sundry smaller articles, were gone, I knew not whither. I did but know
they had vanished utterly; wherefore I adhered with the clutch of
desperation to my umbrella and my small black portmanteau. Even my
collection of assorted souvenir postcards of European views, whereof I
had contemplated making an albumed gift to my Great-Aunt Paulina, on my
return to my beloved native land, was irretrievably lost to me forever.
Still, we moved--haltingly and slowly, it is true, and with frequent
stoppages. None the less, we moved; progress was definitely being made
in the direction of the seaboard, and in contemplation of this fact one
found an infinitesimal measure of consolation, gleaming, so to speak,
against a dark cloud of forebodings, like one lone starry orb in a
storm-envisaged firmament. During the early part of our journey I could
not fail to give heed to the amazing attitude maintained by the young
ladies. Repeatedly, as we paused on a siding to permit the passage of a
laden troop train, I detected them in the act of waving hand or kerchief
at the soldiery.
And once I actually overheard Miss Marble remark to Miss Canbee that
she, for one, was sorry we were going away from hostilities rather than
toward them. One could scarce credit one's ears! Could it be true, as
students of psychology have repeatedly affirmed, that the spirit of
youth is unquenchable, even in the presence of impending peril? Or, had
my own precept and example stimulated these young women into a display
of seeming light-heartedness? Perhaps both--certainly the latter. As
for me, my one consuming thought now was to bid farewell forever to the
shores of a land where war is permitted to eventuate with such
abruptness and with so little consideration for visiting noncombatants.
To those about me I made no secret of my desire in this regard, speaking
with such intensity as to produce a quavering of the voice.
Certain decided views, entirely in accordance with my own, were so
succinctly expressed by a gentleman who shared the compartment into
which I was huddled with some eight or nine others that I cannot forbear
from repeating them here.
This gentleman, a Mr. John K. Botts, of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and
evidently a person of much wealth and no small importance in his home
city, said things had come to a pretty pass when a freeborn American
citizen who had been coming to Europe every summer for years, always
spending his money like water and never asking the price of anything in
advance, but just planking down whatever the grafters wanted for it,
should have his motor car confiscated and his trunks held up on him and
his plans all disarranged, just because a lot of these foreigners
thought they wanted to fight one another over something. He said that he
had actually been threatened with arrest by a measly army captain whom
he, Mr. Botts, could buy and sell a hundred times over without ever
feeling it. He was strongly in favour of wiring our Government to order
the warring nations to suspend hostilities until all the Americans in
Europe could get back home, and mentioned thirty days as a suitable time
for this purpose.
With regard to this last suggestion I heartily concurred; and my second
cablegram to Mr. Bryan, filed while en route, embodied the thought, for
which I now wish to give Mr. John K. Botts due credit as its creator. To
insure prompt delivery into Mr. Bryan's hands, I sent the message in
duplicate, one copy being addressed to him at the State Department, in
Washington, and the other in care of the Silvery Bells Lecture and
Chautauqua Bureau, in the event that he might be on the platform rather
than at his desk.
I should have asked Mr. Botts to sign the cablegrams with me jointly
but for the fact that after the first two hours of travel he was no
longer with us. He left the train at a way station a few miles from
Paris, with a view, as he announced, to chartering a special train from
the military forces to convey him, regardless of expense, to his
destination, and failed to return. Days elapsed before I learned through
roundabout sources that he had been detained in quasi custody because of
a groundless suspicion on the part of the native authorities that he was
mildly demented, though how such a theory could have been harboured by
any one is, I admit, entirely beyond my comprehension.
Nightfall loomed imminent when we reached the town of Abbevilliers, a
place of approximately twenty thousand inhabitants. In happier and less
chaotic times one might have spent a pleasant and profitable day, or
perhaps two days, in Abbevilliers, for here, so the guidebook informed
me, was to be found a Gothic cathedral of the fifteenth and sixteenth
centuries, an ancient fortress, and a natural history collection; but
now my ambition was to pass Abbevilliers by with the greatest possible
despatch.
Yet, what was one to do when soldiers in uniform and led by officers
entered the train and required the passengers to vacate forthwith, on
the excuse that the coaches were required for the transportation of
troops? Protests were presented, but all to no avail, the officers
remaining obdurate in the face of entreaties, objurgations, and even
offers of money by a number of individuals hailing from various sections
of the United States and elsewhere. We detrained; there was, in fact, no
other course left to us.
Pausing at the station long enough to indite and leave behind a
cablegram acquainting Mr. Bryan with this newest outrage, I set forth,
with my eight clustering wards, to find suitable quarters for the night.
We visited hotel after hotel, to be met everywhere with the statement
that each already was full to overflowing with refugees. At last, spent
and discouraged, I obtained shelter for my little expedition beneath the
roof of a small and emphatically untidy establishment on the shores of
that turbid stream, the River Somme. For the accommodation of the young
ladies two small rooms were available, but to my profound distaste I was
informed that I must sleep through the night on--hear this, Mister
President!--on a billiard table!
I had never slept on a billiard table before. Willingly, I shall never
do so again. Moreover, I was not permitted to have an entire billiard
table to myself. I was compelled to share it with two other persons,
both total strangers to me.
I must qualify that last assertion; for one of my bedfellows--or
table-fellows, to employ exact language--lost no time in informing me
regarding himself and his history. Despite the hardness of my improvised
couch, I fain would have relinquished myself to Nature's sweet
restorer--that is, slumber--for I was greatly awearied by the exertions
of the day; but this gentleman, who was of enormous physical
proportions, evinced so strong an inclination to have converse with me
that I felt it the part of discretion, and of politeness as well, to
give ear.
Speaking in a quaint and at times almost incomprehensible vernacular, he
began by telling me as we reclined side by side beneath the same
coverlid that he was no other than Zeno the Great. He then paused, as
though to allow me time in which to recover from any astonishment I
might feel. In sooth, I had never before heard of any person wearing so
singular an appellation; but, realising instinctively that some response
from me was expected, I murmured, "Ah, indeed! How very interesting!"
and begged him to proceed.
This he straightway did, paying no heed to the muttered complaints of
our third companion, who reclined on the other side from me, I being in
the middle. Since our fortunes were thereafter to be so strangely
intertwined, I deem it best to detail in effect the disclosures then and
there made to me by this gentleman, Zeno the Great.
His name, it developed, was not Zeno, but Finnigan, the more sonorous
cognomen having been adopted for professional purposes. He had begun
life humbly, as a blacksmith's assistant in a hamlet in Michigan, later
attaching himself to a travelling circus. Here his duties mainly
consisted in lending assistance in the elevating and lowering of the
tent. Possessing great bodily strength and activity, however, he had in
spare time perfected himself in the art of lifting, balancing and
juggling objects of enormous weight, such as steel bars, iron balls, and
so on, with the gratifying result that he presently became a duly
qualified performer, appearing for a term of years before large and
enthusiastic audiences, and everywhere with the most marked success
imaginable; in fact, he was now without a peer in his chosen vocation,
as he himself freely conceded. He expressed himself as being exceedingly
sorry not to have with him a scrapbook containing a great number of
press clippings laudatory of his achievements, adding that he would have
been glad to lend me the book in order that I might read its entire
contents at my leisure.
