely on this point.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "We have now advanced as far as Query IV. Now, what is to be done? Let us
+ consider this calmly. In the first place, have I any option in the matter,
+ or is love a hurricane that carries one hither and thither as a bottle is
+ tossed in a chopping sea? I reply that it all depends on myself. Rosalind
+ would say no; that we are without control over love. But Rosalind was a
+ woman. It is probably true that a woman cannot conquer love. Man, being
+ her ideal in the abstract, is irresistible to her in the concrete. But
+ man, being an intellectual creature, can make a magnificent effort and
+ cast love out. Should I think it advisable, I do not question my ability
+ to open the gates of my heart and bid her go. That would be a serious
+ thing for her; and, as man is powerful, so, I think, should he be
+ merciful. She has, no doubt, gained admittance, as it were, furtively; but
+ can I, as a gentleman, send away a weak, confiding woman who loves me
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page67" name="page67"></a></span>
+ simply because she cannot help it? Nay, more, in a pathetic case of this
+ kind, have I not a certain responsibility? Does not her attachment to me
+ give her a claim upon me? She saw me, and love came to her. She looks upon
+ me as the noblest and best of my sex. I do not say I am; it may be that I
+ am not. But I have the child's happiness in my hands; can I trample it
+ beneath my feet? It seems to be my plain duty to take her to me.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "But there are others to consider. For me, would it not be the better part
+ to show her that the greatest happiness of the greatest number should be
+ my first consideration? Certainly there is nothing in a man I despise more
+ than conceit in affairs of this sort. When I hear one of my sex boasting
+ of his 'conquests,' I turn from him in disgust. 'Conquest' implies effort;
+ and to lay one's self out for victories over the other sex always reminds
+ me of pigeon-shooting. On the other hand, we must make allowances for our
+ position of advantage. These little ones come into contact with us; they
+ see us, athletic, beautiful, in the hunting-field or at the wicket; they
+ sit beside us at dinner and listen to our brilliant conversation. They
+ have met us, and the mischief is done. Every man&mdash;except, perhaps,
+ yourself and Jimmy&mdash;knows <span class="pagenum"><a id="page68"
+ name="page68"></a></span> the names of a few dear girls who have
+ lost their hearts to him&mdash;some more, some less. I do not pretend to
+ be in a different position from my neighbors, or in a better one. To some
+ <a name="image-ch08-8" id="image-ch08-8">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch08-8.png"
+ style="float:left;width:150px;height:273px;padding: 0; margin: .5em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="&quot;I would ... light him to his sleeping-chamber with a spill&quot;" />
+ slight extent I may be to blame. But, after all, when a man sees cheeks
+ redden and eyes brighten at his approach, he loses prudence. At the time
+ he does not think what may be the consequences. But the day comes when he
+ sees that he must take heed what he is about. He communes with himself
+ about the future, and if he be a man of honor he maps out in his mind the
+ several courses it is allowed him to follow, and chooses that one which he
+ may tread with least pain to others. May that day for introspection come
+ to few as it has <span class="pagenum"><a id="page69" name="page69"></a>
+ </span> come to me. Love is, indeed, a madness in the brain.
+ Good-night."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ When he finished I would wake up, open the door for Marriot, and light him
+ to his sleeping-chamber with a spill.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch08-t" id="image-ch08-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch08-t.png" style="width:400px;height:102px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. VIII." />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page70" name="page70"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0009" id="h2HCH0009">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch09-h" id="image-ch09-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch09-h.png" style="width:400px;height:260px;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. IX. &quot;The stem was a long cherry-wood&quot;" />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER IX.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ JIMMY.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ With the exception of myself, Jimmy Moggridge was no doubt the most silent
+ of the company that met so frequently in my rooms. Just as Marriot's
+ eyebrows rose if the cane chair was not empty when he strode in, Jimmy
+ held that he had a right to the hearth-rug, on which he loved to lie
+ prone, his back turned to the company and his eyes on his pipe. The stem
+ was a long cherry-wood, but the bowl was meerschaum, and Jimmy, as he
+ smoked, lay on the alert, as it were, to see the meerschaum coloring.
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page71" name="page71"></a></span> So
+ one may strain his eyes with intent eagerness until he can catch the
+ hour-hand of a watch in action. With tobacco in his pocket Jimmy could
+ refill his pipe without moving, <a name="image-ch09-1" id="image-ch09-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch09-1.png"
+ style="float:right;width:150px;height:262px;padding: 0; margin: .5em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;In time ... the Arcadia Mixture made him more and more like the rest of us&quot;" />
+ but sometimes he crawled along the hearth-rug to let the fire-light play
+ more exquisitely on his meerschaum bowl. In time, of course, the Arcadia
+ Mixture made him more and more like the rest of us, but he retained his
+ individuality until he let his bowl fall off. Otherwise he only differed
+ from us in one way. When he saw a match-box he always extracted a few
+ matches and put them dreamily into his pocket. There were times when, with
+ a sharp blow on Jimmy's person, we could doubtless have had him blazing
+ like a chandelier.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Jimmy was a barrister&mdash;though this is scarcely worth mentioning&mdash;and
+ it had been known to us for years that he made a living by <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page72" name="page72"></a></span>
+ contributing to the <i>Saturday Review</i>. How the secret leaked out I
+ cannot say with certainty. Jimmy never forced it upon us, and I cannot
+ remember any paragraphs in the London correspondence of the provincial
+ papers coupling his name with <i>Saturday</i> articles. On the other hand,
+ I distinctly recall having to wait one day in his chambers while Jimmy was
+ shaving, and noticing accidentally a long, bulky envelope on his table,
+ with the <i>Saturday Review's</i> mystic crest on it. It was addressed to
+ Jimmy, and contained, I concluded, a bundle of proofs. That was so long
+ ago as 1885. If further evidence is required, there is the undoubted fact,
+ to which several of us could take oath, that, at Oxford, Jimmy was
+ notorious for his sarcastic pen&mdash;nearly being sent down, indeed, for
+ the same. Again, there was the certainty that for years Jimmy had been
+ engaged upon literary work of some kind. We had been with him buying the
+ largest-sized scribbling paper in the market; we had heard him muttering
+ to himself as if in pain: and we had seen him correcting proof-sheets.
+ When we caught him at them he always thrust the proofs into a drawer which
+ he locked by putting his leg on it&mdash;for the ordinary lock was broken&mdash;and
+ remaining in that position till we had retired. Though he rather <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page73" name="page73"></a></span> shunned
+ the subject as a rule, he admitted to us that the work was journalism and
+ not a sarcastic history of the nineteenth century, on which we felt he
+ would come out strong. Lastly, Jimmy had lost the brightness of his youth,
+ and was become silent and moody, which is well known to be the result of
+ writing satire.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Were it not so notorious that the thousands who write regularly for the <i>Saturday</i>
+ have reasons of their own for keeping it dark and merely admitting the
+ impeachment with a nod or smile, we might have marvelled at Jimmy's
+ reticence. There were, however, moments when he thawed so far as
+ practically to allow, and every one knows what that means, that the <i>Saturday</i>
+ was his chief source of income. "Only," he would add, "should you be
+ acquainted with the editor, don't mention my contributions to him." From
+ this we saw that Jimmy and the editor had an understanding on the subject,
+ though we were never agreed which of them it was who had sworn the other
+ to secrecy. We were proud of Jimmy's connection with the press, and every
+ week we discussed his latest article. Jimmy never told us, except in a
+ roundabout way, which were his articles; but we knew his style, and it was
+ quite exhilarating to pick out his contributions week by week. We were
+ never baffled, <span class="pagenum"><a id="page74" name="page74"></a>
+ </span> <a name="image-ch09-2" id="image-ch09-2">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch09-2.png"
+ style="float:left;width:150px;height:470px;margin: .5em 1em .5em 0em; padding: 0;"
+ alt="&quot;A score of smaller letters were tumbling about my feet&quot;" />
+ for "Jimmy's touches" were unmistakable; and "Have you seen Jimmy this
+ week in the <i>Saturday</i> on Lewis Morris?" or, "I say, do you think
+ Buchanan knows it was Jimmy who wrote that?" was what we said when we had
+ lighted our pipes.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Now I come to the incident that drew from Jimmy his extraordinary
+ statement. I was smoking with him in his rooms one evening, when a clatter
+ at his door was followed by a thud on the floor. I knew as well as Jimmy
+ what had happened. In his pre-<i>Saturday</i> days he had no letter-box,
+ only a slit in the door; and through this we used to denounce him on
+ certain occasions when we called and he would not let us in. Lately,
+ however, he had fitted up a letter-box himself, which kept together if you
+ opened the door gently, but came clattering to the floor under <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page75" name="page75"></a></span> the weight
+ of heavy letters. The letter to which it had succumbed this evening was
+ quite a package, and could even have been used as a missile. Jimmy
+ snatched it up quickly, evidently knowing the contents by their bulk; and
+ I was just saying to myself, "More proofs from the <i>Saturday</i>," when
+ the letter burst at the bottom, and in a moment a score of smaller letters
+ were tumbling about my feet. In vain did Jimmy entreat me to let him
+ gather them up. I helped, and saw, to my bewilderment, that all the
+ letters were addressed in childish hands to "Uncle Jim, care of Editor of
+ <i>Mothers Pets</i>." It was impossible that Jimmy could have so many
+ nephews and nieces.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Seeing that I had him, Jimmy advanced to the hearth-rug as if about to
+ make his statement; then changed his mind and, thrusting a dozen of the
+ letters into my hands, invited me to read. The first letter ran: "Dearest
+ Uncle Jim,&mdash;I must tell you about my canary. I love my canary very
+ much. It is a yellow canary, and it sings so sweetly. I keep it in a cage,
+ and it is so tame. Mamma and me wishes you would come and see us and our
+ canary. Dear Uncle Jim, I love you.&mdash;Your little friend, Milly (aged
+ four years)." Here is the second: "Dear Uncle Jim,&mdash;You will want to
+ know <span class="pagenum"><a id="page76" name="page76"></a></span>
+ about my blackbird. It sits in a tree and picks up the crumbs on the
+ window, and Thomas wants to shoot it for eating the cherries; but I won't
+ let Thomas shoot it, for it is a nice blackbird, and I have wrote all this
+ myself.&mdash;Your loving little Bobby (aged five years)." In another,
+ Jacky (aged four and a half) described his parrot, and I have also vague
+ recollections of Harry (aged six) on his chaffinch, and Archie (five) on
+ his linnet. "What does it mean?" I demanded of Jimmy, who, while I read,
+ had been smoking savagely. "Don't you see that they are in for the prize?"
+ he growled. Then he made his statement.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "I have never," Jimmy said, "contributed to the <i>Saturday</i>, nor,
+ indeed, to any well-known paper. That, however, was only because the
+ editors would not meet me half-way. After many disappointments, fortune&mdash;whether
+ good or bad I cannot say&mdash;introduced me to the editor of <i>Mothers
+ Pets</i>, a weekly journal whose title sufficiently suggests its
+ character. Though you may never have heard of it, <i>Mothers Pets</i> has
+ a wide circulation and is a great property. I was asked to join the staff
+ under the name of 'Uncle Jim,' and did not see my way to refuse. I
+ inaugurated a new feature. Mothers' pets were cordially invited to
+ correspond with me on <span class="pagenum"><a id="page77" name="page77"></a>
+ </span> topics to be suggested week by week, and prizes were to be
+ given for the best letters. This feature has been an enormous success, and
+ I get the most affectionate letters from mothers, consulting me about
+ teething and the like, every week. They say that I am dearer to their
+ children than most real uncles, and they often urge me to go and stay with
+ them. There are lots of kisses awaiting me. I also get similar invitations
+ from the little beasts themselves. Pass the Arcadia."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch09-t" id="image-ch09-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch09-t.png" style="width:400px;height:555px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. IX. &quot;Mothers' pets&quot;" />
+ </div>
+ <!-- <hr class="full" /> -->
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page78" name="page78"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0010" id="h2HCH0010">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch10-h" id="image-ch10-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch10-h.png" style="width:400px;height:537px;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. X. &quot;Scrymgeour was an artist&quot;" />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER X.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ SCRYMGEOUR.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ Scrymgeour was an artist and a man of means, so proud of his profession
+ that he gave all his pictures fancy prices, and so wealthy that he could
+ have bought them. To him I went when I wanted money&mdash;though it must
+ not be thought that I borrowed. In the days of the Arcadia Mixture I had
+ no bank account. As <span class="pagenum"><a id="page79" name="page79"></a>
+ </span> my checks dribbled in I stuffed them into a torn leather case
+ that was kept together by a piece of twine, and when Want tapped at my
+ chamber door, I drew out the check that seemed most willing to come, and
+ exchanged with Scrymgeour. In his detestation of argument Scrymgeour
+ resembled myself, but otherwise we differed as much as men may differ who
+ smoke the Arcadia. He read little, yet surprised us by a smattering of
+ knowledge about all important books that had been out for a few months,
+ until we discovered that he got his information from a friend in India. He
+ had also, I remember, a romantic notion that Africa might be civilized by
+ the Arcadia Mixture. As I shall explain presently, his devotion to the
+ Arcadia very nearly married him against his will; but first I must
+ describe his boudoir.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ We always called it Scrymgeour's boudoir after it had ceased to deserve
+ the censure, just as we called Moggridge Jimmy because he was Jimmy to
+ some of us as a boy. Scrymgeour deserted his fine rooms in Bayswater for
+ the inn some months after the Arcadia Mixture had reconstructed him, but
+ his chambers were the best on our stair, and with the help of a workman
+ from the Japanese Village he converted them into an Oriental dream. Our
+ housekeeper <span class="pagenum"><a id="page80" name="page80"></a></span>
+ thought little of the rest of us while the boudoir was there to be gazed
+ at, and even William John would not spill the coffee in it. When the
+ boudoir was ready for inspection, Scrymgeour led me to it, and as the door
+ opened I suddenly remembered that my boots were muddy. The ceiling was a
+ great Japanese Christmas card representing the heavens; heavy clouds
+ floated round a pale moon, and with the dusk the stars came out. The
+ walls, instead of being papered, were hung with a soft Japanese cloth, and
+ fantastic figures frolicked round a fireplace that held a bamboo fan.
+ There was no mantelpiece. The room was very small; but when you wanted a
+ blue velvet desk to write on, you had only to press a spring against the
+ wall; and if you leaned upon the desk the Japanese workmen were ready to
+ make you a new one. There were springs everywhere, shaped like birds and
+ mice and butterflies; and when you touched one of them something was sure
+ to come out. Blood-colored curtains separated the room from the alcove
+ where Scrymgeour was to rest by night, and his bed became a bath by simply
+ turning it upside down. On one side of the bed was a wine-bin, with a
+ ladder running up to it. The door of the sitting-room was a symphony in
+ gray, with shadowy reptiles crawling across the <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page81" name="page81"></a></span> panels; and the floor&mdash;dark,
+ mysterious&mdash;presented a fanciful picture of the infernal regions.
+ Scrymgeour said hopefully that the place would look cozier after he had
+ his pictures in it; but he stopped me when I began to fill my pipe. <a
+ name="image-ch10-1" id="image-ch10-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch10-1.png"
+ style="float:right;width:150px;height:337px;padding: 0; margin: .5em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;With shadowy reptiles crawling across the panels&quot;" /> He
+ believed, he said, that smoking was not a Japanese custom; and there was
+ no use taking Japanese chambers unless you lived up to them. Here was a
+ revelation. Scrymgeour proposed to live his life in harmony with these
+ rooms. I felt too sad at heart to say much to him then, but, promising to
+ look in again soon, I shook hands with my unhappy friend and went away.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It happened, however, that Scrymgeour had been several times in my rooms
+ before I was able to visit him again. My hand was on his door-bell when I
+ noticed a figure I thought I knew lounging at the foot of the stair. It
+ was Scrymgeour <span class="pagenum"><a id="page82" name="page82"></a>
+ </span> himself, and he was smoking the Arcadia. We greeted each other
+ languidly on the doorstep, Scrymgeour assuring me that "Japan in London"
+ was a grand idea. It gave a zest to life, banishing the poor, weary
+ conventionalities of one's surroundings. This was said while we still
+ stood at the door, and I began to wonder why Scrymgeour did not enter his
+ rooms. "A beautiful night," he said, rapturously. A cruel east wind was
+ blowing. He insisted that evening was the time for thinking, and that east
+ winds brace you up. Would I have a cigar? I would if he asked me inside to
+ smoke it. My friend sighed. "I thought I told you," he said, "that I don't
+ smoke in my chambers. It isn't the thing." Then he explained,
+ hesitatingly, that he hadn't given up smoking. "I come down here," he
+ said, "with my pipe, and walk up and down. I assure you it is quite a new
+ sensation, and I much prefer it to lolling in an easy-chair." The poor
+ fellow shivered as he spoke, and I noticed that his great-coat was tightly
+ buttoned up to the throat. He had a hacking cough and his teeth were
+ chattering. "Let us go in," I said; "I don't want to smoke." He knocked
+ the ashes out of his pipe, and opened his door with an affectation of
+ gayety.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The room looked somewhat more home-like <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page83" name="page83"></a></span> now, but it was very cold.
+ Scrymgeour had no fire yet. He had been told that the smoke would blacken
+ his moon. Besides, I question if he would have dared to remove the fan
+ from the fireplace without consulting a Japanese authority. He did not
+ even know whether the Japanese burned coal. I missed a number of the
+ articles of furniture that had graced his former rooms. The easels were
+ gone; there were none of the old canvases standing against the wall, and
+ he had exchanged his comfortable, plain old screen for one with lizards
+ crawling over it. "It would never have done," he explained, "to spoil the
+ room with English things, so I got in some more Japanese furniture."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I asked him if he had sold his canvases; whereupon he signed me to follow
+ him to the wine-bin. It was full of them. There were no newspapers lying
+ about; but Scrymgeour hoped to manage to take one in by and by. He was
+ only feeling his way at present, he said. In the dim light shed by a
+ Japanese lamp, I tripped over a rainbow-colored slipper that tapered to
+ the heel and turned up at the toe. "I wonder you can get into these
+ things," I whispered, for the place depressed me; and he answered, with
+ similar caution, that he couldn't. "I keep them lying about," he said,
+ confidentially; "but after <span class="pagenum"><a id="page84"
+ name="page84"></a></span> I think nobody is likely to call I put on
+ an old pair of English ones." At this point the housekeeper knocked at the
+ door, and Scrymgeour sprang like an acrobat into a Japanese dressing-gown
+ before he cried "Come in!" As I left I <a name="image-ch10-2"
+ id="image-ch10-2">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch10-2.png"
+ style="float:left;width:150px;height:386px;margin: .5em 1em .5em 0em; padding: 0;"
+ alt="&quot;Scrymgeour sprang like an acrobat into a Japanese dressing-gown&quot;" />
+ asked him how he felt now, and he said that he had never been so happy in
+ his life. But his hand was hot, and he did not look me in the face.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Nearly a month elapsed before I looked in again. The unfortunate man had
+ now a Japanese rug over his legs to keep out the cold, and he was gazing
+ dejectedly at an outlandish mess which he called his lunch. He insisted
+ that it was not at all bad; but it had evidently been on the table some
+ time when I called, and he had not even tasted it. He ordered coffee for
+ my benefit, but I do not care for coffee that has salt in it instead of
+ sugar. I said that I had merely looked in to ask him to an early dinner at
+ the club, and it was touching to see how he <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page85" name="page85"></a></span> grasped at the idea. So
+ complete, however, was his subjection to that terrible housekeeper, who
+ believed in his fad, that he dared not send back her dishes untasted. As a
+ compromise I suggested that he could wrap up some of the stuff in paper
+ and drop it quietly into the gutter. We sallied forth, and I found him so
+ weak that he had to be assisted into a hansom. He still maintained,
+ however, that Japanese chambers were worth making some sacrifice for; and
+ when the other Arcadians saw his condition they had the delicacy not to
+ contradict him. They thought it was consumption.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ If we had not taken Scrymgeour in hand I dare not think what his craze
+ might have reduced him to. A friend asked him into the country for ten
+ days, and of course he was glad to go. As it happened, my chambers were
+ being repapered at the time, and Scrymgeour gave me permission to occupy
+ his rooms until his return. The other Arcadians agreed to meet me there
+ nightly, and they were indefatigable in their efforts to put the boudoir
+ to rights. Jimmy wrote letters to editors, of a most cutting nature, on
+ the moon, breaking the table as he stepped on and off it, and we gave the
+ butterflies to William John. The reptiles had to crawl off the door, and
+ we made pipe-lights of the Japanese <span class="pagenum"><a id="page86"
+ name="page86"></a></span> fans. Marriot shot the candles at the
+ mice and birds; and Gilray, by improvising an entertainment behind the
+ blood-red curtains, contrived to give them the dilapidated appearance
+ without which there is no real comfort. In short, the boudoir soon assumed
+ such a homely aspect that Scrymgeour on his return did not recognize it.
+ When he realized where he was he lighted up at once.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch10-t" id="image-ch10-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch10-t.png" style="width:400px;height:385px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. X." />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page87" name="page87"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0011" id="h2HCH0011">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ <a name="image-ch11-h" id="image-ch11-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch11-h.png"
+ style="float:right;width:150px;height:347px;padding: 0; margin: 0em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XI. &quot;His wife's cigars&quot;" /> CHAPTER XI.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ HIS WIFE'S CIGARS.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ Though Pettigrew, who is a much more successful journalist than Jimmy,
+ says pointedly of his wife that she encourages his smoking instead of
+ putting an end to it, I happen to know that he has cupboard skeletons.
+ Pettigrew has been married for years, and frequently boasted of his wife's
+ interest in smoking, until one night an accident revealed the true state
+ of matters to me. Late in the night, when traffic is hushed and the river
+ has at last a chance of making itself heard, Pettigrew's window opens
+ cautiously, and he casts something wrapped in newspaper into the night.
+ The window is then softly closed, and all is again quiet. At other times
+ Pettigrew steals along the curb-stone, dropping his skeletons one by one.
+ Nevertheless, his cupboard beneath the bookcase is <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page88" name="page88"></a></span> <a name="image-ch11-1"
+ id="image-ch11-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch11-1.png"
+ style="float:left;width:150px;height:729px;padding: 0; margin: .5em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="&quot;A packet of Celebros alighted on my head&quot;" /> so crammed
+ that he dreams the lock has given way. The key is always in his pocket,
+ yet when his children approach the cupboard he orders them away, so
+ fearful is he of something happening. When his wife has retired he
+ sometimes unlocks the cupboard with nervous hand, when the door bursts
+ gladly open, and the things roll on to the carpet. They are the cigars his
+ wife gives him as birthday presents, on the anniversary of his marriage,
+ and at other times, and such a model wife is she that he would do anything
+ for her except smoke them. They are Celebros, Regalia Rothschilds, twelve
+ and six the hundred. I discovered Pettigrew's secret one night, when, as I
+ was passing his house, a packet of Celebros alighted on my head. I
+ demanded an explanation, and I got it on the promise that I would not
+ mention the matter to the other Arcadians.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "Several years having elapsed," said Pettigrew, "since I pretended <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page89" name="page89"></a></span> to smoke
+ and enjoy my first Celebro, I could not now undeceive my wife&mdash;it
+ would be such a blow to her. At the time it could have been done easily.
+ She began by making trial of a few. There were seven of them in an
+ envelope; and I knew at once that she had got them for a shilling. She had
+ heard me saying that eightpence is a sad price to pay for a cigar&mdash;I
+ prefer them at tenpence&mdash;and a few days afterward she produced her
+ first Celebros. Each of them had, and has, a gold ribbon round it, bearing
+ the legend, 'Non plus ultra.' She was shy and timid at that time, and I
+ thought it very brave of her to go into the shop herself and ask for the
+ Celebros, as advertised; so I thanked her warmly. When she saw me slipping
+ them into my pocket she looked disappointed, and said that she would like
+ to see me smoking one. My reply would have been that I never cared to
+ smoke in the open air, if she had not often seen me do so. Besides, I
+ wanted to please her very much; and if what I did was weak I have been
+ severely punished for it. The pocket into which I had thrust the Celebros
+ also contained my cigar-case; and with my hand in the pocket I covertly
+ felt for a Villar y Villar and squeezed it into the envelope. This I then
+ drew forth, took out the cigar, as distinguished <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page90" name="page90"></a></span> from the Celebros, and smoked
+ it with unfeigned content. My wife watched me eagerly, asking six or eight
+ times how I liked it. From the way she talked of fine rich bouquet and
+ nutty flavor I gathered that she had been in conversation <a
+ name="image-ch11-2" id="image-ch11-2">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch11-2.png"
+ style="float:right;width:150px;height:467px;margin: .5em 0em .5em 1em; padding: 0;"
+ alt="&quot;I told her the cigars were excellent&quot;" /> with the
+ tobacconist, and I told her the cigars were excellent. Yes, they were as
+ choice a brand as I had ever smoked. She clapped her hands joyously at
+ that, and said that if she had not made up her mind never to do so she
+ would tell me what they cost. Next she asked me to guess the price; I
+ answered eighty shillings a hundred; and then she confessed that she got
+ the seven for a shilling. On our way home she made arch remarks about men
+ who judged cigars simply by their price. I laughed gayly in reply, begging
+ her not to be too hard on me; and I did not even feel uneasy when she
+ remarked that of course I would never buy those horridly expensive Villar
+ y Villars again. When I left her I gave the Celebros to an acquaintance
+ against whom I had long had a grudge&mdash;we have not spoken since&mdash;but
+ I <span class="pagenum"><a id="page91" name="page91"></a></span>
+ preserved the envelope as a pretty keepsake. This, you see, happened
+ shortly before our marriage.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "I have had a consignment of Celebros every month or two since then, and,
+ dispose of them quietly as I may, they are accumulating in the cupboard. I
+ despise myself; but my guile was kindly meant at first, and every
+ thoughtful man will see the difficulties in the way of a confession now.
+ Who can say what might happen if I were to fling that cupboard door open
+ in presence of my wife? I smoke less than I used to do; for if I were to
+ buy my cigars by the box I could not get them smuggled into the house.
+ Besides, she would know&mdash;I don't say how, I merely make the statement&mdash;that
+ I had been buying cigars. So I get half a dozen at a time. Perhaps you
+ will sympathize with me when I say that I have had to abandon my favorite
+ brand. I cannot get Villar y Villars that look like Celebros, and my wife
+ is quicker in those matters than she used to be. One day, for instance,
+ she noticed that the cigars in my case had not the gold ribbon round them,
+ and I almost fancied she became suspicious. I explained that the ribbon
+ was perhaps a little ostentatious; but she said it was an intimation of
+ nutty flavor: and now I take ribbons off the <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page92" name="page92"></a></span> Celebros and put them on the
+ other cigars. The boxes in which the Celebros arrive have a picturesque
+ design on the lid and a good deal of lace frilling round the edge, and she
+ likes to have a box lying about. The top layer of that box is cigars in
+ gold ribbons, placed there by myself, and underneath are the Celebros. I
+ never get down to the Celebros.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "For a long time my secret was locked in my breast as carefully as I shall
+ lock my next week's gift away in the cupboard, if I can find room for it;
+ but a few of my most intimate friends have an inkling of it now. When my
+ friends drop in I am compelled to push the Celebro box toward them, and if
+ they would simply take a cigar and ask no questions all would be well;
+ for, as I have said, there are cigars on the top. But they spoil everything
+ by remarking that they have not seen the brand before. Should my wife not
+ be present this is immaterial, for I have long had a reputation of keeping
+ good cigars. Then I merely remark that it is a new brand; and they smoke,
+ probably observing that it reminds them of a Cabana, which is natural,
+ seeing that it is a Cabana in disguise. If my wife is present, however,
+ she comes forward smiling, and remarks, with a fond look in my direction,
+ that they are her birthday present to <span class="pagenum"><a id="page93"
+ name="page93"></a></span> her Jack. Then they start back and say
+ they always smoke a pipe. These Celebros were making me a bad name among
+ my friends, so I have given a few of them to understand&mdash;I don't care
+ to put it more plainly&mdash;that if they will take a cigar from the top
+ layer they will find it all right. One of them, however, has a personal
+ ill-will to me because my wife told his wife that I preferred Celebro
+ cigars at twelve and six a hundred to any other. Now he is expected to
+ smoke the same; and he takes his revenge by ostentatiously offering me a
+ Celebro when I call on him."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch11-t" id="image-ch11-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch11-t.png" style="width: 400px; height: 719px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. XI." />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page94" name="page94"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0012" id="h2HCH0012">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch12-h" id="image-ch12-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch12-h.png" style="width:400px;height:341px;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XII. &quot;Gilray's flower-pot&quot;" />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER XII.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ GILRAY'S FLOWER-POT.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ I charge Gilray's unreasonableness to his ignoble passion for cigarettes;
+ and the story of his flower-pot has therefore an obvious moral. The want
+ of dignity he displayed about that flower-pot, on his return to London,
+ would have made any one sorry for him. I had my own work to look after,
+ and really could not be tending his chrysanthemum all day. After he came
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page95" name="page95"></a></span>
+ back, however, there was no reasoning with him, and I admit that I never
+ did water his plant, though always intending to do so.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The great mistake was in not leaving the flower-pot in charge of William
+ John. No doubt I readily promised to attend to it, but Gilray deceived me
+ by speaking as if the watering of a plant was the merest pastime. He had
+ to leave London for a short provincial tour, and, as I see now, took
+ advantage of my good nature.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As Gilray had owned his flower-pot for several months, during which time
+ (I take him at his word) he had watered it daily, he must have known he
+ was misleading me. He said that you got into the way of watering a
+ flower-pot regularly just as you wind up your watch. That certainly is not
+ the case. I always wind up my watch, and I never watered the flower-pot.
