If F were a young man instead of an elderly woman I could understand
this aberration better.
_September 25_: It seems Mrs H's grandchildren are all girls between
twelve and eighteen, which leaves the problem of fulfilling F's
ultimatum to finding fortyseven others. I have delegated the selection
to Mrs H.
_September 26_: Grass on Skye for the second time. This invasion was not
repulsed.
_September 27_: The cyclone fans have been set up from Moray Firth to
the Firth of Lorne. I am in two minds about asking the Tharios to join
us.
The bill authorizing the construction of a vertical city at Stonehenge
passed Commons.
_September 28_: Grass reported near Aberdeen. Panic in Scotland. No more
train service.
_September 29_: Day of fasting, humiliation and prayer proclaimed by the
Archbishop of Canterbury. Grass south of the Dee. All mines shut down.
_September 30_: Every seaworthy vessel, and many not seaworthy, now
under charter. I have ordered all remaining stores of concentrates
loaded on our own hulls, to be manned by skeleton crews. They will stand
by the _Sisyphus_ on her voyage. Lack of railway transportation making
things difficult.
_October 1_: They have actually broken ground at Stonehenge for Burlet's
fantastic city.
_October 2_: Wrote on my book for nearly twelve solid hours. The postal
service has been stopped.
_October 3_: Hearing the royal family had made no plans for departure,
the London office ventured to offer them accommodations on one of our
ships. I had always heard the House of Windsor was meticulous in its
politeness, but I cannot characterize their rejection of our wellmeant
aid as anything but rude.
_October 4_: Mrs H asks, Are we to live solely on concentrates now the
shops are shut? My query as to whether this seemed objectionable to her
was evaded.
_October 5_: Grass in Inverness and Perthshire.
_October 6_: F announces she is ready for another test. Under present
conditions, the journey to Scotland being out of the question, we
decided to use the _Sisyphus_ again and the French coast. Leaving
tomorrow.
_October 11_: This constant series of frustrations is beyond endurance.
In spite of F's noncommittal pessimism anticipating success only after
the Grass has covered England, I feel she is merely making some sort of
propitiatory gesture when she looks on the darkest side of the picture
that way. As for myself I'm convinced the Grass will be stopped in a
week or so. But in the meantime F's work advances by the inch, only to
be set back again and again.
We repeated the previous test with just enough added success to give our
failure the quality of supreme exasperation. This time there was no
question but what the growth sprayed actually withered within twentyfour
hours. But it was not wiped out and not long afterward it was overrun
and covered up by a new and vigorous mass. Such a victory early in the
fight would have meant something; now it is too late for such piecemeal
destruction. We must have a counteragent which communicates its lethal
effect to a larger area of the Grass than is actually touched by it--or
at very least makes the affected spot untenable for future growth.
What help is it for F to rub her hands smugly and say, "We're on the
right track, all right"? Weve been on the right track for months, but
the train doesnt get anywhere.
_October 12_: Columbus Day.
_October 13_: Grass in Fife and Stirling. BBC urges calm.
_October 14_: Rumor has it work abandoned at Stonehenge. It was a
futile gesture anyway. I'm sure F will perfect the counteragent anyday.
_October 15_: Mrs H announced she has completed her selection of fifty
young women, adding, "I hope they will prove satisfactory, sir." For a
horrible moment I wondered if she thought I was arranging for a harem.
_October 16_: Decided, purely as a matter of convenience and not from
panic, such as is beginning to affect even the traditionally stolid
British, to move aboard the _Sisyphus_. Grass on the outskirts of
Edinburgh.
_October 17_: In a burst of energy last night I brought my history down
to the Grass in Europe.
Disconcerting hitch. Most of the _Sisyphus'_ crew, including the
captain, want to take their wives along. I find it difficult to believe
them all uxoriously wed--at any rate this is not a pleasure excursion.
Agreed the captain should take his and told him to effect some
compromise on the others. The capacity of the _Sisyphus_ is not elastic.
_October 18_: Grass almost to the Tweed. PM on the wireless with the
assurance a counteragent will be perfected within the week. F furious;
wanted to know if I couldnt control my politicians better. I answered
meekly--really, her anger was ludicrous--that I was an American citizen,
not part of the British electorate, and therefore had no influence over
the prime minister of Great Britain. Seriously, however, perhaps the
premature announcement will spur her on.
The erratic phone service finally stopped altogether.
_October 19_: Riots and looting--unEnglish manifestations carried out in
a very English way. Hysterical orators called for the destruction of all
foreign refugees from the Grass, or at very least their exclusion from
the benefits of the lootings. In every case the mob answered them in
almost identical language: "Fair play," "Share and share alike," "Yer
nyme Itler, maybe?" "Come orf it, sonny, oo er yew? Gord Orlmighty's
furriner, aint E?" Having heckled the speakers, they proceeded
cheerfully to clean out all stocks of available goods--the refugees
getting their just shares. There must be a peculiar salubrity about the
English air. Otherwise Britons could not act so differently at home and
abroad.
Thankful indeed all Consolidated Pemmican stores safely loaded.
_October 20_: As anticipated, the Grass crossed the Tweed into
Northumberland, but quite unexpectedly England has also been invaded
from another quarter. Norfolk has the Grass from Yarmouth to Cromer. F,
the PM, and myself hanged in effigy. Shall not tarry much longer.
_October 21_: Durham and Suffolk. Consulted the captain about a set of
auxiliary sails for the _Sisyphus_. Moving aboard tonight.
_October 22_: Heard indirectly that the Tharios had managed to charter a
seagoing tug on shares with friends. This takes a great load off my
mind.
Postponed moving to the ship in order to superintend packing of personal
possessions, including the manuscript of my history. F says it is still
not impossible to perfect compound before the Grass reaches London.
_October 23_: On board the _Sisyphus_. What has become of the stolid
heroism of the English people? On the way down to the ship, I ran into a
crowd no better behaved than the adherents of the Republic One and
Indivisible. I mention the episode lightly, but it was no laughing
matter. I was lucky to escape with my life.
Nervous and upset with the strain. I shall not return to The Ivies till
the Grass begins its retreat. Too restless to continue my book. Paced
the deck a long time.
_October 24_: The fifty girls arrived, and a more maddening cargo I
can't imagine. I gave orders to keep them forward, but their shrill
presence nevertheless penetrates aft.