At length his fame, having first spread the length and breadth of our
own country, reached foreign shores. After spirited bidding on the part
of practically all the leading Continental managers he accepted an
engagement at a princely salary to perform before the crowned heads of
Europe, and others, as the principal attraction of a vaudeville company
contemplating a tour of Europe. I recall that he specifically mentioned
crowned heads. Feeling that the importance of the event justified a
lavishness in the matter of personal garb, he said that before sailing
he had visited the establishment of a famous costumer located on the
Bowery, in the city of New York, and there had purchased attire suitable
to be worn on the occasion of his public appearances abroad.
This apparel, he admitted, had undergone some wear, as the property of a
previous owner, being, in fact, what is known as second-handed; but,
because of its effectiveness of design and the fortunate circumstance of
its being a perfect fit, he had not hesitated to purchase it. I ask you,
Mister President, to mark well this detail, for it, too, has a
profoundly significant bearing on future events.
Continuing, my new acquaintance stated that he had reached France but a
day or two before the mobilisation and, like myself, had been hurled
unexpectedly into a very vortex of chaos and confusion. He had lost a
collection of photographs of himself, and his treasured
scrapbook--losses that he regretted exceedingly; but he had clung fast
to his stage attire and to his juggling appliances, bearing them away
with him by hand from Paris. He was now endeavouring to make his way
back to England, intending to return thence to America without loss of
time.
This narration consumed, I presume, the greater part of two hours, I,
meantime, endeavouring to conceal any signs of increasing drowsiness. He
was, I think, nearing the conclusion of his tale when the porter of the
hotel appeared before us in the semi-gloom in which the billiard room
was shrouded. Observing that we were yet awake, he gave vent to an
extended statement, ejaculating with great volubility and many
gesticulations of eyebrow, hand and shoulder. The French in which he
declaimed was of so corrupted a form that one could not understand him;
and, since one of my neighbours was now soundly asleep and the other
knew no French, we were at a loss to get on until the porter had
recourse to an improvised sign language.
Producing a watch he pointed to the Roman numeral VII on its face and
then, emitting a hissing sound from between his front teeth, he imparted
to his hands a rapid circular motion, as though imitating the stirring
of some mixture. At once we agreed between our two selves that this
strange demonstration had reference, firstly to the hour when breakfast
would be served on the following morning, and, secondly, to the articles
of drink and food which would be available for our consumption at that
time.
[Illustration: FROM ITS DEPTHS I EXTRACTED THE PARTING GIFTS BESTOWED
UPON ME BY MY GREAT-AUNT PAULINA]
Accordingly I nodded, saying: "_Oui, oui; je comprends._" And at that,
seemingly satisfied, the worthy fellow withdrew, all smiles. Shortly
thereafter we drifted off to sleep and I knew no more until I was roused
by the brilliant rays of the August sun shining in my face and rose to
a sitting attitude, to find that the third man had already departed,
leaving to Zeno the Great and myself the complete occupancy of the
billiard table.
As I straightened to my full stature, with my limbs aching and my whole
corporeal frame much stiffened by enforced contact during a period of
hours with the comparatively unyielding surface of the billiard table, I
made another discovery, highly disconcerting in its nature. Ere retiring
to rest I had placed my shoes side by side beneath the table. It was now
evident that while I slept some person or persons unknown to me had
removed them. I hypothesised this deduction from the fact that they were
quite utterly gone. A thorough scrutiny of my surroundings, which I
conducted with the aid of my late sleeping companion, merely served to
confirm this belief, the search being bootless. I have no intention of
making a pun here. Puns are to me vulgar, and hence odious. I mean
bootless in the proper sense of the word.
Balancing myself on the marge or verge of the billiard table--for the
tiled surface of the floor had imparted a sense of chill to my
half-soled feet and already I was beginning to repress incipient
sneezes--I called aloud, and yet again I called. There was no response.
A sense of the undignifiedness of my attitude came to me. I opened my
remaining portmanteau, which had served me as a pillow--and such a
pillow! From its depths I extracted the parting gifts bestowed upon me
by my Great-Aunt Paulina and adjusted them to my chilled extremities.
Ah, little had she recked, as her deft fingers wove the several skeins
of wool into the finished fabric, that under such circumstances as
these, in such a place as this, and almost within sound of war's dread
alarums, I should now wear them!
I was reminded that I craved food and I mentioned the thought to Mr.
Finnigan--or, as I shall call him, Zeno the Great. It appeared that he,
too, was experiencing a similar natural longing, for his manner
instantly became exuberantly cordial. For all his massiveness of contour
and boisterous manner of speech, I felt that this new-made friend of
mine had a warm heart. He dealt me an unnecessarily violent but
affectionate blow between the shoulders, and as I reeled from the shock,
gasping for breath, he cried out in his uncouth but kindly way:
"Little one, that's a swell idea--let's you and me go to it!" Note--By
_it_, he undoubtedly meant breakfast.
With these words he lifted his luggage consisting of a large black box
securely bound with straps and padlocked as to the hasp, telling me at
the same time that he doubted whether any human being in the world save
himself could stir it from the floor; for, as he vouchsafed, it
contained not only his costume but also a set of juggling devices of
solid iron, weighing in the aggregate an incredible number of pounds. I
have forgotten the exact figures, but my recollection is that he said
upward of a thousand pounds net. As he shouldered this mighty burden he
remarked to me over his shoulder:
"I guess I'm bad--eh?"
However, as I have just explained and now reiterate, I am convinced he
was not bad at all, but good at bottom; so I contented myself by
saying:
"No, no; quite the contrary, I am sure."
As we emerged from the billiard room into the small entrance hall or
lobby that adjoined it, I was struck with the air of silence which
prevailed. The proprietor was not visible; no other person was visible.
Once more I called out, saying: "Hello, my good man! Where are you?" or
words to that effect; but only echo answered. I fared to the dining
room, but not a living soul was in sight there. Beset by a sudden dread
suspicion I hastily ascended the stairs to the upper floor and sped
through an empty corridor to the two rooms wherein my eight wards had
been lodged. The doors of both chambers stood open; but the interiors,
though showing signs of recent occupancy, were deserted. I even explored
the closets--no one there, either! Conjecture was succeeded by alarm and
alarm by outright distress.
Where had they gone? Where had everybody gone? Unbidden and unanswered,
these questions leaped to my bewildered brain, firing it with horrible
forebodings.