+ Of course, if I had been living in Gilray's rooms with the thing always
+ before my eyes I might have done so. I proposed to take it into my
+ chambers at the time, but he would not hear of that. Why? How Gilray came
+ by this chrysanthemum I do not inquire; but whether, in the circumstances,
+ he should not have made a clean breast of it to me is another matter.
+ Undoubtedly it was an unusual thing to put a man to <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page96" name="page96"></a></span> the trouble of watering a
+ chrysanthemum daily without giving him its history. My own belief has
+ always been that he got it in exchange for a pair of boots and his old
+ dressing-gown. He hints that it was a present; but, as one who knows him
+ well, I may say that he is the last person a lady would be likely to give
+ a chrysanthemum to. Besides, if he was so proud of the plant he should
+ have stayed at home and watered it himself.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He says that I never meant to water it, which is not only a mistake, but
+ unkind. My plan was to run downstairs immediately after dinner every
+ evening and give it a thorough watering. One thing or another, however,
+ came in the way. I often remembered about the chrysanthemum while I was in
+ the office; but even Gilray could hardly have expected me to ask leave of
+ absence merely to run home and water his plant. You must draw the line
+ somewhere, even in a government office. When I reached home I was tired,
+ inclined to take things easily, and not at all in a proper condition for
+ watering flower-pots. Then Arcadians would drop in. I put it to any
+ sensible man or woman, could I have been expected to give up my friends
+ for the sake of a chrysanthemum? Again, it was my custom of an evening, if
+ not disturbed, <a name="image-ch12-1" id="image-ch12-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch12-1a.png"
+ style="width:400px:height:244px;float:right;padding:0;margin: .5em 0em 0em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;Then Arcadians would drop in&quot;" /> <img
+ src="images/ch12-1b.png"
+ style="width:281px:height:50px;float:right;clear:right;padding:0;margin: 0em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;Then Arcadians would drop in&quot;" /> <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page97" name="page97"></a></span> to retire with my pipe into
+ my cane chair, and there pass the hours communing with great minds, or,
+ when the mood was on me, trifling with a novel. Often when I was in the
+ middle of a chapter Gilray's flower-pot stood up before my eyes crying for
+ water. He does not believe this, but it is the solemn truth. At those
+ moments it was touch and go, whether I watered his chrysanthemum or not.
+ Where I lost myself was in not hurrying to his rooms at once with a
+ tumbler. I said to myself that I would go when I had finished my pipe, but
+ by that time the flower-pot had escaped my memory. This may have been
+ weakness; all I know is that I should have saved myself much annoyance
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page98" name="page98"></a></span> if I
+ had risen and watered the chrysanthemum there and then. But would it not
+ have been rather hard on me to have had to forsake my books for the sake
+ of Gilray's flowers and flower-pots and plants and things? What right has
+ a man to go and make a garden of his chambers?
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ All the three weeks he was away, Gilray kept pestering me with letters
+ about his chrysanthemum. He seemed to have no faith in me&mdash;a
+ detestable thing in a man who calls himself your friend. I had promised to
+ water his flower-pot; and between friends a promise is surely sufficient.
+ It is not so, however, when Gilray is one of them. I soon hated the sight
+ of my name in his handwriting. It was not as if he had said outright that
+ he wrote entirely to know whether I was watering his plant. His references
+ to it were introduced with all the appearance of afterthoughts. Often they
+ took the form of postscripts: "By the way, are you watering my
+ chrysanthemum?" or, "The chrysanthemum ought to be a beauty by this time;"
+ or, "You must be quite an adept now at watering plants." Gilray declares
+ now that, in answer to one of these ingenious epistles, I wrote to him
+ saying that "I had just been watering his chrysanthemum." My belief is
+ that I <span class="pagenum"><a id="page99" name="page99"></a></span>
+ did no such thing; or, if I did, I meant to water it as soon as I had
+ finished my letter. He has never been able to bring this home to me, he
+ says, because he burned my correspondence. As if a business man would
+ destroy such a letter. <a name="image-ch12-2" id="image-ch12-2">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <span class="figcenter" style="display:block;"> <img
+ src="images/ch12-2.png" style="width:400px;height:481px;"
+ alt="&quot;I wrote to him&quot;" /> </span> It was yet more annoying when
+ Gilray took to post-cards. To hear the postman's knock and then discover,
+ when you are expecting an important communication, that it is only a
+ post-card about a flower-pot&mdash;that is really <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page100" name="page100"></a></span> too bad. And then I
+ consider that some of the post-cards bordered upon insult. One of them
+ said, "What about chrysanthemum?&mdash;reply at once." This was just like
+ Gilray's overbearing way; but I answered politely, and so far as I knew,
+ truthfully, "Chrysanthemum all right."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Knowing that there was no explaining things to Gilray, I redoubled my
+ exertions to water his flower-pot as the day for his return drew near.
+ Once, indeed, when I rang for water, I could not for the life of me
+ remember what I wanted it for when it was brought. Had I had any
+ forethought I should have left the tumbler stand just as it was to show it
+ to Gilray on his return. But, unfortunately, William John had
+ misunderstood what I wanted the water for, and put a decanter down beside
+ it. Another time I was actually on the stair rushing to Gilray's door,
+ when I met the housekeeper, and, stopping to talk to her, lost my
+ opportunity again. To show how honestly anxious I was to fulfil my
+ promise, I need only add that I was several times awakened in the watches
+ of the night by a haunting consciousness that I had forgotten to water
+ Gilray's flower-pot. On these occasions I spared no trouble to remember
+ again in the morning. I reached out of bed to a chair and turned it upside
+ down, so that the sight of it when I rose <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page101" name="page101"></a></span> might remind me that I had
+ something to do. With the same object I crossed the tongs and poker on the
+ floor. Gilray maintains that instead of playing "fool's tricks" like these
+ ("fool's tricks!") I should have got up and gone at once to his rooms with
+ my water-bottle. What? and disturbed my neighbors? Besides, could I
+ reasonably be expected to risk catching my death of cold for the sake of a
+ wretched chrysanthemum? One reads of men doing such things for young
+ ladies who seek lilies in dangerous ponds or edelweiss on overhanging
+ cliffs. But Gilray was not my sweetheart, nor, I feel certain, any other
+ person's.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I come now to the day prior to Gilray's return. I had just reached the
+ office when I remembered about the chrysanthemum. It was my last chance.
+ If I watered it once I should be in a position to state that, whatever
+ condition it might be in, I had certainly been watering it. I jumped into
+ a hansom, told the cabby to drive to the inn, and twenty minutes afterward
+ had one hand on Gilray's door, while the other held the largest water-can
+ in the house. Opening the door I rushed in. The can nearly fell from my
+ hand. There was no flower-pot! I rang the bell. "Mr. Gilray's
+ chrysanthemum!" I cried. What do you think William John said? He <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page102" name="page102"></a></span> coolly
+ told me that the plant was dead, and had been flung out days ago. I went
+ to the theatre that night to keep myself from thinking. All next day I
+ contrived to remain out of Gilray's sight. When we met he was stiff and
+ polite. He did not say a word about the chrysanthemum for a week, and then
+ it all came out with a rush. I let him talk. With the servants flinging
+ out the flower-pots faster than I could water them, what more could I have
+ done? A coolness between us was inevitable. This I regretted, but my mind
+ was made up on one point: I would never do Gilray a favor again.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch12-t" id="image-ch12-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch12-t.png" style="width:400px;height:660px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. XII. &quot;The can nearly fell from my hand&quot;" />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page103" name="page103"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0013" id="h2HCH0013">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER XIII.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ THE GRANDEST SCENE IN HISTORY.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch13-h" id="image-ch13-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch13-h.png"
+ style="float:right; width:150px;height:372px;padding: 0; margin: 0em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XIII." />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Though Scrymgeour only painted in watercolors, I think&mdash;I never
+ looked at his pictures&mdash;he had one superb idea, which we often
+ advised him to carry out. When he first mentioned it the room became
+ comparatively animated, so much struck were we all, and we entreated him
+ to retire to Stratford for a few months, before beginning the picture. His
+ idea was to paint Shakespeare smoking his first pipe of the Arcadia
+ Mixture.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Many hundreds of volumes have been written about the glories of the
+ Elizabethan age, the sublime period in our history. Then were Englishmen
+ on fire to do immortal deeds. High aims and noble ambitions became their
+ birthright. <span class="pagenum"><a id="page104" name="page104"></a>
+ </span> There was nothing they could not or would not do for England.
+ Sailors put a girdle round the world. Every captain had a general's
+ capacity; every fighting-man could have been a captain. All the women,
+ from the queen downward, were heroines. Lofty statesmanship guided the
+ conduct of affairs, a sublime philosophy was in the air. The period of
+ great deeds was also the period of our richest literature. London was
+ swarming with poetic geniuses. Immortal dramatists wandered in couples
+ between stage doors and taverns.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ All this has been said many times; and we read these glowing outbursts
+ about the Elizabethan age as if to the beating of a drum. But why was this
+ period riper for magnificent deeds and noble literature than any other in
+ English history? We all know how the thinkers, historians, and critics of
+ yesterday and to-day answer that question; but our hearts and brains tell
+ us that they are astray. By an amazing oversight they have said nothing of
+ the Influence of Tobacco. The Elizabethan age might be better named the
+ beginning of the smoking era. No unprejudiced person who has given thought
+ to the subject can question the propriety of dividing our history into two
+ periods&mdash;the pre-smoking and the smoking. When <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page105" name="page105"></a></span> <a name="image-ch13-1"
+ id="image-ch13-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch13-1a.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:150px;height:84px;padding:0;margin:.5em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="&quot;Raleigh ... introduced tobacco into this country&quot;" />
+ Raleigh, in honor of whom England should have changed its name, introduced
+ tobacco into this country, the glorious Elizabethan age began. I am aware
+ that those hateful persons called Original Researchers now maintain that
+ Raleigh was not the man; but to them I turn a deaf ear. I know, I feel,
+ that with the introduction of tobacco England woke up from a long sleep.
+ <a name="image-ch13-1bcd" id="image-ch13-1bcd">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch13-1b.png"
+ style="float:right; width:130px;height:148px;padding:0;margin: .5em 0em 0em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;Raleigh ... introduced tobacco into this country&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch13-1c.png"
+ style="float:right;clear:right;width:200px;height:190px;padding:0;margin: 0em 0em 0em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;Raleigh ... introduced tobacco into this country&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch13-1d.png"
+ style="float:right;clear:right;width:133px;height:122px;padding:0;margin: 0em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;Raleigh ... introduced tobacco into this country&quot;" />
+ Suddenly a new zest had been given to life. The glory of existence became
+ a thing to speak of. Men who had hitherto only concerned themselves with
+ the narrow things of home put a pipe into their mouths and became
+ philosophers. Poets and dramatists smoked until all ignoble ideas were
+ driven from them, and into their place rushed such high thoughts as the
+ world had not known before. Petty jealousies no longer had hold of
+ statesmen, who smoked, and agreed to work together for the public weal.
+ Soldiers and sailors felt, when engaged with a foreign foe, <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page106" name="page106"></a></span> that
+ they were fighting for their pipes. The whole country was stirred by the
+ ambition to live up to tobacco. Every one, in short, had now a lofty ideal
+ constantly before him. Two stories of the period, never properly told
+ hitherto, illustrate this. We all know that Gabriel Harvey and Spenser lay
+ in bed discussing English poetry and the forms it ought to take. This was
+ when tobacco was only known to a select few, of whom Spenser, the friend
+ of Raleigh, was doubtless one. That the two friends smoked in bed I cannot
+ doubt. Many poets have done the same thing since. Then there is the
+ beautiful Armada story. In a famous Armada picture the English sailors are
+ represented smoking; which makes it all the more surprising that the story
+ to which I refer has come down to us in an incorrect form. According to
+ the historians, when the Armada hove in sight the English captains were
+ playing at bowls. Instead of rushing off to their ships on receipt of the
+ news, they observed, "Let us first finish our game." I cannot believe that
+ this is what they said. My conviction is that what was really said was,
+ "Let us first finish our pipes"&mdash;surely a far more impressive and
+ memorable remark.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ This afternoon Marlowe's "Jew of Malta" <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page107" name="page107"></a></span> was produced for the first
+ time; and of the two men who have just emerged from the Blackfriars
+ Theatre one is the creator of <i>Barabas</i>. A marvel to all the "piperly
+ make-plaies and make-bates," save one, is "famous Ned Alleyn;" for when
+ money comes to him he does not drink till it be done, and already he is
+ laying by to confound the ecclesiastics, who say hard things of him, by
+ founding Dulwich College. "Not Roscius nor &AElig;sope," said Tom Nash,
+ who was probably in need of a crown at the time, "ever performed more in
+ action." A good fellow he is withal; for it is Ned who gives the supper
+ to-night at the "Globe," in honor of the new piece, if he can get his
+ friends together. The actor-manager shakes his head, for Marlowe, who was
+ to meet him here, must have been seduced into a tavern by the way; but his
+ companion, Robin Greene, is only wondering if that is a bailiff at the
+ corner. Robin of the "ruffianly haire," <i>utriusque academi&aelig;
+ artibus magister</i>, is nearing the end of his tether, and might call
+ to-night at shoemaker Islam's house near Dowgate, to tell a certain
+ "bigge, fat, lusty wench" to prepare his last bed and buy a garland of
+ bays. Ned must to the sign of the "Saba" in Gracious Street, where Burbage
+ and "honest gamesom Armin" are sure to be found; <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page108" name="page108"></a></span> but Greene durst not show
+ himself in the street without Cutting Ball and other choice ruffians as a
+ body-guard. Ned is content to leave them behind; for Robin has refused to
+ be of the company to-night if that "upstart Will" is invited too, and the
+ actor is fond of Will. There is no more useful man in the theatre, he has
+ said to "Signior Kempino" this very day, for touching up old plays; and
+ Will is a plodding young fellow, too, if not over-brilliant.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ned Alleyn goes from tavern to tavern, picking out his men. There is an
+ ale-house in Sea-coal Lane&mdash;the same where lady-like George Peele was
+ found by the barber, who had subscribed an hour before for his decent
+ burial, "all alone with a peck of oysters"&mdash;and here Ned is detained
+ an unconscionable time. Just as he is leaving with Kempe and Cowley, Armin
+ and Will Shakespeare burst in with a cry for wine. It is Armin who gives
+ the orders, but his companion pays. They spy Alleyn, and Armin must tell
+ his news. He is the bearer of a challenge from some merry souls at the
+ "Saba" to the actor-manager; and Ned Alleyn turns white and red when he
+ hears it. Then he laughs a confident laugh, and accepts the bet. Some
+ theatre-goers, flushed with wine, have dared him to attempt certain parts
+ in which <span class="pagenum"><a id="page109" name="page109"></a></span>
+ Bentley and Knell vastly please them. Ned is incredulous that men should
+ be so willing to fling away their money; yet here is Will a witness, and
+ Burbage is staying on at the "Saba" not to let the challengers escape.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The young man of twenty-four, at the White Horse in Friday Street, is Tom
+ Nash; and it is Peele who is swearing that he is a monstrous clever
+ fellow, and helping him to finish his wine. But Peele is glad to see Ned
+ and Cowley in the doorway, for Tom has a weakness for reading aloud the
+ good things from his own manuscripts. There is only one of the company who
+ is not now sick to death of Nash's satires on Martin Marprelate; and
+ perhaps even he has had enough of them, only he is as yet too obscure a
+ person to say so. That is Will; and Nash detains him for a moment just to
+ listen to his last words on the Marprelate controversy. Marprelate now
+ appears "with a wit worn into the socket, twingling and pinking like the
+ snuff of a candle; <i>quantum mutatus ab illo!</i> how unlike the knave he
+ was before, not for malice but for sharpness. The hogshead was even come
+ to the hauncing, and nothing could be drawne from him but the dregs." Will
+ says it is very good; and Nash smiles to himself as he puts the papers in
+ his pockets and thinks vaguely that he <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page110" name="page110"></a></span> might do something for
+ Will. Shakespeare is not a university man, and they say he held horses at
+ the doors of the Globe not long ago; but he knows a good thing when he
+ hears it.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ All this time Marlowe is at the Globe, wondering why the others are so
+ long in coming; but not wondering very much&mdash;for it is good wine they
+ give you at the Globe. Even before the feast is well begun Kit's eyes are
+ bloodshot and his hands unsteady. Death is already seeking for him at a
+ tavern in Deptford, and the last scene in a wild, brief life starts up
+ before us. A miserable ale-house, drunken words, the flash of a knife, and
+ a man of genius has received his death-blow. What an epitaph for the
+ greatest might-have-been in English literature: "Christopher Marlowe,
+ slain by a serving-man in a drunken brawl, aged twenty-nine!" But by the
+ time Shakespeare had reached his fortieth birthday every one of his
+ fellow-playwrights round that table had rushed to his death.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch13-2" id="image-ch13-2">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch13-2.png"
+ style="float:right;width:125px;height:619px;margin: 0em 0em .5em 1em;padding: 0;"
+ alt="The Arcadia Mixture" /> The short stout gentleman who is fond of
+ making jokes, and not particular whom he confides them to, has heard
+ another good story about Tarleton. This is the low comedian Kempe, who
+ stepped into the shoes of flat-nosed, squinting Tarleton the other day,
+ but never quite manages to fill them. He whispers the <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page111" name="page111"></a></span> tale across Will's back to
+ Cowley, before it is made common property; and little fancies, as he does
+ so, that any immortality he and his friend may gain will be owing to their
+ having played, before the end of the sixteenth century, the parts of <i>Dogberry</i>
+ and <i>Verges</i> in a comedy by Shakespeare, whom they are at present
+ rather in the habit of patronizing. The story is received with boisterous
+ laughter, for it suits the time and place.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Peele is in the middle of a love-song when Kit stumbles across the room to
+ say a kind word to Shakespeare. That is a sign that George is not yet so
+ very tipsy; for he is a gallant and a squire of dames so long as he is
+ sober. There is not a maid in any tavern in Fleet Street who does not
+ think George Peele the properest man in London. And yet, Greene being
+ absent, scouring the street <span class="pagenum"><a id="page112"
+ name="page112"></a></span> with Cutting Ball&mdash;whose sister is
+ mother of poor Fortunatus Greene&mdash;Peele is the most dissolute man in
+ the Globe to-night. There is a sad little daughter sitting up for him at
+ home, and she will have to sit wearily till morning. Marlowe's praises
+ would sink deeper into Will's heart if the author of the "Jew of Malta"
+ were less unsteady on his legs. And yet he takes Kit's words kindly, and
+ is glad to hear that "Titus Andronicus," produced the other day, pleases
+ the man whose praise is most worth having. Will Shakespeare looks up to
+ Kit Marlowe, and "Titus Andronicus" is the work of a young playwright who
+ has tried to write like Kit. Marlowe knows it, and he takes it as
+ something of a compliment, though he does not believe in imitation
+ himself. He would return now to his seat beside Ned Alleyn; but the floor
+ of the room is becoming unsteady, and Ned seems a long way off. Besides,
+ Shakespeare's cup would never require refilling if there were not some one
+ there to help him drink.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch13-3" id="image-ch13-3">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch13-3.jpg" style="width:400px;height:834px;"
+ alt="&quot;Ned Alleyn goes from tavern to tavern picking out his men&quot;" />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ The fun becomes fast and furious; and the landlord of the Globe puts in an
+ appearance, ostensibly to do his guests honor by serving them himself. But
+ he is fearful of how the rioting may end, and, if he dared, he would turn
+ Nash into the street. Tom is the only man there <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page113" name="page113"></a></span>
+ <!-- Full page image ch13-3 moved up from here --> <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page114" name="page114"></a></span> whom the landlord&mdash;if
+ that man had only been a Boswell&mdash;personally dislikes; indeed, Nash
+ is no great favorite even with his comrades. He has a bitter tongue, and
+ his heart is not to be mellowed by wine. The table roars over his sallies,
+ of which the landlord himself is dimly conscious that he is the butt, and
+ Kempe and Cowley wince under his satire. Those excellent comedians fall
+ out over a trifling difference of opinion; and handsome Nash&mdash;he
+ tells us himself that he was handsome, so there can be no doubt about it&mdash;maintains
+ that they should decide the dispute by fist-cuffs without further loss of
+ time. While Kempe and Cowley threaten to break each other's heads&mdash;which,
+ indeed, would be no great matter if they did it quietly&mdash;Burbage is
+ reciting vehemently, with no one heeding him; and Marlowe insists on
+ quarrelling with Armin about the existence of a Deity. For when Kit is
+ drunk he is an infidel. Armin will not quarrel with anybody, and Marlowe
+ is exasperated.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ But where is Shakespeare all this time? He has retired to a side table
+ with Alleyn, who has another historical play that requires altering. Their
+ conversation is of comparatively little importance; what we are to note
+ with bated breath is that Will is filling a pipe. His face is <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page115" name="page115"></a></span> placid,
+ for he does not know that the tobacco Ned is handing him is the Arcadia
+ Mixture. I love Ned Alleyn, and like to think that Shakespeare got the
+ Arcadia from him.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ For a moment let us turn from Shakespeare at this crisis in his life.
+ Alleyn has left him and is paying the score. Marlowe remains where he
+ fell. Nash has forgotten where he lodges, and so sets off with Peele to an
+ ale-house in Pye Corner, where George is only too well known. Kempe and
+ Cowley are sent home in baskets.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Again we turn to the figure in the corner, and there is such a light on
+ his face that we shade our eyes. He is smoking the Arcadia, and as he
+ smokes the tragedy of Hamlet takes form in his brain.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ This is the picture that Scrymgeour will never dare to paint. I know that
+ there is no mention of tobacco in Shakespeare's plays, but those who smoke
+ the Arcadia tell their secret to none, and of other mixtures they scorn to
+ speak.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch13-t" id="image-ch13-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch13-t.png" style="width:400px;height:674px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. XIII." />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page116" name="page116"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0014" id="h2HCH0014">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch14-h" id="image-ch14-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="clear:both; padding:0; margin:0;">
+ <img src="images/ch14-ha.png"
+ style="float: left; clear:left; width:229px;height:147px;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XIV. &quot;I was testing some new Cabanas&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch14-hb.png"
+ style="float: left; clear:both; width:400px;height:60px; margin:0;padding:0;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XIV. &quot;I was testing some new Cabanas&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch14-hc.png"
+ style="float: left; clear:left; width:77px;height:478px; margin:0; padding:0;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XIV. &quot;I was testing some new Cabanas&quot;" />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER XIV.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ MY BROTHER HENRY.
+ </h3>
+ <p style="clear:right; margin:150px 0 0 0; padding:0;">
+ Strictly speaking I never had a brother Henry, and yet I cannot say that
+ Henry was an impostor. He came into existence in a curious way, and I can
+ think of him now without malice as a child of smoke. The first I heard of
+ Henry was at Pettigrew's house, which is in a London suburb, so
+ conveniently situated that I can go there and back in one day. I was
+ testing some new Cabanas, I remember, when Pettigrew remarked that he had
+ been lunching with a man who knew my brother Henry. Not having any brother
+ but Alexander, I felt that Pettigrew had mistaken the name. "Oh, no,"
+ Pettigrew said; "he spoke of Alexander too." Even this did not convince
+ me, and I asked my host for his friend's name. Scudamour was the name of
+ the man, and he had met my brothers Alexander and Henry years <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page117" name="page117"></a></span> before
+ in Paris. Then I remembered Scudamour, and I probably frowned, for I
+ myself was my own brother Henry. I distinctly recalled Scudamour meeting
+ Alexander and me in Paris, and calling me Henry, though my name begins
+ with a J. I explained the mistake to Pettigrew, and here, for the time
+ being, the matter rested. However, I had by no means heard the last of
+ Henry.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Several times afterward I heard from various persons that Scudamour wanted
+ to meet me because he knew my brother Henry. At last we did meet, in
+ Jimmy's chambers; and, almost as soon as he saw me, Scudamour asked where
+ Henry was now. This was precisely what I feared. I am a man who always
+ looks like a boy. There are few persons of my age in London who retain
+ their boyish appearance as long as I have done; indeed, this is the curse
+ of my life. Though I am approaching the age of thirty, I pass for twenty;
+ and I have observed old gentlemen frown at my precocity when I said a good
+ thing or helped myself to a second glass of wine. There was, therefore,
+ nothing surprising in Scudamour's remark, that, when he had the pleasure
+ of meeting Henry, Henry must have been about the age that I had now
+ reached. All would have been well had I explained the real <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page118" name="page118"></a></span> state
+ of affairs to this annoying man; but, unfortunately for myself, I loathe
+ entering upon explanations to anybody about anything. This it is to smoke
+ the Arcadia. When I ring for a time-table and William John brings coals
+ instead, I accept the coals as a substitute. Much, then, did I dread a
+ discussion with Scudamour, his <a name="image-ch14-1" id="image-ch14-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch14-1a.png"
+ style="float:left; clear:left;width:400px;height:163px;padding:0;margin:.5em 1em 0em 0em;"
+ alt="&quot;A few weeks later some one tapped me on the shoulder&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch14-1b.png"
+ style="float:left; clear:left;width:262px;height:154px;padding:0;margin:0em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="&quot;A few weeks later some one tapped me on the shoulder&quot;" />
+ surprise when he heard that I was Henry, and his comments on my youthful
+ appearance. Besides, I was smoking the best of all mixtures. There was no
+ likelihood of my meeting Scudamour again, so the easiest way to get rid of
+ him seemed to be to humor him. I therefore told him that Henry was in
+ India, married, and doing well. "Remember me to Henry when you write to
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page119" name="page119"></a></span>
+ him," was Scudamour's last remark to me that evening.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ A few weeks later some one tapped me on the shoulder in Oxford Street. It
+ was Scudamour. "Heard from Henry?" he asked. I said I had heard by the
+ last mail. "Anything particular in the letter?" I felt it would not do to
+ say that there was nothing particular in a letter which had come all the
+ way from India, so I hinted that Henry was having trouble with his wife.
