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!
the Blackfriars。
I heard the paper's name with a queer little shock and surveyed the
man with interest。 No doubt he was only a successor of the purveyor
of discords who darkened my boyhood。 It was amazing to find an
influence so terrible embodied in a creature so palpably petty。 He
was seated some way down a table at right angles to the one at which
I sat; a man of mean appearance with a greyish complexion; thin;
with a square nose; a heavy wiry moustache and a big Adam's apple
sticking out between the wings of his collar。 He ate with
considerable appetite and unconcealed relish; and as his jaw was
underhung; he chummed and made the moustache wave like reeds in the
swell of a steamer。 It gave him a conscientious look。 After dinner
he a little forced himself upon me。 At that time; though the shadow
of my scandal was already upon me; I still seemed to be shaping for
great successes; and he was glad to be in conversation with me and
anxious to intimate political sympathy and support。 I tried to make
him talk of the HOME CHURCHMAN and the kindred publications he ran;
but he was manifestly ashamed of his job so far as I was concerned。
〃One wants;〃 he said; pitching himself as he supposed in my key; 〃to
put constructive ideas into our readers; but they are narrow; you
know; very narrow。 Very。〃 He made his moustache and lips express
judicious regret。 〃One has to consider them carefully; one has to
respect their attitudes。 One dare not go too far with them。 One
has to feel one's way。〃
He chummed and the moustache bristled。
A hireling; beyond question; catering for a demand。 I gathered
there was a home in Tufnell Park; and three boys to be fed and
clothed and educated。 。 。 。
I had the curiosity to buy a copy of his magazine afterwards; and it
seemed much the same sort of thing that had worried my mother in my
boyhood。 There was the usual Christian hero; this time with mutton…
chop whiskers and a long bare upper lip。 The Jesuits; it seemed;
were still hard at it; and Heaven frightfully upset about the Sunday
opening of museums and the falling birth…rate; and as touchy and
vindictive as ever。 There were two vigorous paragraphs upon the
utter damnableness of the Rev。 R。 J。 Campbell; a contagious
damnableness I gathered; one wasn't safe within a mile of Holborn
Viaduct; and a foul…mouthed attack on poor little Wilkins the
novelistwho was being baited by the moralists at that time for
making one of his big women characters; not being in holy wedlock;
desire a baby and say so。 。 。 。
The broadening of human thought is a slow and complex process。 We
do go on; we do get on。 But when one thinks that people are living
and dying now; quarrelling and sulking; misled and misunderstanding;
vaguely fearful; condemning and thwarting one another in the close
darknesses of these narrow cultsOh; God! one wants a gale out of
Heaven; one wants a great wind from the sea!
3
While I lived at Penge two little things happened to me; trivial in
themselves and yet in their quality profoundly significant。 They
had this in common; that they pierced the texture of the life I was
quietly taking for granted and let me see through it into realities
realities I had indeed known about before but never realised。 Each
of these experiences left me with a sense of shock; with all the
values in my life perplexingly altered; attempting readjustment。
One of these disturbing and illuminating events was that I was
robbed of a new pocket…knife and the other that I fell in love。 It
was altogether surprising to me to be robbed。 You see; as an only
child I had always been fairly well looked after and protected; and
the result was an amazing confidence in the practical goodness of
the people one met in the world。 I knew there were robbers in the
world; just as I knew there were tigers; that I was ever likely to
meet robber or tiger face to face seemed equally impossible。
The knife as I remember it was a particularly jolly one with all
sorts of instruments in it; tweezers and a thing for getting a stone
out of the hoof of a horse; and a corkscrew; it had cost me a
carefuly accumulated half…crown; and amounted indeed to a new
experience in knives。 I had had it for two or three days; and then