Sounds of loud and excited outcry came reverberatively to me from below.
With all possible speed I retraced my steps to the entrance hall. There
I beheld the proprietor in close physical contact with Zeno the Great,
striving with all his powers to restrain the infuriated latter from
committing a bodily assault on the frightened porter, who apparently had
just entered by the street door and was cowering in a corner in an
attitude of supplication, loudly appealing for mercy, while the landlord
in broken English was all the time pleading with the giant to remain
tranquil.
Into the midst of the struggle I interposed myself, and when a measure
of calm had been re-established I learned the lamentable and stunning
truth. Stupefied, dazed and, for the nonce, speechless, I stared from
one to the other, unwilling to credit my own sense of hearing.
At seven of the clock a special train had steamed away for Calais,
bearing the refugees. The proprietor and his minion had but just
returned from the station, whence the train had departed a short half
hour before. Aboard it were the Americans who had been stranded in
Abbevilliers on the evening previous. My eight young lady seniors were
aboard it, doubtlessly assuming, in the haste and confusion of the
start, that I had found lodgment in some other compartment than the one
occupied by them.
All the recent guests of this hotel were aboard it--with two exceptions.
One was Zeno the Great; the other the author of this distressing
narrative.
With one voice we demanded to know why we, too, had not been advised in
advance. The proprietor excitedly declared that he had sent the porter
to make the rounds of the house during the night and that the porter
returning to him, reported that, either by word of mouth or by signs, he
had duly informed all of the plans afoot for the ensuing morning.
"He tell me zat ze billiard-table gentlemans do not understand ze
French," proclaimed the landlord; "and zat zen he make wit' 'is mouth
and 'is hands ze representation of ze _chemin de fer_--what you call ze
locomoteef; and zen you say to him: 'Yes, yes--all is well; we
comprehend fully.'"
With a low, poignant moan I pressed my hands, palms inward, to my
throbbing temples and staggered for support against the nearermost wall.
I saw it all now. When the porter had emitted those hissing sounds from
between his teeth we very naturally interpreted them as an effort on his
part to simulate the sound produced by steaming-hot breakfast coffee.
When, in a circular fashion, he rotated his hand we thought he meant
scrambled eggs. Between wonder at the incredible stupidity of the porter
and horror at the situation of my eight unprotected and defenceless
young lady seniors, now separated from me by intervening and rapidly
increasing miles, I was rent by conflicting emotions until reason
tottered on her throne.
Anon I recovered myself, and the intellectual activity habitual to the
trained mind succeeded the coma of shock. I asked this: "When will there
be another train for the coast?" With many shrugs the landlord answered
that conditions were unsettled--as we knew; schedules were disarranged.
There might be a train to-night, to-morrow, or the day after--who could
say? Meantime he felt that it was his duty to warn us to prepare for a
visit by a joint representation of the civic and military authorities.
Rumours of the presence of spies in the employ of the Germans filled the
town. It was believed that one miscreant was even then in the place
seeking an opportunity to destroy the public buildings and the railroad
terminal with bombs or other devilish machines. Excitement was intense.
Aliens were to be put under surveillance and domiciliary search had been
ordered. It was even possible that all strangers might be arrested on
suspicion and detained for further investigation.
Arrested! Detained! His words sent a cold chill into the very marrow of
my being. Innocent of all evil intent though I was, I now recalled that
on the day before, while in mixed company, I had spoken openly--perhaps
bitterly--of the temperamental shortcomings of the French. What if my
language should be distorted, my motives misconstrued? In the present
roused and frenzied state of a proverbially excitable race the most
frightful mistakes were possible.
There was but one thing to do: I must wire our Secretary of State,
apprising him of the exact situation in Abbevilliers with particular
reference to my own plight, and strongly urging on him the advisability
of instantly ordering a fleet of American battleships to the coast of
France, there to make a demonstration in force. With me, to think has
ever been to act. I begged the landlord for pen and ink and cable blanks
and, sitting down at a convenient table, I began. However, I cannot ask
that Mr. Bryan be called to account for his failure to respond to this
particular recommendation from me, inasmuch as the cablegram was never
despatched; in fact, it was never completed, owing to a succession of
circumstances I shall next describe.
Because of an agitation that I ascribe to the intense earnestness now
dominating me I encountered some slight difficulty in framing the
message in intelligible language and a legible chirography. I had torn
up the first half-completed draft and was engaged on the opening
paragraph of the second when the clamour of a fresh altercation fell on
my ear, causing me to glance up from my task. The porter, it appeared,
had laid hands on Zeno the Great's black box, possibly with a view to
shifting it from where it lay on the floor directly in the doorway;
whereupon its owner became seized with a veritable berserk rage.
Uttering loud cries and denunciations he fell on the porter and wrested
the box from his grasp; following which the porter fled into the street,
being immediately lost from view in the distance.
Turning to me, Zeno the Great was in the midst of saying that, though
bereft of his scrapbook of clippings and his set of photographs, he
hoped to be eternally consigned to perdition--his meaning if not his
exact phraseology--if anybody got away with the even more precious
belongings yet remaining to him, when nearing sounds of hurrying feet
and many shrill voices from without caused him to break off.
In apprehension, more or less successfully concealed from casual
scrutiny, I rose to my feet. At the same instant the porter
precipitately re-entered, closely followed by six gendarmes, eight foot
soldiers, a personage in a high hat, whom I afterward ascertained to be
the mayor, and a mixed assemblage of citizens of both sexes and all
ages, amounting in the aggregate to a multitude of not inconsiderable
proportions. Agitating his arms with inconceivable activity and crying
out words of unknown purport at the top of his lungs, the porter pointed
accusingly at Zeno, at the locked box, at me!
For the moment I was left unmolested. With loud and infuriated cries the
gendarmes threw themselves on the black box. The foot soldiers hurled
themselves on Zeno the Great, precipitating him to the floor, and quite
covering him up beneath a quivering and straining mass of human forms.
The mayor tripped over a stool and fell prone. The populace gave vent to
shrill outcries. In short and in fine, I may affirm, without fear of
successful contradiction, that chaos reigned supreme.
One felt that the time had come to assert one's sovereign position as an
American citizen and, if need be, as a member of a family able to trace
its genealogy in an unbroken line to the landing of the Pilgrim Fathers
at or near Plymouth Rock, Massachusetts. I drew forth from my pocket the
small translating manual, previously described as containing English and
French sentences of similar purport arranged in parallel columns, and,
holding it in one hand, I endeavoured to advance to the centre of the
turmoil, with my free arm meantime uplifted in a gesture calling for
silence and attention; but a variety of causes coincidentally transpired
to impede seriously my efforts to be heard.