+ By this I meant that her health was bad; but he took it up in another way,
+ and I did not set him right. "Ah, ah!" he said, shaking his head
+ sagaciously; "I'm sorry to hear that. Poor Henry!" "Poor old boy!" was all
+ I could think of replying. "How about the children?" Scudamour asked. "Oh,
+ the children," I said, with what I thought presence of mind, "are coming
+ to England." "To stay with Alexander?" he asked. My answer was that
+ Alexander was expecting them by the middle of next month; and eventually
+ Scudamour went away muttering, "Poor Henry!" In a month or so we met
+ again. "No word of Henry's getting leave of absence?" asked Scudamour. I
+ replied shortly that Henry had gone to live in Bombay, and would not be
+ home for years. He saw that I was brusque, so what does he do but <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page120" name="page120"></a></span> draw me
+ aside for a quiet explanation. "I suppose," he said, "you are annoyed
+ because I told Pettigrew that Henry's wife had run away from him. The fact
+ is, I did it for your good. You see, I happened to make a remark to
+ Pettigrew <a name="image-ch14-2" id="image-ch14-2">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch14-2.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:150px;height:707px;margin: .5em 1em .5em 0em;padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;Naturally in the circumstances you did not want to talk about Henry&quot;" />
+ about your brother Henry, and he said that there was no such person. Of
+ course I laughed at that, and pointed out not only that I had the pleasure
+ of Henry's acquaintance, but that you and I had talked about the old
+ fellow every time we met. 'Well,' Pettigrew said, 'this is a most
+ remarkable thing; for he,' meaning you, 'said to me in this very room,
+ sitting in that very chair, that Alexander was his only brother.' I saw
+ that Pettigrew resented your concealing the existence of your brother
+ Henry from him, so I thought the most friendly thing I could do was to
+ tell him that your reticence was doubtless due to the unhappy state of
+ poor Henry's private affairs. Naturally in the circumstances you did not
+ want to talk about Henry." I shook Scudamour by the hand, telling him that
+ he had acted judiciously; but if I could have stabbed <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page121" name="page121"></a></span> him in the back at that
+ moment I dare say I would have done it.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I did not see Scudamour again for a long time, for I took care to keep out
+ of his way; but I heard first from him and then of him. One day he wrote
+ to me saying that his nephew was going to Bombay, and would I be so good
+ as to give the youth an introduction to my brother Henry? He also asked me
+ to dine with him and his nephew. I declined the dinner, but I sent the
+ nephew the required note of introduction to Henry. The next I heard of
+ Scudamour was from Pettigrew. "By the way," said Pettigrew, "Scudamour is
+ in Edinburgh at present." I trembled, for Edinburgh is where Alexander
+ lives. "What has taken him there?" I asked, with assumed carelessness.
+ Pettigrew believed it was business; "but," he added, "Scudamour asked me
+ to tell you that he meant to call on Alexander, as he was anxious to see
+ Henry's children." A few days afterward I had a telegram from Alexander,
+ who generally uses this means of communication when he corresponds with
+ me.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "Do you know a man, Scudamour? Reply," was what Alexander said. I thought
+ of answering that we had met a man of that name when we were in Paris; but
+ after consideration, I <span class="pagenum"><a id="page122" name="page122"></a>
+ </span> replied boldly: "Know no one of name of Scudamour."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ About two months ago I passed Scudamour in Regent Street, and he scowled
+ at me. This I could have borne if there had been no more of Henry; but I
+ knew that Scudamour was now telling everybody about Henry's wife.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ By and by I got a letter from an old friend of Alexander's asking me if
+ there was any truth in a report that Alexander was going to Bombay. Soon
+ afterward Alexander wrote to me saying he had been told by several persons
+ that I was going to Bombay. In short, I saw that the time had come for
+ killing Henry. So I told Pettigrew that Henry had died of fever, deeply
+ regretted; and asked him to be sure to tell Scudamour, who had always been
+ interested in the deceased's welfare. Pettigrew afterward told me that he
+ had communicated the sad intelligence to Scudamour. "How did he take it?"
+ I asked. "Well," Pettigrew said, reluctantly, "he told me that when he was
+ up in Edinburgh he did not get on well with Alexander. But he expressed
+ great curiosity as to Henry's children." "Ah," I said, "the children were
+ both drowned in the Forth; a sad affair&mdash;we can't bear to talk of
+ it." I am not likely to see much of Scudamour again, nor is Alexander.
+ Scudamour <span class="pagenum"><a id="page123" name="page123"></a></span>
+ now goes about saying that Henry was the only one of us he really liked.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch14-t" id="image-ch14-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch14-t.png" style="width:400px;height:347px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. XIV." />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page124" name="page124"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0015" id="h2HCH0015">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch15-h" id="image-ch15-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch15-ha.png"
+ style="float:left; width:400px;height:335px;padding:0; margin: 0em 1em 0em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XV. &quot;House-boat Arcadia&quot;" /> <img
+ src="images/ch15-hb.png"
+ style="float:left; clear:left; width:239px;height:151px;padding:0; margin: 0em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XV. &quot;House-boat Arcadia&quot;" />
+ </p>
+ <h2 style="margin-top:60px;">
+ CHAPTER XV.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ HOUSE-BOAT "ARCADIA."
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ Scrymgeour had a house-boat called, of course, the <i>Arcadia</i>, to
+ which he was so ill-advised as to invite us all at once. He was at that
+ time lying near Cookham, attempting to catch the advent of summer on a
+ canvas, and we were all, unhappily, able to accept his invitation. Looking
+ back to this nightmare of a holiday, I <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page125" name="page125"></a></span> am puzzled at our not
+ getting on well together, for who should be happy in a house-boat if not
+ five bachelors, well known to each other, and all smokers of the same
+ tobacco? Marriot says now that perhaps we were happy without knowing it;
+ but that is nonsense. We were miserable.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I have concluded that we knew each other too well. Though accustomed to
+ gather together in my rooms of an evening in London, we had each his
+ private chambers to retire to, but in the <i>Arcadia</i> solitude was
+ impossible. There was no escaping from each other.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Scrymgeour, I think, said that we were unhappy because each of us acted as
+ if the house-boat was his own. We retorted that the boy&mdash;by no means
+ a William John&mdash;was at the bottom of our troubles, and then
+ Scrymgeour said that he had always been against having a boy. We had been
+ opposed to a boy at first, too, fancying that we should enjoy doing our
+ own cooking. Seeing that there were so many of us, this should not have
+ been difficult, but the kitchen was small, and we were always striking
+ against each other and knocking things over. We had to break a window-pane
+ to let the smoke out; then Gilray, in kicking the stove because he had
+ burned his fingers on it, upset the thing, <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page126" name="page126"></a></span> and, before we had time to
+ intervene, a leg of mutton jumped out and darted into the coal-bunk. Jimmy
+ foolishly placed our six tumblers on the window-sill to dry, and a gust of
+ wind toppled them into the river. The draughts were a nuisance. This was
+ owing to windows facing each other being left open, and as a result
+ articles of clothing disappeared so mysteriously that we thought there
+ must be a thief or a somnambulist on board.
+ </p>
+ <div class="figinset" style="width:500px!important; margin:auto; clear:both; height:100%;">
+ <a name="image-ch15-1" id="image-ch15-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch15-1a.png"
+ style="width:400px;height:164px; float:left;clear:both;margin:0px 50px 0px 50px!important;padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;I caught my straw hat disappearing on the wings of the wind&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch15-1bl.png"
+ style="width: 11px;height:380px;float:left;clear:left;margin:0px 15px 0px 50px!important;padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;I caught my straw hat disappearing on the wings of the wind&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch15-1br.png"
+ style="width: 11px;height:380px;float:right; margin:0px 50px 0px 15px!important;padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;I caught my straw hat disappearing on the wings of the wind&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch15-1c.png"
+ style="width:400px;height:181px; float:left;clear:left;margin:0px 50px 50px 50px!important;padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;I caught my straw hat disappearing on the wings of the wind&quot;" />
+ <!-- 317 -->
+ <p style="font-size:90%;">
+ The third or fourth day, however, going into the saloon unexpectedly,
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page127" name="page127"></a></span>
+ I caught my straw hat disappearing on the wings of the wind. When last
+ seen it was on its way to Maidenhead, bowling along at the rate of
+ several miles an hour. So we thought it would be as well to have a boy.
+ As far as I remember, this was the only point unanimously agreed upon
+ during the whole time we were aboard. They told us at the Ferry Hotel
+ that boys were rather difficult to get in Cookham; but we instituted a
+ vigorous house-to-house search, and at last we ran a boy to earth and
+ carried him off.
+ </p>
+ </div>
+ <p style="clear:both;">
+ It was most unfortunate for all concerned that the boy did not sleep on
+ board. There was, however, no room for him; so he came at seven in the
+ morning, and retired when his labors were over for the day. I say he came;
+ but in point of fact that was the difficulty with the boy. He couldn't
+ come. He came as far as he could: that is to say, he walked up the
+ tow-path until he was opposite the house-boat, and then he hallooed to be
+ taken on board, whereupon some one had to go in the dingy for him. All the
+ time we were in the house-boat that boy was never five minutes late. Wet
+ or fine, calm or rough, 7 A.M. found the boy on the tow-path hallooing. No
+ sooner were we asleep than the dewy morn was made hideous <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page128" name="page128"></a></span> by the
+ boy. Lying in bed with the blankets over our heads to deaden his cries,
+ his fresh, lusty young voice pierced wood-work, blankets, sheets,
+ everything. "Ya-ho, ahoy, ya-ho, aho, ahoy!" So he kept it up. What
+ followed may easily be guessed. We all lay as silent as the grave, each
+ waiting for some one else to rise and bring the impatient lad across. At
+ last the stillness would be broken by some one's yelling out that he would
+ do for that boy. A second would mutter horribly in his sleep; a third
+ would make himself a favorite for the moment by shouting through the
+ wooden partition that it was the fifth's turn this morning. The fifth
+ would tell us where he would see the boy before he went across for him.
+ Then there would be silence again. Eventually some one would put an ulster
+ over his night-shirt, and sternly announce his intention of going over and
+ taking the boy's life. Hearing this, the others at once dropped off to
+ sleep. For a few days we managed to trick the boy by pulling up our blinds
+ and so conveying to his mind the impression that we were getting up. Then
+ he had not our breakfast ready when we did get up, which naturally enraged
+ us.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As soon as he got on board that boy made his presence felt. He was very
+ strong and energetic <span class="pagenum"><a id="page129" name="page129"></a>
+ </span> in the morning, and spent the first half-hour or so in
+ flinging coals at each other. This <a name="image-ch15-2" id="image-ch15-2">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch15-2.png"
+ style="float:right;clear:right;width:150px;height:520px;margin: .5em 0em .5em 1em; padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;It was the boy come back with the vegetables&quot;" /> was his
+ way of breaking them; and he was by nature so patient and humble that he
+ rather flattered himself when a coal broke at the twentieth attempt. We
+ used to dream that he was breaking coals on our heads. Often one of us
+ dashed into the kitchen, threatening to drop him into the river if he did
+ not sit quite still on a chair for the next two hours. Under these threats
+ he looked sufficiently scared to satisfy anybody; but as soon as all was
+ quiet again he crept back to the coal-bunk and was at his old games.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It didn't matter what we did, the boy put a stop to it. We tried whist,
+ and in ten minutes there was a "Hoy, hie, ya-ho!" from the opposite shore.
+ It was the boy come back with the vegetables. If we were reading, "Ya-ho,
+ hie!" and some one had to cross for that boy and the water-can. The boy
+ was on the tow-path <span class="pagenum"><a id="page130" name="page130"></a>
+ </span> just when we had fallen into a snooze; he had to be taken
+ across for the milk immediately we had lighted our pipes. On the whole, it
+ is an open question whether it was not even more annoying to take him over
+ than to go for him. Two or three times we tried to be sociable and went
+ into the village together; but no sooner had we begun to enjoy ourselves
+ than we remembered that we must go back and let the boy ashore. Tennyson
+ speaks of a company making believe to be merry while all the time the
+ spirit of a departed one haunted them in their play. That was exactly the
+ effect of the boy on us.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Even without the boy I hardly think we should have been a sociable party.
+ The sight of so much humanity gathered in one room became a nuisance. We
+ resorted to all kinds of subterfuge to escape from each other; and the one
+ who finished breakfast first generally managed to make off with the dingy.
+ The others were then at liberty to view him in the distance, in midstream,
+ lying on his back in the bottom of the boat; and it was almost more than
+ we could stand. The only way to bring him back was to bribe the boy into
+ saying that he wanted to go across to the village for bacon or black lead
+ or sardines. Thus even the boy had his uses.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page131" name="page131"></a></span>
+ Things gradually got worse and worse. I remember only one day when as many
+ as four of us were on speaking terms. Even this temporary sociability was
+ only brought about in order that we might combine and fall upon Jimmy with
+ the more crushing force. Jimmy had put us in an article, representing
+ himself as a kind of superior person who was making a study of us. The
+ thing was such a gross caricature, and so dull, that it was Jimmy we were
+ sorry for rather than ourselves. Still, we gathered round him in a body
+ and told him what we thought of the matter. Affairs might have gone more
+ smoothly after this if we four had been able to hold together.
+ Unfortunately, Jimmy won Marriot over, and next day there was a row all
+ round, which resulted in our division into five parties.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ One day Pettigrew visited us. He brought his Gladstone bag with him, but
+ did not stay over night. He was glad to go; for at first none of us, I am
+ afraid, was very civil to him, though we afterward thawed a little. He
+ returned to London and told every one how he found us. I admit we were not
+ prepared to receive company. The house-boat consisted of five apartments&mdash;a
+ saloon, three bedrooms, and a kitchen. When he boarded us we were
+ distributed <span class="pagenum"><a id="page132" name="page132"></a>
+ </span> as follows: I sat smoking in the saloon, Marriot sat smoking
+ in the first bedroom, Gilray in the second, Jimmy in the third, and
+ Scrymgeour in the kitchen. The boy did not keep Scrymgeour company. He had
+ been ordered on deck, where he sat with his legs crossed, the picture of
+ misery because he had no coals to break. A few days after Pettigrew's
+ visit we followed him to London, leaving Scrymgeour behind, where we soon
+ became friendly again.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch15-t" id="image-ch15-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch15-t.png" style="width:400px;height:250px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. XV. &quot;There was a row all round, which resulted in our division into five parties&quot;" />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page133" name="page133"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0016" id="h2HCH0016">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER XVI.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ THE ARCADIA MIXTURE AGAIN.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch16-h" id="image-ch16-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch16-ha.png"
+ style="float: right; clear: right; width: 150px;height:149px; margin: 0em 0em 0em 1em;padding:0;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XVI. &quot;The Arcadia Mixture again&quot;" /> <img
+ src="images/ch16-hb.png"
+ style="float: right; clear: right; width: 121px;height:68px; margin: 0em 0em .5em 1em;padding:0;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XVI. &quot;The Arcadia Mixture again&quot;" />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ One day, some weeks after we left Scrymgeour's house-boat, I was alone in
+ my rooms, very busy smoking, when William John entered with a telegram. It
+ was from Scrymgeour, and said, "You have got me into a dreadful mess. Come
+ down here first train."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Wondering what mess I could have got Scrymgeour into, I good-naturedly
+ obeyed his summons, and soon I was smoking placidly on the deck of the
+ house-boat, while Scrymgeour, sullen and nervous, tramped back and
+ forward. I saw quickly that the only tobacco had something to do with his
+ troubles, for he began by announcing that one evening soon after we left
+ him he found that we had <span class="pagenum"><a id="page134"
+ name="page134"></a></span> smoked all his Arcadia. He would have
+ dispatched the boy to London for it, but the boy had been all day in the
+ village buying a loaf, and would not be back for hours. Cookham cigars
+ Scrymgeour could not smoke; cigarettes he only endured if made from the
+ Arcadia.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ At Cookham he could only get tobacco that made him uncomfortable. Having
+ recently begun to use a new pouch, he searched his pockets in vain for odd
+ shreds of the Mixture to which he had so contemptibly become a slave. In a
+ very bad temper he took to his dingy, vowing for a little while that he
+ would violently break the chains that bound him to one tobacco, and
+ afterward, when he was restored to his senses that he would jilt the
+ Arcadia gradually. He had pulled some distance down the river, without
+ regarding the Cliveden Woods, when he all but ran into a blaze of Chinese
+ lanterns. It was a house-boat called&mdash;let us change its name to the
+ <i>Heathen Chinee</i>. Staying his dingy with a jerk, Scrymgeour looked
+ up, when a wonderful sight met his eyes. On the open window of an
+ apparently empty saloon stood a round tin of tobacco, marked "Arcadia
+ Mixture."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Scrymgeour sat gaping. The only sound to be heard, except a soft splash of
+ water under <span class="pagenum"><a id="page135" name="page135"></a>
+ </span> <a name="image-ch16-1" id="image-ch16-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch16-1a.png"
+ style="float: right; clear: right; width: 400px;height:289px; margin: 0em 0em 0em 1em; padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;On the open window ... stood a round tin of tobacco&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch16-1b.png"
+ style="float: right; clear: right; width: 192px;height:355px; margin: 0em 0em .5em 1em; padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;On the open window ... stood a round tin of tobacco&quot;" />
+ the house-boat, came from the kitchen, where a servant was breaking
+ crockery for supper. The romantic figure in the dingy stretched out his
+ hand and then drew it back, remembering that there was a law against this
+ sort of thing. He thought to himself, "If I were to wait until the owner
+ returns, no doubt a man who smokes the Arcadia <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page136" name="page136"></a></span> would feel for me." Then
+ his fatal horror of explanations whispered to him, "The owner may be a
+ stupid, garrulous fellow who will detain you here half the night
+ explaining your situation." Scrymgeour, I want to impress upon the reader,
+ was, like myself, the sort of a man who, if asked whether he did not think
+ "In Memoriam" Mr. Browning's greatest poem, would say Yes, as the easiest
+ way of ending the conversation. Obviously he would save himself trouble by
+ simply annexing the tin. He seized it and rowed off.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Smokers, who know how tobacco develops the finer feelings, hardly require
+ to be told what happened next. Suddenly Scrymgeour remembered that he was
+ probably leaving the owner of the <i>Heathen Chinee</i> without any
+ Arcadia Mixture. He at once filled his pouch, and, pulling softly back to
+ the house-boat, replaced the tin on the window, his bosom swelling with
+ the pride of those who give presents. At the same moment a hand gripped
+ him by the neck, and a girl, somewhere on deck, screamed.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Scrymgeour's captor, who was no other than the owner of the <i>Heathen
+ Chinee</i>, dragged him fiercely into the house-boat and stormed at him
+ for five minutes. My friend shuddered as he thought of the explanations to
+ come when he <span class="pagenum"><a id="page137" name="page137"></a>
+ </span> was allowed to speak, and gradually he realized that he had
+ been mistaken for someone else&mdash;apparently for some young blade who
+ had been carrying on a clandestine flirtation with the old gentleman's
+ daughter. It will take an hour, thought Scrymgeour, to convince him that I
+ am not that person, and another hour to explain why I am really here. Then
+ the weak creature had an idea: "Might not the simplest plan be to say that
+ his surmises are correct, promise to give his daughter up, and row away as
+ quickly as possible?" He began to wonder if the girl was pretty; but saw
+ it would hardly do to say that he reserved his defence until he could see
+ her.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "I admit," he said, at last, "that I admire your daughter; but she spurned
+ my advances, and we parted yesterday forever."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "Yesterday!"
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "Or was it the day before?"
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "Why, sir, I have caught you red-handed!"
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "This is an accident," Scrymgeour explained, "and I promise never to speak
+ to her again." Then he added, as an after-thought, "however painful that
+ may be to me."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Before Scrymgeour returned to his dingy he had been told that he would be
+ drowned if he came near that house-boat again. As he sculled away he had a
+ glimpse of the flirting daughter, <span class="pagenum"><a id="page138"
+ name="page138"></a></span> whom he described to me briefly as
+ being of such engaging appearance that six yards was a trying distance to
+ be away from her.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "Here," thought Scrymgeour that night over a pipe of the Mixture, "the
+ affair ends; though I dare say the young lady will call me terrible names
+ when she hears that I have personated her lover. I must take care to avoid
+ the father now, for he will feel that I have been following <a
+ name="image-ch16-2" id="image-ch16-2">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch16-2a.png"
+ style="float: left; clear: left; width: 70px;height:47px; margin: .5em 1em 0em 0em; padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;A pipe of the Mixture&quot;" /> <img src="images/ch16-2b.png"
+ style="float: left; clear: left; width: 150px;height:52px; margin: 0em 1em 0em 0em; padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;A pipe of the Mixture&quot;" /> <img src="images/ch16-2c.png"
+ style="float: left; clear: left; width: 98px;height:72px; margin: 0em 1em .5em 0em; padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;A pipe of the Mixture&quot;" /> him. Perhaps I should have made
+ a clean breast of it; but I do loathe explanations."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Two days afterward Scrymgeour passed the father and daughter on the river.
+ The lady said "Thank you" to him with her eyes, and, still more
+ remarkable, the old gentleman bowed.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Scrymgeour thought it over. "She is grateful to me," he concluded, "for
+ drawing away suspicion from the other man, but what can have made the
+ father so amiable? Suppose she has not told him that I am an impostor, he
+ should still look upon me as a villain; and if she has told him, he should
+ be still more furious. It is <span class="pagenum"><a id="page139"
+ name="page139"></a></span> curious, but no affair of mine." Three
+ times within the next few days he encountered the lady on the tow-path or
+ elsewhere with a young gentleman of empty countenance, who, he saw must be
+ the real Lothario. Once they passed him when he was in the shadow of a
+ tree, and the lady was making pretty faces with a cigarette <a
+ name="image-ch16-3" id="image-ch16-3">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch16-3.png"
+ style="float: right; margin: .5em 0em .5em 1em; width:200px;height:202px;padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;The lady was making pretty faces with a cigarette in her mouth&quot;" />
+ in her mouth. The house-boat <i>Heathen Chinee</i> lay but a short
+ distance off, and Scrymgeour could see the owner gazing after his daughter
+ placidly, a pipe between his lips.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "He must be approving of her conduct now," was my friend's natural
+ conclusion. Then one forenoon Scrymgeour travelled to town in the same
+ compartment as the old gentleman, who was exceedingly frank, and made sly
+ remarks about romantic young people who met by stealth when there was no
+ reason why they should not meet openly. "What does <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page140" name="page140"></a></span> he mean?" Scrymgeour asked
+ himself, uneasily. He saw terribly elaborate explanations gathering and
+ shrank from them.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Then Scrymgeour was one day out in a punt, when he encountered the old
+ gentleman in a canoe. The old man said, purple with passion, that he was
+ on his way to pay Mr. Scrymgeour a business visit. "Oh, yes," he
+ continued, "I know who you are; if I had not discovered you were a man of
+ means I would not have let the thing go on, and now I insist on an
+ explanation."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Explanations!
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ They made for Scrymgeour's house-boat, with almost no words on the young
+ man's part; but the father blurted out several things&mdash;as that his
+ daughter knew where he was going when he left the <i>Heathen Chinee</i>,
+ and that he had an hour before seen Scrymgeour making love to another
+ girl.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "Don't deny it!" cried the indignant father; "I recognized you by your
+ velvet coat and broad hat."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Then Scrymgeour began to see more clearly. The girl had encouraged the
+ deception, and had been allowed to meet her lover because he was supposed
+ to be no adventurer but the wealthy Mr. Scrymgeour. She must have told the
+ fellow to get a coat and hat like his to help the <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page141" name="page141"></a></span> plot. At the time the
+ artist only saw all this in a jumble.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Scrymgeour had bravely resolved to explain everything now; but his
+ bewilderment may be conceived when, on entering his saloon with the lady's
+ father, the first thing they saw was the lady herself. The old gentleman
+ gasped, and his daughter looked at Scrymgeour imploringly.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "Now," said the father fiercely, "explain."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The lady's tears became her vastly. Hardly knowing what he did, Scrymgeour
+ put his arm around her.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "Well, go on," I said, when at this point Scrymgeour stopped.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "There is no more to tell," he replied; "you see the girl allowed me to&mdash;well,
+ protect her&mdash;and&mdash;and the old gentleman thinks we are engaged."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "I don't wonder. What does the lady say?"
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "She says that she ran along the bank and got into my house-boat by the
+ plank, meaning to see me before her father arrived and to entreat me to
+ run away."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "With her?"
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "No, without her."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "But what does she say about explaining matters to her father?"
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "She says she dare not, and as for me, I could not. That was why I
+ telegraphed to you."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page142" name="page142"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "You want me to be intercessor? No, Scrymgeour; your only honorable course
+ is marriage."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "But you must help me. It is all your fault, teaching me to like the
+ Arcadia Mixture."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I thought this so impudent of Scrymgeour that I bade him good-night at
+ once. All the men on the stair are still confident that he would have
+ married her, had the lady not cut the knot by eloping with Scrymgeour's
+ double.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch16-t" id="image-ch16-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch16-t.png" style="width:300px;height:480px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. XVI." />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page143" name="page143"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0017" id="h2HCH0017">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER XVII.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ THE ROMANCE OF A PIPE-CLEANER.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch17-h" id="image-ch17-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch17-ha.png"
+ style="width: 400px;height:113px; float:left; clear:left; margin: 0em 1em 0em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XVII. &quot;He was in love again&quot;" /> <img
+ src="images/ch17-hb.png"
+ style="width: 257px;height:465px; float:left; clear:left; margin: 0em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XVII. &quot;He was in love again&quot;" />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ We continued to visit the <i>Arcadia</i>, though only one at a time now,
+ and Gilray, who went most frequently, also remained longest. In other
+ words, he was in love again, and this time she lived at Cookham. Marriot's
+ love affairs I pushed from me with a wave of my pipe, but Gilray's second
+ case was serious.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ In time, however, he returned to the Arcadia Mixture, though not until the
+ house-boat was in its winter quarters. I witnessed his complete recovery,
+ the scene being his chambers. Really it is rather a pathetic story, and so
+ I give the telling of it to a rose, which the <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page144" name="page144"></a></span> lady once presented to
+ Gilray. Conceive the rose lying, as I saw it, on Gilray's hearth-rug, and
+ then imagine it whispering as follows:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "A wire was round me that white night on the river when she let him take
+ me from her. Then I hated the wire. Alas! hear the end.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "My moments are numbered; and if I would expose him with my dying sigh, I
+ must not sentimentalize over my own decay. They were in a punt, her hand
+ trailing in the water, when I became his. When they parted that night at
+ Cookham Lock, he held her head in his hands, and they gazed in each
+ other's eyes. Then he turned away quickly; when he reached the punt again
+ he was whistling. Several times before we came to the house-boat in which
+ he and another man lived, he felt in his pocket to make sure that I was
+ still there. At the house-boat he put me in a tumbler of water out of
+ sight of his friend, and frequently he stole to the spot like a thief to
+ look at me. Early next morning he put me in his buttonhole, calling me
+ sweet names. When his friend saw me, he too whistled, but not in the same
+ way. Then my owner glared at him. This happened many months ago.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "Next evening I was in a garden that slopes to the river. I was on his
+ breast, and so for a <span class="pagenum"><a id="page145" name="page145"></a>
+ </span> moment was she. His voice was so soft and low as he said to
+ her the words he had said to me the night before, that I slumbered in a
+ dream. When I awoke suddenly he was raging at her, and she cried. I know
+ not why they <a name="image-ch17-1" id="image-ch17-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch17-1.png"
+ style="float:right;width:150px;height:400px;margin: .5em 0em .5em 1em; padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;I heard him walking up and down the deck&quot;" /> quarrelled so
+ quickly, but it was about some one whom he called 'that fellow,' while she
+ called him a 'friend of papa's.' He looked at her for a long time again,
+ and then said coldly that he wished her a very good-evening. She bowed and
+ went toward a house, humming a merry air, while he pretended to light a
+ cigarette made from a tobacco of which he was very fond. Till very late
+ that night I heard him walking up and down the deck of the house-boat, his
+ friend shouting to him not to be an ass. Me he had flung fiercely on the
+ floor of the house-boat. About midnight he came downstairs, his face
+ white, and, snatching me up, put me in his pocket. Again we went into the
+ punt, and he pushed it within sight of the garden. There he pulled in his
+ pole and lay <span class="pagenum"><a id="page146" name="page146"></a>
+ </span> groaning in the punt, letting it drift, while he called her
+ his beloved and a little devil. Suddenly he took me from his pocket,
+ kissed me, and cast me down from him into the night. I fell among reeds,
+ head downward; and there I lay all through the cold, horrid night. The
+ gray morning came at last, then the sun, and a boat now and again. I
+ thought I had found my grave, when I saw his punt coming toward the reeds.
