I have often wished I were an expert at something. How I envy the man who,
before ordering a suit of clothes from his tailor, seizes the proffered
sample of cloth and tugs at it in a knowledgable manner, smells it at close
quarters with deep inhalations and finally, if he is very brave, pulls out
a thread and ignites it with a match. Whereupon the tailor, abashed and
discomfited, produces for the lucky expert from the interior of his
premises that choice bale of pre-war quality which he was keeping for his
own use.
I confided this yearning of mine to Rottenbury the other evening.
Rottenbury is a man of the world and might, I thought, be able to help me.
"My dear fellow," he said, "in these days of specialisation one has to be
brought up in the business to be an expert in anything, whether cloth or
canaries or bathroom tiling. Knowledge of this kind is not gained in a
moment."
"Can you help me?" I asked.
"As regards tea, I can," he replied. "Jorkins over there is in the tea
business. If you like I'll get him to put you up to the tricks of
tea-tasting."
"I should be awfully glad if you would," said I. "We never get any decent
tea at home."
Jorkins appeared to be a man of direct and efficient character. I saw
Rottenbury speak to him and the next moment he was at my elbow.
"Watch me carefully," said Jorkins, "and listen to what I say. Take a
little leaf into the palm of your left hand. Rub it lightly with the
fingers and gaze earnestly thus. Apply your nose and snuff up strongly.
Pick out a strand and bite through the leaf slowly with the front teeth,
thus. Just after biting pass the tip of the tongue behind the front teeth
and along the palate, completing the act of deglutition. Sorry I must go
now. Good day."
Now I felt I was on the right track. I practised the thing a few times
before a glass, paying special attention to the far-away poetical look
which Jorkins wore during the operation.
At the tea-shop the man behind the counter willingly showed me numbers of
teas. I snatched a handful of that which he specially recommended and began
the ceremony. I took a little into the palm of my left-hand and gazed at it
earnestly; I rubbed it lightly with my fingers; I picked up a strand and
bit through the leaf slowly with the front teeth. Just after biting I
passed the tongue behind the front teeth and along the palate, completing
the act of deglutition.
So far as I could judge it was very good tea, but it would never do to
accept the first sample offered; I must let the shopman see that he was up
against one of the mandarins of the trade. So I said with severity, "Please
don't show me any more common stuff; I want the best you have."
The man looked at me curiously and I saw his face twitching; he was
evidently about to speak.
"Kindly refrain from expostulating," I went on; "content yourself with
showing me your finest blend."
He went away to the back of the shop, muttering; clearly he recognised
defeat, for when he returned he carried a small chest.
"Try this," said he, and I knew that he was boiling with baffled rage.
I took a handful and once more went through the whole ceremony. It was
nauseating, but the man was obviously impressed. At the conclusion of my
performance I assumed a look of satisfaction. "Give me five pounds of
that," said I with the air of a conqueror.
Next time I met Rottenbury I told him of my success.
"Oh, Jorkins put you up to the trick, did he?"
"He did. He taught me to titillate, to triturate, to masticate, to
deglute--everything."
"And with what result?"
"With the result that I have in my possession five pounds of the finest tea
that the greatest experts have blended from the combined products of Assam
and China."
"Tea?" he asked.
"Yes, tea of course. You didn't suppose that I was talking of oysters?"
"Did I tell you Jorkins was a tea-taster?"
"Yes."
"Well, then, he's not. He's in tobacco."
* * * * *
"Alured," said my wife, "I wish you wouldn't buy things for the house. That
tea is low-grade sweepings."
* * * * *
[Illustration: LE GRAND PENSEUR.
(_With apologies to the late AUGUSTE RODIN._)
ADVERTISING ENTHUSIAST ON HIS HOLIDAY SEEKING INSPIRATION FOR A NEW
ADVERTISEMENT FOR THE UNDERGROUND RAILWAY.]
* * * * *
"Sir Otto Beit has returned to London from South Africa, where he
turned the first sot of the new university."--_Daily Paper._
Turned him out, we trust.
* * * * *
"In a brilliant peroration the Prime Minister warned his hearers that a
nation was known by its soul and not by its asses."--_South African
Paper._
Yet some of our politicians seem to think that England is not past braying
for.
* * * * *
"The doings (or rather sayings!) in the Legislature we are watching
with sympathy and some impatience, much as a bachelor bears with the
gambling of children who come to the drawing-room for an hour before
dinner."--_Weekly Paper._
And the worst of it is that the Legislature is gambling with _our_ money.
* * * * *
"Miss ----, director of natural science studies at Newnham College,
Oxford, will preside."--_Daily Paper._
We are glad to hear of this new women's college at Oxford, but surely they
might have chosen a more original name for it.
* * * * *
A.G.J. writes: "Your picture of 'Come unto these Yellow Sands' in the
number for August 4th explains for the first time the obscure following
line, 'The Wild Waves Whist.'"
* * * * *
[Illustration: "I HAVE NOT SEEN YOU AT CHURCH FOR TWO SUNDAYS, JOHN."
"NO, SIR. NO OFFENCE T'YOU, BUT OI A-BIN DOIN' T' CHAPEL PASSON'S GARDEN,
SO MISSUS THOUGHT WE'D BETTER GIVE 'IM A TURN."]
* * * * *