PUNCH,
OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOL. 100.
May 16, 1891.
MR. PUNCH'S PRIZE NOVELS.
NO. XVII.--GASPS.
(_BY_ OLPH SCHREION, _AUTHOR OF "SCREAMS," "THE ALLEGORY OF AN ASIAN
RANCHE._")
["You will perceive," writes the Author of the following
story, "that this is allegorical, but it is not by any means
necessary that you should understand it. The chief charm of
allegorical writing is its absolute freedom from the trammels
of convention. You write something large and vague, with any
amount of symbols thrown in. The words flow quite easily;
you cover scores of pages. Then you read it over again next
morning. If you understand it so little as to think some other
fellow must have written it, you may be quite certain it is
an allegory. When you print it, your public reads into it
all kinds of mysterious and morbid religious emotions, and
confused misinterpretations of life-problems, and everybody
tacks on his own special explanation. That being so, it is
quite unnecessary for you to explain things--which saves
a great deal of trouble. The plan is an excellent one. Try
it.--Yours, allegorically, O.S."]
CHAPTER I.
TANT' SANNIE was stewing _kraut_ in the old Dutch saucepan. The
scorching rays of the African sun were beating down upon BONAPARTE
BLENKINS who was doing his best to be sun-like by beating WALDO.
His nose was red and disagreeable. He was something like HUCKLEBERRY
FINN's Dauphin, an amusing, callous, cruel rogue, but less
resourceful. TANT' SANNIE laughed; it was so pleasant to see a German
boy beaten black and blue. But the Hottentot servants merely gaped. It
was their custom.
[Illustration]
But in the middle distance Life was playing marbles with the Unknown.
And the Unknown said unto Life, "Give me an alley-tor." But Life
replied, "Nay, for the commoneys are lying well, and the thumb of
him that aimeth is seasoned unto the stroke." And the Unknown beat
his sable wings together, and one black feather flitted far into the
breast of the day and fell to earth. And there came a fair-haired
Child plucking flowers in the desert with brows bent in thought.
And Life said unto the Child, "Play with me."
And the Unknown said, "Play with me."
But the Child raised its soft hand slowly and the tender fingers grew
apart, and its thumb was poised in thought upon its nose, and it spake
not at all. And the feather flitted far, far over the waste, and men
came forth and gazed upon it, but it heeded them not.
Then said Life, "I am strong. Kings have need of me and earth is
my dominion." But the Unknown gathered up the scattered marbles,
concealing them gently, and answered only this--"I am a greater than
Life."
And the Child strayed onwards and the feather flitted, and TANT'
SANNIE still stewed _kraut_ in the old Dutch saucepan. And BONAPARTE
BLENKINS was glad.