+ He searched everywhere for me, and at last he found me. So delighted and
+ affectionate was he that I forgave him my sufferings, only I was jealous
+ of a letter in his other pocket, which he read over many times, murmuring
+ that it explained everything.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "Her I never saw again, but I heard her voice. He kept me now in a leather
+ case in an inner pocket, where I was squeezed very flat. What they said to
+ each other I could not catch; but I understood afterward, for he always
+ repeated to me what he had been saying to her, and many times he was
+ loving, many times angry, like a bad man. At last came a day when he had a
+ letter from her containing many things he had given her, among them a ring
+ on which she had seemed to set great store. What it all meant I never
+ rightly knew, but he flung the ring into the Thames, calling her all the
+ old <span class="pagenum"><a id="page147" name="page147"></a></span>
+ wicked names and some new ones. I remember how we rushed to her house,
+ along the bank this time, and that she asked him to be her brother; but he
+ screamed denunciations at her, again speaking of 'that fellow,' and saying
+ that he was going to-morrow to Manitoba.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "So far as I know, they saw each other no more. He walked on the deck so
+ much now that his friend went back to London, saying he could get no
+ sleep. Sometimes we took long walks alone; often we sat for hours looking
+ at the river, for on those occasions he would take me out of the leather
+ case and put me on his knee. One day his friend came back and told him
+ that he would soon get over it, he himself having once had a similar
+ experience; but my master said no one had ever loved as he loved, and
+ muttered 'Vixi, vixi' to himself till the other told him not to be a fool,
+ but to come to the hotel and have something to eat. Over this they
+ quarrelled, my master hinting that he would eat no more; but he ate
+ heartily after his friend was gone.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "After a time we left the house-boat, and were in chambers in a great inn.
+ I was still in his pocket, and heard many conversations between him and
+ people who came to see him, and he would tell them that he loathed the
+ society <span class="pagenum"><a id="page148" name="page148"></a></span>
+ of women. When they told him, as one or two did, that they were in love,
+ he always said that he had gone through that stage ages ago. Still, at
+ nights he would take me out of my case, when he was alone, and look at me;
+ after which he walked up and down the room in an agitated manner and cried
+ 'Vixi.'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "By and by he left me in a coat that he was no longer wearing. Before this
+ he had always put me into whatever coat he had on. I lay neglected, I
+ think, for a month, until one day he felt the pockets of the coat for
+ something else, and pulled me out. I don't think he remembered what was in
+ the leather case at first; but as he looked at me his face filled with
+ sentiment, and next day he took me with him to Cookham. The winter was
+ come, and it was a cold day. There were no boats on the river. He walked
+ up the bank to the garden where was the house in which she had lived; but
+ the place was now deserted. On the garden gate he sat down, taking me from
+ his pocket; and here, I think, he meant to recall the days that were dead.
+ But a cold, piercing wind was blowing, and many times he looked at his
+ watch, putting it to his ear as if he thought it had stopped. After a
+ little he took to flinging stones into the water, for something to do; and
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page149" name="page149"></a></span>
+ then he went to the hotel and stayed there till he got a train back to
+ London. We were home many hours before he meant to be back, and that night
+ he went to a theatre.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "That was my last day in the leather case. He keeps something else in it
+ now. He flung me among old papers, smoking-caps, slippers, and other odds
+ and ends into a box, where I have remained until to-night. A month or more
+ ago he rummaged in the box for some old letters, and coming upon me
+ unexpectedly, he jagged his finger on the wire. 'Where on earth did you
+ come from?' he asked me. Then he remembered, and flung me back among the
+ papers with a laugh. Now we come to to-night. An hour ago I heard him
+ blowing down something, then stamping his feet. From his words I knew that
+ his pipe was stopped. I heard him ring a bell and ask angrily who had gone
+ off with his pipe-cleaners. He bustled through the room looking for them
+ or for a substitute, and after a time he cried aloud, 'I have it; that
+ would do; but where was it I saw the thing last?' He pulled out several
+ drawers, looked through his desk, and then opened the box in which I lay.
+ He tumbled its contents over until he found me, and then he pulled me out,
+ exclaiming, 'Eureka!' My heart sank, for I understood all as I fell <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page150" name="page150"></a></span> leaf by
+ leaf on the hearth-rug where I now lie. He took the wire off me and used
+ it to clean his pipe."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch17-t" id="image-ch17-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch17-t.png" style="width:400px;height:579px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. XVII. &quot;He took the wire off me and used it to clean his pipe&quot;" />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page151" name="page151"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0018" id="h2HCH0018">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER XVIII.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ WHAT COULD HE DO?
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch18-h" id="image-ch18-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch18-ha.png"
+ style="width: 400px;height:171px; float:left; clear:left;padding:0;margin:0em 1em 0em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XVIII. &quot;I had walked from Spondinig to Franzenshohe&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch18-hb.png"
+ style="width: 173px;height:251px; float:left; clear:left;margin:0em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XVIII. &quot;I had walked from Spondinig to Franzenshohe&quot;" />
+ </p>
+ <p style="margin-top:190px;">
+ This was another of Marriot's perplexities of the heart. He had been on
+ the Continent, and I knew from his face, the moment he returned, that I
+ would have a night of him.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "On the 4th of September," he began, playing agitatedly with my
+ tobacco-pouch, which was not for hands like his, "I had walked from
+ Spondinig to Franzenshohe, which is a Tyrolese inn near the top of Stelvio
+ Pass. From the inn to a very fine glacier is only a stroll of a few
+ minutes; but the path is broken by a roaring stream. The only bridge
+ across this stream is a plank, which seemed to give way as I put <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page152" name="page152"></a></span> my foot
+ on it. I drew back, for the stream would be called one long waterfall in
+ England. Though a passionate admirer of courage, I easily lose my head
+ myself, and I did not dare to venture across the plank. I walked up the
+ stream, looking in vain for another crossing, and finally sat down on a
+ wilderness of stones, from which I happened to have a good view of the <a
+ name="image-ch18-1" id="image-ch18-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch18-1.png"
+ style="float:right;width:150px;height:459px;padding:0;margin:.5em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;On the middle of the plank she had turned to kiss her hand&quot;" />
+ plank. In parties of two and three a number of tourists strolled down the
+ path; but they were all afraid to cross the bridge. I saw them test it
+ with their alpenstocks; but none would put more than one foot on it. They
+ gathered there at their wit's end. <span class="pagenum"><a id="page153"
+ name="page153"></a></span> Suddenly I saw that there was some one
+ on the plank. It was a young lady. I stood up and gazed. She was perhaps a
+ hundred yards away from me; but I could distinctly make out her swaying,
+ girlish figure, her deer-stalker cap, and the ends of her boa (as, I
+ think, those long, furry things are called) floating in the wind. In a
+ moment she was safe on the other side; but on the middle of the plank she
+ had turned to kiss her hand to some of her more timid friends, and it was
+ then that I fell in love with her. No doubt it was the very place for
+ romance, if one was sufficiently clad; but I am not 'susceptible,' as it
+ is called, and I had never loved before. On the other hand, I was always a
+ firm believer in love at first sight, which, as you will see immediately,
+ is at the very root of my present sufferings.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "The other tourists, their fears allayed, now crossed the plank, but I
+ hurried away anywhere; and found myself an hour afterward on a hillside,
+ surrounded by tinkling cows. All that time I had been thinking of a plank
+ with a girl on it. I returned hastily to the inn, to hear that the heroine
+ of the bridge and her friends had already driven off up the pass. My
+ intention had been to stay at Franzenshohe over night, but of course I at
+ once followed the line of <span class="pagenum"><a id="page154"
+ name="page154"></a></span> carriages which could be seen crawling
+ up the winding road. It was no difficult matter to overtake them, and in
+ half an hour I was within a few yards of the hindmost carriage. It
+ contained her of whom I was in pursuit. Her back was toward me, but I
+ recognized the cap and the boa. I confess that I was nervous about her
+ face, which I had not yet seen. So often had I been disappointed in ladies
+ when they showed their faces, that I muttered Jimmy's aphorism to myself:
+ 'The saddest thing in life is that most women look best from the back.'
+ But when she looked round all anxiety was dispelled. So far as your advice
+ is concerned, it cannot matter to you what she was like. Briefly, she was
+ charming.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "I am naturally shy, and so had more difficulty in making her acquaintance
+ than many travellers would have had. It was at the baths of Bormio that we
+ came together. I had bribed a waiter to seat me next her father at dinner;
+ but, when the time came, I could say nothing to him, so anxious was I to
+ create a favorable impression. In the evening, however, I found the family
+ gathered round a pole, with skittles at the foot of it. They were
+ wondering how Italian skittles was played, and, though I had no idea, I
+ volunteered to teach them. Fortunately <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page155" name="page155"></a></span> none of them understood
+ Italian, and consequently the expostulations of the boy in charge were
+ disregarded. It is not my intention to dwell upon the
+ never-to-be-forgotten days&mdash;ah, and still more the evenings&mdash;we
+ spent at the baths of Bormio. I had loved her as she crossed the plank;
+ but daily now had I more cause to love her, and it was at Bormio that she
+ learned&mdash;I say it with all humility&mdash;to love me. The seat in the
+ garden on which I proposed is doubtless still to be seen, with the chair
+ near it on which her papa was at that very moment sitting, with one of his
+ feet on a small table. During the three sunny days that followed, my life
+ was one delicious dream, with no sign that the awakening was at hand.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "So far I had not mentioned the incident at Franzenshohe to her. Perhaps
+ you will call my reticence contemptible; but the fact is, I feared to fall
+ in her esteem. I could not have spoken of the plank without admitting that
+ I was afraid to cross it; and then what would she, who was a heroine,
+ think of a man who was so little of a hero? Thus, though I had told her
+ many times that I fell in love with her at first sight, she thought I
+ referred to the time when she first saw me. She liked to hear me say that
+ I believed in no love but love at <span class="pagenum"><a id="page156"
+ name="page156"></a></span> first sight; and, looking back, I can
+ recall saying it at least once on every seat in the garden at the baths of
+ Bormio.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch18-2" id="image-ch18-2">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch18-2.png"
+ style="float:right;width:150px;height:466px;padding:0;margin:.5em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;Then she burst into tears&quot;" /> "Do you know Tirano, a
+ hamlet in a nest of vines, where Italian soldiers strut and women sleep in
+ the sun beside baskets of fruit? How happily we entered it; were we the
+ same persons who left it within an hour? I was now travelling with her
+ party; and at Tirano, while the others rested, she and I walked down a
+ road between vines and Indian corn. Why I should then have told her that I
+ loved her for a whole day before she saw me I cannot tell. It may have
+ been something she said, perhaps only an irresistible movement of her
+ head; for her grace was ever taking me by surprise, and she was a
+ revelation a thousand times a day. But whatever it was that made me speak
+ out, I suddenly told her that I fell in love with her as she stood upon
+ the plank at Franzenshohe. I remember her stopping short at a point where
+ there had probably once been a gate to the vineyard, and I thought she was
+ angry with me for not having told her of the Franzenshohe incident before.
+ Soon the pallor of her face alarmed me. She entreated me to say it was not
+ at Franzenshohe that I first loved her, and I fancied she was afraid lest
+ her behavior on the bridge had <span class="pagenum"><a id="page157"
+ name="page157"></a></span> seemed a little bold. I told her it was
+ divine, and pictured the scene as only an anxious lover could do. Then she
+ burst into tears, and we went back silently to her relatives. She would
+ not say a word to me.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "We drove to Sondrio, and before we reached it I dare say I was as pale as
+ she. A horrible thought had flashed upon me. At Sondrio I took her papa
+ aside, and, without telling him what had happened, questioned him about
+ his impressions of Franzenshohe. 'You remember the little bridge,' he
+ said, 'that we were all afraid to cross; by Jove! I have often wondered
+ who that girl was that ventured over it first.'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "I hastened away from him to think. My fears had been confirmed. It was
+ not she who had first crossed the plank. Therefore it was not she with
+ whom I had fallen in love. Nothing could be plainer than that I was in
+ love with the wrong person. All the time I had loved <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page158" name="page158"></a></span> another. But who was she?
+ Besides, did I love her? Certainly not. Yes, but why did I love this one?
+ The whole foundation of my love had been swept away. Yet the love
+ remained. Which is absurd.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "At Colico I put the difficulty to her father; but he is stout, and did
+ not understand its magnitude. He said he could not see how it mattered. As
+ for her, I have never mentioned it to her again; but she is always
+ thinking of it, and so am I. A wall has risen up between us, and how to
+ get over it or whether I have any right to get over it, I know not. Will
+ you help me&mdash;and her?"
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "Certainly not," I said.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch18-t" id="image-ch18-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch18-t.png" style="width:400px;height:227px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. XVIII. &quot;A wall has risen up between us&quot;" />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page159" name="page159"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0019" id="h2HCH0019">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch19-h" id="image-ch19-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch19-ha.png"
+ style="width: 400px;height:309px; float:left; clear:left; padding: 0; margin: 0em 1em 0em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XIX. &quot;Primus&quot;" /> <img
+ src="images/ch19-hb.png"
+ style="width: 181px;height:153px; float:left; clear:left; padding: 0; margin: 0em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XIX. &quot;Primus&quot;" />
+ </p>
+ <h2 style="margin-top: 325px;">
+ CHAPTER XIX.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ PRIMUS.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ Primus is my brother's eldest son, and he once spent his Easter holidays
+ with me. I did not want him, nor was he anxious to come, but circumstances
+ were too strong for us, and, to be just to Primus, he did his best to show
+ me that I was not in his way. He was then at the age when boys begin to
+ address each other by their surnames.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I have said that I always took care not to know how much tobacco I smoked
+ in a week, and therefore I may be hinting a libel on Primus <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page160" name="page160"></a></span> when I
+ say that while he was with me the Arcadia disappeared mysteriously. Though
+ he spoke respectfully of the Mixture&mdash;as became my nephew&mdash;he
+ tumbled it on to the table, so that he might make a telephone out of the
+ tins, and he had a passion for what he called "snipping cigars."
+ Scrymgeour gave him a cigar-cutter which was pistol-shaped. You put the
+ cigar end in a hole, pull the trigger, and the cigar was snipped. The
+ simplicity of the thing fascinated Primus, and after his return to school
+ I found that he had broken into my Cabana boxes and snipped nearly three
+ hundred cigars.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As soon as he arrived Primus laid siege to the heart of William John,
+ captured it in six hours, and demoralized it in twenty-four. We, who had
+ known William John for years, considered him very practical, but Primus
+ fired him with tales of dark deeds at "old Poppy's"&mdash;which was
+ Primus's handy name for his preceptor&mdash;and in a short time William
+ John was so full of romance that we could not trust him to black our
+ boots. He and Primus had a scheme for seizing a lugger and becoming
+ pirates, when Primus was to be captain, William John first lieutenant, and
+ old Poppy a prisoner. To the crew was added a boy with a catapult, one
+ Johnny Fox, who was another victim of the <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page161" name="page161"></a></span> <a name="image-ch19-1"
+ id="image-ch19-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch19-1.png"
+ style="float:left; clear:left; width:150px;height:698px; padding:0;margin: .5em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="&quot;Many tall hats struck, to topple in the dust&quot;" /> tyrant
+ Poppy, and they practised walking the plank at Scrymgeour's window. The
+ plank was pushed nearly half-way out at the window, and you walked up it
+ until it toppled and you were flung into the quadrangle. Such was the
+ romance of William John that he walked the plank with his arms tied,
+ shouting scornfully, by request, "Captain Kidd, I defy you! ha, ha! the
+ buccaneer does not live who will blanch the cheeks of Dick, the Doughty
+ Tar!" Then William John disappeared, and had to be put in poultices.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ While William John was in bed slowly recovering from his heroism, the
+ pirate captain and Johnny Fox got me into trouble by stretching a string
+ across the square, six feet from the ground, against which many tall hats
+ struck, to topple in the dust. An improved sling from the Lowther Arcade
+ kept the glazier constantly in the inn. Primus and Johnny Fox strolled
+ into Holborn, knocked a bootblack's cap off, and returned with lumps on
+ their foreheads. They <span class="pagenum"><a id="page162" name="page162"></a>
+ </span> were observed one day in Hyde Park&mdash;whither it may be
+ feared they had gone with cigarettes&mdash;running after sheep, from which
+ ladies were flying, while street-arabs chased the pirates, and a policeman
+ chased the street-arabs. The only book they read was the "Comic History of
+ Rome," the property of Gilray. This they liked so much that Primus papered
+ the inside of his box with pictures from it. The only authors they
+ consulted me about were "two big swells" called Descartes and James Payn,
+ of whom Primus discovered that the one could always work best in bed,
+ while the other thought Latin and Greek a mistake. It was the intention of
+ the pirates to call old Poppy's attention to these gentlemen's views.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Soon after Primus came to me I learned that his schoolmaster had given him
+ a holiday task. All the "fellows" in his form had to write an essay
+ entitled "My Holidays, and How I Turned Them to Account," and to send it
+ to their preceptor. Primus troubled his head little about the task while
+ the composition of it was yet afar off; but as his time drew near he
+ referred to it with indignation, and to his master's action in prescribing
+ it as a "low trick." He frightened the housekeeper into tears by saying
+ that he would not write a line of the task, and, what <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page163" name="page163"></a></span> <a name="image-ch19-2"
+ id="image-ch19-2">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch19-2a.png"
+ style="width: 400px;height:149px; float:right; clear:right; padding:0; margin: .5em 0em 0 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;Running after sheep, from which ladies were flying&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch19-2b.png"
+ style="width: 131px;height:441px; float:right; clear:right; padding:0; margin: 0em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;Running after sheep, from which ladies were flying&quot;" /> was
+ more, he would "cheek" his master for imposing it; and I also heard that
+ he and Johnny had some thought of writing the essay in a form suggested by
+ their perusal of the "Comic History of Rome." One day I found a paper in
+ my chambers which told me that the task was nevertheless receiving serious
+ consideration. It was the instructions given by Primus's master with
+ regard to the essay, which was to be "in the form of a letter," and "not
+ less than five hundred words in length." The writer, it was suggested,
+ should give a general sketch of how he was passing his time, what books he
+ was reading, and "how he was making the home brighter." I did not know
+ that Primus had risen equal to the occasion until one day after his
+ departure, <span class="pagenum"><a id="page164" name="page164"></a>
+ </span> when I received his epistle from the schoolmaster, who wanted
+ me to say whether it was a true statement. Here is Primus's essay on his
+ holidays and how he made the home brighter:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "<span class="sc">Respected Sir</span>:&mdash;I venture to address you on
+ a subject of jeneral interest to all engaged in education, and the subject
+ I venture to address you on is, 'My Hollidays and How I Turned Them to
+ Account.' Three weeks and two days has now elapsed since I quitted your
+ scholastic establishment, and I quitted your scholastic establishment with
+ tears in my eyes, it being the one of all the scholastic establishments I
+ have been at that I loved to reside in, and everybody was of an amiable
+ disposition. Hollidays is good for making us renew our studdies with
+ redoubled vigor, the mussels needing to be invigorated, and I have not
+ overworked mind and body in my hollidays. I found my uncle well, and drove
+ in a handsome to the door, and he thought I was much improved both in
+ appearance and manners; and I said it was jew to the loving care of my
+ teacher making improvement in appearance and manners a pleasure to the
+ youth of England. My uncle was partiklarly pleased with the improvement I
+ had made, not only in my appearance and manners, but also in my studies;
+ and I told him Casear was the Latin <span class="pagenum"><a id="page165"
+ name="page165"></a></span> writer I liked best, and quoted '<i>veni,
+ vidi, vici</i>,' and some others which I regret I cannot mind at present.
+ With your kind permission I should like to write you a line about how I
+ spend my <a name="image-ch19-3" id="image-ch19-3">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch19-3a.png"
+ style="float:right; clear:right; width: 150px; margin:.5em 0em 0em 1em;padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;I should like to write you a line&quot;" /> <img
+ src="images/ch19-3b.png"
+ style="float:right; clear:right; width: 106px; margin:0em 0em .5em 1em;padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;I should like to write you a line&quot;" /> days during the
+ hollidays; and my first way of spending my days during the hollidays is
+ whatsoever my hands find to do doing it with all my might; also setting my
+ face nobly against hurting the fealings of others, and minding to say,
+ before I go to sleep, 'Something attempted, something done, to earn a
+ night's repose,' as advised by you, my esteemed communicant. I spend my
+ days during the hollidays getting up early, so as to be down in time for
+ breakfast, and not to give no trouble. At breakfast I behave like a model,
+ so as to set a good example; and then I go out for a walk with my esteemed
+ young friend, John Fox, whom I chose carefully for a friend, fearing to
+ corrupt my morals by holding communications with rude boys. The J. Fox
+ whom I mentioned is esteemed by all who knows him as of a unusually gentle
+ disposition; <span class="pagenum"><a id="page166" name="page166"></a>
+ </span> and you know him, respected sir, yourself, he being in my
+ form, and best known in regretble slang as 'Foxy.' We walks in Hyde Park
+ admiring the works of nature, and keeps up our classics when we see a tree
+ by calling it 'arbor' and then going through the declensions; but we never
+ climbs trees for fear of messing the clothes bestowed upon us by our
+ beloved parents in the sweat of their brow; and we scorns to fling stones
+ at the beautiful warblers which fill the atmosfere with music. In the
+ afternoons I spend my days during the hollidays talking with the
+ housekeeper about the things she understands, like not taking off my
+ flannels till June 15, and also praising the matron at the school for
+ seeing about the socks. In the evening I devote myself to whatever good
+ cause I can think of; and I always take off my boots and put on my
+ slippers, so as not to soil the carpet. I should like, respected sir, to
+ inform you of the books I read when my duties does not call me elsewhere;
+ and the books I read are the works of William Shakespeare, John Milton,
+ Albert Tennyson, and Francis Bacon. Me and John Fox also reads the
+ 'History of Rome,' so as to prime ourselves with the greatness of the
+ past; and we hopes the glorious examples of Romulus and Remus, but
+ especially Hannibal, <span class="pagenum"><a id="page167" name="page167"></a>
+ </span> will sink into our minds to spur us along. I am desirous to
+ acquaint you with the way I make my uncle's home brighter; but the 500
+ words is up. So looking forward eagerly to resume my studdies, I am,
+ respected sir, your dilligent pupil."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch19-t" id="image-ch19-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch19-t.png" style="width:400px;height:405px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. XIX. &quot;I am, respected sir, your diligent pupil&quot;" />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page168" name="page168"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0020" id="h2HCH0020">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER XX.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ PRIMUS TO HIS UNCLE.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch20-h" id="image-ch20-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch20-h.png"
+ style="float: left; margin: 0em 1em .5em 0em; padding:0; width:150px;height:406px;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XX." />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Though we all pretended to be glad when Primus went, we spoke of him
+ briefly at times, and I read his letters aloud at our evening meetings.
+ Here is a series of them from my desk. Primus was now a year and a half
+ older and his spelling had improved.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <i>November 16th.</i>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="sc">Dear Uncle</span>:&mdash;Though I have not written to you
+ for a long time I often think about you and Mr. Gilray and the rest and
+ the Arcadia Mixture, and I beg to state that my mother will have informed
+ you I am well and happy but a little overworked, as I am desirous of
+ pleasing my preceptor by obtaining a credible position in the exams, and
+ we breakfast at 7:30 sharp. I suppose you are to give me a six-shilling
+ thing again as a Christmas present, so I drop you a <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page169" name="page169"></a></span> line not to buy something
+ I don't want, as it is only thirty-nine days to Christmas. I think I'll
+ have a book again, but not a fairy tale or any of that sort, nor the
+ "Swiss Family Robinson," nor any of the old books. There is a rattling
+ story called "Kidnapped," by H. Rider Haggard, but it is only five
+ shillings, so if you thought of it you could make up the six shillings by
+ giving me a football belt. Last year you gave me "The Formation of
+ Character," and I read it with great mental improvement and all that, but
+ this time I want a change, namely, (1) not a fairy tale, (2) not an old
+ book, (3) not mental improvement book. Don't fix on anything without
+ telling me first what it is. Tell William John I walked into Darky and
+ settled him in three rounds. Best regards to Mr. Gilray and the others.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ II.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <i>November 19th</i>.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="sc">Dear Uncle</span>:&mdash;Our preceptor is against us
+ writing letters he doesn't see, so I have to carry the paper to the
+ dormitory up my waistcoat and write there, and I wish old Poppy smoked the
+ Arcadia Mixture to make him more like you. Never mind about the football
+ belt, as I got Johnny Fox's for two white mice; so I don't <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page170" name="page170"></a></span> want
+ "Kidnapped," which I wrote about to you, as I want you to stick to
+ six-shilling book. There is one called "Dead Man's Rock" that Dickson
+ Secundus has heard about, and it sounds well; but it is never safe to go
+ by the name, so don't buy it till I hear more about it. If you see
+ biographies of it in the newspapers you might send them to me, as it
+ should be about pirates by the title, but the author does not give his
+ name, which is rather suspicious. So, remember, don't buy it yet, and also
+ find out price, whether illustrated, and how many pages. Ballantyne's
+ story this year is about the fire-brigade; but I don't think I'll have it,
+ as he is getting rather informative, and I have one of his about the
+ fire-brigade already. Of course I don't fix not to have it, only don't buy
+ it at present. Don't buy "Dead Man's Rock" either. I am working
+ diligently, and tell the housekeeper my socks is all right. We may fix on
+ "Dead Man's Rock," but it is best not to be in a hurry.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ III.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <i>November 24th</i>.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="sc">Dear Uncle</span>:&mdash;I don't think I'll have "Dead
+ Man's Rock," as Hope has two stories out this year, and he is a safe man
+ to go to. The <span class="pagenum"><a id="page171" name="page171"></a>
+ </span> worst of it is that they are three-and-six each, and Dickson
+ Secundus says they are continuations of each other, so it is best to have
+ them both or neither. The two at three-and-six would make seven shillings,
+ and I wonder if you would care to go that length this year. I am getting
+ on first rate with my Greek, and will do capital <a name="image-ch20-1"
+ id="image-ch20-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch20-1a.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:400px;height:229px; padding:0;margin: .5em 1em 0em 0em ;"
+ alt="&quot;Reading Primus's letters&quot;" /> <img src="images/ch20-1b.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width: 87px;height: 99px; padding:0;margin: 0em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="&quot;Reading Primus's letters&quot;" /> if my health does not break
+ down with overpressure. Perhaps if you bought the two you would get them
+ for 6s. 6d. Or what do you say to the housekeeper's giving me a shilling
+ of it, and not sending the neckties?