To begin with, the uproar was positively deafening in volume, and my
voice is one which in moments of declamation is inclined to verge on the
tenor. In addition to this, the complete freedom of my movements was
considerably impaired by a burly whiskered creature, in a long blouse
such as is worn in these parts by butchers and other tradespeople, who,
coming on me from behind, fixed a firm grasp in the back of my garments
at the same instant when one of his fellows possessed himself of my
umbrella and my small portmanteau.
Finally, I could not locate in the book the exact phrases I meant to
utter. Beneath my eyes, as the printed leaves fluttered back and forth,
there flashed paragraphs dealing with food, with prices of various
articles, with the state of the weather, with cab fares, with
conjectures touching on the whereabouts of imaginary relatives, with
questions and answers in regard to the arrival and departure of trains,
but nothing at all concerning unfounded suspicions directed against
private individuals; nothing at all concerning the inherent rights of
strangers travelling abroad; nothing at all concerning the procedure
presumed to obtain among civilised peoples as to the inviolate
sacredness of one's personal property from sumptuary and violent search
at the hands of unauthorised persons--in short, nothing at all that
would have the slightest bearing on, or be of the slightest value in
explaining, the present acute situation. Given a modicum of leisure for
painstaking search among the pages and a lessening of tensity in the
state of the popular excitement, I should undoubtedly have succeeded in
finding that which I sought; but such was destined not to be.
Of a sudden a chorus of exultant shrieks, louder than any of the cries
that until then had arisen, caused all and sundry to face a spot near
the door. The gendarmes had forced open the black box so highly prized
by Zeno the Great and now bared its contents to the common gaze.
Mister President, think of the result on the minds of the mob already
inflamed by stories of spies and infernal devices. The box contained six
cannon balls and a German captain's uniform!
Ah, sir, how many times since then, dreaming in my peaceful bed of the
things that immediately ensued, have I wakened to find my extremities
icy cold and my body bathed in an icy moisture! Yet, in my waking hours,
whene'er I seek mentally to reconstruct those hideous scenes I marvel
that I should preserve so confused, so inchoate a recollection of it
all, though from the picture certain episodes stand out in all their
original and terrifying vividness.
Again do I hear the maledictions of the frenzied populace; again do I
behold their menacing faces, their threatening gestures. Again, with
pitying and sympathetic eyes, do I see myself hurried through the
streets, a breathless prisoner, hatless, coatless--for my coat came away
in the hands of the whiskered wretch in the blouse--deprived through
forcible confiscation of my translating manual, by means of which I
might yet have made all clear to my accusers, and still wearing on my
sorely trampled feet the parting gift of Great-Aunt Paulina. Again am I
carried for arraignment before a mixed tribunal in a crowded room of
some large building devoted in ordinary times, I presume, to civic
purposes.
The trial scene--how clearly do I envisage that! Come with me, Your
Excellency, and look on it: Zeno the Great is there, writhing impotently
in the grasp of his captors and, at such intervals as his voice can be
heard, hoarsely importuning me to make all clear. The gendarmes are
there. The troopers are there in full panoply of lethal equipment and
carnage-dealing implements of war. The mayor is there, as before, but
has lost his high hat. Hundreds of the vociferating citizens are there.
And finally I--Roscoe T. Fibble--am there also, still preserving, I may
fondly trust, such dignity, such poise, such an air of conscious
rectitude as is possible, considering gyves on one's wrists, no covering
for one's head, and a pair of embroidered bedroom slippers on one's
feet.
The porter, with circumstantial particularity, re-enacts his attempt to
remove the damning black box and his encounter with my hapless
companion. The mayor publicly embraces him. The chief of the gendarmes
proves by actual demonstration that the German captain's uniform is a
perfect fit for Zeno the Great. The mayor kisses him on both cheeks. The
commanding officer of the military squad makes the discovery that the
six cannon balls are but thin hollow metal shells containing cavities
or recesses, into which presumably fulminating explosives might be
introduced. The mayor kisses him on both cheeks and on the forehead.
It is one's own turn; at the prospect one involuntarily shudders! One's
self is hedged about by impassioned inquisitionists. On every side one
is confronted by waving beards, condemning eyes, denouncing faces,
clenched hands and pointing fingers. From full twenty throats at once
one is beset by shrill interrogations; but, owing to the universal
rapidity of utterance and the shrillness of enunciation, one is quite
unable, in the present state of one's mind, to distinguish a single
intelligible syllable.
Lacking my translating manual to aid me in framing suitable responses, I
had resort to an expedient which at the moment seemed little short of an
inspiration, but which I have since ascertained to have been technically
an error, inasmuch as thereby I was put in the attitude of pleading
guilty to being a spy in the employ of the enemy, of being an accomplice
of Zeno the Great in nefarious plots against the lives and property of
the French people, and of having conspired with him to wreck all public
and many private edifices in the town by means of deadly agencies.
The mistake I made, Mr. President, was this: To all questions of
whatsoever nature, I answered by saying, "_Oui, oui._"
Almost instantaneously--so it seemed--I found myself transported to a
place of durance vile, deep down in the intricate confines of the
noisome cellars beneath the building where the inquisition had taken
place. There in lonely solitude did I languish; and at intervals I heard
through the thick walls, from the adjoining keep, the dismal, despairing
accents of my ill-starred fellow countryman bewailingly uplifted. True,
he had wilfully deceived me. Most certainly he told me those cannon
balls were solid iron.
Yet this was neither the time nor the place for vain recriminations;
for, indeed, all seemed lost. Doom impended--earthly destruction;
mundane annihilation! One pictured a gallows tree; and, turning from
that image, one pictured a firing squad at sunrise. I was only deterred
from committing to writing my expiring message to Mr. Bryan and the
world at large by two insurmountable considerations: One was that I had
no writing materials of whatsoever nature, and the other was that my
mental perturbation precluded all possibility of inducing a consecutive
and lucid train of thought.
Constantly there recurred to me the words of a popular yet melancholy
ballad I had once heard reproduced on a talking machine which dealt with
the tragic and untimely fate of a noble youth who, through
misapprehension and no discernible fault of his own, perished at the
hands of a drum-head court-martial in time of hostilities, the refrain
being: "The pardon came too late!"
Nevermore should I see my peaceful study at Fernbridge Seminary for
Young Ladies, with its cozy armchair, its comforting stool, or rest, for
the slippered feet, its neatly arranged tea table! Nevermore should I
spend the tranquil evening hours with Wordsworth and with Tennyson!
Nevermore should my eyes rest on my portfolio of pressed autumn leaves,
my carefully preserved wild flowers, my complete collection of the flora
of Western New Jersey!
In such despairing contemplations very many hours passed--or at least,
so I believed at the time. Eventually footsteps sounded without in the
paved corridor; the lock of my cell turned; the hinges grated; metal
clanged. Had another day dawned? Had the executioners come to lead me
forth? Nay; not so! The sickly light that streamed into my dungeon cell
was not the beaming of another sunrise but the suffused radiance of the
present afternoon; in fact, the hour was approximately one o'clock P.
