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pleads to him for one last favour： that he will go away where
neither she nor anybody else of any importance will ever see him or
hear of him again。 That's all she asks of him。 If he make a point
of it she willthough her costume is ill adapted to the exercisego
down upon her knees to ask it of him。
He brutally retorts that he doesn't know where to 〃get。〃 The lady
travels round a good deal and seems to be in most places。 She
accepts week…end invitations to the houses of his nearest relatives。
She has married his first cousin； and is now getting up a bazaar with
the help of his present wife。 How he is to avoid her he does not
quite see。
Perhaps； by the by； that is really the Problem： where is the early
husband to disappear to？ Even if every time he saw her coming he
were to duck under the table； somebody would be sure to notice it and
make remarks。 Ought he to take himself out one dark night； tie a
brick round his neck； and throw himself into a pond？
＇What is a Lady to do with a Husband when she has finished with him？＇
But men are so selfish。 The idea does not even occur to him； and the
lady herself is too generous to do more than just hint at it。
Maybe it is Society that is to blame。 There comes a luminous moment
when it is suddenly revealed to the Heroine of the Problem Play that
it is Society that is at the bottom of this thing。 She has felt all
along there was something the matter。 Why has she never thought of
it before？ Here all these years has she been going about blaming her
poor old father； her mother for dying too soon； the remarkable
circumstances attending her girlhood； that dear old stupid husband
she thought was hers； and all the while the really culpable party has
been existing unsuspected under her very nose。 She clears away the
furniture a bit； and tells Society exactly what she thinks of itshe
is always good at that； telling people what she thinks of them。
Other people's failings do not escape her； not for long。 If Society
would only step out for a moment； and look at itself with her eyes；
something might be done。 If Society； now that the thing has been
pointed out to it； has still any lingering desire to live； let it
look at her。 This； that she is； Society has made her！ Let Society
have a walk round her； and then go home and reflect。
＇Could sheherselfhave been to blame？＇
It lifts a load from us； fixing the blame on Society。 There were
periods in the play when we hardly knew what to think。 The
scientific father； the dead mother； the early husband！ it was
difficult to grasp the fact that they alone were to blame。 One felt
there was something to be said for even them。 Ugly thoughts would
cross our mind that perhaps the Heroine herself was not altogether
irreproachablethat possibly there would have been less Problem； if；
thinking a little less about her clothes； yearning a little less to
do nothing all day long and be perfectly happy； she had pulled
herself together； told herself that the world was not built
exclusively for her； and settled down to the existence of an ordinary
decent woman。
Looking at the thing all round； that is perhaps the best solution of
the Problem： it is Society that is to blame。 We had better keep to
that。
CHAPTER IX
＇Civilization and the Unemployed。＇
Where Civilization fails is in not providing men and women with
sufficient work。 In the Stone Age man was； one imagines； kept busy。
When he was not looking for his dinner； or eating his dinner； or
sleeping off the effects of his dinner； he was hard at work with a
club； clearing the neighbourhood of what one doubts not he would have
described as aliens。 The healthy Palaeolithic man would have had a
contempt for Cobden rivalling that of Mr。 Chamberlain himself。 He
did not take the incursion of the foreigner 〃lying down。〃 One
pictures him in the mind's eye： unscientific； perhaps； but active to
a degree difficult to conceive in these degenerate days。 Now up a
tree hurling cocoa…nuts； the next moment on the ground flinging roots
and rocks。 Both having tolerably hard heads； the argument would of
necessity be long and heated。 Phrases that have since come to be
meaningless had； in those days； a real significance。
When a Palaeolithic politician claimed to have 〃crushed his critic；〃
he meant that he had succeeded in dropping a tree or a ton of earth
upon him。 When it was said that one bright and intelligent member of
that early sociology had 〃annihilated his opponent；〃 that opponent's
friends and relations took no further interest in him。 It meant that
he was actually annihilated。 Bits of him might be found； but the
most of him would be hopelessly scattered。 When the adherents of any
particular Cave Dweller remarked that their man was wiping the floor
with his rival； it did not mean that he was talking himself red in
the face to a bored audience of sixteen friends and a reporter。 It
meant that he was dragging that rival by the legs round the enclosure
and making the place damp and untidy with him。
＇Early instances of 〃Dumping。〃＇
Maybe the Cave Dweller； finding nuts in his own neighbourhood growing
scarce； would emigrate himself： for even in that age the politician
was not always logical。 Thus roles became reversed。 The defender of
his country became the alien； dumping himself where he was not
wanted。 The charm of those early political arguments lay in their
simplicity。 A child could have followed every point。 There could
never have been a moment's doubt； even among his own followers； as to
what a Palaeolithic statesman really meant to convey。 At the close
of the contest the party who considered it had won the moral victory
would be cleared away； or buried neatly on the spot； according to
taste： and the discussion； until the arrival of the next generation；
was voted closed。
All this must have been harassing； but it did serve to pass away the
time。 Civilization has brought into being a section of the community
with little else to do but to amuse itself。 For youth to play is
natural； the young barbarian plays； the kitten plays； the colt
gambols； the lamb skips。 But man is the only animal that gambols and
jumps and skips after it has reached maturity。 Were we to meet an
elderly bearded goat； springing about in the air and behaving；
generally speaking； like a kid； we should say it had gone mad。 Yet
we throng in our thousands to watch elderly ladies and gentlemen
jumping about after a ball； twisting themselves into strange shapes；
rushing； racing； falling over one another； and present them with
silver…backed hair…brushes and gold…handled umbrellas as a reward to
them for doing so。
Imagine some scientific inhabitant of one of the larger fixed stars
examining us through a magnifying…glass as we examine ants。 Our
amusements would puzzle him。 The ball of all sorts and sizes； from
the marble to the pushball； would lead to endless scientific
argument。
〃What is it？ Why are these men and women always knocking it about；
seizing it wherever and whenever they find it and worrying it？〃
The observer from that fixed star would argue that the Ball must be
some malignant creature of fiendish power； the great enemy of the
human race。 Watching our cricket…fields； our tennis…courts； our golf
links； he would conclude that a certain section of mankind had been
told off to do battle with the 〃Ball〃 on behalf of mankind in
general。
〃As a rule；〃 so he would report； 〃it is a superior class of insect to
which this special duty has been assigned。 They are a friskier；
gaudier species than their fellows。
＇Cricket； as viewed from the fixed Stars。＇
〃For this one purpose they appear to be kept and fed。 They do no
other work； so far as I have been able to ascertain。 Carefully
selected and trained； their mission is to go about the world looking
for Balls。 Whenever they find a Ball they set to work to kill it。
But the vitality of these Balls is extraordinary。 There is a medium…
sized； reddish species that； on an average； takes three days to kill。
When one of these is discovered； specially trained champions are
summoned from every corner of the country。 They arrive in hot haste；
eager for the battle； which takes place in the presence of the entire
neighbourhood。 The number of champions for some reason or another is
limited to twenty…two。 Each one seizing in turn a large piece of
wood； rushes at the Ball as it flies along the ground； or through the
air； and strikes at it with all his force。 When； exhausted； he can
strike no longer； he throws down his weapon and retires into a tent；
where he is restored to strength by copious draughts of a drug the
nature of which I have been unable to discover。 Meanwhile； another
has picked up the fallen weapon； and the contest is continued without
a moment's interruption。 The Ball makes frantic efforts to escape
from its tormentors； but every time it is captured and flung back。
So far as can be observed； it makes no attempt at retaliation； its
only object being to get away； though； occasionallyw