Chapter 2

The small boy's ambition was to grow up and be an iceman.

The small boy grew up and became a famous vaudeville clog dancer.

The great man now often thinks back and smiles to himself at the grotesque absurdity of a small boy's idea of a career.

LII

CONTRETEMPS

An artist, wandering along the highway of a city, with his eyes on the stars, tripped over something, fell and was crippled.

It was a purse of gold.

LIII

DRAMATIC CRITICISM

Two gentlemen of the assizes met one evening upon the highway with a dog. The dog, a friendly creature, barked amiably at the gentlemen, whereupon the twain smiled and bent to pat the dog. Stooping thus, one of the gentlemen issued suddenly a cry of alarm.

"Fie!" he cried to his colleague, "I see upon the creature's hide a flea!"

The other adjusted his glass and scrutinized the beast closely.

"That," he observed, with the mien of one not to be contradicted, "that, sir, is not a flea. That is a louse!"

LIV

NEPENTHE

"I think I'll take a few drinks to make me forget my troubles," said the poor man.

The drinks made the poor man forget his troubles and filled him instead with delightful visions of sunny lands and blue skies and red poppies and fair women and languorous luxury.

And the poor man, now unhappier than before, had to expend his last three sous for spirits of ammonia wherewith to recapture the nepenthe of his first troubles.

LV

ECCE HOMO

A homely woman smiled at a man. And the man, puzzled and speculating what was wrong with him, slouched on.

A pretty woman smiled at a man. And the man, with the mien of a cock, threw out his chest and strutted on.

LVI

THE ACTOR

A poet, poor and neglected, lived up under the dusty eaves, with for sole companion a parrot. One day, the poet evolved a particularly lovely line and, in his happiness, repeated it to himself aloud, and time upon time.

A week later, some portly persons, passing beneath the lofty window, espied the parrot perched upon the sill and heard it speak the poet's line. Breathless with amazement, they stopped and cried out: "What a _wonderful_ bird!"

LVII

VADE MECUM

An infatuated young man sought counsel at the bazaar of an ancient and prayed the ancient tell him how he might learn of his fair lady's faults.

"Go forth among her women friends," spake the venerable one, "and praise her in their hearing."

LVIII

BUTTERFLIES

A man beheld a butterfly and, catching her, held her in his hands and feasted his eyes upon her prettiness. But as he held her so, the pollen rubbed off her wings and she fluttered, a pitiable thing, weakly from his grasp.

A man beheld a butterfly and, catching her, held her in his arms and feasted his eyes upon her prettiness. But as he held her so, the powder rubbed off her nose and....

LIX

BOOMERANG

There was a critic--a sincere and art-loving man--who flouted the mob's taste, who inveighed against the popular, who protested vigorously against the low, mean art form that in dramatic shape packed nightly the playhouses of the great city with the unesthetic, artistically depraved and vulgar bourgeoisie. That things should come to so unholy a pass, he sighed.

The critic never stopped to consider that the journal which he graced had in the great city a daily circulation of half a million.

LX

ADVICE

"Beware," warned the Mind, solemnly.

The Heart, whistling a gay tune, cocked its hat upon one ear, gave a twist to its cravat, and kicked the old savant down stairs.

LXI

PASTEL

"If only I had his youth!" sighed the old gentleman looking out of the window of his halted limousine at the young man standing in the roadway.

"If only I had his experience!" sighed the young man standing in the crowded roadway looking at the old gentleman through the window of the halted limousine.

"If only they'd get a move on and let a man do his work!" said the middle-aged street-sweep, smacking his lips over the fine flavour of his chewing tobacco and taking a deep breath of the keen autumn air.

LXII

IMITATIONS

Resplendent in silks and furs and a marvelous necklace of diamonds, she sat with superior mien in an opera box. Now and again, with an air of infinite ennui and disdain, she glanced coolly aloft through her lorgnette at the eager poor in the steep, high altitudes of the galleries.

The people in the great opera house whispered to one another that the marvelous necklace of diamonds was unquestionably an imitation. "Somehow," they said, "it looks like one." But they were wrong. The necklace of diamonds was quite genuine. It was not the necklace of diamonds, but the lady that was the imitation.

LXIII

THE COQUETTE

A rose, an orchid and a little white clover were pressed between the leaves of a coquette's diary.

"She loves me more than she loves either of you," cried the rose, "because I am the first flower my master ever gave her!"

"She loves me more than she loves either of you," protested the orchid, "because I am the last flower _my_ master ever gave her!"

The little white clover smiled to itself and said nothing. For the little white clover knew that its mistress had picked it herself.

