the angel and the author-第21节

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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　yourself。〃

Besides；　my　sense　of　justice　is　outraged。　　Why　should　the　short　
brother　be　banged　and　thumped　without　reason？　　The　Greek　dramatist　
would　have　explained　to　us　that　the　shorter　brother　had　committed　a　
crime　against　the　gods。　　Aristophanes　would　have　made　the　longer　
brother　the　instrument　of　the　Furies。　　The　riddles　he　asked　would　
have　had　bearing　upon　the　shorter　brother's　sin。　　In　this　way　the　
spectator　would　have　enjoyed　amusement　combined　with　the　satisfactory　
sense　that　Nemesis　is　ever　present　in　human　affairs。　　I　present　the　
idea；　for　what　it　may　be　worth；　to　the　concoctors　of　knockabout　
turns。

＇Where　Brotherly　（and　Sisterly）　Love　reigns　supreme＇

The　family　tie　is　always　strong　on　the　music…hall　stage。　　The　
acrobatic　troupe　is　always　a　〃Family〃：　　Pa；　Ma；　eight　brothers　and　
sisters；　and　the　baby。　　A　more　affectionate　family　one　rarely　sees。　　
Pa　and　Ma　are　a　trifle　stout；　but　still　active。　　Baby；　dear　little　
fellow；　is　full　of　humour。　　Ladies　do　not　care　to　go　on　the　music…
hall　stage　unless　they　can　take　their　sister　with　them。　　I　have　seen　
a　performance　given　by　eleven　sisters；　all　the　same　size　and　
apparently　all　the　same　age。　　She　must　have　been　a　wonderful　woman
the　mother。　　They　all　had　golden　hair；　and　all　wore　precisely　similar　
frocksa　charming　but　decolletee　arrangementin　claret…coloured　
velvet　over　blue　silk　stockings。　　So　far　as　I　could　gather；　they　all　
had　the　same　young　man。　　No　doubt　he　found　it　difficult　amongst　them　
to　make　up　his　mind。

〃Arrange　it　among　yourselves；〃　he　no　doubt　had　said；　〃it　is　quite　
immaterial　to　me。　　You　are　so　much　alike；　it　is　impossible　that　a　
fellow　loving　one　should　not　love　the　lot　of　you。　　So　long　as　I　marry　
into　the　family　I　really　don't　care。〃

When　a　performer　appears　alone　on　the　music…hall　stage　it　is　easy　to　
understand　why。　　His　or　her　domestic　life　has　been　a　failure。　　I　
listened　one　evening　to　six　songs　in　succession。　　The　first　two　were　
sung　by　a　gentleman。　　He　entered　with　his　clothes　hanging　upon　him　in　
shreds。　　He　explained　that　he　had　just　come　from　an　argument　with　his　
wife。　　He　showed　us　the　brick　with　which　she　had　hit　him；　and　the　
bump　at　the　back　of　his　head　that　had　resulted。　　The　funny　man's　
marriage　is　never　a　success。　　But　really　this　seems　to　be　his　own　
fault。　　〃She　was　such　a　lovely　girl；〃　he　tells　us；　〃with　a　face
well；　you'd　hardly　call　it　a　face；　it　was　more　like　a　gas　explosion。　　
Then　she　had　those　wonderful　sort　of　eyes　that　you　can　see　two　ways　
at　once　with；　one　of　them　looks　down　the　street；　while　the　other　one　
is　watching　round　the　corner。　　Can　see　you　coming　any　way。　　And　her　
mouth！〃

It　appears　that　if　she　stands　anywhere　near　the　curb　and　smiles；　
careless　people　mistake　her　for　a　pillar…box；　and　drop　letters　into　
her。

〃And　such　a　voice！〃　　We　are　told　it　is　a　perfect　imitation　of　a　
motor…car。　　When　she　laughs　people　spring　into　doorways　to　escape　
being　run　over。

If　he　will　marry　that　sort　of　woman；　what　can　he　expect？　　The　man　is　
asking　for　it。

The　lady　who　followed　him　also　told　us　a　sad　story　of　misplaced　
trust。　　She　also　was　comicso　the　programme　assured　us。　　The　
humorist　appears　to　have　no　luck。　　She　had　lent　her　lover　money　to　
buy　the　ring；　and　the　licence；　and　to　furnish　the　flat。　　He　did　buy　
the　ring；　and　he　furnished　the　flat；　but　it　was　for　another　lady。　　
The　audience　roared。　　I　have　heard　it　so　often　asked；　〃What　is　
humour？〃　　From　observation；　I　should　describe　it　as　other　people's　
troubles。

A　male　performer　followed　her。　　He　came　on　dressed　in　a　night…shirt；　
carrying　a　baby。　　His　wife；　it　seemed；　had　gone　out　for　the　evening　
with　the　lodger。　　That　was　his　joke。　　It　was　the　most　successful　song　
of　the　whole　six。

＇The　one　sure　Joke。＇

A　philosopher　has　put　it　on　record　that　he　always　felt　sad　when　he　
reflected　on　the　sorrows　of　humanity。　　But　when　he　reflected　on　its　
amusements　he　felt　sadder　still。

Why　was　it　so　funny　that　the　baby　had　the　lodger's　nose？　　We　laughed　
for　a　full　minute　by　the　clock。

Why　do　I　love　to　see　a　flabby…faced　man　go　behind　curtains；　and；　
emerging　in　a　wig　and　a　false　beard；　say　that　he　is　now　Bismarck　or　
Mr。　Chamberlain？　　I　have　felt　resentment　against　the　Lightning　
Impersonator　ever　since　the　days　of　Queen　Victoria's　Diamond　Jubilee。　　
During　that　summer　every　Lightning　Impersonator　ended　his　show　by　
shouting；　while　the　band　played　the　National　Anthem；　〃Queen　
Victoria！〃　　He　was　not　a　bit　like　Queen　Victoria。　　He　did　not　even；　
to　my　thinking；　look　a　lady；　but　at　once　I　had　to　stand　up　in　my　
place　and　sing　〃God　save　the　Queen。〃　　It　was　a　time　of　enthusiastic　
loyalty；　if　you　did　not　spring　up　quickly　some　patriotic　old　fool　
from　the　back　would　reach　across　and　hit　you　over　the　head　with　the　
first　thing　he　could　lay　his　hands　upon。

Other　music…hall　performers　caught　at　the　idea。　　By　ending　up　with　
〃God　save　the　Queen〃　any　performer；　however　poor；　could　retire　in　a　
whirlwind　of　applause。　　Niggers