M., as I learned later.
Enframed in the door opening stood the form of my gaoler, and beside him
was one of the cousins of my charge, Miss Canbee. It was the tall
brunette cousin--not the slight blonde one. I was saved! I was saved!
He--the cousin in question--had been one of the officers in charge of
the train which bore my charges away that morning. Meeting him on board
soon after discovering that I was not included among the passengers,
Miss Canbee begged him to hasten back to Abbevilliers to make search for
me. He had consented; he had returned posthaste. He knew me for what I
was, not for what, to the misguided perceptions of these excited
citizens, I seemed, in sooth, to be.
And in this same connection I wish to add that I have ever refused to
credit the malicious rumours originating among some of Miss Canbee's
seminary mates, and coming to my ears after my safe arrival at
Fernbridge, to the effect that this young gentleman was not Miss
Canbee's cousin and nowise related to her; for, as I clearly pointed out
to Miss Waddleton on the occasion when she recounted the story to me, if
he were not her cousin, how could she have known him when they met in
Paris and why should he have been willing to act on her intercessions?
He was her cousin--I reaffirm it!
He had come. He was now here. I repeat the former declaratory
exclamation--I was saved!
Mister President, the story is done. You now know all--or nearly all.
With a line I dispose of the release from custody of the writer and of
Zeno the Great, following suitable explanations carried on with the aid
of Miss Canbee's cousin. With another line--to wit, this one--I pass
over my affecting reunion that night at Calais with my eight young-lady
charges; as also the details of our return to England's friendly shores,
of our meeting with Miss Primleigh, of our immediate departure by
steamer for our own dear land, and finally of our reception at
Fernbridge, in which I was unable to participate in person by reason of
the shattered state of my nerves.
And now, sir, having placed before you the facts, with all the
determination of which I am capable I reiterate my earlier expressed
demand for condign official retribution on the heads of the persons
culpably blamable for my harrowing misadventures, whoever and wherever
those persons may be. If you feel moved, also, to take up the matter
with Mr. Bryan personally, you have my permission to do so.
Before concluding, I might add that a day or two since, as I casually
perused the editorial columns of a daily journal published at
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, I chanced on a delineation of Mr. Bryan,
depicting him in sweeping white robes, with a broad smile on his face,
and holding in one outstretched hand a brimming cup, flagon or beaker,
labelled as containing a purely nonalcoholic beverage; while on his
shoulder nestled a dove, signifying Peace. I have taken the liberty of
forwarding a copy of this communication to the artist responsible for
that pictured tribute, in order that he, too, may know our former
Secretary of State in his true light, and in the hope that he--the
artist--shall in future cease to employ his talents in extolling one who
so signally failed to give heed to one's appeals in the most critical
period of one's existence.
I remain, sir,
Your most obedient servant,
ROSCOE T. FIBBLE, D.D.
P. S.: Since penning the above, my attention has been directed to the
fact that the picture in the aforesaid Philadelphia paper was intended
for a caricature--or, as the cant phrase goes, a cartoon--its intent
being to cast gentle ridicule on the policies of the man Bryan. I have,
therefore, addressed a supplementary line to the artist, complimenting
and commending him in the highest terms. FIBBLE.
_PART THREE_
_Being a Series of Extracts Culled from the Diary of Dr. Fibble._
_Lover's Leap_
APRIL THE THIRD.--Good morning, Friend Quarto! The foregoing line, which
I have but this moment inscribed in a fair hand upon the first ruled
page immediately succeeding the flyleaf of this neat russet-clad volume,
marks the beginning of a new and--what I trust me shall prove--a
congenial enterprise. This, therefore, is in the nature of a dedication,
none the less significant because privately conducted. I am to-day
inaugurating a diary or, as some would say, a journal of my daily life.
For long I have contemplated such an undertaking, but in the press of
other matters delayed making a start, as so often one will.
Procrastination--ah, what a graceless rogue are you! But upon the eve
of yesterday, shortly before evensong, as I was passing adown the main
street of this quaint and quiet village of Lover's Leap, situate in the
western part of the state of New Jersey, I chanced to pause before the
shop of the Messrs. Bumpass Brothers, a merchandising establishment for
the purveying of stationery, sweetmeats, souvenirs and such like
commodities and much in favour among the student body of our beloved
Fernbridge Seminary for Young Ladies. In the show window, displayed in
company with other articles of varied character and description, I
beheld this book, which seemed so exactly suited and devised to my
purposes. Without delay, therefore, I entered in and from Mr. Selim
Bumpass, the younger member of this firm of tradeworthy tradesmen, I
procured it at a cost of ninety cents, and here and now I devote you,
little bookling, to your future usages.
I count this an auspicious occasion, ushering, as it does, into the
placid currents of my existence what at once shall be a new pleasure and
a new duty. Nightly when the toils of the hour are done and darkness
has drawn her curtains about the world I, seated in the cloistered
seclusion of my rooms, shall enter herein a more or less complete
summary of the principal events of the day that is done.
When this volume is quite filled up I shall purchase yet another, and
thus it shall be in the years to come that in leisure moments I may take
down from my shelves one of my accumulated store of diaries and, opening
it at random, refresh the wearied faculties with memories of bygone
events, past trials, half-forgotten triumphs, et cetera, et cetera. In
fancy I behold myself, with the light of retrospection beaming in my
eye, glancing up from the written leaf and to myself murmuring: "Fibble,
upon such a date in the long ago you did thus and so, you visited this
or that spot of interest, you had profitable converse with such and such
a person." How inspiring the prospect; how profitable may be the outcome
of the labour required!
With this brief foreword I now put you aside, little diary, meaning to
seek your company again ere the hour of retiring has arrived. So be of
good cheer and grow not impatient through the long hours, for anon I
shall return.
Ten-forty-five P. M. of even date; to wit, April the third.--True to my
promise, here I am, pen in hand and finger at brow. It augurs well that
I should have launched this undertaking upon this particular day. For
scarce had I left my study this morning when an occurrence came to pass
which I deem to have been of more than passing interest and proper,
therefore, to be set forth in some amplitude of detail. At faculty
meeting, following chapel, our principal and president, Miss Waddleton,
announced to us that a new member had been added to our little band.
Continuing in this strain, she explained that a young person, until now
a stranger to us all, had been engaged for the position of athletic
instructor made vacant by the recent and regrettable resignation of Miss
Eleanor Scuppers. With these words she presented Miss Scuppers'
successor in the person of a Miss Hildegarde Hamm. Mutual introductions
followed.