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ IV.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <i>November 26th.</i>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="sc">Dear Uncle</span>:&mdash;I was disappointed at not
+ hearing from you this morning, but conclude <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page172" name="page172"></a></span> you are very busy. I don't
+ want Hope's books, but I think I'll rather have a football. We played
+ Gloucester on Tuesday and beat them all to sticks (five goals two tries to
+ one try!!!). It would cost 7s. 6d., and I'll make up the one-and-six
+ myself out of my pocket-money; but you can pay it all just now, and then
+ I'll pay you later when I am more flush than I am at present. I'd better
+ buy it myself, or you might not get the right kind, so you might send the
+ money in a postal order by return. You get the postal orders at the
+ nearest postoffice, and inclose them in a letter. I want the football at
+ once. (1) Not a book of any kind whatever; (2) a football, but I'll buy it
+ myself; (3) price 7s. 6d.; (4) send postal order.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ V.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <i>November 29th.</i>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="sc">Dear Uncle</span>:&mdash;Kindly inform William John that
+ I am in receipt of his favor of yesterday prox., and also your message,
+ saying am I sure it is a football I want. I have to inform you that I have
+ changed my mind and think I'll stick to a book (or two books according to
+ price), after all. Dickson Secundus has seen a newspaper biography of
+ "Dead Man's Rock" and it is ripping, but, unfortunately, there is a lot in
+ it about a girl. So don't buy "Dead Man's Rock" for <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page173" name="page173"></a></span> me. I told Fox about
+ Hope's two books and he advises me to get one of them (3s. 6d.), and to
+ take the rest of the money (2s. 6d.) in cash, making in all six shillings.
+ I don't know if I should like that plan, though fair to both parties, as
+ Dickson Secundus once took money from his father instead of a book and it
+ went like winking with nothing left to show for it; but I'll think it over
+ between my scholastic tasks and write to you again, so do nothing till you
+ hear from me, and mind I don't want football.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ VI.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <i>December 3d</i>.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="sc">Dear Uncle</span>:&mdash;Don't buy Hope's books. There is
+ a grand story out by Jules Verne about a man who made a machine that
+ enabled him to walk on his head through space with seventy-five
+ illustrations; but the worst of it is it costs half a guinea. Of course I
+ don't ask you to give so much as that; but it is a pity it cost so much,
+ as it is evidently a ripping book, and nothing like it. Ten-and-six is a
+ lot of money. What do you think? I inclose for your consideration a
+ newspaper account of it, which says it will fire the imagination and teach
+ boys to be manly and self-reliant. Of course you could not give it to me;
+ but I think it would do me good, and am working so hard that I have no
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page174" name="page174"></a></span>
+ time for physical exercise. It is to be got at all booksellers. P.S.&mdash;Fox
+ has read "Dead Man's Rock," and likes it A 1.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ VII.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <i>December 4th.</i>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="sc">Dear Uncle</span>:&mdash;I was thinking about Jules
+ Verne's book last night after I went to bed, and I see a way of getting it
+ which both Dickson Secundus and Fox consider fair. I want you to give it
+ to me as my Christmas present for both this year and next year. Thus I
+ won't want a present from you next Christmas; but I don't mind that so
+ long as I get this book. One six-shilling book this year and another next
+ year would come to 12s., and Jules Verne's book is only 10s. 6d., so this
+ plan will save you 1s. 6d. in the long run. I think you should buy it at
+ once, in case they are all sold out before Christmas.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ VIII.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <i>December 5th.</i>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="sc">My Dear Uncle</span>:&mdash;I hope you haven't bought the
+ book yet, as Dickson Secundus has found out that there is a shop in the
+ Strand where all the books are sold cheap. You get threepence off every
+ shilling, so you would get a ten-and-six book for 7s. 10-&frac12;d. That
+ will let <span class="pagenum"><a id="page175" name="page175"></a></span>
+ you get me a cheapish one next year, after all. I inclose the address.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ IX.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <i>December 7th</i>.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="sc">Dear Uncle</span>:&mdash;Dickson Secundus was looking
+ to-day at "The Formation of Character," which you gave me last year, and
+ he has found out that it was bought in the shop in the Strand that I wrote
+ you about, so you got it for 4s. 6d. We have been looking up the books I
+ got from you at other Christmases, and they all have the stamp on them
+ which shows they were bought at that shop. Some of them I got when I was a
+ kid, and that was the time you gave me 2s. and 3s. 6d. books; but Dickson
+ Secundus and Fox have been helping me to count up how much you owe me as
+ follows:
+ </p>
+ <table border="0" summary="Books and their prices" cellspacing="1" cellpadding="0">
+ <tr>
+ <td></td>
+ <td colspan="3">
+ <i>Nominal<br /> Price.</i>
+ </td>
+ <td colspan="2">
+ <i>Price<br /> Paid.</i>
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td></td>
+ <td>
+ <i>£</i>
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <i>s.</i>
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <i>d.</i>
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <i>s.</i>
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <i>d.</i>
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ 1850 "Sunshine and Shadow" ...
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 0
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 2
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 0
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 1
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 6
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ 1881 "Honesty Jack" ...
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 0
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 2
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 0
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 1
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 6
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ 1882 "The Boy Makes the Man" ...
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 0
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 3
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 6
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 2
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 7&frac12;
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ 1883 "Great Explorers" ...
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 0
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 3
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 6
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 2
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 7&frac12;
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ 1884 "Shooting the Rapids" ...
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 0
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 3
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 6
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 2
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 7&frac12;
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ 1885 "The Boy Voyagers" ...
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 0
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 5
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 0
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 3
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 9
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ 1886 "The Formation of Character"...
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 0
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 6
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 0
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 4
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 6
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td></td>
+ <td colspan="3">
+ <hr class="full" />
+ </td>
+ <td colspan="2">
+ <hr class="full" />
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td></td>
+ <td>
+ 1
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 5
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 6
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 19
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 1&frac12;
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td></td>
+ <td>
+ 0
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 19
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 1&frac12;
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td></td>
+ <td colspan="3">
+ <hr class="full" />
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td></td>
+ <td>
+ 0
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 6
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ 4&frac12;
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ </table>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page176" name="page176"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Thus 6s. 4&frac12;d. is the exact sum. The best plan will be for you not
+ to buy anything for me till I get my holidays, when my father is to bring
+ me to London. Tell William John I am coming.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ P.S.&mdash;I told my father about the Arcadia Mixture, and that is why he
+ is coming to London.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch20-t" id="image-ch20-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch20-t.jpg" style="width:400px;height:726px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. XX." />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page177" name="page177"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0021" id="h2HCH0021">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER XXI.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ ENGLISH-GROWN TOBACCO.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch21-h" id="image-ch21-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch21-ha.png"
+ style="width: 400px;height:187px; float:left; clear:left; padding:0; margin: 0em 1em 0em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XXI. &quot;English-grown tobacco&quot;" /> <img
+ src="images/ch21-hb.png"
+ style="width: 195px;height:339px; float:left; clear:left; padding:0; margin: 0em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XXI. &quot;English-grown tobacco&quot;" />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Pettigrew asked me to come to his house one evening and test some tobacco
+ that had been grown in his brother's Devonshire garden. I had so far had
+ no opportunity of judging for myself whether this attempt to grow tobacco
+ on English soil was to succeed. Very complimentary was Pettigrew's
+ assertion that he had restrained himself from trying the tobacco until we
+ could test it in company. At the dinner-table while Mrs. Pettigrew was
+ present we managed to talk for a time of other matters; but the tobacco
+ was on our minds, and <span class="pagenum"><a id="page178" name="page178"></a>
+ </span> I was glad to see that, despite her raillery, my hostess had a
+ genuine interest in the coming experiment. She drew an amusing picture, no
+ doubt a little exaggerated, of her husband's difficulty in refraining from
+ testing the tobacco until my arrival, declaring that every time she
+ entered the smoking-room she found him staring at it. Pettigrew took this
+ in good part, and informed me that she had carried the tobacco several
+ times into the drawing-room to show it proudly to her friends. He was very
+ delighted, he said, that I was to remain over night, as that would give us
+ a long evening to test the tobacco thoroughly. A neighbor of his had also
+ been experimenting; and Pettigrew, who has a considerable sense of humor,
+ told me a diverting story about this gentleman and his friends having
+ passed judgment on home-grown tobacco after smoking one pipe of it! We
+ were laughing over the ridiculously unsatisfactory character of this test
+ (so called) when we adjourned to the smoking-room. Before we did so Mrs.
+ Pettigrew bade me good-night. She had also left strict orders with the
+ servants that we were on no account to be disturbed.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As soon as we were comfortably seated in our smoking-chairs, which takes
+ longer than some people think, Pettigrew offered me a <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page179" name="page179"></a></span> Cabana. I would have
+ preferred to begin at once with the tobacco; but of course he was my host,
+ and I put myself entirely in his hands. I noticed that, from the moment
+ his wife left us, he was a little excited, talking more than is his wont.
+ He seemed to think that he was not doing his duty as a host if the
+ conversation flagged for a moment, and what was still more curious, he
+ spoke of everything except his garden tobacco. I emphasize this here at
+ starting, lest any one should think that I was in any way responsible for
+ the manner in which our experiment was conducted. If fault there was, it
+ lies at Pettigrew's door. I remember distinctly asking him&mdash;not in a
+ half-hearted way, but boldly&mdash;to produce his tobacco. I did this at
+ an early hour of the proceedings, immediately after I had lighted a second
+ cigar. The reason I took that cigar will be obvious to every gentleman who
+ smokes. Had I declined it, Pettigrew might have thought that I disliked
+ the brand, which would have been painful to him. However, he did not at
+ once bring out the tobacco; indeed, his precise words, I remember, were
+ that we had lots of time. As his guest I could not press him further.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Pettigrew smokes more quickly than I do, and he had reached the end of his
+ second cigar <span class="pagenum"><a id="page180" name="page180"></a>
+ </span> when there was still five minutes of mine left. It distresses
+ me to have to say what followed. He hastily lighted a third cigar, and
+ then, unlocking a cupboard, produced about two ounces of his garden
+ tobacco. His object was only too plain. Having just begun a third cigar he
+ could not be expected to try the tobacco at present, but there was nothing
+ to prevent my trying it. I regarded Pettigrew rather contemptuously, and
+ then I looked with much interest at the tobacco. It was of an inky color.
+ When I looked up I caught Pettigrew's eye on me. He withdrew it hurriedly,
+ but soon afterward I saw him looking in the same sly way again. There was
+ a rather painful silence for a time, and then he asked me if I had
+ anything to say. I replied firmly that I was looking forward to trying the
+ tobacco with very great interest. By this time my cigar was reduced to a
+ stump, but, for reasons that Pettigrew misunderstood, I continued to smoke
+ it. Somehow our chairs had got out of position now, and we were sitting
+ with our backs to each other. I felt that Pettigrew was looking at me
+ covertly over his shoulder, and took a side glance to make sure of this.
+ Our eyes met, and I bit my lip. If there is one thing I loathe, it is to
+ be looked at in this shame-faced manner.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page181" name="page181"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I continued to smoke the stump of my cigar until it scorched my under-lip,
+ and at intervals Pettigrew said, without looking round, that my cigar
+ seemed everlasting. I treated his innuendo with contempt; but at last I
+ had to let the cigar-end go. Not to make a fuss, I dropped it very
+ quietly; but Pettigrew must have been listening for the sound. He wheeled
+ round at once, and pushed the garden tobacco toward me. Never, perhaps,
+ have I thought so little of him as at that moment. My indignation probably
+ showed in my face, for he drew back, saying that he thought I "wanted to
+ try it." Now I had never said that I did not want to try it. The reader
+ has seen that I went to Pettigrew's house solely with the object of trying
+ the tobacco. Had Pettigrew, then, any ground for insinuating that I did
+ not mean to try it? Restraining my passion, I lighted a third cigar, and
+ then put the question to him bluntly. Did he, or did he not, mean to try
+ that tobacco? I dare say I was a little brusque; but it must be remembered
+ that I had come all the way from the inn, at considerable inconvenience,
+ to give the tobacco a thorough trial.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As is the way with men of Pettigrew's type, when you corner them, he
+ attempted to put the blame on me. "Why had I not tried the tobacco," <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page182" name="page182"></a></span> <a
+ name="image-ch21-1" id="image-ch21-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch21-1a.png"
+ style="width: 400px;height:128px; float:left; clear:left; padding:0; margin: .5em 1em 0em 0em;"
+ alt="&quot;I smoked my third cigar very slowly&quot;" /> <img
+ src="images/ch21-1b.png"
+ style="width: 165px;height:550px; float:left; clear:left; padding:0; margin: 0em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="&quot;I smoked my third cigar very slowly&quot;" /> he asked, "instead
+ of taking a third cigar?" For reply, I asked bitingly if that was not his
+ third cigar. He admitted it was, but said that he smoked more quickly than
+ I did, as if that put his behavior in a more favorable light. I smoked my
+ third cigar very slowly, not because I wanted to put off the experiment;
+ for, as every one must have noted, I was most anxious to try it, but just
+ to see what would happen. When Pettigrew had finished his cigar&mdash;and
+ I thought he would never be done with it&mdash;he gazed at the garden
+ tobacco for a time, and then took a pipe from the mantelpiece. He held it
+ first in one hand, then in the other, and then he brightened up and said
+ he would clean his pipes. <span class="pagenum"><a id="page183"
+ name="page183"></a></span> This he did very slowly. When he had
+ cleaned all his pipes he again looked at the garden tobacco, which I
+ pushed toward him. He glared at me as if I had not been doing a friendly
+ thing, and then said, in an apologetic manner, that he would smoke a pipe
+ until my cigar was finished. I said "All right" cordially, thinking that
+ he now meant to begin the experiment; but conceive my feelings when he
+ produced a jar of the Arcadia Mixture. He filled his pipe with this and
+ proceeded to light it, looking at me defiantly. His excuse about waiting
+ till I had finished was too pitiful to take notice of. I finished my cigar
+ in a few minutes, and now was the time when I would have liked to begin
+ the experiment. As Pettigrew's guest, however, I could not take that
+ liberty, though he impudently pushed the garden tobacco toward me. I
+ produced my pipe, my intention being only to half fill it with Arcadia, so
+ that Pettigrew and I might finish our pipes at the same time. Custom,
+ however, got the better of me, and inadvertently I filled my pipe, only
+ noticing this when it was too late to remedy the mistake. Pettigrew thus
+ finished before me; and though I advised him to begin on the garden
+ tobacco without waiting for me, he insisted on smoking half a pipeful of
+ Arcadia, just to <span class="pagenum"><a id="page184" name="page184"></a>
+ </span> keep me company. It was an extraordinary thing that, try as we
+ might, we could not finish our pipes at the same time.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ About 2 A.M. Pettigrew said something about going to bed; and I rose and
+ put down my pipe. We stood looking at the fireplace for a time, and he
+ expressed regret that I had to leave so early in the morning. Then he put
+ out two of the lights, and after that we both looked at the garden
+ tobacco. He seemed to have a sudden idea; for rather briskly he tied the
+ tobacco up into a neat paper parcel and handed it to me, saying that I
+ would perhaps give it a trial at the inn. I took it without a word, but
+ opening my hand suddenly I let it fall. My first impulse was to pick it
+ up; but then it struck me that Pettigrew had not noticed what had
+ happened, and that, were he to see me pick it up, he might think that I
+ had not taken sufficient care of it. So I let it lie, and, bidding him
+ good-night, went off to bed. I was at the foot of the stair when I thought
+ that, after all, I should like the tobacco, so I returned. I could not see
+ the package anywhere, but something was fizzing up the chimney, and
+ Pettigrew had the tongs in his hand. He muttered something about his wife
+ taking up wrong notions. Next morning that lady was very satirical <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page185" name="page185"></a></span> about
+ our having smoked the whole two ounces.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch21-t" id="image-ch21-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch21-t.png" style="width:400px;height:467px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. XXI." />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page186" name="page186"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0022" id="h2HCH0022">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch22-h" id="image-ch22-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch22-h.png" style="width:400px;height:371px;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XXII. &quot;How heroes smoke&quot;" />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER XXII.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ HOW HEROES SMOKE.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ On a tiger-skin from the ice-clad regions of the sunless north recline the
+ heroes of Ouida, rose-scented cigars in their mouths; themselves
+ gloriously indolent and disdainful, but perhaps huddled a little too
+ closely together on account of the limited accommodation. Strathmore is
+ here. But I never felt sure of Strathmore. Was there not less in him than
+ met the eye? <span class="pagenum"><a id="page187" name="page187"></a>
+ </span> His place, Whiteladies, was a home for kings and queens; but
+ he was not the luxurious, magnanimous creature he feigned to be. A host
+ may be known by the cigars he keeps; and, though it is perhaps a startling
+ thing to say, we have good reason for believing that Strathmore did not
+ buy good cigars. I question very much whether he had many Havanas, even of
+ the second quality, at Whiteladies; if he had, he certainly kept them
+ locked up. Only once does he so much as refer to them when at his own
+ place, and then in the most general and suspicious way. "Bah!" he exclaims
+ to a friend; "there is Phil smoking these wretched musk-scented cigarettes
+ again! they are only fit for Lady Georgie or Eulalie Papellori. What
+ taste, when there are my Havanas and cheroots!" The remark, in whatever
+ way considered, is suggestive. In the first place, it is made late in the
+ evening, after Strathmore and his friend have left the smoking-room. Thus
+ it is a safe observation. I would not go so far as to say that he had no
+ Havanas in the house; the likelihood is that he had a few in his
+ cigar-case, kept there for show rather than use. These, if I understand
+ the man, would be a good brand, but of small size&mdash;perhaps Reinas&mdash;and
+ they would hardly be of a well-known crop. In <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page188" name="page188"></a></span> color they would be dark&mdash;say
+ maduro&mdash;and he would explain that he bought them because he liked
+ full-flavored weeds. Possibly he had a Villar y Villar box with six or
+ eight in the bottom of it; but boxes are not cigars. What he did provide
+ his friends with was Manillas. He smoked them himself, and how careful he
+ was of them is seen on every other page. He is constantly stopping in the
+ middle of his conversation to "curl a loose leaf round his Manilla;" when
+ one would have expected a hero like Strathmore to fling away a cigar when
+ its leaves began to untwist, and light another. So thrifty is Strathmore
+ that he even laboriously "curls the leaves round his cigarettes"&mdash;he
+ does not so much as pretend that they are Egyptian; nay, even when
+ quarrelling with Errol, his beloved friend (whom he shoots through the
+ heart), he takes a cigarette from his mouth and "winds a loosened leaf"
+ round it.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch22-1" id="image-ch22-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch22-1.png"
+ style="float:right;width: 150px;padding:0;margin: .5em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;Once, indeed, we do see Strathmore smoking a good cigar&quot;" />
+ If Strathmore's Manillas were Capitan Generals they would cost him about
+ 24s. a hundred. The probability, however, is that they were of inferior
+ quality; say, 17s. 6d. It need hardly be said that a good Manilla does not
+ constantly require to have its leaves "curled." When Errol goes into the
+ garden to smoke, he has every other minute to "strike a fusee;" from <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page189" name="page189"></a></span> which
+ it may be inferred that his cigar frequently goes out. This is in itself
+ suspicious. Errol, too, is more than once seen by his host wandering in
+ the grounds at night, with a cigar between his teeth. Strathmore thinks
+ his susceptible friend has a love affair on hand; but is it not at least
+ as probable an explanation that Errol had a private supply of cigars at
+ Whiteladies, and from motives of delicacy did not like to smoke them in
+ his host's presence? Once, indeed, we do see Strathmore smoking a good
+ cigar, though we are not told how he came by it. When talking of the
+ Vavasour, he "sticks his penknife through his Cabana," with the object,
+ obviously, of smoking it to the bitter end. Another lady novelist, who is
+ also an authority on tobacco, Miss Rhoda Broughton, contemptuously
+ dismisses a claimant for the heroship of one of her stories, as the kind
+ of man who turns up his trousers at the foot. It would have been just as
+ withering to say that he stuck a penknife through his cigars.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ There is another true hero with me, whose <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page190" name="page190"></a></span> <a name="image-ch22-2"
+ id="image-ch22-2">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch22-2a.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:150px;height: 38px;margin: .5em 1em 0em 0em; padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;A half-smoked cigar&quot;" /> <img src="images/ch22-2b.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:100px;height:402px;margin: 0em 1.5em 0em 0em; padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;A half-smoked cigar&quot;" /> <img src="images/ch22-2c.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:150px;height: 38px;margin: 0em 1em .5em 0em; padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;A half-smoked cigar&quot;" /> creator has unintentionally
+ misrepresented him. It is he of "Comin' thro' the Rye," a gentleman whom
+ the maidens of the nineteenth century will not willingly let die. He is
+ grand, no doubt; and yet, the more one thinks about him, the plainer it
+ becomes that had the heroine married him she would have been bitterly
+ disenchanted. In her company he was magnanimous; god-like, prodigal; but
+ in his smoking-room he showed himself in his true colors. Every lady will
+ remember the scene where he rushes to the heroine's home and implores her
+ to return with him to the bedside of his dying wife. The sudden
+ announcement that his wife&mdash;whom he had thought in a good state of
+ health&mdash;is dying, is surely enough to startle even a miser out of his
+ niggardliness, much less a hero; and yet what do we find Vasher doing? The
+ heroine, in frantic excitement, has to pass through his smoking room, and
+ on the table she sees&mdash;what? "A half-smoked cigar." He was in the
+ middle of it when a servant came to <span class="pagenum"><a id="page191"
+ name="page191"></a></span> tell him of his wife's dying request;
+ and, before hastening to execute her wishes, he carefully laid what was
+ left of his cigar upon the table&mdash;meaning, of course, to relight it
+ when he came back. Though she did not think so, our heroine's father was a
+ much more remarkable man than Vasher. He "blew out long, comfortable
+ clouds" that made the whole of his large family "cough and wink again." No
+ ordinary father could do that.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Among my smoking-room favorites is the hero of Miss Adeline Sergeant's
+ story, "Touch and Go." He is a war correspondent; and when he sees a body
+ of the enemy bearing down upon him and the wounded officer whom he has
+ sought to save, he imperturbably offers his companion a cigar. They calmly
+ smoke on while the foe gallop up. There is something grand in this, even
+ though the kind of cigar is not mentioned.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I see a bearded hero, with slouch hat and shepherd's crook, a clay pipe in
+ his mouth. He is a Bohemian&mdash;ever a popular type of hero; and the
+ Bohemian is to be known all the world over by the pipe, which he prefers
+ to a cigar. The tall, scornful gentleman who leans lazily against the
+ door, "blowing great clouds of smoke into the air," is the hero of a
+ hundred novels. <span class="pagenum"><a id="page192" name="page192"></a>
+ </span> <a name="image-ch22-3" id="image-ch22-3">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <span style=""> <img src="images/ch22-3.png"
+ style="width: 100px;clear:left; float: left; margin: .5em 1em .5em 0em; padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;The tall, scornful gentleman who leans lazily against the door&quot;" />
+ </span> That is how he is always standing when the heroine, having need of
+ something she has left in the drawing-room, glides down the stairs at
+ night in her dressing-gown (her beautiful hair, released from its ribbons,
+ streaming down her neck and shoulders), and comes most unexpectedly upon
+ him. He is young. The senior, over whose face "a smile flickers for a
+ moment" when the heroine says something naïve, and whom she (entirely
+ misunderstanding her feelings) thinks she hates, smokes unostentatiously;
+ but though a little inclined to quiet "chaff," he is a man of deep
+ feeling. By and by he will open out and gather her up in his arms. The
+ scorner's chair is filled. I see him, shadow-like, a sad-eyed, <i>blasé</i>
+ gentleman, who has been adored by all the beauties of fifteen seasons, and
+ yet speaks of woman with a contemptuous sneer. Great, however, is love;
+ and the vulgar little girl who talks slang will prove to him in our next
+ volume that there is still one peerless beyond all others of her sex. Ah,
+ a <span class="pagenum"><a id="page193" name="page193"></a></span>
+ wondrous thing is love! On every side of me there are dark, handsome men,
+ with something sinister in their smile, "casting away their cigars with a
+ muffled curse." No novel would be complete without them. When they are
+ foiled by the brave girl of the narrative, it is the recognized course
+ with them to fling away their cigars with a muffled curse. Any kind of
+ curse would do, but muffled ones are preferred.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch22-t" id="image-ch22-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch22-t.png" style="width:300px;height:798px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. XXII." />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page194" name="page194"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0023" id="h2HCH0023">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER XXIII.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS EVE.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch23-h" id="image-ch23-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch23-h.png"
+ style="width: 150px; float:left; margin-right: 1em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XXIII." />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ A few years ago, as some may remember, a startling ghost-paper appeared in
+ the monthly organ of the Society for Haunting Houses. The writer
+ guaranteed the truth of his statement, and even gave the name of the
+ Yorkshire manor-house in which the affair took place. The article and the
+ discussion to which it gave rise agitated me a good deal, and I consulted
+ Pettigrew about the advisability of clearing up the mystery. The writer
+ wrote that he "distinctly saw his arm pass through the apparition and come
+ out at the other side," and indeed I still remember his saying so next
+ morning. He had a scared face, but I had presence of mind to continue
+ eating my rolls and marmalade as if my brier had nothing to do with the
+ miraculous affair.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page195" name="page195"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height:2em; clear:both;">
+ &nbsp;
+ </div>
+ <div class="figinset" style="width:500px!important; margin:auto; clear:both;">
+ <a name="image-ch23-1" id="image-ch23-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch23-1a.png"
+ style="width:400px;height:169px;float:left;clear:both;margin:0px 50px 0px 50px!important;padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;The ghost of Christmas eve&quot;" /> <img
+ src="images/ch23-1b.png"
+ style="width:106px;height:535px;float:left;clear:left;margin:0px 5px 0px 50px!important;padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;The ghost of Christmas eve&quot;" /> <img
+ src="images/ch23-1c.png"
+ style="width: 85px;height:535px;float:right;margin:0px 50px 0px 5px!important;padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;The ghost of Christmas eve&quot;" /> <img
+ src="images/ch23-1d.png"
+ style="width:400px;height: 80px;float:left;clear:left;margin:0px 50px 50px 50px!important;padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;The ghost of Christmas eve&quot;" /> <span
+ style="text-indent:1em; text-align:justify;font-size:120%;"> Seeing that
+ he made a "paper" of it, I suppose he is justified in touching up the
+ incidental details. He says, for instance, that we were told the story of
+ the ghost which is said to haunt the house, just before going to bed. As
+ far as I remember, it was only mentioned at luncheon, and then
+ sceptically. Instead of there being snow falling outside and an eerie wind
+ wailing through the skeleton trees, the night was still and muggy.</span>
+ </div>
+ <p style="text-indent:0em; text-align:justify;font-size:120%;clear:both;">
+ Lastly, I did not know, until the journal reached my hands, that he was
+ put <span class="pagenum"><a id="page196" name="page196"></a></span>
+ into the room known as the Haunted Chamber, nor that in that room the fire
+ is noted for casting weird shadows upon the walls. This, however, may be
+ so. The legend of the manor-house ghost he tells precisely as it is known
+ to me. The tragedy dates back to the time of Charles I., and is led up to
+ by a pathetic love-story, which I need not give. Suffice it that for seven
+ days and nights the old steward had been anxiously awaiting the return of
+ his young master and mistress from their honeymoon. On Christmas eve,
+ after he had gone to bed, there was a great clanging of the door-bell.
+ Flinging on a dressing-gown, he hastened downstairs. According to the
+ story, a number of servants watched him, and saw by the light of his
+ candle that his face was an ashy white. He took off the chains of the
+ door, unbolted it, and pulled it open. What he saw no human being knows;
+ but it must have been something awful, for, without a cry, the old steward
+ fell dead in the hall. Perhaps the strangest part of the story is this:
+ that the shadow of a burly man, holding a pistol in his hand, entered by
+ the open door, stepped over the steward's body, and, gliding up the
+ stairs, disappeared, no one could say where. Such is the legend. I shall
+ not tell the many ingenious explanations of it that <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page197" name="page197"></a></span> have been offered. Every
+ Christmas eve, however, the silent scene is said to be gone through again;
+ and tradition declares that no person lives for twelve months at whom the
+ ghostly intruder points his pistol.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch23-2" id="image-ch23-2">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch23-2a.png"
+ style="float:right;clear:both;width:70px;height:389px;padding:0; margin: .5em 0em 0em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;My pipe&quot;" /> <img src="images/ch23-2b.png"
+ style="float:right;clear:right;width:150px;height:39px;padding:0;margin: 0em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;My pipe&quot;" />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ On Christmas Day the gentleman who tells the tale in a scientific journal
+ created some sensation at the breakfast-table by solemnly asserting that
+ he had seen the ghost. Most of the men present scouted his story, which
+ may be condensed into a few words. He had retired to his bedroom at a
+ fairly early hour, and as he opened the door his candle-light was blown
+ out. He tried to get a light from the fire, but it was too low, and
+ eventually he went to bed in the semi-darkness. He was wakened&mdash;he
+ did not know at what hour&mdash;by the clanging of a bell. He sat up in
+ bed, and the ghost-story came in a rush to his mind. His fire was dead,
+ and the room was consequently dark; yet by and by he knew, though he heard
+ no sound, that his door had opened. He cried out, "Who is that?" but got
+ no answer. By an effort he jumped up and went to the door, which was ajar.
