manalive-第3节

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give　it　fair　play！〃　　And　he　came　after　his　own　hat　quickly
but　cautiously；　with　burning　eyes。　　The　hat　had　seemed　at　first
to　droop　and　dawdle　as　in　ostentatious　langour　on　the　sunny　lawn；
but　the　wind　again　freshening　and　rising；　it　went　dancing　down
the　garden　with　the　devilry　of　a　~pas　de　quatre~。　The　eccentric　went
bounding　after　it　with　kangaroo　leaps　and　bursts　of　breathless　speech；
of　which　it　was　not　always　easy　to　pick　up　the　thread：
〃Fair　play；　fair　play。。。　sport　of　kings。。。　chase　their　crowns。。。
quite　humane。。。　tramontana。。。　cardinals　chase　red　hats。。。　old
English　hunting。。。　started　a　hat　in　Bramber　Combe。。。　hat　at　bay。。。
mangled　hounds。。。　Got　him！〃

As　the　winds　rose　out　of　a　roar　into　a　shriek；　he　leapt　into　the　sky
on　his　strong；　fantastic　legs；　snatched　at　the　vanishing　hat；
missed　it；　and　pitched　sprawling　face　foremost　on　the　grass。
The　hat　rose　over　him　like　a　bird　in　triumph。　　But　its　triumph
was　premature；　for　the　lunatic；　flung　forward　on　his　hands；
threw　up　his　boots　behind；　waved　his　two　legs　in　the　air
like　symbolic　ensigns　（so　that　they　actually　thought　again
of　the　telegram）；　and　actually　caught　the　hat　with　his　feet。
A　prolonged　and　piercing　yell　of　wind　split　the　welkin　from　end　to　end。
The　eyes　of　all　the　men　were　blinded　by　the　invisible　blast；
as　by　a　strange；　clear　cataract　of　transparency　rushing　between
them　and　all　objects　about　them。　　But　as　the　large　man　fell　back
in　a　sitting　posture　and　solemnly　crowned　himself　with　the　hat；
Michael　found；　to　his　incredulous　surprise；　that　he　had　been
holding　his　breath；　like　a　man　watching　a　duel。

While　that　tall　wind　was　at　the　top　of　its　sky…scraping　energy；
another　short　cry　was　heard；　beginning　very　querulous；　but　ending
very　quick；　swallowed　in　abrupt　silence。　　The　shiny　black　cylinder
of　Dr。　Warner's　official　hat　sailed　off　his　head　in　the　long；
smooth　parabola　of　an　airship；　and　in　almost　cresting　a　garden
tree　was　caught　in　the　topmost　branches。　　Another　hat　was　gone。
Those　in　that　garden　felt　themselves　caught　in　an　unaccustomed　eddy
of　things　happening；　no　one　seemed　to　know　what　would　blow　away　next。
Before　they　could　speculate；　the　cheering　and　hallooing　hat…hunter
was　already　halfway　up　the　tree；　swinging　himself　from　fork　to　fork
with　his　strong；　bent；　grasshopper　legs；　and　still　giving　forth
his　gasping；　mysterious　comments。

〃Tree　of　life。。。　Ygdrasil。。。　climb　for　centuries　perhaps。。。　owls　nesting
in　the　hat。。。　remotest　generations　of　owls。。。　still　usurpers。。。　gone
to　heaven。。。　man　in　the　moon　wears　it。。。　brigand。。。　not　yours。。。　belongs
to　depressed　medical　man。。。　in　garden。。。　give　it　up。。。　give　it　up！〃