During the ceremonial I had abundant opportunity to observe this Miss
Hamm with a polite but searching scrutiny. I cannot deny that she is
rather of a personable aspect, but, in all charity and forbearance of
final judgment, I foresee she may prove a discordant factor, a
disturbing element in our little circle. I go further than that. If I
may permit myself to indulge in language verging almost upon the
indelicate, when employed with reference to the other or gentler sex,
she has about her a certain air of hoydenish and robustious buoyancy
which, I fear me, will but ill conform to the traditions of dear
Fernbridge and the soothed and refining spirit ever maintained by the
instructor body of our beloved seminary.
Subconsciously I felt wincingly the grasp of her hand as I exchanged
with her the customary salutations the while I murmured a few words of
perfunctory welcome. Her clasp was almost masculine in its firmness and
pressure--much more vehement than the one which I myself exert upon
occasions of greeting. But since I, as occupant of the chair of
astronomy and ancient and modern history, shall probably be thrown in
direct contact with our new coworker but little, I anticipate no
personal embarrassments, albeit I shall endeavour to hold her at a
distance, ever and always maintaining between us a barrier of courteous
aloofness. It is the effect upon our institution as a whole that I
regard with forebodings.
In a brief period of speech with Miss Primleigh, our mathematics
teacher, which ensued in a corridor subsequent to Miss Hamm's induction
into the faculty, I gathered that Miss Primleigh, who is of a most
discerning turn of mind, shared with me these apprehensions. Also I
gleaned from Miss Primleigh certain salient facts concerning our
youthful confrere. It would seem Miss Hamm is a person of independent
means. Being quite completely orphaned as a direct consequence of the
death of both of her immediate parents, she resides in the household of
her uncle, a Mr. Hector Hamm, who recently moved into the community from
the state of Maryland. Likewise being addicted to physical exertions in
their more ardent form, she has associated herself with us rather for
the opportunity of exercising her tastes in this direction than for the
sake of any financial honorarium or, as some would put it, remuneration
of salary. At least such was Miss Primleigh's information, she
volunteering the added statement that in her opinion Miss Hamm was a
forward piece. From the inflection of Miss Primleigh's voice at this
juncture, coupled with her manner, I am constrained to believe this term
of designation is not to be taken as implying a compliment, but, on the
contrary, the approximate reverse.
Good night, diary. I shall now retire.
* * * * *
APRIL THE SEVENTH.--A certain salubriousness was to-day manifest in the
air, indicative of the passing of winter and the on-coming of spring.
After some cogitation of the subject, I decided this morning upon
arising to doff my heavier undervestments--that is, union suitings--for
garments of less irksome weight and texture. This I did.
I recall nothing else of importance transpiring upon this date which is
worthy of being recorded, except that, in the course of a short walk
this afternoon, I came upon a half unfolded specimen of _Viola
cucullata_--or, to use the vulgar appellation, common blue
violet--pushing its way through the leafy mould and mildew of the
winter's accumulation. I made this discovery in a spinney, or copse,
near a small tarn some half mile to the eastward of Fernbridge's
precincts. I am aware that the resident populace hereabout customarily
refer to this spot as the wet woods back of Whitney's Bog, but I
infinitely prefer the English phraseology as more euphonious and at the
same time more poetic. With all due gentleness I uprooted _Viola
cucullata_ from its place in the boscage and, after it has been suitably
pressed, I mean to add it to my collection of the fauna indigenous to
the soil of Western New Jersey, not because of its rarity, for it is,
poor thing, but a common enough growth, but because of its having been
the first tender harbinger of the budding year which has come directly
to my attention. I shall botanize extensively this year. For with me to
botanize is one of the dearest of pursuits, amounting to a veritable
passion.
* * * * *
APRIL THE EIGHTH.--Blank; no entries.
* * * * *
APRIL THE NINTH.--Also blank.
* * * * *
APRIL THE TENTH.--It is illness and not a disinclination to pursue my
self-appointed task of preserving this repository of my thoughts and
deeds which for the past two days has kept me from you, friend diary. As
a consequence of venturing abroad upon the seventh instant without my
heavy undergarments and likewise without galoshes, having been deceived
into committing these indiscretions by a false and treacherous mildness
of atmospheric conditions leading to the assumption that the vernal
season had come or was impending--a circumstance already described some
paragraphs back--I found myself upon the morn following to be the victim
of a severe cold, complicated with quinsy or sore throat. I have ever
since been confined to my room, if not to my couch, in an acutely
indisposed state, endeavouring to rid myself of these impairments by
recourse to a great variety of panaceas applied both internally and
otherwise. Not until the present moment have I felt qualified, either
mentally or bodily, to address myself to the labour of literary
composition. Indeed, what with trying this vaunted cure or that--now a
gargle, now a foot bath in water heated well nigh to boiling, now a hot
lemonade, and again a bolus, a lotion or a liniment--I have had no time
for writing, even if so inclined.
I am struck by the interesting fact that when one is ill of a cold
practically every one with whom one comes in contact has a favourite
suggestion for relieving one of one's symptoms. Scarce a member of the
faculty these two days but has prescribed this or that thing, each in
turn extolling the virtues of her own remedy and at the same time
vigorously decrying the merits of all others whatsoever. To avoid
showing favouritism and to guard against giving offence in any quarter,
for such is my nature, I have faithfully endeavoured to accept the
advice and obey the injunction of each and every well wisher, with one
exception. I shall refer to that exception in another moment.
To-night I am greatly improved, although weakened. In fact, I should
almost entirely be my former self were it not for a blistered condition
of the throat, a pronounced tenderness of the feet, and an inflamed area
of the cutaneous covering of the bosom--the first due, I think, to
swallowing an overhot lemonade, the second to the constancy with which I
resorted to foot bathing, while the third indubitably may be ascribed to
the after effects of an oil of great potency and pronounced odour which
Miss Waddleton with her own hands bestowed upon me and with which I
anointed that particular portion of my anatomy at half-hourly intervals.
To-night these quarters are quite oppressively redolent of the
commingled scents of drugs, unguents and ointments. But in view of the
sharpness of the evening I shall for the time forbear to air my
chambers. Nor, as I do now most solemnly pledge myself, shall I again
venture forth unless suitably fortified and safeguarded against the
uncertainties of our northern climate, until the springtime is well
advanced and a reasonable continuation of balmy conditions is assured.
The exception to which I referred in a preceding paragraph was none
other than Miss Hamm, the newest member of our faculty. Actuated, I
hope, by kindly motives, she called this afternoon, finding me in
dressing gown and slippers, prone upon the couch in my study, at my side
a table laden with bottles and in my hand an atomiser, with which at
every convenient pause in the conversation I assiduously sprayed the
more remote recesses of the throat and the nose. Upon entering she was
good enough to enquire regarding my progress toward recovery and I,
replying, launched upon a somewhat lengthy description of the nature of
the malady, meaning in time to come to an enumeration of the various
succeeding stages of convalescence. In the midst of this she cut me
short with the brusque and abrupt remark that if I threw all the
medicines out of the window and put on my things and went for a long
walk I should feel a lot better in less than no time at all--such
substantially being her language as I recall it.