+ His bedroom was on the first floor, and looking up the stairs he could see
+ nothing. He felt a cold sensation at his heart, however, when he looked
+ the other way. Going slowly and without a <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page198" name="page198"></a></span> sound down the stairs, was
+ an old man in a dressing-gown. He carried a candle. From the top of the
+ stairs only part of the hall is visible, but as the apparition disappeared
+ the watcher had the courage to go down a few steps after him. At first
+ nothing was to be seen, for the candle-light had vanished. A dim light,
+ however, entered by the long, narrow windows which flank the hall door,
+ and after a moment the on-looker could see that the hall was empty. He was
+ marvelling at this sudden disappearance of the steward, when, to his
+ horror, he saw a body fall upon the hall floor within a few feet of the
+ door. The watcher cannot say whether he cried out, nor how long he stood
+ there trembling. He came to himself with a start as he realized that
+ something was coming up the stairs. Fear prevented his taking flight, and
+ in a moment the thing was at his side. Then he saw indistinctly that it
+ was not the figure he had seen descend. He saw a younger man, in a heavy
+ overcoat, but with no hat on his head. He wore on his face a look of
+ extravagant triumph. The guest boldly put out his hand toward the figure.
+ To his amazement his arm went through it. The ghost paused for a moment
+ and looked behind it. It was then the watcher realized that it carried a
+ pistol in its <span class="pagenum"><a id="page199" name="page199"></a>
+ </span> right hand. He was by this time in a highly strung condition,
+ and he stood trembling lest the pistol should be pointed at him. The
+ apparition, however, rapidly glided up the stairs and was soon lost to
+ sight. Such are the main facts of the story, none of which I contradicted
+ at the time.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch23-3" id="image-ch23-3">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch23-3.png" style="width:400px;height:240px;"
+ alt="&quot;My brier, which I found beneath my pillow&quot;" />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ I cannot say absolutely that I can clear up
+ <!-- ch23-2 image moved up from here --> this mystery, but my suspicions
+ are confirmed by a good deal of circumstantial evidence. This will not be
+ understood unless I explain my strange infirmity. Wherever I went I used
+ to be troubled with a presentiment that I had left my pipe behind. Often,
+ even at the dinner-table, I paused in the middle of a sentence as if
+ stricken with sudden pain. Then my hand went down to my pocket. Sometimes
+ even after I felt my pipe, I had a conviction that it was stopped, and
+ only by a desperate effort did I keep myself from producing it and blowing
+ down it. I distinctly remember once dreaming three nights in succession
+ that I was on the Scotch express without it. More than once, I know, I
+ have <span class="pagenum"><a id="page200" name="page200"></a></span>
+ wandered in my sleep, looking for it in all sorts of places, and after I
+ went to bed I generally jumped out, just to make sure of it. My strong
+ belief, then, is that I was the ghost seen by the writer of the paper. I
+ fancy that I rose in my sleep, lighted a candle, and wandered down to the
+ hall to feel if my pipe was safe in my coat, which was hanging there.
+ <!-- ch23-3 image moved up from here --> The light had gone out when I
+ was in the hall. Probably the body seen to fall on the hall floor was some
+ other coat which I had flung there to get more easily at my own. I cannot
+ account for the bell; but perhaps the gentleman in the Haunted Chamber
+ dreamed that part of the affair. I had put on the overcoat before
+ reascending; indeed I may say that next morning <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page201" name="page201"></a></span> I was surprised to find it
+ on a chair in my bedroom, also to notice that there were several long
+ streaks of candle-grease on my dressing-gown. I conclude that the pistol,
+ which gave my face such a look of triumph, was my brier, which I found in
+ the morning beneath my pillow. The strangest thing of all, perhaps, is
+ that when I awoke there was a smell of tobacco-smoke in the bedroom.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch23-t" id="image-ch23-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch23-t.png" style="width:400px;height:202px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. XXIII." />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page202" name="page202"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0024" id="h2HCH0024">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER XXIV.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ NOT THE ARCADIA.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch24-h" id="image-ch24-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch24-ha.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:200px;height:146px;padding:0;margin:0em 1em 0em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XXIV. &quot;But the pipes were old friends&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch24-hb.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:113px;height:105px;padding:0;margin:0em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XXIV. &quot;But the pipes were old friends&quot;" />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Those who do not know the Arcadia may have a mixture that their uneducated
+ palate loves, but they are always ready to try other mixtures. The
+ Arcadian, however, will never help himself from an outsider's pouch.
+ Nevertheless, there was one black week when we all smoked the ordinary
+ tobaccoes. Owing to a terrible oversight on the part of our purveyor,
+ there was no Arcadia to smoke.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ We ought to have put our pipes aside and existed on cigars; but the pipes
+ were old friends, and desert them we could not. Each of us bought a
+ different mixture, but they tasted alike and were equally abominable. I
+ fell ill. Doctor Southwick, knowing no better, called my malady <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page203" name="page203"></a></span> by a
+ learned name, but I knew to what I owed it. Never shall I forget my
+ delight when Jimmy broke into my room one day with a pound-tin of the
+ Arcadia. Weak though I was, I opened my window and, seizing the half-empty
+ packet of tobacco that had made me ill, hurled it into the street. The
+ tobacco scattered before it fell, but I sat at the window gloating over
+ the packet, which lay a dirty scrap of paper, where every cab might pass
+ over it. What I call the street is more strictly a square, for my windows
+ were at the back of the inn, and their view was somewhat plebeian. The
+ square is the meeting-place of five streets, and at the corner of each the
+ paper was caught up in a draught that bore it along to the next.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Here, it may be thought, I gladly forgot the cause of my troubles, but I
+ really watched the paper for days. My doctor came in while I was still
+ staring at it, and instead of prescribing more medicine, he made a bet
+ with me. It was that the scrap of paper would disappear before the
+ dissolution of the government. I said it would be fluttering around after
+ the government was dissolved, and if I lost, the doctor was to get a new
+ stethoscope. If I won, my bill was to be accounted discharged. Thus,
+ strange as it seemed, I had now cause to take a friendly <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page204" name="page204"></a></span>
+ interest in paper that I had previously loathed. Formerly the sight of it
+ made me miserable; now I dreaded losing it. But I looked for it when I
+ rose in the morning, and I could tell at once by its appearance what kind
+ of night it had passed. Nay, more: I believed I was able to decide how the
+ wind had been since sundown, whether there had been much traffic, and if
+ the fire-engine had been out. There is a fire-station within view of the
+ windows, and the paper had a specially crushed appearance, as if the heavy
+ engine ran over it. However, though I felt certain that I could pick my
+ scrap of paper out of a thousand scraps, the doctor insisted on making
+ sure. The bet was consigned to writing on the very piece of paper that
+ suggested it. The doctor went out and captured it himself. On the back of
+ it the conditions of the wager were formally drawn up and signed by both
+ of us. Then we opened the window and the paper was cast forth again. The
+ doctor solemnly promised not to interfere with it, and I gave him a
+ convalescent's word of honor to report progress honestly.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Several days elapsed, and I no longer found time heavy on my hands. My
+ attention was divided between two papers, the scrap in the square and my
+ daily copy of the <i>Times</i>. Any <span class="pagenum"><a id="page205"
+ name="page205"></a></span> morning the one might tell me that I
+ had lost my bet, or the other that I had won it; and I hurried to the
+ window fearing that the paper had migrated to another square, and hoping
+ my <i>Times</i> might contain the information that the government was out.
+ I felt that neither could last very much longer. It was remarkable how
+ much my interest in politics had increased since I made this wager.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The doctor, I believe, relied chiefly on the <a name="image-ch24-1"
+ id="image-ch24-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch24-1.png"
+ style="float:right;width:200px;height:179px; padding:0; margin: .5em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;It had the paper in its mouth&quot;" /> scavengers. He thought
+ they were sure to pounce upon the scrap soon. I did not, however, see why
+ I should fear them. They came into the square so seldom, and stayed so
+ short a time when they did come, that I disregarded them. If the doctor
+ knew how much they kept away he might say I bribed them. But perhaps he
+ knew their ways. I got a fright one day from a dog. It was one of those
+ low-looking animals that infest the square occasionally in half-dozens,
+ but seldom alone. It ran up one of the side streets, and before I realized
+ what had happened it had the paper in its mouth. Then it stood still and
+ looked <span class="pagenum"><a id="page206" name="page206"></a></span>
+ around. For me that was indeed a trying moment. I stood at the window.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The impulse seized me to fling open the sash and shake my fist at the
+ brute; but luckily I remembered in time my promise to the doctor. I
+ question if man was ever so interested in mongrel before. At one of the
+ street corners there was a house to let, being meantime, as I had reason
+ to believe, in the care of the wife of a police constable. A cat was often
+ to be seen coming up from the area to lounge in the doorway. To that cat I
+ firmly believe I owe it that I did not then lose my wager. Faithful
+ animal! it came up to the door, it stretched itself; in the act of doing
+ so it caught sight of the dog, and put up its back. The dog, resenting
+ this demonstration of feeling, dropped the scrap of paper and made for the
+ cat. I sank back into my chair.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ There was a greater disaster to be recorded next day. A workingman in the
+ square, looking about him for a pipe-light, espied the paper frisking near
+ the curb-stone. He picked it up with the obvious intention of lighting it
+ at the stove of a wandering vender of hot chestnuts who had just crossed
+ the square. The workingman followed, twisting the paper as he went, when&mdash;good
+ luck again&mdash;a young butcher <span class="pagenum"><a id="page207"
+ name="page207"></a></span> almost ran into him, and the loafer,
+ with true presence of mind, at once asked him for a match. At any rate a
+ match passed between them; and, to my infinite relief, the paper was flung
+ away.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I concealed the cause of my excitement from William John. He nevertheless
+ wondered to see me run to the window every time the wind seemed to be
+ rising, and getting anxious when it rained. Seeing that my health
+ prevented my leaving the house, he could not make out why I should be so
+ interested in the weather. Once I thought he was fairly on the scent. A
+ sudden blast of wind had caught up the paper and whirled it high in the
+ air. I may have uttered an ejaculation, for he came hurrying to the
+ window. He found me pointing unwittingly to what was already a white speck
+ sailing to the roof of the fire-station. "Is it a pigeon?" he asked. I
+ caught at the idea. "Yes, a carrier-pigeon," I murmured in reply; "they
+ sometimes, I believe, send messages to the fire-stations in that way."
+ Coolly as I said this, I was conscious of grasping the window-sill in pure
+ nervousness till the scrap began to flutter back into the square.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Next it was squeezed between two of the bars of a drain. That was the last
+ I saw of it, <span class="pagenum"><a id="page208" name="page208"></a>
+ </span> and the following morning the doctor had won his stethoscope&mdash;only
+ by a few hours, however, for the government's end was announced in the
+ evening papers. My defeat discomfited me for a little, but soon I was
+ pleased that I had lost. I would not care to win a bet over any mixture
+ but the Arcadia.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch24-t" id="image-ch24-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch24-t.png" style="width:400px;height:548px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. XXIV. &quot;I was pleased that I had lost&quot;" />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page209" name="page209"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0025" id="h2HCH0025">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch25-h" id="image-ch25-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch25-ha.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:400px;height:372px;padding:0;margin: 0em 1em 0em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XXV. &quot;A face that haunted Marriot&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch25-hb.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:280px;height:233px;padding:0;margin: 0em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XXV. &quot;A face that haunted Marriot&quot;" />
+ </p>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER XXV.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ A FACE THAT HAUNTED MARRIOT.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ "This is not a love affair," Marriot shouted, apologetically.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He had sat the others out again, but when I saw his intention I escaped
+ into my bedroom, and now refused to come out.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "Look here," he cried, changing his tone, "if you don't come out I'll tell
+ you all about it through the keyhole. It is the most extraordinary story,
+ and I can't keep it to myself. On <span class="pagenum"><a id="page210"
+ name="page210"></a></span> my word of honor it isn't a love affair&mdash;at
+ least not exactly."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I let him talk after I had gone to bed.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "You must know," he said, dropping cigarette ashes onto my pillow every
+ minute, "that some time ago I fell in with Jack Goring's father, Colonel
+ Goring. Jack and I had been David and Jonathan at Cambridge, and though we
+ had not met for years, I looked forward with pleasure to meeting him
+ again. He was a widower, and his father and he kept joint house. But the
+ house was dreary now, for the colonel was alone in it. Jack was off on a
+ scientific expedition to the Pacific; all the girls had been married for
+ years. After dinner my host and I had rather a dull hour in the
+ smoking-room. I could not believe that Jack had grown very stout. 'I'll
+ show you his photograph,' said the colonel. An album was brought down from
+ a dusty shelf, and then I had to admit that my old friend had become
+ positively corpulent. But it is not Jack I want to speak about. I turned
+ listlessly over the pages of the album, stopping suddenly at the face of a
+ beautiful girl. You are not asleep, are you?
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "I am not naturally sentimental, as you know, and even now I am not
+ prepared to admit that I fell in love with this face. It was not, I think,
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page211" name="page211"></a></span>
+ that kind of attraction. Possibly I should have passed the photograph by
+ had it not suggested old times to me&mdash;old times with a veil over
+ them, for I could not identify the face. That I had at some period of my
+ life known the original I felt certain, but I tapped my memory in vain.
+ The lady was a lovely blonde, with a profusion of fair hair, and delicate
+ features that were Roman when they were not Greek. To describe a beautiful
+ woman is altogether beyond me. No doubt this face had faults. I fancy, for
+ instance, that there was little character in the chin, and that the eyes
+ were 'melting' rather than expressive. It was a vignette, the hands being
+ clasped rather fancifully at the back of the head. My fingers drummed on
+ the album as I sat there pondering; but when or where I had met the
+ original I could not decide. The colonel could give me no information. The
+ album was Jack's, he said, and probably had not been opened for years. The
+ photograph, too, was an old one; he was sure it had been in the house long
+ before his son's marriage, so that (and here the hard-hearted old
+ gentleman chuckled) it could no longer be like the original. As he seemed
+ inclined to become witty at my expense, I closed the album, and soon
+ afterward I went away. I say, wake up!
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page212" name="page212"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch25-1" id="image-ch25-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch25-1a.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:107px;height: 69px;padding:0;margin: 1em 1em 0em 0em;"
+ alt="&quot;There was the French girl at Algiers&quot;" /> <img
+ src="images/ch25-1b.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width: 55px;height:130px;padding:0;margin: 0em 1em 0em 0em;"
+ alt="&quot;There was the French girl at Algiers&quot;" /> <img
+ src="images/ch25-1c.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:100px;height: 60px;padding:0;margin: 0em 1em 0em 0em;"
+ alt="&quot;There was the French girl at Algiers&quot;" /> <img
+ src="images/ch25-1d.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:150px;height:195px;padding:0;margin: 0em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="&quot;There was the French girl at Algiers&quot;" />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "From that evening the face haunted me. I do not mean that it possessed me
+ to the exclusion of everything else, but at odd moments it would rise
+ before me, and then I fell into a revery. You must have noticed my
+ thoughtfulness of late. Often I have laid down my paper at the club and
+ tried to think back to the original. She was probably better known to Jack
+ Goring than to myself. All I was sure of was that she had been known to
+ both of us. Jack and I had first met at Cambridge. I thought over the
+ ladies I had known there, especially those who had been friends of
+ Goring's. Jack had never been a 'lady's man' precisely; but, as he used to
+ say, comparing himself with me, 'he had a heart.' The annals of our
+ Cambridge days were searched in vain. I tried the country house in which
+ he and I had spent a good many of <span class="pagenum"><a id="page213"
+ name="page213"></a></span> our vacations. Suddenly I remembered
+ the reading-party in Devonshire&mdash;but no, she was dark. Once Jack and
+ I had a romantic adventure in Glencoe in which a lady and her daughter
+ were concerned. We tried to make the most of it; but in our hearts we
+ knew, after we had seen her by the morning light, that the daughter was
+ not beautiful. Then there was the French girl at Algiers. Jack had kept me
+ hanging on in Algiers a week longer than we meant to stay. The pose of the
+ head, the hands clasped behind it, a trick so irritatingly familiar to me&mdash;was
+ that the French girl? No, the lady I was struggling to identify was
+ certainly English. I'm sure you're asleep.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "A month elapsed before I had an opportunity of seeing the photograph
+ again. An idea had struck me which I meant to carry out. This was to trace
+ the photograph by means of the photographer. I did not like, however, to
+ mention the subject to Colonel Goring again, so I contrived to find the
+ album while he was out of the smoking-room. The number of the photograph
+ and the address of the photographer were all I wanted; but just as I had
+ got the photograph out of the album my host returned. I slipped the thing
+ quickly into my pocket, and he gave me no chance of replacing it. Thus it
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page214" name="page214"></a></span>
+ was owing to an accident that I carried the photograph away. My theft
+ rendered me no assistance. True, the photographer's name and address were
+ there; but when I went to the place mentioned it had disappeared to make
+ way for 'residential chambers.' I have a few other Cambridge friends here,
+ and I showed some of these the photograph. One, I am now aware, is under
+ the impression that I am to be married soon, but the others were rational.
+ Grierson, of the War Office, recognized the portrait at once. 'She is
+ playing small parts at the Criterion,' he said. Finchley, who is a
+ promising man at the bar, also recognized her. 'Her portraits were in all
+ the illustrated papers five years ago,' he told me, 'at the time when she
+ got twelve months.' They contradicted each other about her, however, and I
+ satisfied myself that she was neither an actress at the Criterion nor the
+ adventuress of 1883. It was, of course, conceivable that she was an
+ actress, but if so her face was not known in the fancy stationers'
+ windows. Are you listening ?
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "I saw that the mystery would remain unsolved until Jack's return home;
+ and when I had a letter from him a week ago, asking me to dine with him
+ to-night, I accepted eagerly. He was just home, he said, and I would meet
+ an <span class="pagenum"><a id="page215" name="page215"></a></span>
+ old Cambridge man. We were to dine at Jack's club, and I took the
+ photograph with me. I recognized Jack as soon as I entered the
+ waiting-room of the club. A very short, very fat, smooth-faced man was
+ sitting beside him, with his hands clasped behind his head. I believe I
+ gasped. 'Don't you remember Tom Rufus,' Jack asked, 'who used to play the
+ female part at the Cambridge A.D.C.? Why, you helped me to choose his wig
+ at Fox's. I have a photograph of him in costume somewhere at home. You
+ might recall him by his trick of sitting with his hands clasped behind his
+ head.' I shook Rufus's hand. I went in to dinner, and probably behaved
+ myself. Now that it is over I cannot help being thankful that I did not
+ ask Jack for the name of the lady before I saw Rufus. Good-night. I think
+ I've burned a hole in the pillow."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch25-t" id="image-ch25-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch25-t.png" style="width:400px;height:163px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. XXV." />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page216" name="page216"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0026" id="h2HCH0026">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch26-h" id="image-ch26-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch26-ha.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:400px;height:243px;padding:0;margin: 0em 1em 0em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XXVI. &quot;Arcadians at bay&quot;" /> <img
+ src="images/ch26-hb.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:170px;height:124px;padding:0;margin: 0em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XXVI. &quot;Arcadians at bay&quot;" />
+ </p>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER XXVI.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ ARCADIANS AT BAY.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ I have said that Jimmy spent much of his time in contributing to various
+ leading waste-paper baskets, and that of an evening he was usually to be
+ found prone on my hearth-rug. When he entered my room he was ever willing
+ to tell us what he thought of editors, but his meerschaum with the
+ cherry-wood stem gradually drove all passion from his breast, and instead
+ of upbraiding more successful men than himself, he then lazily scribbled
+ letters to them on my wall-paper. The wall to the right of the fireplace
+ was thick with these <span class="pagenum"><a id="page217" name="page217"></a>
+ </span> epistles, which seemed to give Jimmy relief, though William
+ John had to scrape and scrub at them next morning with india-rubber.
+ Jimmy's sarcasm&mdash;to which that wall-paper can probably still speak&mdash;generally
+ took this form:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <i>To G. Buckle, Esq., Columbia Road, Shoreditch</i>.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ SIR:&mdash;I am requested by Mr. James Moggridge, editor of the <i>Times</i>,
+ to return you the inclosed seven manuscripts, and to express his regret
+ that there is at present no vacancy in the sub-editorial department of the
+ <i>Times</i> such as Mr. Buckle kindly offers to fill.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Yours faithfully,
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ P. R. (for J. Moggridge, Ed. <i>Times</i>).
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <i>To Mr. James Knowles, Brick Lane, Spitalfields</i>.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ DEAR SIR:&mdash;I regret to have to return the inclosed paper, which is
+ not quite suitable for the <i>Nineteenth Century</i>. I find that articles
+ by unknown men, however good in themselves, attract little attention. I
+ inclose list of contributors for next month, including, as you will
+ observe, seven members of upper circles, and remain your obedient servant,
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ J. MOGGRIDGE, Ed. <i>Nineteenth Century</i>.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <i>To Mr. W Pollock, Mile-End Road, Stepney</i>.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ SIR:&mdash;I have on two previous occasions begged you to cease sending
+ daily articles to <span class="pagenum"><a id="page218" name="page218"></a>
+ </span> the <i>Saturday</i>. Should this continue we shall be
+ reluctantly compelled to take proceedings against you. Why don't you try
+ the <i>Sporting Times?</i> Yours faithfully,
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ J. MOGGRIDGE, Ed. <i>Saturday Review.</i>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <i>To Messrs. Sampson, Low &amp; Co., Peabody Buildings, Islington.</i>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ DEAR SIRS:&mdash;The manuscript which you forwarded for our consideration
+ has received careful attention; but we do not think it would prove a
+ success, and it is therefore returned to you herewith. We do not care to
+ publish third-rate books. We remain yours obediently,
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ J. MOGGRIDGE &amp; CO.<br /> (late Sampson, Low &amp; Co.).
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <i>To H. Quilter, Esq., P.O. Bethnal Green.</i>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ SIR:&mdash;I have to return your paper on Universal Art. It is not without
+ merit; but I consider art such an important subject that I mean to deal
+ with it exclusively myself. With thanks for kindly appreciation of my new
+ venture, I am yours faithfully,
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ J. MOGGRIDGE, Ed. <i>Universal Review.</i>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <i>To John Morley, Esq., Smith Street, Blackwall.</i>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ SIR:&mdash;Yes, I distinctly remember meeting you on the occasion to which
+ you refer, and it <span class="pagenum"><a id="page219" name="page219"></a>
+ </span> is naturally gratifying to me to hear that you enjoy my
+ writing so much. Unfortunately, however, I am unable to accept your
+ generous offer to do Lord Beaconsfield for the "English Men of Letters"
+ series, as the volume has been already arranged for. Yours sincerely,
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ J. MOGGRIDGE,<br /> Ed. "English Men of Letters" series.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <i>To F. C. Burnand, Esq., Peebles, N.B.</i>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ SIR:&mdash;The jokes which you forwarded to <i>Punch</i> on Monday last
+ are so good that we used them three years ago. Yours faithfully,
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ J. MOGGRIDGE, Ed. <i>Punch</i>.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <i>To Mr. D'Oyley Carte, Cross Stone Buildings, Westminster Bridge Road.</i>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ DEAR SIR:&mdash;The comic opera by your friends Messrs. Gilbert and
+ Sullivan, which you have submitted to me, as sole lessee and manager of
+ the Savoy Theatre, is now returned to you unread. The little piece, judged
+ from its title-page, is bright and pleasing, but I have arranged with two
+ other gentlemen to write my operas for the next twenty-one years.
+ Faithfully yours,
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ J. MOGGRIDGE,<br /> Sole Lessee and Manager Savoy Theatre.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page220" name="page220"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch26-1" id="image-ch26-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch26-1a.png"
+ style="float:right;clear:right;width:148px;height:573px;padding:0;margin: 1.5em 0em 0em 1em;"
+ alt="Pipes and tobacco-jar" /> <img src="images/ch26-1b.png"
+ style="float:right;clear:right;width:400px;height: 41px;padding:0;margin: 0em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="Pipes and tobacco-jar" />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <i>To James Ruskin, Esq., Railway Station Hotel, Willisden.</i>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ SIR: &mdash; I warn you that I will not accept any more copies of your
+ books. I do not know the individual named Tennyson to whom you refer; but
+ if he is the scribbler who is perpetually sending me copies of his verses,
+ please tell him that I read no poetry except my own. Why can't you leave
+ me alone?
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ J. MOGGRIDGE, Poet Laureate.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ These letters of Jimmy's remind me of our famous competition, which took
+ place on the night of the Jubilee celebrations. When all the rest of
+ London (including William John) was in the streets, the Arcadians met as
+ usual, and Scrymgeour, at my request, put on the shutters to keep out the
+ din. It so happened that Jimmy and Gilray were that night in wicked moods,
+ for Jimmy, who was so anxious to be a journalist, had just had his <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page221" name="page221"></a></span>
+ seventeenth article returned from the <i>St. John's Gazette</i>, and
+ Gilray had been "slated" for his acting of a new part, in all the leading
+ papers. They were now disgracing the tobacco they smoked by quarrelling
+ about whether critics or editors were the more disreputable class, when in
+ walked Pettigrew, who had not visited us for months. Pettigrew is as
+ successful a journalist as Jimmy is unfortunate, and the pallor of his
+ face showed how many Jubilee articles he had written during the past two
+ months. Pettigrew offered each of us a Splendidad (his wife's new brand),
+ which we dropped into the fireplace. Then he filled my little Remus with
+ Arcadia, and sinking weariedly into a chair, said:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "My dear Jimmy, the curse of journalism is not that editors won't accept
+ our articles, but that they want too many from us."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ This seemed such monstrous nonsense to Jimmy that he turned his back on
+ Pettigrew, and Gilray broke in with a diatribe against critics.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "Critics," said Pettigrew, "are to be pitied rather than reviled."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Then Gilray and Jimmy had a common foe. Whether it was Pettigrew's
+ appearance among us or the fireworks outside that made us unusually
+ talkative that night I cannot say, but we <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page222" name="page222"></a></span> became quite brilliant,
+ and when Jimmy began to give us his dream about killing an editor, Gilray
+ said that he had a dream about criticising critics; and Pettigrew, not to
+ be outdone, said that he had a dream of what would become of him if he had
+ to write any more Jubilee articles. Then it was that Marriot suggested a
+ competition. "Let each of the grumblers," he said, "describe his dream,
+ and the man whose dream seems the most exhilarating will get from the
+ judges a Jubilee pound-tin of the Arcadia." The grumblers agreed, but each
+ wanted the others to dream first. At last Jimmy began as follows:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch26-t" id="image-ch26-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch26-t.png" style="width:400px;height:400px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. XXVI. &quot;Jimmy began as follows&quot;" />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page223" name="page223"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0027" id="h2HCH0027">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch27-h" id="image-ch27-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch27-h.png" style="width:400px;height:282px;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XXVII. &quot;Jimmy's dream&quot;" />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER XXVII.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ JIMMY'S DREAM.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ I see before me (said Jimmy, savagely) a court, where I, James Moggridge,
+ am arraigned on a charge of assaulting the editor of the <i>St. John's
+ Gazette</i> so as to cause death. Little interest is manifested in the
+ case. On being arrested I had pleaded guilty, and up to to-day it had been
+ anticipated that the matter would be settled out of court. No apology,
+ however, being forthcoming, the law has to take its course. The defence is
+ that the assault was <span class="pagenum"><a id="page224" name="page224"></a>
+ </span> fair comment on a matter of public interest, and was warranted
+ in substance and in fact. On making his appearance in the dock the
+ prisoner is received with slight cheering.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Mr. John Jones is the first witness called for the prosecution. He says: I
+ am assistant editor of the <i>St. John's Gazette</i>. It is an evening
+ newspaper of pronounced Radical views. I never saw the prisoner until
+ to-day, but I have frequently communicated with him. It was part of my
+ work to send him back his articles. This often kept me late.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ In cross-examination the witness denies that he has ever sent the prisoner
+ other people's articles by mistake. Pressed, he says, he may have done so
+ once. The defendant generally inclosed letters with his articles, in which
+ he called attention to their special features. Sometimes these letters
+ were of a threatening nature, but there was nothing unusual in that.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Cross-examined: The letters were not what he would call alarming. He had
+ not thought of taking any special precautions himself. Of course, in his
+ position, he had to take his chance. So far as he could remember, it was
+ not for his own sake that the prisoner wanted his articles published, but
+ in the interests of the public. He, the prisoner, was vexed, he said, to
+ see the <span class="pagenum"><a id="page225" name="page225"></a></span>
+ paper full of such inferior matter. Witness had frequently seen letters to
+ the editor from other disinterested contributors couched in similar
+ language. If he was not mistaken, he saw a number of these gentlemen in
+ court. (Applause from the persons referred to.)
