CARDINAL RICHELIEU once observed to Madame DE ST. GALMIER, that if Kings
could but know the folly of their subjects they would hesitate at
nothing. Mr. JEREMY evidently knows thoroughly how stupendously
cabbage-headed his readers are, for he never hesitates to put forward
the most astounding and muddy-minded theories. For instance, he asks us
this week to believe that _Saladin_ ought to have won the Shropshire
Handicap, because he was known to be a better horse, from two miles up
to fifty, than the four other horses who faced the starter. If this
stuff had been addressed to an audience of moon-calves and mock-turtles
it might have passed muster, but, thank Heaven, we are not _all_ quite
so low as that yet. Let me therefore tell Mr. JEREMY, that when a horse
like _Saladin_, whose back-bone is like the Himalaya mountains, and his
pastern joints like a bottle-nosed whale with a cold in his head, comes
to the post with two stone and a beating to his credit, and four hoofs
about the size of a soup-tureen to his legs, he can never be _expected_
to get the better of slow roarers like _Carmichael_ and _Busby_, to say
nothing of _Whatnot_ and _Pumblechook_. It is well known, of course,
that the latter has been in hard training for a month, and a better
horse at cornbin or bran-mash never stepped. _Saladin_ won, I know, but
it was for reasons very different from those given by Mr. JEREMY.
There is nothing new about the Derby horses. I believe they are mostly
in training, but I reserve my opinion until I see what the addle-pates
who own them mean to do.
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"A SELF-MADE MAN", said Mrs. R., thoughtfully, "is the artichoke of his
own fortunes."
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[Illustration: THE MODERN HERCULES AND THE PYGMIES.
(_Extracts from the Diary of an Explorer in the Society Islands._)]
From the bears, apes, and foxes with which the thickets of the great
forest of Societas abounded, it is but a step to the Pygmy tribes whom
we found inhabiting the tract of country between the Uperten and the
Suburban rivers. The Pygmies are as old as Swelldom, as ubiquitous as
Boredom, the two secular pests of the earth. You will remember that
Hercules once fell asleep in the deserts of Africa, after his conquest
of Antaeus, and was disturbed in his well-earned rest by an attack of a
large army of these troublesome Lilliputians, who, it is recorded,
"discharged their arrows with great fury upon his arms and legs." The
hero, it is added, "pleased with their courage, wrapped a great number
of them in the skin of the Nemean lion, and carried them to Eurystheus."
I was not "pleased with their courage", but plagued with their
importunities. HERODOTUS described the capture of five young explorers
from Naasamoves while they were examining some curious trees in the
Niger basin, and tells how the little men took them to their villages
and showed them about to their fellow Pygmies. So, in a sense, the
Pygmies of Societas "captured" me, and showed me about to their fellow
denizens of this Land of Lilliput. They "discharged their arrows" (which
they called "In-Vites", and each of which was branded with the mystic
letters, R.S.V.P.) at me in swarms, and though they rather tickled than
hurt, yet after a time their minute but multiplied prickings became no
end of a nuisance.
Let us pause a little, and pay such honour as is due for persistence and
importunity to these "little people", who have outlived the wise men of
Egypt, the prophets of Palestine, the magicians of Persia, and the sages
of Greece and Rome. They have actually been able to hold their own from
the days of HOMER, through those of HORACE, down even to those of
HAGGARD. I have seen the wear and tear of the Pyramids of Egypt (which
is nothing to that of a lionised hero in Societas); I can certify that
the Sphynx presents a very battered appearance indeed (though not so
battered as mine, after the "little people" had done with me), but the
Pygmies of to-day in Societas appear to be as plentiful and as perky as
those that thousands of years ago swarmed in AEthiopia, built their
houses with egg-shells, made war upon the Cranes, and attacked the tired
hero Hercules.
You will understand that I, who have always professed to love humanity,
even in the form of mannikins, better than beetles and butterflies, was
as much interested in these small creatures as was Hercules in the
skinful of midgets he carried to the exacting Eurystheus. As I looked at
them, and thought how these represented the oldest race on the
globe--namely, the Inquisitive Quidnuncs--my admiration really went to
greater lengths than scoffing cynics might have expected.
These Pygmies of Societas, though small, are cunning, and wise in their
generation. For the most part they toil not, (save at pleasure-seeking
and lion-hunting), neither do they spin (anything beyond the edifying
yarns they call "after-dinner stories"). But they manage to live on the
fat of the land. The larger aborigines (called the Whirkirs) are very
industrious, and form the clearings and cultivate the various produce of
the place. The Pygmies appear to be aware that the plantations and
powers of the Whirkirs are practically inexhaustible, and to think that
they have as much right to the produce as the aboriginal owners and
tillers. Therefore, they cling tightly to these plantations, and make
the larger and more laborious natives pay dearly for the honour of their
acquaintance. In another manner they perform valuable service by setting
fashions, receiving strangers, and assisting in the defence of the
settlements; they also hunt game, and supply the larger natives with
plenty to do in working for and waiting on them. It appeared to me that
the Pygmies were regarded somewhat as parasites (though highly
ornamental ones, like orchids) whose departure would be more welcome--to
the aborigines--than their vicinity. But a race which has survived so
much and so many things is not easily to be got rid of.
Anyhow, _I_ couldn't get rid of them, though sometimes I felt
inclined to imitate Hercules. With their arrows and their unblushing
importunities they had me at advantage, and even as _Gulliver_ became
the victim of the midgets of Lilliput, so did I of the innumerable,
inquisitive, imperturbably impertinent Pygmies of Societas.
* * * * *