Between inhalations of the fluid contents of the atomiser I replied,
stating in effect that the fact of my having taken a walk was
responsible in no small measure for my present depleted state. Naturally
I made no mention of a certain contributory factor--namely, the unwise
and hasty step taken by me with regard to undergarments. I went on to
say that in no event, even though so inclined--a thing in itself
inconceivable--would I harbour the impulse to cast from my casements the
accumulation of vials, pill boxes, et cetera, with which I had been
provided by my friends, since inevitably the result would be to litter
the lawn without, thereby detracting from the kempt and seemly aspect of
our beloved institution, of which we who have learned to venerate and
cherish Fernbridge Seminary are justly so proud. Upon this point I spoke
with especial firmness. Perhaps it was the manner of my administering
this gentle but deserved rebuke--or possibly the words in which I
couched my chidings--at any rate she endeavoured to conceal the
discomfiture she must have felt beneath an outburst of laughter ere she
withdrew, leaving me to welcome solitude and my throat douche.
How different was the attitude of Miss Primleigh when she came to offer
her ministrations--all sympathy, all understanding, all solicitude! It
is to Miss Primleigh that I stand at this hour indebted for the loan of
the atomiser. She assures me that she has ever found it most
efficacious, and I, too, have found it so, although I admit the use of
it tends to produce a tickling sensation to membranes already made
sensitive by other applications.
* * * * *
APRIL THE ELEVENTH.--Am entirely restored to normal well being except
for a stoppage of the upper nasal region which at times proves
annoying--I might even say vexatious. The inflammation of the throat
having subsided, I derived much comfort this afternoon from imbibing
tea; being the first time, in the scope of half a week, when tea has
had its proper zest and flavour.
* * * * *
APRIL THE TWELFTH.--Returned to classroom duties, taking up, in the
history course, the life and works of Marcus Aurelius, a character for
whom I have ever entertained the liveliest sentiments of regard and
respect, for did he not, in an age of licentiousness and loose living,
deport himself with such rectitude as to entitle him to the encomiums
and the plaudits of all right-thinking persons forever thereafter?
Otherwise, nothing noteworthy upon this day and date.
* * * * *
APRIL THE THIRTEENTH.--I went abroad to-day for the first time since my
recent indisposition, taking the precaution first to well muffle myself
as to throat, wrists and pedal extremities. For my associate in the
pleasures of pedestrianism I had Miss Primleigh, from whose company I
have ever derived a certain calm and philosophic enjoyment. In a way,
one might say Miss Primleigh is almost purely intellect. The qualities
of her mind shine forth, as it were, through her earthly tenement;
rendering her in truth a most admirable companion.
In the progress of our peregrinations over hill and vale, I gathered
several desirable specimens for my botanical collection. Miss Primleigh,
whose turn of thought even in her lighter moments is essentially
mathematical, as befitting one of her chosen calling in life, spent some
time pleasantly, and I dare say profitably, in calculating by mental
arithmetic the number of cubic yards of earth in the hillock known as
Potts' Ridge. A delightful and congenial outing was jointly shared.
Sauntering slowly along, we had wended our meandering course homeward,
or perhaps I should say schoolward, and had reached a small byway, known
locally as Locust Lane, when there came to our ears a sound of joyous
voices and a clattering of nimble hoofs mingling together. Almost
instantly a merry cavalcade swept into view round a turn in the path. It
was composed of a number, perhaps six in all, of our young lady
students, taking a lesson in horseback riding under the tutelage of
Miss Hamm, the young person previously mentioned in these chronicles.
She--I speak now with reference to Miss Hamm--led the procession,
mounted upon a mettlesome steed and attired in a costume including a
short coat, boots, and bifurcated garments of a close-fitting nature.
Her hair, beneath a stiff hat such as I myself customarily wear, was
braided in heavy coils. As might be expected, she rode, as the saying
goes, astride, evincing great adeptness for this form of exercise, which
has been described to me as being healthful in the extreme, although I
should denominate it as bordering upon the dangerous, unless the equine
one chose for one's use was more docile than so frequently appears to be
the case.
As the party dashed by us with appropriate salutations, to which I
replied in kind, I was suddenly impressed by a grace of movement--or
shall I call it a jaunty abandon?--in Miss Hamm's bearing, aspect and
general demeanour. To the casual eye the effect of this was far from
being displeasing. I was about to venture as much to Miss Primleigh and
had, in fact, cleared my throat as a preliminary to making the
statement, when she broke in, speaking in a tone of severity. I quote
her:
"You needn't say it, Doctor Fibble--I know exactly how you feel, before
you speak a word. And I agree with you perfectly in all that you think.
Didn't I tell you that creature was a forward piece? Did you see how the
little minx was dressed? Did you see how she carried herself? If we both
live to be a thousand years old you'll never catch me wearing such
clothes!"
I nodded in a noncommittal fashion, not caring at the moment to take
issue with Miss Primleigh. Arguments I detest. If she chose to
misinterpret my sentiments, so be it then. I shall, however, add here
that while my own opinion of the matter was not absolutely in accord
with the burden of Miss Primleigh's criticisms, there was one point
brought out by her in her remarks upon which I could not conscientiously
take issue with her. To paraphrase her own words, I believe I should not
care ever to catch Miss Primleigh costumed as Miss Hamm was. In
confidence I may confide to my diary that I do not believe the former
would appear to the best advantage in such habiliments as I have briefly
touched upon, she being of a somewhat angular physical conformation,
although not until now do I recall having been cognisant of this fact.
To-night, sitting here, the picture of Miss Hamm upon horseback persists
in the retina of my brain as a far from unseemly vision. One is moved to
wonder that a circumstance so trivial should linger in one's mind. How
truly has it been said that the vagaries of the human imagination are
past divining.
* * * * *
APRIL THE SEVENTEENTH.--Shortly after three P. M. of this day, following
the dismissal of my class in astronomy, I accidentally stepped into the
gymnasium hall. I cannot account for so doing, unless it be upon the
ground that my thoughts still dwelt upon those heavenly bodies with
whose wonders I had for hours been concerned to the exclusion of all
other considerations of whatsoever nature. In this state of
absent-mindedness I discovered myself standing outside the door of the
large room devoted to the physical exercises. My hand, obeying a
mechanical impulse, turned the knob; pausing upon the threshold I beheld
the spectacle of Miss Hamm, directing a group of our juniors in
dumb-bell manipulation, all present--instructor and students
alike--being costumed in the prescribed uniform of loose blouses and
those garments technically known, I believe, as bloomers.
