my discovery of england-第15节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


he　present；　rocking　the　Empire　to　its　base；　make　one　long　for　the　spacious　days　of　a　Salisbury　or　a　Queen　Elizabeth；　or　an　Alfred　the　Great　or　a　Julius　Caesar。　We　doubt　whether　the　present　Cabinet　is　in　this　class。〃

Not　to　lose　any　time　in　the　coming　and　going　of　the　mail；　always　a　serious　thought　for　the　contributor　to　the　Press　waiting　for　a　cheque；　I　sent　another　editorial　on　the　same　topic　to　the　Manchester　Guardian。　It　ran　as　follows：

〃The　action　of　the　Shriek　of　Kowfat　in　proclaiming　a　Jehad　against　us　is　one　that　amply　justifies　all　that　we　have　said　editorially　since　Jeremy　Bentham　died。　We　have　always　held　that　the　only　way　to　deal　with　a　Mohammedan　potentate　like　the　Shriek　is　to　treat　him　like　a　Christian。　The　Khalifate　of　Kowfat　at　present　buys　its　whole　supply　of　cotton　piece　goods　in　our　market　and　pays　cash。　The　Shriek；　who　is　a　man　of　enlightenment；　has　consistently　upheld　the　principles　of　Free　Trade。　Not　only　are　our　exports　of　cotton　piece　goods；　bibles；　rum；　and　beads　constantly　increasing；　but　they　are　more　than　offset　by　our　importation　from　Kowfat　of　ivory；　rubber；　gold；　and　oil。　In　short；　we　have　never　seen　the　principles　of　Free　Trade　better　illustrated。　The　Shriek；　it　is　now　reported；　refuses　to　wear　the　braces　presented　to　him　by　our　envoy　at　the　time　of　his　coronation　five　years　ago。　He　is　said　to　have　thrown　them　into　the　mud。　But　we　have　no　reason　to　suppose　that　this　is　meant　as　a　blow　at　our　prestige。　It　may　be　that　after　five　years　of　use　the　little　pulleys　of　the　braces　no　longer　work　properly。　We　have　ourselves　in　our　personal　life　known　instances　of　this；　and　can　speak　of　the　sense　of　irritation　occasioned。　Even　we　have　thrown　on　the　floor　ours。　And　in　any　case；　as　we　have　often　reminded　our　readers；　what　is　prestige？　If　any　one　wants　to　hit　us；　let　him　hit　us　right　there。　We　regard　a　blow　at　our　trade　as　far　more　deadly　than　a　blow　at　our　prestige。

〃The　situation　as　we　see　it　demands　immediate　reparation　on　our　part。　The　principal　grievance　of　the　Shriek　arises　from　the　existence　of　our　fort　and　garrison　on　the　Kowfat　river。　Our　proper　policy　is　to　knock　down　the　fort；　and　either　remove　the　garrison　or　give　it　to　the　Shriek。　We　are　convinced　that　as　soon　as　the　Shriek　realises　that　we　are　prepared　to　treat　him　in　the　proper　Christian　spirit；　he　will　at　once　respond　with　true　Mohammedan　generosity。

〃We　have　further　to　remember　that　in　what　we　do　we　are　being　observed　by　the　neighbouring　tribes；　the　Negritos；　the　Dwarf　Men；　and　the　Dog　Men　of　Darfur。　These　are　not　only　shrewd　observers　but　substantial　customers。　　The　Dwarf　Men　at　present　buy　all　their　cotton　on　the　Manchester　market　and　the　Dog　Men　depend　on　us　for　their　soap。

〃The　present　crisis　is　one　in　which　the　nation　needs　statesmanship　and　a　broad　outlook　upon　the　world。　In　the　existing　situation　we　need　not　the　duplicity　of　a　Machiavelli；　but　the　commanding　prescience　of　a　Gladstone　or　an　Alfred　the　Great；　or　a　Julius　Caesar。　Luckily　we　have　exactly　this　type　of　man　at　the　head　of　affairs。〃

