the poet at the breakfast table-第45节

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pars　magna　fui；　I　find　myself　all　at　once　exclaiming　in　mental
articulation；　Popgun！　　When　my　friend　the　story…teller　begins　that
protracted　narrative　which　has　often　emptied　me　of　all　my　voluntary
laughter　for　the　evening；　he　has　got　but　a　very　little　way　when　I　say
to　myself；　What　wouldn't　I　give　for　a　pellet　from　that　popgun！　　In
short；　so　useful　has　that　trivial　implement　proved　as　a　jaw…stopper
and　a　boricide；　that　I　never　go　to　a　club　or　a　dinner…party；　without
wishing　the　company　included　our　Scheherezade　and　That　Boy　with　his
popgun。

How　clearly　I　see　now　into　the　mechanism　of　the　Young　Girl's
audacious　contrivance　for　regulating　our　table…talk！　　Her　brain　is
tired　half　the　time；　and　she　is　too　nervous　to　listen　patiently　to
what　a　quieter　person　would　like　well　enough；　or　at　least　would　not
be　annoyed　by。　　It　amused　her　to　invent　a　scheme　for　managing　the
headstrong　talkers；　and　also　let　off　a　certain　spirit　of　mischief
which　in　some　of　these　nervous　girls　shows　itself　in　much　more
questionable　forms。　　How　cunning　these　half…hysteric　young　persons
are；　to　be　sure！　　I　had　to　watch　a　long　time　before　I　detected　the
telegraphic　communication　between　the　two　conspirators。　　I　have　no
doubt　she　had　sedulously　schooled　the　little　monkey　to　his　business；
and　found　great　delight　in　the　task　of　instruction。

But　now　that　our　Scheherezade　has　become　a　scholar　instead　of　a
teacher；　she　seems　to　be　undergoing　a　remarkable　transformation。
Astronomy　is　indeed　a　noble　science。　　It　may　well　kindle　the
enthusiasm　of　a　youthful　nature。　　I　fancy　at　times　that　I　see
something　of　that　starry　light　which　I　noticed　in　the　young　man's
eyes　gradually　kindling　in　hers。　　But　can　it　be　astronomy　alone　that
does　it？　　Her　color　comes　and　goes　more　readily　than　when　the　old
Master　sat　next　her　on　the　left。　　It　is　having　this　young　man　at　her
side；　I　suppose。　　Of　course　it　is。　　I　watch　her　with　great；　I　may　say
tender　interest。　　If　he　would　only　fall　in　love　with　her；　seize　upon
her　wandering　affections　and　fancies　as　the　Romans　seized　the　Sabine
virgins；　lift　her　out　of　herself　and　her　listless　and　weary
drudgeries；　stop　the　outflow　of　this　young　life　which　is　draining
itself　away　in　forced　literary　labordear　me；　dear　meif；　if；　if

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　〃If　I　were　God
　　　　　An'　ye　were　Martin　Elginbrod！〃

I　am　afraid　all　this　may　never　be。　　I　fear　that　he　is　too　much　given
to　lonely　study；　to　self…companionship；　to　all　sorts　of　questionings；
to　looking　at　life　as　at　a　solemn　show　where　he　is　only　a　spectator。
I　dare　not　build　up　a　romance　on　what　I　have　yet　seen。　　My　reader
may；　but　I　will　answer　for　nothing。　　I　shall　wait　and　see。

The　old　Master　and　I　have　at　last　made　that　visit　to　the　Scarabee
which　we　had　so　long　promised　ourselves。