The　tree　swung　and　swept　and　thrashed　to　and　fro　in　the　thundering
wind　like　a　thistle；　and　flamed　in　the　full　sunshine　like　a　bonfire。
The　green；　fantastic　human　figure；　vivid　against　its　autumn　red　and　gold；
was　already　among　its　highest　and　craziest　branches；　which　by　bare　luck　did
not　break　with　the　weight　of　his　big　body。　　He　was　up　there　among　the　last
tossing　leaves　and　the　first　twinkling　stars　of　evening；　still　talking
to　himself　cheerfully；　reasoningly；　half　apologetically；　in　little　gasps。
He　might　well　be　out　of　breath；　for　his　whole　preposterous　raid　had
gone　with　one　rush；　he　had　bounded　the　wall　once　like　a　football；
swept　down　the　garden　like　a　slide；　and　shot　up　the　tree　like　a　rocket。
The　other　three　men　seemed　buried　under　incident　piled　on　incident
a　wild　world　where　one　thing　began　before　another　thing　left　off。
All　three　had　the　first　thought。　　The　tree　had　been　there　for　the　five　years
they　had　known　the　boarding…house。　Each　one　of　them　was　active　and　strong。
No　one　of　them　had　even　thought　of　climbing　it。　　Beyond　that；
Inglewood　felt　first　the　mere　fact　of　colour。　　The　bright　brisk　leaves；
the　bleak　blue　sky；　the　wild　green　arms　and　legs；　reminded　him　irrationally
of　something　glowing　in　his　infancy；　something　akin　to　a　gaudy　man
on　a　golden　tree；　perhaps　it　was　only　painted　monkey　on　a　stick。
Oddly　enough；　Michael　Moon；　though　more　of　a　humourist；　was　touched　on
a　tenderer　nerve；　half　remembered　the　old；　young　theatricals　with　Rosamund；
and　was　amused　to　find　himself　almost　quoting　Shakespeare

　　　　　　　　〃For　valour。　　Is　not　love　a　Hercules；
　　　　　　　　　Still　climbing　trees　in　the　Hesperides？〃


Even　the　immovable　man　of　science　had　a　bright；　bewildered　sensation
that　the　Time　Machine　had　given　a　great　jerk；　and　gone　forward
with　rather　rattling　rapidity。

He　was　not；　however；　wholly　prepared　for　what　happened　next。
The　man　in　green；　riding　the　frail　topmost　bough　like　a　witch　on　a　very　risky
broomstick；　reached　up　and　rent　the　black　hat　from　its　airy　nest　of　twigs。
It　had　been　broken　across　a　heavy　bough　in　the　first　burst　of　its　passage；
a　tangle　of　branches　in　torn　and　scored　and　scratched　it　in　every　direction；
a　clap　of　wind　and　foliage　had　flattened　it　like　a　concertina；　nor　can　it
be　said　that　the　obliging　gentleman　with　the　sharp　nose　showed　any　adequate
tenderness　for　its　structure　when　he　finally　unhooked　it　from　its　place。
When　he　had　found　it；　however；　his　proceedings　were　by　some　counted　singular。
He　waved　it　with　a　loud　whoop　of　triumph；　and　then　immediately　appeared
to　fall　backwards　off　the　tree；　to　which；　however；　he　remained
attached　by　his　long　strong　legs；　like　a　monkey　swung　by　his　tail。
Hanging　thus　head　downwards　above　the　unhelmed　Warner；　he　gravely　proceeded
to　drop　the　battered　silk　cylinder　upon　his　brows。　　〃Every　man　a　king；〃
explained　the　inverted　philosopher；　〃every　hat　（consequently）　a　crown。
But　this　is　a　crown　out　of　heaven。〃

And　he　again　attempted　the　coronation　of　Warner；　who；　however；　moved　away
with　great　abruptness　from　the　hovering　diadem；　not　seeming；　strangely　enough；
to　wish　for　his　former　decoration　in　its　present　state。

〃Wrong；　wrong！〃　cried　the　obliging　person　hilariously。
〃Always　wear　uniform；　even　if　it's　shabby　uniform！
Ritualists　may　always　be　untidy。　　Go　to　a　dance　with　soot　on
your　shirt…front；　but　go　with　a　shirt…front。　Huntsman　wears　old　coat；
but　old　pink　coat。　　Wear　a　topper；　even　if　it's　got　no　top。
It's　the　symbol　that　counts；　old　cock。　　Take　your　hat；
because　it　is　your　hat　after　all；　its　nap　rubbed　all　off
by　the　bark；　dears；　and　its　brim　not　the　least　bit　curled；
but　for　old　sakes'　sake　it　is　still；　dears；　the　nobbiest　tile
in　the　world。〃