After　completing　the　above　I　set　to　work　without　delay　on　a　similar　exercise　for　the　London　Times。　The　special。　excellence　of　the　Times；　as　everybody　knows　is　its　fulness　of　information。　For　generations　past　the　Times　has　commanded　a　peculiar　minuteness　of　knowledge　about　all　parts　of　the　Empire。　It　is　the　proud　boast　of　this　great　journal　that　to　whatever　far　away；　outlandish　part　of　the　Empire　you　may　go；　you　will　always　find　a　correspondent　of　the　Times　looking　for　something　to　do。　It　is　said　that　the　present　proprietor　has　laid　it　down　as　his　maxim；　〃I　don't　want　men　who　think；　I　want　men　who　know。〃　The　arrangements　for　thinking　are　made　separately。

Incidentally　I　may　say　that　I　had　personal　opportunities　while　I　was　in　England　of　realising　that　the　reputation　of　the　Times　staff　for　the　possession　of　information　is　well　founded。　Dining　one　night　with　some　members　of　the　staff；　I　happened　to　mention　Saskatchewan。　One　of　the　editors　at　the　other　end　of　the　table　looked　up　at　the　mention　of　the　name。　〃Saskatchewan；〃　he　said；　〃ah；　yes；　that's　not　far　from　Alberta；　is　it？〃　and　then　turned　quietly　to　his　food　again。　When　I　remind　the　reader　that　Saskatchewan　is　only　half　an　inch　from　Alberta　he　may　judge　of　the　nicety　of　the　knowledge　involved。　Having　all　this　in　mind；　I　recast　the　editorial　and　sent　it　to　the　London　Times　as　follows：

〃The　news　that　the　Sultan　of　Kowfat　has　thrown　away　his　suspenders　renders　it　of　interest　to　indicate　the　exact　spot　where　he　has　thrown　them。　（See　map）。　Kowfat；　lying　as　the　reader　knows；　on　the　Kowfat　River；　occupies　the　hinterland　between　the　back　end　of　south…west　Somaliland　and　the　east；　that　is　to　say；　the　west；　bank　of　Lake　P'schu。　It　thus　forms　an　enclave　between　the　Dog　Men　of　Darfur　and　the　Negritos　of　T'chk。　The　inhabitants　of　Kowfat　are　a　coloured　race　three　quarters　negroid　and　more　than　three　quarters　tabloid。

〃As　a　solution　of　the　present　difficulty；　the　first　thing　required　in　our　opinion　is　to　send　out　a　boundary　commission　to　delineate　more　exactly　still　just　where　Kowfat　is。　After　that　an　ethnographical　survey　might　be　completed。〃


It　was　a　matter　not　only　of　concern　but　of　surprise　to　me　that　not　one　of　the　three　contributions　recited　above　was　accepted　by　the　English　Press。　The　Morning　Post　complained　that　my　editorial　was　not　firm　enough　in　tone；　the　Guardian　that　it　was　not　humane　enough；　the　Times　that　I　had　left　out　the　latitude　and　longitude　always　expected　by　their　readers。　　I　thought　it　not　worth　while　to　bother　to　revise　the　articles　as　I　had　meantime　conceived　the　idea　that　the　same　material　might　be　used　in　the　most　delightfully　amusing　way　as　the　basis　of　a　poem　far　Punch。　Everybody　knows　the　kind　of　verses　that　are　contributed　to　Punch　by　Sir　Owen　Seaman　and　Mr。　Charles　Graves　and　men　of　that　sort。　And　everybody　has　been　struck；　as　I　have；　by　the　extraordinary　easiness　of　the　performance。　All　that　one　needs　is　to　get　some　odd　little　incident；　such　as　the　revolt　of　the　Sultan　of　Kowfat；　make　up　an　amusing　title；　and　then　string　the　verses　together　in　such　a　way　as　to　make　rhymes　with　all　the　odd　words　that　come　into　the　narrative。　In　fact；　the　thing　is　ease　itself。

