tea-table talk(茶桌上的谈话)-第11节
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the world of wit bestowed upon him for public purposes； becomes a
brilliant conversationalist。〃
〃But；〃 added the Minor Poet； turning to me； 〃you were speaking of a
man named Longrush； a great talker。〃
〃A long talker；〃 I corrected。 〃My cousin mentioned him third in her
list of invitations。 'Longrush；' she said with conviction； 'we must have
Longrush。' 'Isn't he rather tiresome？' I suggested。 'He is tiresome；' she
agreed； 'but then he's so useful。 He never lets the conversation drop。'〃
〃Why is it？〃 asked the Minor Poet。 〃Why； when we meet together；
must we chatter like a mob of sparrows？ Why must every assembly to be
successful sound like the parrot…house of a zoological garden？〃
〃I remember a parrot story；〃 I said； 〃but I forget who told it to me。〃
〃Maybe one of us will remember as you go on；〃 suggested the
Philosopher。
〃A man；〃 I said〃an old farmer； if I remember rightlyhad read a lot
of parrot stories； or had heard them at the club。 As a result he thought he
would like himself to be the owner of a parrot； so journeyed to a dealer
and； according to his own account； paid rather a long price for a choice
specimen。 A week later he re…entered the shop； the parrot borne behind
him by a boy。 'This bird；' said the farmer； 'this bird you sold me last
week ain't worth a sovereign！' 'What's the matter with it？' demanded the
dealer。 'How do I know what's the matter with the bird？' answered the
farmer。 'What I tell you is that it ain't worth a sovereign'tain' t worth a
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half a sovereign！' 'Why not？' persisted the dealer； 'it talks all right； don't
it？' 'Talks！' retorted the indignant farmer； 'the damn thing talks all day；
but it never says anything funny！'〃
〃A friend of mine；〃 said the Philosopher； 〃once had a parrot〃
〃Won't you come into the garden？〃 said the Woman of the World；
rising and leading the way。
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CHAPTER V
〃Myself；〃 said the Minor Poet； 〃I read the book with the most intense
enjoyment。 I found it inspiringso inspiring； I fear I did not give it
sufficient attention。 I must read it again。〃
〃I understand you；〃 said the Philosopher。 〃A book that really
interests us makes us forget that we are reading。 Just as the most
delightful conversation is when nobody in particular appears to be
talking。〃
〃Do you remember meeting that Russian man George brought down
here about three months ago？〃 asked the Woman of the World； turning to
the Minor Poet。 〃I forget his name。 As a matter of fact； I never knew it。
It was quite unpronounceable and； except that it ended； of course； with a
double f； equally impossible to spell。 I told him frankly at the beginning
I should call him by his Christian name； which fortunately was Nicholas。
He was very nice about it。〃
〃I remember him distinctly；〃 said the Minor Poet。 〃A charming
man。〃
〃He was equally charmed with you；〃 replied the Woman of the World。
〃I can credit it easily；〃 murmured the Minor Poet。 〃One of the most
intelligent men I ever met。〃
〃You talked together for two hours in a corner；〃 said the Woman of the
World。 〃I asked him when you had gone what he thought of you。 'Ah！
what a talker！' he exclaimed； making a gesture of admiration with his
hands。 'I thought maybe you would notice it；' I answered him。 'Tell me；
what did he talk about？' I was curious to know； you had been so
absorbed in yourselves and so oblivious to the rest of us。 'Upon my
word；' he replied； 'I really cannot tell you。 Do you know； I am afraid；
now I come to think of it； that I must have monopolised the conversation。'
I was glad to be able to ease his mind on that point。 'I really don't think
you did；' I assured him。 I should have felt equally confident had I not been
present。〃
〃You were quite correct；〃 returned the Minor Poet。 〃I have a distinct
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recollection of having made one or two observations myself。 Indeed； if I
may say so； I talked rather well。〃
〃You may also recollect；〃 continued the Woman of the World； 〃that the
next time we met I asked you what he had said； and that your mind was
equally a blank on the subject。 You admitted you had found him
interesting。 I was puzzled at the time； but now I begin to understand。
Both of you； no doubt； found the conversation so brilliant； each of you felt
it must have been your own。〃
〃A good book；〃 I added〃a good talk is like a good dinner： one
assimilates it。 The best dinner is the dinner you do not know you have
eaten。〃
〃A thing will often suggest interesting thought；〃 observed the Old
Maid； 〃without being interesting。 Often I find the tears coming into my
eyes as I witness some stupid melodramasomething said； something
hinted at； will stir a memory； start a train of thought。〃
〃I once；〃 I said； 〃sat next to a country…man in the pit of a music… hall
some years ago。 He enjoyed himself thoroughly up to half…past ten。
Songs about mothers…in…law； drunken wives； and wooden legs he roared at
heartily。 At ten…thirty entered a well…known artiste who was then giving
a series of what he called 'Condensed Tragedies in Verse。' At the first
two my country friend chuckled hugely。 The third ran： 'Little boy； pair
of skates： broken ice； heaven's gates。' My friend turned white； rose
hurriedly； and pushed his way impatiently out of the house。 I left myself
some ten minutes later； and by chance ran against him again in the bar of
the 'Criterion；' where he was drinking whisky rather copiously。 'I
couldn't stand that fool；' he explained to me in a husky voice。 'Truth is；
my youngest kid got drowned last winter skating。 Don't see any sense
making fun of real trouble。'〃
〃I can cap your story with another；〃 said the Philosopher。 〃Jim sent
me a couple of seats for one of his first nights a month or two ago。 They
did not reach me till four o'clock in the afternoon。 I went down to the
club to see if I could pick up anybody。 The only man there I knew at all
was a rather quiet young fellow； a new member。 He had just taken
Bates's chambers in Staple Innyou have met him； I think。 He didn't
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know many people then and was grateful for my invitation。 The play
was one of those Palais Royal farces it cannot matter which； they are all
exactly alike。 The fun consists of somebody's trying to sin without being
found out。 It always goes well。 The British public invariably welcomes
the theme； provided it be dealt with in a merry fashion。 It is only the
serious discussion of evil that shocks us。 There was the usual banging of
doors and the usual screaming。 Everybody was laughing around us。
My young friend sat with rather a curious fixed smile upon his face。
'Fairly well constructed；' I said to him； as the second curtain fell amid yells
of delight。 'Yes；' he answered； 'I suppose it's very funny。' I looked at
him； he was little more than a boy。 'You are rather young；' I said； 'to be a
moralist。' He gave a short laugh。 'Oh！ I shall grow out of it in time；' he
said。 He told me his story later； when I came to know him better。 He
had played the farce himself over in Melbournehe was an Australian。
Only the third act had ended differentl