one afternoon I dropped it through a hole in my pocket on a footpath
crossing a field between Penge and Anerley。 I heard it fall in the
way one does without at the time appreciating what had happened;
then; later; before I got home; when my hand wandered into my pocket
to embrace the still dear new possession I found it gone; and
instantly that memory of something hitting the ground sprang up into
consciousness。 I went back and commenced a search。 Almost
immediately I was accosted by the leader of a little gang of four or
five extremely dirty and ragged boys of assorted sizes and slouching
carriage who were coming from the Anerley direction。
〃Lost anythink; Matey?〃 said he。
I explained。
〃'E's dropped 'is knife;〃 said my interlocutor; and joined in the
search。
〃What sort of 'andle was it; Matey?〃 said a small white…faced
sniffing boy in a big bowler hat。
I supplied the information。 His sharp little face scrutinised the
ground about us。
〃GOT it;〃 he said; and pounced。
〃Give it 'ere;〃 said the big boy hoarsely; and secured it。
I walked towards him serenely confident that he would hand it over
to me; and that all was for the best in the best of all possible
worlds。
〃No bloomin' fear!〃 he said; regarding me obliquely。 〃Oo said it
was your knife?〃
Remarkable doubts assailed me。 〃Of course it's my knife;〃 I said。
The other boys gathered round me。
〃This ain't your knife;〃 said the big boy; and spat casually。
〃I dropped it just now。〃
〃Findin's keepin's; I believe;〃 said the big boy。
〃Nonsense;〃 I said。 〃Give me my knife。〃
〃'Ow many blades it got?〃
〃Three。〃
〃And what sort of 'andle?〃
〃Bone。〃
〃Got a corkscrew like?〃
〃Yes。〃
〃Ah! This ain't your knife no'ow。 See?〃
He made no offer to show it to me。 My breath went。
〃Look here!〃 I said。 〃I saw that kid pick it up。 It IS my knife。〃
〃Rot!〃 said the big boy; and slowly; deliberately put my knife into
his trouser pocket。
I braced my soul for battle。 All civilisation was behind me; but I
doubt if it kept the colour in my face。 I buttoned my jacket and
clenched my fists and advanced on my antagonisthe had; I suppose;
the advantage of two years of age and three inches of height。 〃Hand
over that knife;〃 I said。
Then one of the smallest of the band assailed me with extraordinary
vigour and swiftness from behind; had an arm round my neck and a
knee in my back before I had the slightest intimation of attack; and
so got me down。 〃I got 'im; Bill;〃 squeaked this amazing little
ruffian。 My nose was flattened by a dirty hand; and as I struck out
and hit something like sacking; some one kicked my elbow。 Two or
three seemed to be at me at the same time。 Then I rolled over and
sat up to discover them all making off; a ragged flight; footballing
my cap; my City Merchants' cap; amongst them。 I leapt to my feet in
a passion of indignation and pursued them。
But I did not overtake them。 We are beings of mixed composition;
and I doubt if mine was a single…minded pursuit。 I knew that honour
required me to pursue; and I had a vivid impression of having just
been down in the dust with a very wiry and active and dirty little
antagonist of disagreeable odour and incredible and incalculable
unscrupulousness; kneeling on me and gripping my arm and neck。 I
wanted of course to be even with him; but also I doubted if catching
him would necessarily involve that。 They kicked my cap into the
ditch at the end of the field; and made off compactly along a cinder
lane while I turned aside to recover my dishonoured headdress。 As I
knocked the dust out of that and out of my jacket; and brushed my
knees and readjusted my very crumpled collar; I tried to focus this
startling occurrence in my mind。
I had vague ideas of going to a policeman or of complaining at a
police station; but some boyish instinct against informing prevented
that。 No doubt I entertained ideas of vindictive pursuit and
murderous reprisals。 And I was acutely enraged whenever I thought
of my knife。 The thing indeed rankled in my mind for weeks and
weeks; and altered all the flavour of my world for me。 It was the
first time I glimpsed the simple brute violence that lurks and peeps
beneath our civilisation。 A certain kindly complacency of attitude
towards the palpably lower classes was qualified for ever
4
But the other experience was still more cardinal。 It was the first
clear intimation of