From an exercise on the use of the subjunctive. Beyond this point my
Spanish will not carry me. Compulsory Greek, acting on a fine natural
stupidity, deprived me early of all power of learning languages. I
envy my children who chatter to the servants in what is good enough
Canario, though I doubt it being Castilian. My voyage was abominable.
I am driven into the second class. I like second class _men_ (not
women): they are often very interesting people who have seen odd things
and been in strange places--but a cabin close to the screw is bad
and sleep was out of the question. Two lines of F. Myers (have I got
them rightly) got into my head and set themselves to the accompanying
noises:--"doubting if any recompense hereafter waits to atone the
intolerable wrong?" But this was faithlessness--it is all atoned by a
few hours of this glorious sunshine. Already I am regenerate and a new
man.... Do you know Paul Bourget's _L'Étape_? It is not great but it
served to kill some bad hours. And do you know Huysman? He looks to me
like a debauchee who has turned himself into a ritualistic curate and
is very sweet upon his highly artificial style. I am now tackling _Gil
Blas_ in the classical Spanish translation which some say is better
than the original.
My house of call is Quiney's but I am up country at a place called
Tafira.