The sight of so many young persons, their faces intent, their minds
engrossed with each succeeding evolution of gesticulation, their bodies
swaying in unison, was an agreeable one. Entirely in a subconscious way
I observed that Miss Hamm's hair was not plaited up and confined to the
head with ribands, pins or other appliances in vogue among her sex, but
depended in loose and luxuriant masses about her face; I remarked its
colour--a chestnut brown--and a tendency upon its part to form into
ringlets when unconfined, the resultant effect being somewhat
attractive. At the moment of my entrance her side face was presented to
me; a piquant and comely profile I should term it, without professing in
the least to have judgment in such matters.
Presently discovering that an intruder had appeared upon the scene, she
paused in her work of directing her class and, turning toward me,
inquired whether there was anything I desired. Having no excuse to
account for my presence, I stated that I had mistaken the door and,
briefly begging her pardon for having interrupted her, I withdrew. Later
I found myself striving with a vague and unaccountable desire to return
and witness more of the dumb-bell evolutions.
* * * * *
APRIL THE EIGHTEENTH.--A strange lassitude besets me. I first discerned
it this forenoon soon after the burden of the school day was taken up. A
marked disinclination for the prescribed routine of classroom and study
hall appears to be one of its most pronounced manifestations. I am
strangely distraught; preoccupied with truant and wandering thoughts
having no bearing upon the task in hand.
Seeking to throw off these distractions, I quite casually dropped into
the gymnasium. It was empty. Upon finding it so, a small sense of
disappointment beset me. I then went for a walk, trusting to the soft
and gentle influences of out-of-doors to dispel the meaningless
vapourings which beset my consciousness. My wandering feet automatically
carried me to Locust Lane, where for some time I lingered in idleness.
The class in horseback riding did not pass, as once before. Presumably
our young equestriennes, if abroad, had taken some other direction. In
pensive thought not untinctured with a fleeting depression, I returned
at dusk, hoping with books to cure myself of the bewilderments of this
day.
An hour agone I took up a volume of Tasso. Than Tasso in the original
Latin, I know of no writer whose works are better fitted for perusal
during an hour of relaxation. But Tasso was dull to-night. The printed
page was before my eyes, but my thoughts sped off in tangents to dwell
upon the birds, the trees, the flowers. The thought of flowers
suggested my botanical collection and to it I turned. But it, too, had
lost its zest.
It must be that this mental preoccupation has a physical side. Beyond
peradventure the lassitude of spring is upon me. I shall take a tonic
compounded according to a formula popular for many generations in my
family and much favoured by my sole surviving relative, Great-Aunt
Paulina, now residing at an advanced age, but with faculties unimpaired,
in the city of Hartford, Connecticut. Haply I have a bottle of this
sovereign concoction by me, Great-Aunt Paulina having sent it by parcel
post no longer ago than last week. I shall take it as designated by her
in the letter accompanying the timely gift--a large dessert-spoonful
three times daily before meals.
* * * * *
APRIL THE TWENTY-FIRST.--Have been taking my tonic regularly but
apparently without deriving beneficial results. Its especial purpose is
for the thinning of the blood. Assuredly though, if my blood has been
appreciably thinned my mental attitude remains unchanged. Perversely I
continue to be the subject of contradictory and conflicting moods
impossible to understand and difficult to describe. Certainly I have
never been in this state before. Query: Can it be I am upon the verge of
a serious disorder? Temporary exaltation succeeds melancholy, and vice
versa. On two separate occasions to-day I was aware of this
phenomenon--a passing sense of exuberance and cheerfulness, shortly
afterward followed by a morbid and gloom-tinged longing for I know not
what.
This serves to remind me that twice to-day I had conversations of brief
duration with Miss Hamm. The first meeting was by chance, we merely
exchanging commonplaces touching upon our respective fields of activity
here at Fernbridge; but the second eventuated through deliberate intent
on my part. With premeditation I put myself in her path. My motive for
so doing was, I trust, based upon unselfishness entirely. I had formed
an early and perhaps a hasty estimate of this young woman's nature. I
wished either to convince myself absolutely upon these points or to
disabuse my mind of all prejudice.
I am glad I took this step. For I am constrained now to admit that my
first impression of Miss Hamm's personality may have done her an
injustice. With what care should one guard oneself against o'erready
appraisals of the characters of one's fellow beings!
It is not to be gainsaid that Miss Hamm lends to our institution a
picturesqueness of outward aspect as well as a light-heartedness and a
buoyancy of viewpoint which heretofore has been quite utterly lacking
among our instructor corps. Despite a pronounced tendency betrayed by
her to give to serious subjects a perplexingly light and roguish twist,
an inclination, as it were, to make chaff, to banter, to indulge in idle
whimsicalities, I think I discern in her indubitable qualities of mind
which, properly guided and directed by some older person having her best
interests at heart, may be productive in time of development and
expansion into higher realms of thought.
I feel within me a desire to assist in the blossoming forth of what I
plainly discover to be this young person's real self. I shall not count
as wasted the hours I may devote to this altruistic and disinterested
endeavour. My payment shall be the consciousness of a duty well
performed--that and nothing more. Indeed, at this moment, as I indite
this pledge, speculation as to its outcome engenders in me an uplifting
of the spirit which bodes well for the future fruitage of my ambition.
In such mood was I when, shortly having quitted the company of Miss
Hamm, I met Miss Primleigh. She suggested another excursion into the
wildwood. Upon plea of a slight indisposition, but without explaining
its symptoms, I excused myself and continued upon my way. I felt that I
should prefer for the nonce to be alone. I shall ever value my
friendship with Miss Primleigh as a great privilege, for in truth she is
one of deep culture and profound mental attainments, but during the last
few days I have several times detected myself in the act of wishing that
she were not quite so statistical in her point of view and that her
thoughts upon occasion might take a lighter trend than she evinces. I
have even found myself desiring that to the eye she might present a
plumper aspect, so to speak. For, in all charity, it is not to be denied
that Miss Primleigh is what the world is pleased to call
angular--painfully angular, I am afraid. Only to-day I noticed that her
feet were large, or at least the shoes she wore lent a suggestion as of
largeness. One owes it to oneself to make the best of one's personal
appearance; this reflection came to me as I was turning away from Miss
Primleigh. Possibly it is because she has failed to do so that I have
found her company, in a measure, palling upon me here of late. Or can it
be that spiritually I am outgrowing Miss Primleigh? I know not. I do but
state the actual fact. Yet always I shall esteem her most highly.
To-night a sense of loneliness, a desire for the companionship of my
kind, assails me. I can only opine that my blood is not thinning with
the desired celerity. Beginning to-morrow I shall take a large
tablespoonful of the tonic before meals instead of a dessert-spoonful.
A telephone was to-day installed in my study. Heretofore Fernbridge has
been connected with the outer world only by a single telephone placed in
the reception hall of our main building, but now, by Miss Waddleton's
direction, each member of the faculty will hereafter enjoy the use of a
separate instrument. Thus, without the surrender of any of its
traditions, does Fernbridge keep abreast of the movements of this
workaday world.