LXIV

MOONLIGHT

It was in the late Springtime. And they were very young.

The young man sighed, "Ah, if the night were only fair, that we might sit close together, you and I, in the moonlight."

It was in the late Springtime. And they were very young.

The young moth sighed, "Ah, if the night were only fair, that they might go out into the moonlight and leave the screen doors open that we might play close together, you and I, in the gaslight."

LXV

THE ETERNAL MASCULINE

"Whatever happens, wherever I go, wherever I am, I shall think of you," he said as he drew her to him and kissed her goodbye.

Three days out at sea he met another. And that night on the silver hurricane deck, under shelter of the life boats, true to his word and promise, he thought of her. He thought how cold her kisses were compared with those of this lovely creature.

LXVI

SATIRE

The new battleship trembled in the ways, ready to glide into the sea.

The girl cracked a bottle of champagne over its bow and said in measured and serious tones: "I christen thee--'_Kansas_'!"

LXVII

GLORY

The young private, dreaming dreams of valour and glory, awaited eagerly his chance.

The enemy was daily coming nearer, nearer, and the dreams of the young private grew vivid and rosier still.

One morning, before dawn, the General telegraphed the Lieutenant-General to telegraph the Brigadier-General to telegraph the Colonel to telegraph the Lieutenant-Colonel to telegraph the Major to heliograph the Captain to telephone the First-Lieutenant to telephone the Second-Lieutenant to signal the Sergeant to tell the Corporal to command the private to charge!

The young private, at the order, dashed forward and was among the thousands who fell, still adream, in the capture of the hill that won for the General his nineteenth successive imperial cross.

LXVIII

ROMANCE

There were many ardent suitors for her hand. And they sent her orchids and violets and lilies and roses. All save one, a poor young fellow, who sent her but a simple little bunch of daisies.

She married the man who sent orchids.

LXIX

THE SPIDER AND THE FLY

"Won't you come into my parlour?" said the spider to the fly.

"What nice hair you have," said the woman to the man.

LXX

VERITAS

The king was desirous of obtaining the most truthful man of his court for Lord of the domain's Exchequer. One by one the king had tested the aspirants and one by one had consigned each in his turn to the headsman; for they had all proved themselves liars. Three, and three only, remained.

Said the king to the first of these, "Have, you ever in all your life written, or tried to write, a poem?"

"No, your majesty," replied the fellow.

Whereupon the king signaled promptly the headsman.

Said the king to the second of these, "Can you sit in a rocking-chair without rocking?"

"Yes, your majesty," replied the fellow.

Whereupon the king signaled promptly the headsman.

Said the king to the third of these, "Have you ever used a hair tonic of any kind?"

"No, your majesty, never!" replied the fellow.

Whereupon the king signaled promptly the headsman.

And to this day the post of Lord of the Exchequer is vacant.

LXXI

THE REFORMER

The Great Uplifter died and stood before Saint Peter.

"Alas," said Saint Peter, "I cannot let you in."

"But why?" demanded the Great Uplifter. "For surely I have been a good and striving man."

"Just so," answered Saint Peter. "You have been a good and striving man and you must be rewarded with happiness. Here, where all are happy, you would be unhappy, for here would be no work for your hands to do."

And that is how the Great Uplifter happened to go to hell.

LXXII

FATALISM

The stock-broker's wife, mother of six children and portly, was a fatalist. "Why worry?" she was wont to say. "When the time comes for me to die, it will come properly enough, and that's all there is to it."

That afternoon, she was run over by a brewery wagon while on her way to see a singing teacher about having her voice cultivated.

LXXIII

TECHNIQUE

The star actor, unable to restrain his mirth at the astounding satin decollete worn by his leading woman in the scene where she, a street waif, pleads with him to give her a farthing that she and her widowed mother may not starve, turned his back to the audience. So uncontrollable were his chuckles that his shoulders heaved up and down, and his head shook, and his neck got red, and his eyes watered.

"A master of the acting technique," thought the audience. "How wonderfully he expresses the emotional outburst of grief!"

LXXIV

FINIS

Somewhere, a funeral bell was tolling.

Somewhere, a thousand and one miles away, a woman was asking her lover for the third time in five minutes if he really loved her.

* * * * *

Transcriber's note

The following changes have been made to the text:

Page 5: "Immorality" changed to "Immortality".

Page 6: "Scholar" changed to "The Scholar".

Page 6: "Grotesqueries" changed to "Grotesquerie".

Page 78: "stood be fore" changed to "stood before".

End of Project Gutenberg's A Book Without A Title, by George Jean Nathan