When　we　knocked　at　his　door　he　came　and　opened　it；　instead　of　saying；
Come　in。　　He　was　surprised；　I　have　no　doubt；　at　the　sound　of　our
footsteps；　for　he　rarely　has　a　visitor；　except　the　little　monkey　of　a
boy；　and　he　may　have　thought　a　troop　of　marauders　were　coming　to　rob
him　of　his　treasures。　　Collectors　feel　so　rich　in　the　possession　of
their　rarer　specimens；　that　they　forget　how　cheap　their　precious
things　seem　to　common　eyes；　and　are　as　afraid　of　being　robbed　as　if
they　were　dealers　in　diamonds。　　They　have　the　name　of　stealing　from
each　other　now　and　then；　it　is　true；　but　many　of　their　priceless
possessions　would　hardly　tempt　a　beggar。　　Values　are　artificial：　you
will　not　be　able　to　get　ten　cents　of　the　year　1799　for　a　dime。

The　Scarabee　was　reassured　as　soon　as　he　saw　our　faces；　and　he
welcomed　us　not　ungraciously　into　his　small　apartment。　　It　was　hard
to　find　a　place　to　sit　down；　for　all　the　chairs　were　already　occupied
by　cases　and　boxes　full　of　his　favorites。　　I　began；　therefore；
looking　round　the　room。　　Bugs　of　every　size　and　aspect　met　my　eyes
wherever　they　turned。　　I　felt　for　the　moment　as　I　suppose　a　man　may
feel　in　a　fit　of　delirium　tremens。　　Presently　my　attention　was　drawn
towards　a　very　odd…looking　insect　on　the　mantelpiece。　　This　animal
was　incessantly　raising　its　arms　as　if　towards　heaven　and　clasping
them　together；　as　though　it　were　wrestling　in　prayer。

Do　look　at　this　creature；I　said　to　the　Master；　he　seems　to　be　very
hard　at　work　at　his　devotions。

Mantas　religiosa；said　the　Master；I　know　the　praying　rogue。
Mighty　devout　and　mighty　cruel；　crushes　everything　he　can　master；　or
impales　it　on　his　spiny　shanks　and　feeds　upon　it；　like　a　gluttonous
wretch　as　he　is。　　I　have　seen　the　Mantis　religiosa　on　a　larger　scale
than　this；　now　and　then。　　A　sacred　insect；　sir；sacred　to　many
tribes　of　men；　to　the　Hottentots；　to　the　Turks；　yes；　sir；　and　to　the
Frenchmen；　who　call　the　rascal　prie　dieu；　and　believe　him　to　have
special　charge　of　children　that　have　lost　their　way。

Doesn't　it　seem　as　if　there　was　a　vein　of　satire　as　well　as　of　fun
that　ran　through　the　solemn　manifestations　of　creative　wisdom？　　And
of　deception　toodo　you　see　how　nearly　those　dried　leaves　resemble
an　insect？

They　do；　indeed；I　answered；but　not　so　closely　as　to　deceive　me。
They　remind　me　of　an　insect；　but　I　could　not　mistake　them　for　one。

Oh；　you　couldn't　mistake　those　dried　leaves　for　an　insect；　hey？
Well；　how　can　you　mistake　that　insect　for　dried　leaves？　　That　is　the
question；　for　insect　it　is；phyllum　siccifolium；　the　〃walking　leaf；〃
as　some　have　called　it。　The　Master　had　a　hearty　laugh　at　my
expense。

The　Scarabee　did　not　seem　to　be　amused　at　the　Master's　remarks　or　at
my　blunder。　　Science　is　always　perfectly　serious　to　him；　and　he　would
no　more　laugh　over　anything　connected　with　his　study；　than　a
clergyman　would　laugh　at　a　funeral。

They　send　me　all　sorts　of　trumpery；he　said；　Orthoptera　and
Lepidoptera；　as　if　a　coleopterista　scarabeeistcared　for　such
things。　　This　business　is　no　boy's　play　to　me。　　The　insect　population
of　the　world　is　not　even　catalogued　yet；　and　a　lifetime　given　to　the
scarabees　is　a　small　contribution　enough　to　their　study。　　I　like　your
men　of　general　intelligence　well　enough；your　Linnwuses　and　your
Buffons　and　your　Cuviers；　but　Cuvier　had　to　go　to　Latreille　for　his
insects；　and　if　Latreille　had　been　able　to　consult　me；yes；　me；
gentlemen！he　would　n't　have　made　the　blunders　he　did　about　some　of
the　coleoptera。