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Mr. Snodgrass says: I am a poet. I do not compose during the day. The
+ strain would be too great. Every evening I go out into the streets and buy
+ the latest editions of the evening journals. If there is anything in them
+ worthy commemoration in verse, I compose. There is generally something. I
+ cannot say to which paper I send most of my poems, as I send to all. One
+ of the weaknesses of the <i>St. John's Gazette</i> is its poetry. It is
+ not worthy of the name. It is doggerel. I have sought to improve it, but
+ the editor rejected my contributions. I continued to send them, hoping
+ that they would educate his taste. One night I had sent him a very long
+ poem which did not appear in the paper next day. I was very indignant, and
+ went straight to the office. That was on Jubilee Day. I was told that the
+ editor had left word that he had just gone into the country for two days.
+ (Hisses.) I forced my way up the stairs, however, and when I reached the
+ top I did not know which way to go. There <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page226" name="page226"></a></span> <a name="image-ch27-1"
+ id="image-ch27-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch27-1.png"
+ style="width:100px;height:535px;float:left;clear:left;padding:0;margin: .5em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="Pipes" /> were a number of doors with "No admittance" printed on them.
+ (More hissing.) I heard voices in altercation in a room near me. I thought
+ that was likely to be the editor's. I opened the door and went in. The
+ prisoner was in the room. He had the editor on the floor and was jumping
+ on him. I said, "Is that the editor?" He said, "Yes." I said, "Have you
+ killed him?" He said, "Yes," again. I said, "Oh!" and went away. That is
+ all I remember of the affair.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Cross-examined: It did not occur to me to interfere. I thought very little
+ of the affair at the time. I think I mentioned it to my wife in the
+ evening; but I will not swear to that. I am not the Herr Bablerr who
+ compelled his daughter to marry a man she did not love, so that I might
+ write an ode in celebration of the nuptials. I have no daughter. I am a
+ poet.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The foreman printer deposed to having had his attention called to <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page227" name="page227"></a></span> the
+ murder of the editor about three o'clock. He was very busy at the time.
+ About an hour afterward he saw the body and put a placard over it. He
+ spoke of the matter to the assistant editor, who suggested that they had
+ better call in the police. That was done.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ A clerk in the counting-house says: I distinctly remember the afternoon of
+ the murder. I can recall it without difficulty, as it was on the following
+ evening that I went to the theatre&mdash;a rare occurrence with me. I was
+ running up the stairs when I met a man coming down. I recognized the
+ prisoner as that man. He said, "I have killed your editor." I replied,
+ "Then you ought to be ashamed of yourself." We had no further
+ conversation.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ J. O'Leary is next called. He says: I am an Irishman by birth. I had to
+ fly my country when an iniquitous Coercion Act was put in force. At
+ present I am a journalist, and I write Fenian letters for the <i>St. Johns
+ Gazette</i>. I remember the afternoon of the murder. It was the sub-editor
+ who told me of it. He asked me if I would write a "par" on the subject for
+ the fourth edition. I did so; but as I was in a hurry to catch a train it
+ was only a few lines. We did him fuller justice next day.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Cross-examined: Witness denies that he felt <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page228" name="page228"></a></span> any elation on hearing
+ that a new topic had been supplied for writing on. He was sorry rather.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ A policeman gives evidence that about half-past four on Jubilee Day he saw
+ a small crowd gather round the entrance to the offices of the <i>St.
+ John's Gazette</i>. He thought it his duty to inquire into the matter. He
+ went inside and asked an office-boy what was up. The boy said he thought
+ the editor had been murdered, but advised him to inquire upstairs. He did
+ so, and the boy's assertion was confirmed. He came down again and told the
+ crowd that it was the editor who had been killed. The crowd then
+ dispersed.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch27-2" id="image-ch27-2">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch27-2a.png"
+ style="float:right;clear:right;width:107px;height:101px;margin: .5em 0em 0em 1em;padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;Council for defence calls attention to the prisoner's high and unblemished character&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch27-2b.png"
+ style="float:right;clear:right;width:200px;height:72px;margin: 0em 0em 0em 1em;padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;Council for defence calls attention to the prisoner's high and unblemished character&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch27-2c.png"
+ style="float:right;clear:right;width:153px;height:127px;margin: 0em 0em .5em 1em;padding:0;"
+ alt="&quot;Council for defence calls attention to the prisoner's high and unblemished character&quot;" />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ A detective from Scotland Yard explains the method of the prisoner's
+ capture. Moggridge wrote to the superintendent saying that he would be
+ passing Scotland Yard on the following Wednesday on business. Three
+ detectives, including witness, were told off to arrest him, and they
+ succeeded in doing so. (Loud and prolonged applause.)
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The judge interposes here. He fails, he says, to see that this evidence is
+ relevant. So far as he can see, the question is not whether a murder has
+ been committed, but whether, under the circumstances, it is a criminal
+ offence. The <span class="pagenum"><a id="page229" name="page229"></a>
+ </span> prisoner should never have been tried here at all. It was a
+ case for the petty sessions. If the counsel cannot give some weighty
+ reason for proceeding with further evidence, he will now put it to the
+ jury.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ After a few remarks from the counsel for the prosecution and the counsel
+ for the defence, who calls attention to the prisoner's high and
+ unblemished character, the judge sums up. It is for the jury, he says, to
+ decide whether the prisoner has committed a criminal offence. That was the
+ point; and in deciding it the jury should bear in mind the desirability of
+ suppressing merely vexatious cases. People should not go to law over
+ trifles. Still, the jury must remember that, without exception, all human
+ life was sacred. After some further remarks from the judge, the jury (who
+ deliberate for rather more than three-quarters <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page230" name="page230"></a></span> of an hour) return a
+ verdict of guilty. The prisoner is sentenced to a fine of five florins, or
+ three days' imprisonment.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch27-t" id="image-ch27-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch27-t.png" style="width:400px;height:630px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. XXVII." />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page231" name="page231"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0028" id="h2HCH0028">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch28-h" id="image-ch28-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch28-h.png" style="width:400px;height:236px;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XXVIII." />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER XXVIII.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ GILRAY'S DREAM.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ Conceive me (said Gilray, with glowing face) invited to write a criticism
+ of the Critics' Dramatic Society for the <i>Standard</i>. I select the <i>Standard</i>,
+ because that paper has treated me most cruelly. However, I loathe them
+ all. My dream is the following criticism:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ What is the Critics' Dramatic Society? We found out on Wednesday
+ afternoon, and, as we went to Drury Lane in the interests of the public,
+ it is only fair that the public should know too. Besides, in that case we
+ can all bear it together. Be it known, then, that this Dramatic Society is
+ composed of "critics" who gave "The School for Scandal" at a matinée on
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page232" name="page232"></a></span>
+ Wednesday just to show how the piece should be played. Mr. Augustus Harris
+ had "kindly put the theatre at their disposal," for which he will have to
+ answer when he joins Sheridan in the Elysian Fields. As the performance
+ was by far the worst ever perpetrated, it would be a shame to deprive the
+ twentieth century of the programme. Some of the players, as will be seen,
+ are too well known to escape obloquy. The others may yet be able to sink
+ into oblivion.
+ </p>
+ <table summary="cast of characters">
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ Sir Peter Teazle
+ </td>
+ <td align="right">
+ <span class="sc"> Mr. John Ruskin.</span>
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ Joseph Surface
+ </td>
+ <td align="right">
+ <span class="sc"> Mr. W. E. Henley.</span>
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ Charles Surface
+ </td>
+ <td align="right">
+ <span class="sc"> Mr. Harry Labouchere.</span>
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ Crabtree
+ </td>
+ <td align="right">
+ <span class="sc"> Mr. W. Archer.</span>
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ Sir Benjamin Backbite
+ </td>
+ <td align="right">
+ <span class="sc"> Mr. Clement Scott.</span>
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ Moses
+ </td>
+ <td align="right">
+ <span class="sc"> Mr. Walter Sichel.</span>
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ Old Rowley
+ </td>
+ <td align="right">
+ <span class="sc"> Mr. Joseph Knight.</span>
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ Sir Oliver
+ </td>
+ <td align="right">
+ <span class="sc"> Mr. W. H. Pollock.</span>
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ Trip
+ </td>
+ <td align="right">
+ <span class="sc"> Mr. G. A. Sala.</span>
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ Snake
+ </td>
+ <td align="right">
+ <span class="sc"> Mr. Moy Thomas.</span>
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ Sir Harry Bumper (with song)
+ </td>
+ <td align="right">
+ <span class="sc"> Mr. George Moore.</span>
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ Servants, Guests, etc.
+ </td>
+ <td align="right">
+ <span class="sc"> Messrs. Saville Clarke, Joseph Hatton, Percy
+ Fitzgerald</span>, etc.
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td colspan="2" align="center">
+ Assisted by
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ Lady Teazle
+ </td>
+ <td align="right">
+ <span class="sc"> Miss Rosie Le Dene.</span>
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ Mrs. Candour
+ </td>
+ <td align="right">
+ <span class="sc"> Miss Jenny Montalban.</span>
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ Lady Sneerwell
+ </td>
+ <td align="right">
+ <span class="sc"> Miss Rosalind Labelle</span><br /> (The Hon. Mrs.
+ Major <span class="sc">Turnley</span>).
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ Maria
+ </td>
+ <td align="right">
+ <span class="sc"> Miss Jones.</span>
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ </table>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch28-1" id="image-ch28-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch28-1a.png"
+ style="float:right;clear:both;width:267px;height:287px;padding:0;margin: .5em 0em 0em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;These indefatigable amateurs began to dance a minuet&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch28-1b.png"
+ style="float:right;clear:right;width:107px;height:143px;padding:0;margin: 0em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;These indefatigable amateurs began to dance a minuet&quot;" />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It was a sin of omission on the part of the Critics' Dramatic Society not
+ to state that the <span class="pagenum"><a id="page233" name="page233"></a>
+ </span> piece played was "a new and original comedy" in many acts. Had
+ they had the courage to do this, and to change the title, no one would
+ even have known. On the other hand, it was a sin of commission to allow
+ that Professor Henry Morley was responsible for the stage management; Mr.
+ Morley being a man of letters whom some worthy people respect. But perhaps
+ sins of omission and commission counterbalance. The audience was put in a
+ bad humor before the performance began, owing to the curtain's rising
+ fifteen minutes late. However, once the curtain did rise, it was an
+ unconscionable time in falling. What is known as the "business" of the
+ first act, including the caterwauling of Sir Benjamin Backbite and
+ Crabtree in their revolutions round Joseph, was gone through with a
+ deliberation that was cruelty to the audience, and just when the act
+ seemed over at last these indefatigable amateurs began to dance a minuet.
+ A sigh ran round the theatre at this&mdash;a sigh as full of suffering as
+ when a minister, having finished his thirdly and lastly, starts off again,
+ with, "I cannot allow this opportunity to pass." Possibly the Critics'
+ Dramatic Society are congratulating themselves on the undeniable fact that
+ the sighs and hisses grew beautifully less as the performance proceeded.
+ But that was because <span class="pagenum"><a id="page234" name="page234"></a>
+ </span> the audience diminished too. One man cannot be expected to
+ sigh like twenty; though, indeed, some of the audience of Wednesday sighed
+ like at least half a dozen.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ If it be true that all men&mdash;even critics&mdash;have their redeeming
+ points and failings, then was there no Charles and no Joseph Surface at
+ this unique matinée. For the ungainly gentleman who essayed the part of
+ Charles made, or rather meant to make, him spotless; and Mr. Henley's
+ Joseph was twin-brother to Mr. Irving's Mephistopheles. Perhaps the idea
+ of Mr. Labouchere and his friend, Mr. Henley, was that they would make one
+ young man between them. They found it hard work. Mr. Labouchere has yet to
+ learn that buffoonery is not exactly wit, and that Charles Surfaces who
+ dig their uncle Olivers in the ribs, and then turn to the audience for
+ applause, are among the things that the nineteenth century can do without.
+ According to the programme, Mr. George Moore&mdash;the Sir Harry Bumper&mdash;was
+ to sing the song, "Here's to the Maiden of Bashful Fifteen." Mr. Moore did
+ not sing it, but Mr. Labouchere did. The explanation of this, we
+ understand, was not that Sir Harry's heart failed him at the eleventh
+ hour, but that Mr. Labouchere threatened to fling up his part <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page235" name="page235"></a></span> unless
+ the song was given to him. However, Mr. Moore heard Mr. Labouchere singing
+ the song, and that was revenge enough for any man. To Mr. Henley the part
+ of Joseph evidently presented no serious difficulties. In his opinion,
+ Joseph is a <span class="pagenum"><a id="page236" name="page236"></a>
+ </span> whining hypocrite who rolls his eyes when he wishes to look
+ natural. Obviously he is a slavish admirer of Mr. Irving. If Joseph had
+ taken his snuff as this one does, Lady Sneerwell would have sent him to
+ the kitchen. If he had made love to Lady Teazle as this one does, she
+ would have suspected him of weak intellect. Sheridan's Joseph was a man of
+ culture: Mr. Henley's is a buffoon. It is not, perhaps, so much this
+ gentleman's fault as his misfortune that his acting is without either art
+ or craft; but then he was not compelled to play Joseph Surface. Indeed, we
+ may go further, and say that if he is a man with friends he must have been
+ dissuaded from it. The Sir Peter Teazle of Mr. Ruskin reminded us of other
+ Sir Peter Teazles&mdash;probably because Sir Peter is played nowadays with
+ his courtliness omitted.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch28-2" id="image-ch28-2">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch28-2.png"
+ style="float:right;clear:both;width:200px;height:332px;padding:0;margin: .5em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="A friendly favor" />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Mr. William Archer was the Crabtree, or rather Mr. Archer and the prompter
+ between them. Until we caught sight of the prompter we had credited Mr.
+ Archer with being a ventriloquist given to casting his voice to the wings.
+ Mr. Clement Scott&mdash;their Benjamin Backbite&mdash;was a ventriloquist
+ too, but not in such a large way as Mr. Archer. His voice, so far as we
+ could make out from an occasional rumble, <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page237" name="page237"></a></span> was in his boots, where
+ his courage kept it company. There was no more ambitious actor in the cast
+ than Mr. Pollock. Mr. Pollock was Sir Oliver, and he gave a highly
+ original reading of that old gentleman. What Mr. Pollock's private opinion
+ of the character of Sir Oliver may be we cannot say; it would be worth an
+ interviewer's while to find out. But if he thinks Sir Oliver was a
+ windmill, we can inform him at once that he is mistaken. Of Mr. Sichel's
+ Moses all that occurs to us to say is that when he let his left arm hang
+ down and raised the other aloft, he looked very like a tea-pot. Mr. Joseph
+ Knight was Old Rowley. In that character all we saw of him was his back;
+ and we <span class="pagenum"><a id="page238" name="page238"></a></span>
+ are bound to admit that it was unexceptional. Sheridan calls one of his
+ servants Snake, and the other Trip. Mr. Moy Thomas tried to look as like a
+ snake as he could, and with some success. The Trip of Mr. Sala, however,
+ was a little heavy, and when he came between the audience and the other
+ actors there was a temporary eclipse. As for the minor parts, the
+ gentlemen who personated them gave a capital rendering of supers suffering
+ from stage-fever. Wednesday is memorable in the history of the stage, but
+ we would forget it if we could.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch28-t" id="image-ch28-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch28-t.png" style="width:400px;height:192px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. XXVIII." />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page239" name="page239"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0029" id="h2HCH0029">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch29-h" id="image-ch29-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch29-h.png" style="width:400px;height:400px;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XXIX. &quot;Pettigrew's dream&quot;" />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER XXIX.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ PETTIGREW'S DREAM.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ My dream (said Pettigrew) contrasts sadly with those of my young friends.
+ They dream of revenge, but my dream is tragic. I see my editor writing my
+ obituary notice. This is how it reads:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch29-1" id="image-ch29-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch29-1.png"
+ style="float:right;clear:right;width:100px;height:600px;padding:0;margin: .5em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;He went round the morning-room&quot;" />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Mr. Pettigrew, M.A., whose sad death is recorded in another column, was in
+ his forty-second <span class="pagenum"><a id="page240" name="page240"></a>
+ </span> year (not his forty-fourth, as stated in the evening papers),
+ and had done a good deal of Jubilee work before he accepted the commission
+ that led to his death. It is an open secret that he wrote seventy of the
+ Jubilee sketches which have appeared in this paper. The pamphlet now
+ selling in the streets for a penny, entitled "Jubilees of the Past," was
+ his. He wrote the introductory chapter to "Fifty Years of Progress," and
+ his "Jubilee Statesmen" is now in a second edition. The idea of a
+ collection of Jubilee odes was not his, but the publisher's. At the same
+ time, his friends and relatives attach no blame to them. Mr. Pettigrew
+ shivered when the order was given to him, but he accepted it, and the
+ general impression among those who knew him was that a man who had
+ survived "Jubilee Statesmen" could do anything. As it turns out, we had
+ overestimated Mr. Pettigrew's powers of endurance.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As "The Jubilee Odes" will doubtless yet be collected by another hand,
+ little need be said here of the work. Mr. Pettigrew was to make his
+ collection as complete as the limited space at his disposal (two volumes)
+ would allow; the only original writing in the book being a sketch of the
+ various schemes suggested for the celebration of the Jubilee. It was this
+ sketch that <span class="pagenum"><a id="page241" name="page241"></a>
+ </span> killed him. On the morning of the 27th, when he intended
+ beginning it, he rose at an unusually early hour, and was seen from the
+ windows of the house pacing the garden in an apparently agitated state of
+ mind. He ate no breakfast. One of his daughters states that she noticed a
+ wild look in his eyes during the morning meal; but, as she did not remark
+ on it at the time, much stress need not be laid on this. The others say
+ that he was unusually quiet and silent. All, however, noticed one thing.
+ Generally, when he had literary work to do, he was anxious to begin upon
+ his labors, and spent little time at the breakfast-table. On this occasion
+ he sat on. Even after the breakfast things were removed he seemed
+ reluctant to adjourn to the study. His wife asked him several times if he
+ meant to begin "The Jubilee Odes" that day, and he always replied in the
+ affirmative. But he talked nervously of other things; and, to her surprise&mdash;though
+ she thought comparatively little of it <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page242" name="page242"></a></span> at the time&mdash;drew her
+ on to a discussion on summer bonnets. As a rule, this was a subject which
+ he shunned. At last he rose, and, going slowly to the window, looked out
+ for a quarter of an hour. His wife asked him again about "The Jubilee
+ Odes," and he replied that he meant to begin directly. Then he went round
+ the morning-room, looking at the pictures on the walls as if for the first
+ time. After that he leaned for a little while against the mantelpiece, and
+ then, as if an idea had struck him, began to wind up the clock. He went
+ through the house winding up the clocks, though this duty was usually left
+ to a servant; and when that was over he came back to the breakfast-room
+ and talked about Waterbury watches. His wife had to go to the kitchen, and
+ he followed her. On their way back they passed the nursery, and he said he
+ thought he would go in and talk to the nurse. This was very unlike him. At
+ last his wife said that it would soon be luncheon-time, and then he went
+ to the study. Some ten minutes afterward he wandered into the dining-room,
+ where she was arranging some flowers. He seemed taken aback at seeing her,
+ but said, after a moment's thought, that the study door was locked and he
+ could not find the key. This astonished her, as she had dusted <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page243" name="page243"></a></span> the
+ room herself that morning. She went to see, and found the study door
+ standing open. When she returned to the dining-room he had disappeared.
+ They searched for him everywhere, and eventually discovered him in the
+ drawing-room, turning over a photograph album. He then went back to the
+ study. His wife accompanied <a name="image-ch29-2" id="image-ch29-2">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch29-2.png"
+ style="float:right;clear:right;width:150px;height:340px;padding:0;margin: .5em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;His wife ... filled his pipe for him&quot;" /> him, and, as was
+ her custom, filled his pipe for him. He smoked a mixture to which he was
+ passionately attached. He lighted his pipe several times, but it always
+ went out. His wife put a new nib into his pen, placed some writing
+ material on the table, and then retired, shutting the door behind her.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ About half an hour afterward Mrs. Pettigrew sent one of the children to
+ the study on a trifling errand. As he did not return she followed him. She
+ found him sitting on his father's knee, where she did not remember ever
+ having seen him before. Mr. Pettigrew was holding his watch to the boy's
+ ears. The study table was littered with several hundreds of Jubilee odes.
+ Other odes had slipped to the floor. Mrs. Pettigrew asked how he was
+ getting on, and her unhappy <span class="pagenum"><a id="page244"
+ name="page244"></a></span> husband replied that he was just going
+ to begin. His hands were trembling, and he had given up trying to smoke.
+ He sought to detain her by talking about the boy's curls; but she went
+ away, taking the child with her. As she closed the door he groaned
+ heavily, and she reopened it to ask if he felt unwell. He answered in the
+ negative, and she left him. The last <a name="image-ch29-3"
+ id="image-ch29-3">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch29-3.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:150px;height:391px;padding:0;margin: .5em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="&quot;Mrs. Pettigrew sent one of the children to the study&quot;" />
+ person to see Mr. Pettigrew alive was Eliza Day, the housemaid. She took a
+ letter to him between twelve and one o'clock. Usually he disliked being
+ disturbed at his writing; but this time, in answer to her knock, he cried
+ eagerly, "Come in!" When she entered he insisted on her taking a chair,
+ and asked her how all her people were, and if there was anything he could
+ do for them. Several times she rose to leave, but he would not allow her
+ to do so. Eliza mentioned this in the kitchen when she returned to it. Her
+ master was naturally a reserved man who seldom spoke to his servants,
+ which rendered his behavior on this occasion the more remarkable.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As announced in the evening papers yesterday, the servant sent to the
+ study at half-past one to see why Mr. Pettigrew was not coming to <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page245" name="page245"></a></span> lunch,
+ found him lifeless on the floor. The knife clutched in his hand showed
+ that he had done the fatal deed himself; and Dr. Southwick, of Hyde Park,
+ who was on the spot within ten minutes of the painful discovery, is of
+ opinion that life had been extinct for about half an hour. The body was
+ lying among Jubilee odes. On the table were a dozen or more sheets of
+ "copy," which, though only spoiled pages, showed that the deceased had not
+ succumbed without a struggle. On one he had begun, "Fifty years have come
+ and gone since a fair English maiden ascended the throne of England."
+ Another stopped short at, "To every loyal Englishman the Jubil&mdash;&mdash;"
+ A third sheet commenced with, "Though there have been a number of royal
+ Jubilees in the history of the world, probably none has awakened the same
+ interest as &mdash;&mdash;" and a fourth began, "1887 will be known to all
+ future ages as the year of Jub&mdash;&mdash;" One sheet bore the sentence,
+ "Heaven help me!" and it is believed that these were the last words the
+ deceased ever penned.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Mr. Pettigrew was a most estimable man in private life, and will be
+ greatly missed in the circles to which he had endeared himself. He leaves
+ a widow and a small family. It may be <span class="pagenum"><a id="page246"
+ name="page246"></a></span> worth adding that when discovered dead,
+ there was a smile upon his face, as if he had at last found peace. He must
+ have suffered great agony that forenoon, and his death is best looked upon
+ as a happy release.
+ </p>
+ <hr />
+ <p>
+ Marriot, Scrymgeour and I awarded the tin of Arcadia to Pettigrew, because
+ he alone of the competitors seemed to believe that his dream might be
+ realized.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch29-t" id="image-ch29-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch29-t.png" style="width:400px;height:397px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. XXIX. &quot;I awarded the tin of Arcadia to Pettigrew&quot;" />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page247" name="page247"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0030" id="h2HCH0030">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER XXX.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ THE MURDER IN THE INN.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch30-h" id="image-ch30-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch30-ha.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:both;width:400px;height:111px;padding:0;margin: 0em 1em 0em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XXX. &quot;Sometimes I think it is all a dream&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch30-hb.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:122px;height:512px;padding:0;margin: 0em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XXX. &quot;Sometimes I think it is all a dream&quot;" />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Sometimes I think it is all a dream, and that I did not really murder the
+ waits. Perhaps they are living still. Yet the scene is very vivid before
+ me, though the affair took place&mdash;if it ever did take place&mdash;so
+ long ago that I cannot be expected to remember the details. The time when
+ I must give up smoking was drawing near, so that I may have been unusually
+ irritable, and determined, whatever the cost, to smoke my last pound-tin
+ of the Arcadia in peace. I think my brier was in my mouth when I did it,
+ but after the lapse of months I cannot say whether there were three of
+ them or <span class="pagenum"><a id="page248" name="page248"></a></span>
+ only two. So far as I can remember, I took the man with the beard first.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The incident would have made more impression on me had there been any talk
+ about it. So far as I could discover, it never got into the papers. The
+ porters did not seem to think it any affair of theirs, though one of them
+ must have guessed why I invited the waits upstairs. He saw me open the
+ door to them; he was aware that this was their third visit in a week; and
+ only the night before he had heard me shout a warning to them from my inn
+ window. But of course the porters must allow themselves a certain
+ discretion in the performance of their duties. Then there was the pleasant
+ gentleman of the next door but two, who ran against me just as I was
+ toppling the second body over the railing. We were not acquainted, but I
+ knew him as the man who had flung a water-jug at the waits the night
+ before. He stopped short when he saw the body (it had rolled out of the
+ sofa-rug), and looked at me suspiciously. "He is one of the waits," I
+ said. "I beg your pardon," he replied, "I did not understand." When he had
+ passed a few yards he turned round. "Better cover him up," he said; "our
+ people will talk." Then he strolled away, an air from "The Grand Duchess"
+ lightly trolling <span class="pagenum"><a id="page249" name="page249"></a>
+ </span> from his lips. We still meet occasionally, and nod if no one
+ is looking.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I am going too fast, however. What I meant to say was that the murder was
+ premeditated. In the case of a reprehensible murder I know this would be
+ considered an aggravation of the offence. Of course, it is an open
+ question whether all the murders are not reprehensible; but let that pass.
