the poet at the breakfast table-第14章
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he is good…looking； rosy； well…dressed； and of very polite manners；
only a little more brisk than the approved style of carriage permits；
as one in the habit of springing with a certain alacrity at the call
of a customer。
You would like to see； I don't doubt； how we sit at the table； and I
will help you by means of a diagram which shows the present
arrangement of our seats。
4 3 2 1 14 13
…
｜ O O O O O O ｜
｜ ｜
5 ｜ O Breakfast…Table O ｜12
｜ ｜
｜ O O O O O O ｜
…
6 7 8 9 10 11
1。 The Poet。
2。 The Master Of Arts。
3。 The Young Girl （Scheherezade）。
4。 The Lady。
5。 The Landlady。
6。 Dr。 B。 Franklin。
7。 That Boy。
8。 The Astronomer。
9。 The Member of the Haouse。
10。 The Register of Deeds。
11。 The Salesman。
12。 The Capitalist。
13。 The Man of Letters（？）。
14。 The Scarabee。
Our young Scheherezade varies her prose stories now and then； as I
told you； with compositions in verse； one or two of which she has let
me look over。 Here is one of them； which she allowed me to copy。 It
is from a story of hers； 〃The Sun…Worshipper's Daughter；〃 which you
may find in the periodical before mentioned； to which she is a
contributor； if your can lay your hand upon a file of it。 I think
our Scheherezade has never had a lover in human shape； or she would
not play so lightly with the firebrands of the great passion。
FANTASIA。
Kiss mine eyelids； beauteous Morn；
Blushing into life new…born！
Lend me violets for my hair；
And thy russet robe to wear；
And thy ring of rosiest hue
Set in drops of diamond dew！
Kiss my cheek； thou noontide ray；
》From my Love so far away！
Let thy splendor streaming down
Turn its pallid lilies brown；
Till its darkening shades reveal
Where his passion pressed its seal！
Kiss my lips； thou Lord of light；
Kiss my lips a soft good night！
Westward sinks thy golden car；
Leave me but the evening star；
And my solace that shall be；
Borrowing all its light from thee！
III
The old Master was talking about a concert he had been to hear。
I don't like your chopped music anyway。 That womanshe had more
sense in her little finger than forty medical societiesFlorence
Nightingalesays that the music you pour out is good for sick folks；
and the music you pound out isn't。 Not that exactly； but something
like it。 I have been to hear some music…pounding。 It was a young
woman； with as many white muslin flounces round her as the planet
Saturn has rings； that did it。 Shegave the music…stool a twirl or
two and fluffed down on to it like a whirl of soap…suds in a hand…
basin。 Then she pushed up her cuffs as if she was going to fight for
the champion's belt。 Then she worked her wrists and her hands； to
limber 'em； I suppose； and spread out her fingers till they looked as
though they would pretty much cover the key…board； from the growling
end to the little squeaky one。 Then those two hands of hers made a
jump at the keys as if they were a couple of tigers coming down on a
flock of black and white sheep； and the piano gave a great howl as if
its tail had been trod on。 Dead stop；so still you could hear your
hair growing。 Then another jump； and another howl； as if the piano
had two tails and you had trod on both of 'em at once； and； then a
grand clatter and scramble and string of jumps； up and down； back and
forward； one hand over the other； like a stampede of rats and mice
more than like anything I call music。 I like to hear a woman sing；
and I like to hear a fiddle sing； but these noises they hammer out of
their wood and ivory anvilsdon't talk to me； I know the difference
between a bullfrog and a woodthrush and
Pop！ went a small piece of artillery such as is made of a stick of
elder and carries a pellet of very moderate consistency。 That Boy
was in his seat and looking demure enough； but there could be no
question that he was the artillery…man who had discharged the
missile。 The aim was not a bad one； for it took the Master full in
the forehead； and had the effect of checking the flow of his
eloquence。 How the little monkey had learned to time his
interruptions I do not know； but I have observed more than once
before this； that the popgun would go off just at the moment when
some one of the company was getting too energetic or prolix。 The Boy
isn't old enough to judge for himself when to intervene to change the
order of conversation； no； of course he isn't。 Somebody must give
him a hint。 Somebody。 Who is it？ I suspect Dr。 B。 Franklin。 He
looks too knowing。 There is certainly a trick somewhere。 Why； a day
or two ago I was myself discoursing； with considerable effect； as I
thought； on some of the new aspects of humanity； when I was struck
full on the cheek by one of these little pellets； and there was such
a confounded laugh that I had to wind up and leave off with a
preposition instead of a good mouthful of polysyllables。 I have
watched our young Doctor； however； and have been entirely unable to
detect any signs of communication between him and this audacious
child； who is like to become a power among us； for that popgun is
fatal to any talker who is hit by its pellet。 I have suspected a
foot under the table as the prompter； but I have been unable to
detect the slightest movement or look as if he were making one； on
the part of Dr。 Benjamin Franklin。 I cannot help thinking of the
flappers in Swift's Laputa； only they gave one a hint when to speak
and another a hint to listen； whereas the popgun says unmistakably；
〃Shut up！〃
I should be sorry to lose my confidence in Dr。 B。 Franklin； who
seems very much devoted to his business； and whom I mean to consult
about some small symptoms I have had lately。 Perhaps it is coming to
a new boarding…house。 The young people who come into Paris from the
provinces are very aptso I have been told by one that knowsto
have an attack of typhoid fever a few weeks or months after their
arrival。 I have not been long enough at this table to get well
acclimated； perhaps that is it。 Boarding…House Fever。 Something
like horse…ail； very likely；horses get it； you know； when they are
brought to city stables。 A little 〃off my feed；〃 as Hiram Woodruff
would say。 A queer discoloration about my forehead。 Query； a bump？
Cannot remember any。 Might have got it against bedpost or something
while asleep。 Very unpleasant to look so。 I wonder how my portrait
would look； if anybody should take it now！ I hope not quite so badly
as one I saw the other day； which I took for the end man of the
Ethiopian Serenaders； or some traveller who had been exploring the
sources of the Niger； until I read the name at the bottom and found
it was a face I knew as well as my own。
I must consult somebody； and it is nothing more than fair to give our
young Doctor a chance。 Here goes for Dr。 Benjamin Franklin。
The young Doctor has a very small office and a very large sign； with
a transparency at night big enough for an oyster…shop。 These young
doctors are particularly strong； as I understand； on what they call
diagnosis；an excellent branch of the healing art； full of
satisfaction to the curious practitioner； who likes to give the right
Latin name to one's complaint； not quite so satisfactory to the
patient； as it is not so very much pleasanter to be bitten by a dog
with a collar round his neck telling you that he is called Snap or
Teaser； than by a dog without a collar。 Sometimes； in fact； one
would a little rather not know the exact name of his complaint； as if
he does he is pretty sure to look it out in a medical dictionary； and
then if he reads； This terrible disease is attended with vast
suffering and is inevitably mortal； or any such statement； it is apt
to affect him unpleasantly。
I confess to a little shakiness when I knocked at Dr。 Benjamin's
office door。 〃Come in！〃 exclaimed Dr。 B。 F。 in tones that sounded
ominous and sepulchr
