The time was out of joint; and the
Swan, recognising that he was the last person to ever set it right,
consoled himself by offering the world a soothing doctrine of despair.
Not for me, thank you, that Swansdown pillow. I refuse as flatly
to fuddle myself in the shop of "W. Shakespeare, Druggist," as
to stimulate myself with the juicy joints of "C. Dickens, Family
Butcher." Of these and suchlike pernicious establishments my patronage
consists in weaving round the shop-door a barbed-wire entanglement of
dialectic and then training my moral machine-guns on the customers.
In this devilish function I have, as you know, acquired by practice
a tremendous technical skill; and but for the more or less innocent
pride I take in showing off my accomplishment to all and sundry, I
doubt whether even my iron nerves would be proof against the horrors
that have impelled me to thus perfect myself. In my nonage I believed
humanity could be reformed if only it were intelligently preached
at for a sufficiently long period. This first fine careless rapture
I could no more recapture, at my age, than I could recapture
hoopingcough or nettlerash. One by one, I have flung all political
nostra overboard, till there remain only dynamite and scientific
breeding.
Pages:
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117