The　old　Master；　as　I　think　you　must　have　found　out　by　this　time；
you；　Beloved；　I　mean；　who　read　every　word；has　a　reasonably　good
opinion；　as　perhaps　he　has　a　right　to　have；　of　his　own　intelligence
and　acquirements。　　The　Scarabee's　exultation　and　glow　as　he　spoke　of
the　errors　of　the　great　entomologist　which　he　himself　could　have
corrected；　had　the　effect　on　the　old　Master　which　a　lusty　crow　has
upon　the　feathered　champion　of　the　neighboring　barnyard。　　He　too　knew
something　about　insects。　　Had　he　not　discovered　a；　new　tabanus？　　Had
he　not　made　preparations　of　the　very　coleoptera　the　Scarabee　studied
so　exclusively；preparations　which　the　illustrious　Swammerdam　would
not　have　been　ashamed　of；　and　dissected　a　melolontha　as　exquisitely
as　Strauss　Durckheim　himself　ever　did　it？　　So　the　Master；　recalling
these　studies　of　his　and　certain　difficult　and　disputed　points　at
which　he　had　labored　in　one　of　his　entomological　paroxysms；　put　a
question　which　there　can　be　little　doubt　was　intended　to　puzzle　the
Scarabee；　and　perhaps；for　the　best　of　us　is　human　（I　am　beginning
to　love　the　old　Master；　but　he　has　his　little　weaknesses；　thank
Heaven；　like　the　rest　of　us）；I　say　perhaps；　was　meant　to　show　that
some　folks　knew　as　much　about　some　things　as　some　other　folks。

The　little　dried…up　specialist　did　not　dilate　into　fighting
dimensions　asperhaps；　againthe　Master　may　have　thought　he　would。
He　looked　a　mild　surprise；　but　remained　as　quiet　as　one　of　his　own
beetles　when　you　touch　him　and　he　makes　believe　he　is　dead。　　The
blank　silence　became　oppressive。　　Was　the　Scarabee　crushed；　as　so
many　of　his　namesakes　are　crushed；　under　the　heel　of　this　trampling
omniscient？

At　last　the　Scarabee　creaked　out　very　slowly；　〃Did　I　understand　you
to　ask　the　following　question；　to　wit？〃　and　so　forth；　for　I　was　quite
out　of　my　depth；　and　only　know　that　he　repeated　the　Master's　somewhat
complex　inquiry；　word　for　word。

That　was　exactly　my　question；said　the　Master；and　I　hope　it　is
not　uncivil　to　ask　one　which　seems　to　me　to　be　a　puzzler。

Not　uncivil　in　the　least；said　the　Scarabee；　with　something　as　much
like　a　look　of　triumph　as　his　dry　face　permitted；not　uncivil　at
all；　but　a　rather　extraordinary　question　to　ask　at　this　date　of
entomological　history。　　I　settled　that　question　some　years　ago；　by　a
series　of　dissections；　six…and…thirty　in　number；　reported　in　an　essay
I　can　show　you　and　would　give　you　a　copy　of；　but　that　I　am　a　little
restricted　in　my　revenue；　and　our　Society　has　to　be　economical；　so　I
have　but　this　one。　　You　see；　sir；and　he　went　on　with　elytra　and
antennae　and　tarsi　and　metatarsi　and　tracheae　and　stomata　and　wing…
muscles　and　leg…muscles　and　ganglions；all　plain　enough；　I　do　not
doubt；　to　those　accustomed　to　handling　dor…bugs　and　squash…bugs　and
such　undesirable　objects　of　affection　to　all　but　naturalists。

He　paused　when　he　got　through；　not　for　an　answer；　for　there　evidently
was　none；　but