+ To my own mind I should have been indeed deserving of punishment had I
+ rushed out and slain the waits in a moment of fury. If one were to give
+ way to his passion every time he is interrupted in his work or his sleep
+ by bawlers our thoroughfares would soon be choked with the dead. No one
+ values human life or understands its sacredness more than I do. I merely
+ say that there may be times when a man, having stood a great deal and
+ thought it over calmly, is justified in taking the law into his own hands&mdash;always
+ supposing he can do it decently, quietly, and without scandal. The
+ epidemic of waits broke out early in December, and every other night or so
+ these torments came in the still hours and burst into song beneath my
+ windows. They made me nervous. I was more wretched on the nights they did
+ not come than on the nights they came; for I had begun to listen for them,
+ and was never sure <span class="pagenum"><a id="page250" name="page250"></a>
+ </span> they had gone into another locality before four o'clock in the
+ morning. As for their songs, they were more like music-hall ditties than
+ Christmas carols. So one morning&mdash;it was, I think, the 23d of
+ December&mdash;I warned them fairly, fully, and with particulars, of what
+ would happen if they disturbed me again. Having given them this warning,
+ can it be said that I was to blame&mdash;at least, to any considerable
+ extent?
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Christmas eve had worn into Christmas morning before the waits arrived on
+ that fateful occasion. I opened the window&mdash;if my memory does not
+ deceive me&mdash;at once, and looked down at them. I could not swear to
+ their being the persons whom I had warned the night before. Perhaps I
+ should have made sure of this. But in any case these were practised waits.
+ Their whine rushed in at my open window with a vigor that proved them no
+ tyros. Besides, the night was a cold one, and I could not linger at an
+ open casement. I nodded pleasantly to the waits and pointed to my door.
+ Then I ran downstairs and let them in. They came up to my chambers with
+ me. As I have said, the lapse of time prevents my remembering how many of
+ them there were; three, I fancy. At all events, I took them into my
+ bedroom and <span class="pagenum"><a id="page251" name="page251"></a>
+ </span> strangled them one by one. They went off quite peaceably; the
+ only difficulty was in the disposal of the bodies. I thought of laying
+ them on the curb-stone in different passages; but I was afraid the police
+ might not see that they were waits, in which case I might be put to
+ inconvenience. So I took a spade and dug two (or three) large holes in the
+ quadrangle of the inn. Then I carried the bodies to the place in my rug,
+ one at a time, shoved them in, and covered them up. A close observer might
+ have noticed in that part of the quadrangle, for some time after, a small
+ mound, such as might be made by an elbow under the bed-clothes. Nobody,
+ however, seems to have descried it, and yet I see it often even now in my
+ dreams.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch30-t" id="image-ch30-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch30-t.png" style="width:400px;height:403px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. XXX." />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page252" name="page252"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0031" id="h2HCH0031">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER XXXI.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ THE PERILS OF NOT SMOKING.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch31-h" id="image-ch31-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch31-ha.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:both;width:173px;height:172px;padding:0;margin: 0em 1em 0em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XXXI. &quot;They thought I had weakly yielded&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch31-hb.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:206px;height: 81px;padding:0;margin: 0em 1em 0em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XXXI. &quot;They thought I had weakly yielded&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch31-hc.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:239px;height: 39px;padding:0;margin: 0em 1em 0em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XXXI. &quot;They thought I had weakly yielded&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch31-hd.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:300px;height: 84px;padding:0;margin: 0em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XXXI. &quot;They thought I had weakly yielded&quot;" />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ When the Arcadians heard that I had signed an agreement to give up smoking
+ they were first incredulous, then sarcastic, then angry. Instead of
+ coming, as usual, to my room, they went one night in a body to
+ Pettigrew's, and there, as I afterward discovered, a scheme for "saving
+ me" was drawn up. So little did they understand the firmness of my
+ character, that they thought I had weakly yielded to the threats of the
+ lady referred to in my first chapter, when, of course, I had only yielded
+ to her arguments, and they agreed to make an appeal on my behalf to her.
+ Pettigrew, as a married man himself, was appointed intercessor, and I
+ understand that the others not only accompanied <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page253" name="page253"></a></span> him to her door, but
+ waited in an alley until he came out. I never knew whether the reasoning
+ brought to bear on the lady was of Pettigrew's devising, or suggested by
+ Jimmy and the others, but it was certainly unselfish of Pettigrew to lie
+ so freely on my account. At the time, however, the plot enraged me, for
+ the lady conceived the absurd idea that I had sent Pettigrew to her.
+ Undoubtedly it was a bold stroke. Pettigrew's scheme was to play upon his
+ hostess's attachment for me by hinting to her that if I gave up smoking I
+ would probably die. Finding her attentive rather than talkative, he soon
+ dared to assure her that he himself loathed tobacco and only took it for
+ his health.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "By the doctor's orders, mark you," he said, impressively; "Dr. Southwick,
+ of Hyde Park."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She expressed polite surprise at this, and then Pettigrew, believing he
+ had made an impression, told his story as concocted.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "My own case," he said, "is one much in point. I suffered lately from sore
+ throat, accompanied by depression of spirits and loss of appetite. The
+ ailment was so unusual with me that I thought it prudent to put myself in
+ Dr. Southwick's hands. As far as possible I shall give you his exact
+ words:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'When did you give up smoking?' he asked, abruptly, after examining my
+ throat.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page254" name="page254"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch31-1" id="image-ch31-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch31-1.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:100px;height:475px;padding:0;margin: .5em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="&quot;They went one night in a body to Pettigrew's&quot;" />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'Three months ago,' I replied, taken by surprise; 'but how did you know I
+ had given it up?'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'Never mind how I know,' he said, severely; 'I told you that, however
+ much you might desire to do so, you were not to take to not smoking. This
+ is how you carry out my directions.'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'Well,' I answered sulkily, 'I have been feeling so healthy for the last
+ two years that I thought I could indulge myself a little. You are aware
+ how I abominate tobacco.'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'Quite so,' he said, 'and now you see the result of this miserable
+ self-indulgence. Two years ago I prescribed tobacco for you, to be taken
+ three times a day, and you yourself admit that it made a new man of you.
+ Instead of feeling thankful you complain of the brief unpleasantness <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page255" name="page255"></a></span> that
+ accompanies its consumption, and now, in the teeth of my instructions, you
+ give it up. I must say the ways of patients are a constant marvel to me.'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'But how,' I asked, 'do you know that my reverting to the pleasant habit
+ of not smoking is the cause of my present ailment?'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'Oh!' he said, 'you are not sure of that yourself, are you?'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'I thought,' I replied, 'there might be a doubt about it; though of
+ course I have forgotten what you told me two years ago.'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'It matters very little,' he said, 'whether you remember what I tell you
+ if you do not follow my orders. But as for knowing that indulgence in not
+ smoking is what has brought you to this state, how long is it since you
+ noticed these symptoms?'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'I can hardly say,' I answered. 'Still, I should be able to think back. I
+ had my first sore throat this year the night I saw Mr. Irving at the
+ Lyceum, and that was on my wife's birthday, the 3d of October. How long
+ ago is that?'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'Why, that is more than three months ago. Are you sure of the date?'"
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'Quite certain,' I told him; 'so, you see, I had my first sore throat
+ before I risked not smoking again.'"
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page256" name="page256"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'I don't understand this,' he said. 'Do you mean to say that in the
+ beginning of May you were taking my prescription daily? You were not
+ missing a day now and then&mdash;forgetting to order a new stock of cigars
+ when the others were done, or flinging them away before they were half
+ smoked? Patients do such things.'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'No, I assure you I compelled myself to smoke. At least&mdash;&mdash;'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'At least what? Come, now, if I am to be of any service to you, there
+ must be no reserve.'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'Well, now that I think of it, I was only smoking one cigar a day at that
+ time.'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'Ah! we have it now,' he cried. 'One cigar a day, when I ordered you
+ three? I might have guessed as much. When I tell non-smokers that they
+ must smoke or I will not be answerable for the consequences, they entreat
+ me to let them break themselves of the habit of not smoking gradually. One
+ cigarette a day to begin with, they beg of me, promising to increase the
+ dose by degrees. Why, man, one cigarette a day is poison; it is worse than
+ not smoking.'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'But that is not what I did.'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'The idea is the same,' he said. 'Like the others, you make all this moan
+ about giving up completely a habit you should never have acquired. <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page257" name="page257"></a></span> For my
+ own part, I cannot even understand where the subtle delights of not
+ smoking come in. Compared with health, they are surely immaterial.'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'Of course, I admit that.'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'Then, if you admit it, why pamper yourself?'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'I suppose because one is weak in matters of habit. You have many cases
+ like mine?'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'I have such cases every week,' he told me; 'indeed, it was having so
+ many cases of the kind that made me a specialist in the subject. When I
+ began practice I had not the least notion how common the non-tobacco
+ throat, as I call it, is.'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'But the disease has been known, has it not, for a long time?'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'Yes,' he said;' but the cause has only been discovered recently. I could
+ explain the malady to you scientifically, as many medical men would prefer
+ to do, but you are better to have it in plain English.'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'Certainly; but I should like to know whether the symptoms in other cases
+ have been in every way similar to mine.'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'They have doubtless differed in degree, but not otherwise,' he answered.
+ 'For instance, you say your sore throat is accompanied by depression of
+ spirits.'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page258" name="page258"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'Yes; indeed, the depression sometimes precedes the sore throat.'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'Exactly. I presume, too, that you feel most depressed in the evening&mdash;say,
+ immediately after dinner?'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'That is certainly the time I experience the depression most.'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'The result,' he said, 'if I may venture on somewhat delicate matters, is
+ that your depression of spirits infects your wife and family, even your
+ servants?'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'That is quite true,' I answered. 'Our home has by no means been so happy
+ as formerly. When a man is out of spirits, I suppose, he tends to be
+ brusque and undemonstrative to his wife, and to be easily irritated by his
+ children. Certainly that has been the case with me of late.'
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "'Yes,' he exclaimed, 'and all because you have not carried out my
+ directions. Men ought to see that they have no right to indulge in not
+ smoking, if only for the sake of their wives and families. A bachelor has
+ more excuse, perhaps; but think of the example you set your children in
+ not making an effort to shake this self-indulgence off. In short, smoke
+ for the sake of your wife and family, if you won't smoke for the sake of
+ your health.'"
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page259" name="page259"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I think this is pretty nearly the whole of Pettigrew's story, but I may
+ add that he left the house in depression of spirits, and then infected
+ Jimmy and the others with the same ailment, so that they should all have
+ hurried in a cab to the house of Dr. Southwick.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "Honestly," Pettigrew said, "I don't think she believed a word I told
+ her."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "If she had only been a man," Marriot sighed, "we could have got round
+ her."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "How?" asked Pettigrew.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "Why, of course," said Marriot, "we could have sent her a tin of the
+ Arcadia."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch31-t" id="image-ch31-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch31-t.png" style="width:400px;height:400px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. XXXI." />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page260" name="page260"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0032" id="h2HCH0032">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER XXXII.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ MY LAST PIPE.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch32-h" id="image-ch32-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch32-h.png"
+ style="float:left;clear:left;width:100px;height:593px;padding:0;margin: 0em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XXXII." />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The night of my last smoke drew near without any demonstration on my part
+ or on that of my friends. I noticed that none of them was now comfortable
+ if left alone with me, and I knew, I cannot tell how, that though they had
+ too much delicacy to refer in my presence to my coming happiness, they
+ often talked of it among themselves. They smoked hard and looked covertly
+ at me, and had an idea that they were helping me. They also addressed me
+ in a low voice, and took their seats noiselessly, as if some one were ill
+ in the next room.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "We have a notion," Scrymgeour said, with an effort, on my second night,
+ "that you would rather we did not feast you to-morrow evening?"
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "Oh, I want nothing of that kind," I said.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page261" name="page261"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "So I fancied," Jimmy broke in. "Those things are rather a mockery, but of
+ course if you thought it would help you in any way&mdash;&mdash;"
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "Or if there is anything else we could do for you," interposed Gilray,
+ "you have only to mention it."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Though they irritated rather than soothed me, I was touched by their
+ kindly intentions, for at one time I feared my friends would be sarcastic.
+ The next night was my last, and I found that they had been looking forward
+ to it with genuine pain. As will have been seen, their custom was to
+ wander into my room one by one, but this time they came together. They had
+ met in the boudoir, and came up the stair so quietly that I did not hear
+ them. They all looked very subdued, and Marriot took the cane chair so
+ softly that it did not creak. I noticed that after a furtive glance at me
+ each of them looked at the centre-table, on which lay my brier, Romulus
+ and Remus, three other pipes that all had their merits, though they never
+ touched my heart until now, my clay tobacco-jar, and my old pouch. I had
+ said good-by to these before my friends came in, and I could now speak
+ with a comparatively firm voice. Marriot and Gilray and Scrymgeour signed
+ to Jimmy, as if some plan of action had been arranged, <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page262" name="page262"></a></span> and
+ Jimmy said huskily, sitting upon the hearth-rug:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "Pettigrew isn't coming. He was afraid he would break down."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch32-1" id="image-ch32-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch32-1.png" style="width:400px;height:310px;"
+ alt="&quot;Then we began to smoke&quot;" />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ Then we began to smoke. It was as yet too early in the night for my last
+ pipe, but soon I regretted that I had not arranged to spend this night
+ alone. Jimmy was the only one of the Arcadians who had been at school with
+ me, and he was full of reminiscences which he addressed to the others just
+ as if I were not present.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "He was the life of the old school," Jimmy said, referring to me, "and
+ when I shut my eyes <span class="pagenum"><a id="page263" name="page263"></a>
+ </span> I can hear his merry laugh as if we were both in
+ knickerbockers still."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "What sort of character did he have among the fellows?" Gilray whispered.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "The very best. He was the soul of honor, and we all anticipated a great
+ future for him. Even the masters loved him; indeed, I question if he had
+ an enemy."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "I remember my first meeting with him at the university," said Marriot,
+ "and that I took to him at once. He was speaking at the debating society
+ that night, and his enthusiasm quite carried me away."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "And how we shall miss him here," said Scrymgeour, "and in my house-boat!
+ I think I had better sell the house-boat. Do you remember his favorite
+ seat at the door of the saloon?"
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "Do you know," said Marriot, looking a little scared, "I thought I would
+ be the first of our lot to go. Often I have kept him up late in this very
+ room talking of my own troubles, and little guessing why he sometimes
+ treated them a little testily."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ So they talked, meaning very well, and by and by it struck one o'clock. A
+ cold shiver passed through me, and Marriot jumped from his chair. It had
+ been agreed that I should begin my last pipe at one precisely.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page264" name="page264"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Whatever my feelings were up to this point I had kept them out of my face,
+ but I suppose a change came over me now. I tried to lift my brier from the
+ table, but my hand shook and the pipe tapped, tapped on the deal like an
+ auctioneer's hammer.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "Let me fill it," Jimmy said, and he took my old brier from me. He scraped
+ it energetically so that it might hold as much as possible, and then he
+ filled it. Not one of them, I am glad to remember, proposed a cigar for my
+ last smoke, or thought it possible that I would say farewell to tobacco
+ through the medium of any other pipe than my brier. I liked my brier best.
+ I have said this already, but I must say it again. Jimmy handed the brier
+ to Gilray, who did not surrender it until it reached my mouth. Then
+ Scrymgeour made a spill, and Marriot lighted it. In another moment I was
+ smoking my last pipe. The others glanced at one another, hesitated, and
+ put their pipes into their pockets.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ There was little talking, for they all gazed at me as if something
+ astounding might happen at any moment. The clock had stopped, but the
+ ventilator was clicking. Although Jimmy and the others saw only me, I
+ tried not to see only them. I conjured up the face of a lady, and she
+ smiled encouragingly, and then I felt safer. <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page265" name="page265"></a></span> But at times her face was
+ lost in smoke, or suddenly it was Marriot's face, eager, doleful, wistful.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ At first I puffed vigorously and wastefully, <a name="image-ch32-2"
+ id="image-ch32-2">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch32-2.png"
+ style="width:150px;height:410px;float:right;clear:right;padding:0;margin: .5em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;I conjured up the face of a lady&quot;" /> then I became
+ scientific and sent out rings of smoke so strong and numerous that half a
+ dozen of them were in the air at a time. In past days I had often followed
+ a ring over the table, across chairs, and nearly out at the window, but
+ that was when I blew one by accident and was loath to let it go. Now I
+ distributed them among my friends, who let them slip away into the
+ looking-glass. I think I had almost forgotten what I was doing and where I
+ was when an awful thing happened. My pipe went out!
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "There are remnants in it yet," Jimmy cried, with forced cheerfulness,
+ while Gilray blew the ashes off my sleeve, Marriot slipped a cushion
+ behind my back, and Scrymgeour made another spill. Again I smoked, but no
+ longer recklessly.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page266" name="page266"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It is revealing no secret to say that a drowning man sees his whole past
+ unfurl before him like a panorama. So little, however, was I, now on the
+ eve of a great happiness, like a drowning man, that nothing whatever
+ passed before me. I lost sight even of my friends, and though Jimmy was on
+ his knees at my feet, his hand clasping mine, he disappeared as if his
+ open mouth had swallowed the rest of his face. I had only one thought&mdash;that
+ I was smoking my last pipe. Unconsciously I crossed my legs, and one of my
+ slippers fell off; Jimmy, I think, slipped it on to my foot. Marriot stood
+ over me, gazing into the bowl of my pipe, but I did not see him.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Now I was puffing tremendously, but no smoke came. The room returned to
+ me, I saw Jimmy clearly, I felt Marriot overhead, and I heard them all
+ whispering. Still I puffed; I knew that my pipe was empty, but still I
+ puffed. Gilray's fingers tried to draw my brier from my mouth, but I bit
+ into it with my teeth, and still I puffed.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch32-3" id="image-ch32-3">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch32-3a.png"
+ style="width:123px;height: 88px;float:right;clear:right;padding:0;margin: .5em 0em 0em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;Not even Scrymgeour knew what my pouch had been to me&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch32-3b.png"
+ style="width:200px;height:141px;float:right;clear:right;padding:0;margin: 0em 0em 0em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;Not even Scrymgeour knew what my pouch had been to me&quot;" />
+ <img src="images/ch32-3c.png"
+ style="width:125px;height: 82px;float:right;clear:right;padding:0;margin: 0em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="&quot;Not even Scrymgeour knew what my pouch had been to me&quot;" />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ When I came to I was alone. I had a dim consciousness of having been
+ shaken by several hands, of a voice that I think was Scrymgeour's saying
+ that he would often write to me&mdash;though my new home was to be within
+ the four-mile <span class="pagenum"><a id="page267" name="page267"></a>
+ </span> radius&mdash;and of another voice that I think was Jimmy's,
+ telling Marriot not to let me see him breaking down. But though I had
+ ceased to puff, my brier was still in my mouth; and, indeed, I found it
+ there when William John shook me into life next morning.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ My parting with William John was almost sadder than the scene of the
+ previous night. I rang for him when I had tied up all my treasures in
+ brown paper, and I told him to give the tobacco-jar to Jimmy, Romulus to
+ Marriot, Remus to Gilray, and the pouch to Scrymgeour. William John bore
+ up till I came to the pouch, when he fairly blubbered. I had to hurry into
+ my bedroom, but I mean to do something yet for William John. Not even
+ Scrymgeour knew so well as he what my pouch had <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page268" name="page268"></a></span> been to me, and till I die
+ I shall always regret that I did not give it to William John. I kept my
+ brier.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch32-t" id="image-ch32-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a>
+ </p>
+ <div class="figcenter">
+ <img src="images/ch32-t.png" style="width:400px;height:400px;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. XXXII." />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page269" name="page269"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="h2HCH0033" id="h2HCH0033">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER XXXIII.
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ WHEN MY WIFE IS ASLEEP AND ALL THE HOUSE IS STILL.
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch33-h" id="image-ch33-h">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch33-h.png"
+ style="width:200px;height:200px;float:right;clear:right;padding:0;margin: 0em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="Headpiece Chap. XXXIII. &quot;When my wife is asleep and all the house is still&quot;" />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Perhaps the heading of this paper will deceive some readers into thinking
+ that I smoke nowadays in camera. It is, I know, a common jest among
+ smokers that such a promise as mine is seldom kept, and I allow that the
+ Arcadians tempt me still. But never shall it be said of me with truth that
+ I have broken my word. I smoke no more, and, indeed, though the scenes of
+ my bachelorhood frequently rise before me in dreams, painted as Scrymgeour
+ could not paint them, I am glad, when I wake up, that they are only
+ dreams. Those selfish days are done, and I see that though they were happy
+ days, the happiness was a mistake. As for the struggle that is supposed to
+ take place between a man and tobacco, after he sees smoking in its true
+ colors, I never experienced it. I have not even <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page270" name="page270"></a></span> any craving for the
+ Arcadia now, though it is a tobacco that should only be smoked by our
+ greatest men. Were we to present a tin of it to our national heroes,
+ instead of the freedom of the city, they would probably thank us more.
+ Jimmy and the others are quite unworthy to smoke it; indeed, if I had my
+ way they would give up smoking altogether. Nothing, perhaps, shows more
+ completely how I have severed my bonds than this: that my wife is willing
+ to let our friends smoke in the study, but I will not hear of it. There
+ shall be no smoking in my house; and I have determined to speak to Jimmy
+ about smoking out at our spare bedroom window. It is a mere contemptible
+ pretence to say that none of the smoke comes back into the room. The
+ curtains positively reek of it, and we must have them washed at once. I
+ shall speak plainly to Jimmy because I want him to tell the others. They
+ must understand clearly on what terms they are received in this house, and
+ if they prefer making chimneys of themselves to listening to music, by all
+ means let them stay at home.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ But when my wife is asleep and all the house is still, I listen to the man
+ through the wall. At such times I have my brier in my mouth, but there is
+ no harm in that, for it is empty. I <span class="pagenum"><a id="page271"
+ name="page271"></a></span> did not like to give away my brier,
+ knowing no one who understood it, and I always carry it about with me now
+ to remind me of my dark past. When the man through the wall lights up I
+ put my cold pipe in my mouth and we have a quiet hour together.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I have never, to my knowledge, seen the man through the wall, for his door
+ is round the corner, and, besides, I have no interest in him until
+ half-past eleven P.M. We begin then. I know him chiefly by his pipes, and
+ them I know by his taps on the wall as he knocks the ashes out of them. He
+ does not smoke the Arcadia, for his temper is hasty, and he breaks the
+ coals with his foot. Though I am compelled to say that I do not consider
+ his character very lovable, he has his good points, and I like his
+ attachment to his brier. He scrapes it, on the whole, a little roughly,
+ but that is because he is so anxious to light up again, and I discovered
+ long ago that he has signed an agreement with his wife to go to bed at
+ half-past twelve. For some time I could not understand why he had a silver
+ rim put on the bowl. I noticed the change in the tap at once, and the
+ natural conclusion would have been that the bowl had cracked. But it never
+ had the tap of a cracked bowl. I was reluctant to believe that the man
+ through the <span class="pagenum"><a id="page272" name="page272"></a>
+ </span> wall was merely some vulgar fellow, and I felt that he could
+ not be so, or else he would have smoked his meerschaum more. At last I
+ understood. The bowl had worn away on one side, <a name="image-ch33-1"
+ id="image-ch33-1">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch33-1a.png"
+ style="width:250px;height:239px;float:left;clear:left;padding:0;margin: .5em 1em 0em 0em;"
+ alt="&quot;The man through the wall&quot;" /> <img src="images/ch33-1b.png"
+ style="width:190px;height:127px;float:left;clear:left;padding:0;margin: 0em 1em .5em 0em;"
+ alt="&quot;The man through the wall&quot;" /> and the silver rim had been
+ needed to keep the tobacco in. Undoubtedly this was the explanation, for
+ even before the rim came I was a little puzzled by the taps of the brier.
+ He never seemed to hit the wall with the whole mouth of the bowl, but of
+ course the reason was that he could not. At the same time I do not
+ exonerate him from blame. He is a clumsy smoker to burn his bowl at one
+ side, and I am afraid he lets the stem slip round in his teeth. Of course,
+ I see that the mouth-piece is loose, but a piece of blotting-paper would
+ remedy that.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a id="page273" name="page273"></a></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ His meerschaum is not such a good one as Jimmy's. Though Jimmy's
+ boastfulness about his meerschaum was hard to bear, none of us ever denied
+ the pipe's worth. The man through the wall has not a cherry-wood stem to
+ his meerschaum, and consequently it is too light. A ring has been worn
+ into the palm of his left hand, owing to his tapping the meerschaum there,
+ and it is as marked as Jimmy's ring, for, though Jimmy tapped more
+ strongly, the man through the wall has to tap oftener.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch33-2" id="image-ch33-2">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch33-2a.png"
+ style="width:350px;height:265px;float:right;clear:right;padding:0;margin: .5em 0em 0em 1em;"
+ alt="Pipes" /> <img src="images/ch33-2b.png"
+ style="width:127px;height:295px;float:right;clear:right;padding:0;margin: 0em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="Pipes" />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ What I chiefly dislike about the man through the wall is his treatment of
+ his clay. A clay, I need scarcely say, has an entirely different tap from
+ a meerschaum, but the man through the wall does not treat these two pipes
+ as if they were on an equality. He ought to tap his clay on the palm of
+ his hand, but he seldom does so, and I am strongly of opinion that when he
+ does, it is only because he has forgotten that this is not the meerschaum.
+ Were he to tap the clay on the walls or on the ribs of the fireplace he
+ would smash it, so he taps it on a coal. About this there is something
+ contemptible. I am not complaining because he has little affection for his
+ clay. In face of all that has been said in honor of clays, and knowing
+ that this statement will occasion an outcry against me, I <span
+ class="pagenum"><a id="page274" name="page274"></a></span> admit
+ that I never cared for clays myself. A rank tobacco is less rank through a
+ church-warden, but to smoke the Arcadia through a clay is to incur my
+ contempt, and even my resentment. But to disbelieve in clays is one thing
+ and to treat them badly is another. If the man through the wall has
+ decided, after reflection and experiment, that his clay is a mistake, I
+ say let him smoke it no more; but so long as he does smoke it I would have
+ it receive consideration from him. I very much question whether, if he
+ reads his heart, he could learn from it that he loves his meerschaum more
+ than his clay, yet because the meerschaum cost more he taps it on his
+ palm. This is a serious charge to bring against any man, but I do not make
+ it lightly.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The man through the wall smokes each of these three pipes nightly,
+ beginning with the brier. Thus he does not like a hot pipe. Some will hold
+ that he ought to finish with the brier, as it is his favorite, but I am
+ not of that opinion. Undoubtedly, I think, the first pipe is the sweetest;
+ indeed, I feel bound to make a statement here. I have an uneasy feeling
+ that I never did justice to meerschaums, and for this reason: I only
+ smoked them after my brier was hot, so that I never gave them a fair
+ chance. If <span class="pagenum"><a id="page275" name="page275"></a>
+ </span> I had begun the day with a meerschaum, might it not have shown
+ itself in a new light? That is a point I shall never be able to decide
+ now, but I often think of it, and I leave the verdict to others.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="image-ch33-t" id="image-ch33-t">
+ <!-- IMG --></a> <img src="images/ch33-ta.png"
+ style="width:205px;height:447px;float:right;clear:right;padding:0;margin: 1em 0em 0em 1em;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. XXXIII." /> <img src="images/ch33-tb.png"
+ style="width:400px;height:115px;float:right;clear:right;padding:0;margin: 0em 0em .5em 1em;"
+ alt="Tailpiece Chap. XXXIII." /> Even though I did not know that the man
+ through the wall must retire at half-past twelve, his taps at that hour
+ would announce it. He then gives each of his pipes <span class="pagenum"><a
+ id="page276" name="page276"></a></span> a final tap, not briskly
+ as before, but slowly, as if he was thinking between each tap. I have
+ sometimes decided to send him a tin of the only tobacco to smoke, but on
+ the whole I could not undertake the responsibility of giving a man whom I
+ have only studied for a few months such a testimonial. Therefore when his
+ last tap says good-night to me, <span
+ style="display:block;text-align:center;text-indent:0;"> I take my cold
+ brier out of <br /> my mouth, tap it on the<br /> mantelpiece, smile<br />
+ sadly, and<br /> go to<br /> bed.</span>
+ </p>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY LADY NICOTINE ***</div>
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