“In acknowledgment, dear madam,” said the shabby gentleman, “that I am not what I was.” “What were you?” asked Ginger. “A Professor, madam.” “And what are you?” asked Gypsy. “At the moment, sir, I am Contradictor of Rumours.” “You contradict them on my roofs!” cried Gypsy. “I have that honour, sir,” said the ex-Professor. [Illustration: 9. The Professor of Neglected Accomplishments GYPSY AND GINGER’S FRIENDS] “It was you,” said Gypsy, “who contradicted the rumour that the Kilburn Tennis-club was to re-roof itself in Horsham Slate?” “The most beautiful of all roofings, sir. Yes, it was I.” “It was you,” said Gypsy, “who refuted the suggestion that the Noncomformist Chapels should return to Ancient Greece----” “In the matter of architecture, sir. That also was I.” “It was you,” continued Gypsy, “who denied the unfounded report that the tops of the Whitechapel Shelters were to be converted into Hanging-Gardens.” “Myself, sir, and no other.” “Who said there _were_ to be Hanging-Gardens in Whitechapel?” asked Gypsy. “Nobody, sir.” “Then why do you say there are _not_ to be?” “Well, it’s true, sir, isn’t it?” “It’s so true,” said Gypsy, “that why waste paint on it?” “Because,” said the ex-Professor, “no truth can resist persistent denial for ever. That is--yes, I fear I am getting mixed. But have you not observed how the newspapers will frequently force a statement on you, or at least lodge a suspicion in you, by contradicting some rumour of which you’ve never heard until they say it isn’t true? The affirmation was negative, the denial is positive. When they’ve denied it long enough, day after day, in every column from the Leaders to the Book Reviews, it becomes an unshakeable fact. I am at present devoting my life to establishing rumours by denying them. Once public opinion swallows them, the rest is automatic. I have energetically denied the rumour, for instance, of a Red Noah’s Ark in Bermondsey. It would cheer Bermondsey greatly. And before long I really hope to see in Whitechapel those Hanging Gardens, which, as I have repeatedly stated, are not for one instant under consideration by anybody.” “What a tophole idea!” said Gypsy. “The credit is not all mine, sir,” said the ex-Professor. “Let us give the newspapers their due. Contradicting the Rumour is one of the more modern accomplishments, and smacks of modern manners; in other days we should have preferred Dallying with the Notion, but we cannot look for the old-world polish in the newspaper of to-day. If it has not the culture of the Eighteenth Century, it does not lack dexterity; and in the art of Forcing the Statement it is as deft as a conjuror with a pack of cards. Yet--a vulgar art!” The ex-Professor sighed. “I never taught it myself.” “What _did_ you teach?” asked Ginger curiously. “A hundred activities and accomplishments which are now treated in the most perfunctory fashion, madam. Have you ever, may I ask, Risen to the Occasion?” “Never,” said Ginger.