More Trivia Part 9

'Do you think there are ghosts?' she foamed, her eyes ablaze, 'do you believe in Magic?' I had no intention of discussing the supernatural with this spook-enthusiast.

'Magic,' I mused aloud, 'what a beautiful word Magic is when you think of it.'

'Are you interested in etymology?' I asked. 'To my mind there is nothing more fascinating than the derivation of words--it's full of the romance and wonder of real life and history. Think of _Magic_, for instance; it comes, as no doubt you know, from the Magi, or ancient priests of Persia.'

'Don't you love our deposit of Persian words in English? To me they glitter like jewels in our northern speech. _Magic_ and _Paradise_, for instance; and the names of flowers and gems and rich fruits and tissues--_Tulip_ and _Lilac_ and _Jasmin_ and _Peach_ and _Lapis Lazuli_,' I chanted, waving my hands to keep off the spooks, 'and _Orange_ and _Azure_ and _Scarlet_.'

MRS. BACKE

Mrs. Backe would be down in a few minutes, so I waited in the drawing-room of this new acquaintance who had so kindly invited me to call.

It is indiscreet, but I cannot help it; if I am left alone in a room, I cannot help peering about at the pictures and ornaments and books.

Interiors, the habitations people make for their souls, are so fascinating, and tell so much; they interest me like sea-sh.e.l.ls, or the nests of birds.

'A lover of Switzerland,' I inferred, 'has travelled in the East--the complete works of Canon Farrar--that big bust with whiskers is Mendelssohn, no doubt. Good heavens! a stuffed cat! And that Moorish plaque is rather awful. Still, some of the nicest people have no taste--'

Then I saw the clock. One look at that pink china clock, with the face of a monkey, was enough. Softly from that drawing-room, softly I stole downstairs, and closed the front door of that house softly behind me.

WHISKERS

There was once a young man who thought he saw Life as it really is, who prided himself on looking at it grimly in the face without illusions.

And he went on looking at it grimly, as he thought, for a number of years. This was his notion of himself; but one day, meeting some very young people, he saw, reflected as it were in their eyes, a bland old gentleman with a white waistcoat and Victorian whiskers, a lover of souls and sunsets, and n.o.ble solutions for all problems--

That was what he saw in the eyes of those atrocious young men.

THE SPELLING LESSON.

The anecdote which had caused the laughter of those young people was not a thing to joke about. I expressed my conviction briefly; but the time-honoured word I made use of seemed unfamiliar to them--they looked at each other and began whispering together. Then one of them asked in a hushed voice, 'It's what, did you say?'

I repeated my monosyllable loudly.

Again they whispered together, and again their spokesman came forward.

'Do you mind telling us how you spell it?'

'I spell it with a W!' I shouted.

'W-r-o-n-g--Wrong!'

JEUNESSE

Mind you, I don't say that their eyes aren't bigger than ours, their eyelashes longer, their faces more pink and plump--and they can skip about with an agility of limb which we cannot equal. But all the same a great deal too much is made of these painted dolls.

Think of the thinness of their conversation!

Depicted in gaudy tints on the covers of paper novels they look well enough; and they make a better appearance in punts, I admit, than we do.

But is that a reason why they should be allowed to disturb the decorum of tables, and interrupt with their giggles and squeaks our grave consultations?

HANGING ON

If it didn't all depend on me; if there was any one else to decide the destinies of Europe; if I wasn't bound to vindicate the Truth on all occasions, and shout down every falsehood, standing alone in arms against a sea of error, and holding desperately in place the hook from which Truth and Righteousness and Good Taste hang as by a thread and tremble over the unspeakable abyss; if but for a day or two;--it cannot be, I cannot let Art and Civilisation go crashing into chaos. Suppose the skies should fall in while I was napping; suppose the round world should take its chance to collapse into Stardust again?

SUPERANNUATION

'What an intolerable young person!' I exclaimed, the moment he had left the room. 'How can one sit and listen to such folly? The arrogance and ignorance of these young men! And the things they write, and their pictures!'

'It's all pose and self-advertis.e.m.e.nt, I tell you--'

'They have no reverence!' I gobbled.

Now why do I do it? I know it turns the hair grey and stiffens the joints--why, then, by denouncing them in this unhygienic fashion, do I talk myself into an invalid and old fogey before my time?

AT THE CLUB

'It's the result of Board School Education--'

'It's the popular Press--'

'It's the selfishness of the Working Cla.s.ses--'

'It's the Cinema--'