Speaking　thus；　with　a　wild　comfortableness；　he　settled　or　smashed
the　shapeless　silk　hat　over　the　face　of　the　disturbed　physician；
and　fell　on　his　feet　among　the　other　men；　still　talking；
beaming　and　breathless。

〃Why　don't　they　make　more　games　out　of　wind？〃　he　asked　in　some　excitement。
〃Kites　are　all　right；　but　why　should　it　only　be　kites？　　Why；　I　thought
of　three　other　games　for　a　windy　day　while　I　was　climbing　that　tree。
Here's　one　of　them：　　you　take　a　lot　of　pepper〃

〃I　think；〃　interposed　Moon；　with　a　sardonic　mildness；
〃that　your　games　are　already　sufficiently　interesting。
Are　you；　may　I　ask；　a　professional　acrobat　on　a　tour；
or　a　travelling　advertisement　of　Sunny　Jim？　　How　and　why　do　you
display　all　this　energy　for　clearing　walls　and　climbing　trees
in　our　melancholy；　but　at　least　rational；　suburbs？〃

The　stranger；　so　far　as　so　loud　a　person　was　capable　of　it；
appeared　to　grow　confidential。

〃Well；　it's　a　trick　of　my　own；〃　he　confessed　candidly。
〃I　do　it　by　having　two　legs。〃

Arthur　Inglewood；　who　had　sunk　into　the　background　of　this　scene　of　folly；
started　and　stared　at　the　newcomer　with　his　short…sighted　eyes　screwed　up
and　his　high　colour　slightly　heightened。

〃Why；　I　believe　you're　Smith；〃　he　cried　with　his　fresh；　almost　boyish　voice；
and　then　after　an　instant's　stare；　〃and　yet　I'm　not　sure。〃

〃I　have　a　card；　I　think；〃　said　the　unknown；　with　baffling　solemnity〃a　card
with　my　real　name；　my　titles；　offices；　and　true　purpose　on　this　earth。〃

He　drew　out　slowly　from　an　upper　waistcoat　pocket　a　scarlet
card…case；　and　as　slowly　produced　a　very　large　card。
Even　in　the　instant　of　its　production；　they　fancied　it　was
of　a　queer　shape；　unlike　the　cards　of　ordinary　gentlemen。
But　it　was　there　only　for　an　instant；　for　as　it　passed　from
his　fingers　to　Arthur's；　one　or　another　slipped　his　hold。
The　strident；　tearing　gale　in　that　garden　carried　away
the　stranger's　card　to　join　the　wild　waste　paper　of　the　universe；
and　that　great　western　wind　shook　the　whole　house　and　passed。




　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Chapter　II

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　The　Luggage　of　an　Optimist


We　all　remember　the　fairy　tales　of　science　in　our　infancy；　which　played
with　the　supposition　that　large　animals　could　jump　in　the　proportion
of　small　ones。　　If　an　elephant　were　as　strong　as　a　grasshopper；　he　could
（I　suppose）　spring　clean　out　of　the　Zoological　Gardens　and　alight
trumpeting　upon　Primrose　Hill。　　If　a　whale　could　leap　from　the　sea
like　a　trout；　perhaps　men　might　look　up　and　see　one　soaring　above
Yarmouth　like　the　winged　island　of　Laputa。　　Such　natural　energy；
though　sublime；　might　certainly　be　inconvenient；　and　much　of　this
inconvenience　attended　the　gaiety　and　good　intentions　of　the　man　in　green。
He　was　too　large　for　everything；　because　he　was　lively　as　well　as　large。
By　a　fortunate　physical　provision；　m