I　therefore　saw　a　glorious　chance　with　the　Sultan　of　Kowfat。　Indeed；　I　fairly　chuckled　to　myself　when　I　thought　what　amusing　rhymes　could　be　made　with　〃Negritos；〃　〃modus　operandi〃　and　〃Dog　Men　of　Darfur。〃　I　can　scarcely　imagine　anything　more　excruciatingly　funny　than　the　rhymes　which　can　be　made　with　them。　And　as　for　the　title；　bringing　in　the　word　Kowfat　or　some　play　upon　it；　the　thing　is　perfectly　obvious。　The　idea　amused　me　so　much　that　I　set　to　work　at　the　poem　at　once。

I　am　sorry　to　say　that　I　failed　to　complete　it。　Not　that　I　couldn't　have　done　so；　given　time；　I　am　quite　certain　that　if　I　had　had　about　two　years　I　could　have　done　it。　The　main　structure　of　the　poem；　however；　is　here　and　I　give　it　for　what　it　is　worth。　Even　as　it　is　it　strikes　me　as　extraordinarily　good。　Here　it　is：

　　　Title

。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。　Kowfat

　　　Verse　One

。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。；　。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。　modus　operandi；　。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。；　。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。；　Negritos：　。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。　P'shu。

　　　Verse　Two

。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。　Khalifate；　。。。。。。。。。。。。。　Dog　Men　of　Darfur：　。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。　T'chk。


Excellent　little　thing；　isn't　it？　All　it　needs　is　the　rhymes。　As　far　as　it　goes　it　has　just　exactly　the　ease　and　the　sweep　required。　And　if　some　one　will　tell　me　how　Owen　Seaman　and　those　people　get　the　rest　of　the　ease　and　the　sweep　I'll　be　glad　to　put　it　in。

One　further　experiment　of　the　same　sort　I　made　with　the　English　Press　in　another　direction　and　met　again　with　failure。　If　there　is　one　paper　in　the　world　for　which　I　have　respect　andif　I　may　say　itan　affection；　it　is　the　London　Spectator。　I　suppose　that　I　am　only　one　of　thousands　and　thousands　of　people　who　feel　that　way。　Why　under　the　circumstances　the　Spectator　failed　to　publish　my　letter　I　cannot　say。　I　wanted　no　money　for　it：　I　only　wanted　the　honour　of　seeing　it　inserted　beside　the　letter　written　from　the　Rectory；　Hops；　Hants；　or　the　Shrubbery；　Potts；　Shrops；I　mean　from　one　of　those　places　where　the　readers　of　the　Spectator　live。　I　thought　too　that　my　letter　had　just　the　right　touch。　However；　they　wouldn't　take　it：　something　wrong　with　it　somewhere；　I　suppose。　This　is　it：

　　　　To　the　Editor；　　　　　　　　The　Spectator；　　　　　　　　　London；　England。　

　　　　Dear　Sir；

　　　　Your　correspondence　of　last　week　contained　such　interesting　　　　　information　in　regard　to　the　appearance　of　the　first　cowslip　　　　　in　Kensington　Common　that　I　trust　that　I　may；　without　　　　　fatiguing　your　readers　to　the　point　of　saturation；　narrate　　　　　a　somewhat　similar　and　I　think；　sir；　an　equally　interesting　　　　　experience　of　my　own。　While　passing　through　Lambeth　Gardens　　　　　yesterday　towards　the　hour　of　dusk　I　observed　a　crow　with　　　　　one　leg　sitting　beside　the　duck…pond　and　apparently　lost　in　　　　　thought。　There　was　no　doubt　that　the　bird　was　of　the　　　　　species　pulex　hibiscus；　an　order　which　is　becoming　　　　　singularly　rare　in　the　vicinity　of　the　metropolis。　Indeed；　　　　　so　far　as　I　am　aware；　the　species　has　not　been　seen　in　　　　　London　since　1680。　I　may　say　that　on　recog