the angel and the author-第23章
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time to see them waddling over the grass。 He thought they were
running to fetch him brandy。 When the officer returned with the
chaperon he found the hairdresser sitting opposite to them；
explaining that he really was not hurt； and suggesting that； as they
were there； perhaps they would like something to eat and drink。
The girls made one last frantic appeal to the man of buckram and
pipeclay； but the etiquette of the Saxon Army was inexorable。 It
transpired that he might kill the hairdresser； but nothing else： he
must not speak to himnot even explain to the poor devil why it was
that he was being killed。
＇Her path of Usefulness。＇
It did not seem quite worth it。 They had some sandwiches and coffee
at the hairdresser's expense； and went home in a cab： while the
chaperon had breakfast with the officer of noble family。
The American girl has succeeded in freeing European social
intercourse from many of its hide…bound conventions。 There is still
much work for her to do。 But I have faith in her。
CHAPTER XV
＇Music and the Savage。＇
I never visit a music…hall without reflecting concerning the great
future there must be before the human race。
How young we are； how very young！ And think of all we have done！
Man is still a mere boy。 He has only just within the last half…
century been put into trousers。 Two thousand years ago he wore long
clothesthe Grecian robe； the Roman toga。 Then followed the Little
Lord Fauntleroy period； when he went about dressed in a velvet suit
with lace collar and cuffs； and had his hair curled for him。 The
late lamented Queen Victoria put him into trousers。 What a wonderful
little man he will be when he is grown up！
A clergyman friend of mine told me of a German Kurhaus to which he
was sent for his sins and his health。 It was a resort； for some
reason； specially patronized by the more elderly section of the
higher English middle class。 Bishops were there； suffering from
fatty degeneration of the heart caused by too close application to
study； ancient spinsters of good family subject to spasms； gouty
retired generals。 Can anybody tell me how many men in the British
Army go to a general？ Somebody once assured me it was five thousand；
but that is absurd； on the face of it。 The British Army； in that
case； would have to be counted by millions。 There are a goodish few
American colonels still knocking about。 The American colonel is
still to be met with here and there by the curious traveller； but
compared with the retired British general he is an extinct species。
In Cheltenham and Brighton and other favoured towns there are streets
of nothing but retired British generalssquares of retired British
generalswhole crescents of British generals。 Abroad there are
pensions with a special scale of charges for British generals。 In
Switzerland there has even been talk of reserving railway
compartments 〃For British Generals Only。〃 In Germany； when you do
not say distinctly and emphatically on being introduced that you are
not a British general； you are assumed； as a matter of course； to be
a British general。 During the Boer War； when I was residing in a
small garrison town on the Rhine； German military men would draw me
aside and ask of me my own private personal views as to the conduct
of the campaign。 I would give them my views freely； explain to them
how I would finish the whole thing in a week。
〃But how in the face of the enemy's tactics〃 one of them would
begin。
〃Bother the enemy's tactics；〃 I would reply。 〃Who cares for
tactics？〃
〃But surely a British general〃 they would persist。 〃Who's a
British general？〃 I would retort； 〃I am talking to you merely as a
plain commonsense man； with a head on my shoulders。〃
They would apologize for their mistake。 But this is leading me away
from that German Kurhaus。
＇Recreation for the Higher clergy。＇
My clergyman friend found life there dull。 The generals and the
spinsters left to themselves might have played cards； but they
thought of the poor bishops who would have had to look on envious。
The bishops and the spinsters might have sung ballads； but the
British general after dinner does not care for ballads； and had
mentioned it。 The bishops and the generals might have told each
other stories； but could not before the ladies。 My clergyman friend
stood the awful solemnity of three evenings； then cautiously felt his
way towards revelry。 He started with an intellectual game called
〃Quotations。〃 You write down quotations on a piece of paper； and the
players have to add the author's name。 It roped in four old ladies；
and the youngest bishop。 One or two generals tried a round； but not
being familiar with quotations voted the game slow。
The next night my friend tried 〃Consequences。〃 〃Saucy Miss A。 met
the gay General B。 in〃most unlikely places。 〃He said。〃 Really it
was fortunate that General B。 remained too engrossed in the day
before yesterday's Standard to overhear； or Miss A。 could never have
again faced him。 〃And she replied。〃 The suppressed giggles excited
the curiosity of the non…players。 Most of the bishops and half the
generals asked to be allowed to join。 The giggles grew into roars。
Those standing out found that they could not read their papers in
comfort。
From 〃Consequences〃 the descent was easy。 The tables and chairs were
pushed against the walls； the bishops and the spinsters and the
generals would sit in a ring upon the floor playing hunt the slipper。
Musical chairs made the two hours between bed and dinner the time of
the day they all looked forward to： the steady trot with every nerve
alert； the ear listening for the sudden stoppage of the music； the
eye seeking with artfulness the likeliest chair； the volcanic
silence； the mad scramble。
The generals felt themselves fighting their battles over again； the
spinsters blushed and preened themselves； the bishops took interest
in proving that even the Church could be prompt of decision and swift
of movement。 Before the week was out they were playing Puss…in…the…
corner； ladies feeling young again were archly beckoning to stout
deans； to whom were returning all the sensations of a curate。 The
swiftness with which the gouty generals found they could still hobble
surprised even themselves。
＇Why are we so young？＇
But it is in the music…hall； as I have said； that I am most impressed
with the youthfulness of man。 How delighted we are when the long man
in the little boy's hat； having asked his short brother a riddle； and
before he can find time to answer it； hits him over the stomach with
an umbrella！ How we clap our hands and shout with glee！ It isn't
really his stomach： it is a bolster tied round his waistwe know
that； but seeing the long man whack at that bolster with an umbrella
gives us almost as much joy as if the bolster were not there。
I laugh at the knockabout brothers； I confess； so long as they are on
the stage； but they do not convince me。 Reflecting on the
performance afterwards； my dramatic sense revolts against the 〃plot。〃
I cannot accept the theory of their being brothers。 The difference
in size alone is a strain upon my imagination。 It is not probable
that of two children of the same parents one should measure six foot
six； and the other five foot four。 Even allowing for a freak of
nature； and accepting the fact that they might be brothers； I do not
believe they would remain so inseparable。 The short brother would
have succeeded before now in losing the long brother。 Those
continual bangings over the head and stomach would have weakened
whatever affection the short brother might originally have felt
towards his long relation。 At least； he would insist upon the
umbrella being left at home。
〃I will go for a walk with you；〃 he might say； 〃I will stand stock
still with you in Trafalgar Square in the midst of the traffic while
you ask me silly riddles； but not if you persist in bringing with you
that absurd umbrella。 You are too handy with it。 Put it back in the
rack before we start； or go out by
