“And so there IS a whale on the premises for all you know,” asseverated
Smith, striking the table with passion. “I bet you’ve never examined
the premises! I bet you’ve never been round at the back as I was this
morning— for I found the very thing you say could only grow on a tree.
There’s an old sort of square tent up against the dustbin; it’s got
three holes in the canvas, and a pole’s broken, so it’s not much good
as a tent, but as a Canopy—” And his voice quite failed him to express
its shining adequacy; then he went on with controversial eagerness:
“You see I take every challenge as you make it. I believe every blessed
thing you say couldn’t be here has been here all the time. You say you
want a whale washed up for oil. Why, there’s oil in that cruet-stand at
your elbow; and I don’t believe anybody has touched it or thought of it
for years. And as for your gold crown, we’re none of us wealthy here,
but we could collect enough ten-shilling bits from our own pockets to
string round a man’s head for half an hour; or one of Miss Hunt’s gold
bangles is nearly big enough to—”
The good-humoured Rosamund was almost choking with laughter. “All is
not gold that glitters,” she said, “and besides—”
“What a mistake that is!” cried Innocent Smith, leaping up in great
excitement. “All is gold that glitters— especially now we are a
Sovereign State. What’s the good of a Sovereign State if you can’t
define a sovereign? We can make anything a precious metal, as men could
in the morning of the world. They didn’t choose gold because it was
rare; your scientists can tell you twenty sorts of slime much rarer.
They chose gold because it was bright—because it was a hard thing to
find, but pretty when you’ve found it. You can’t fight with golden
swords or eat golden biscuits; you can only look at it—and you can look
at it out here.”
With one of his incalculable motions he sprang back and burst open the
doors into the garden. At the same time also, with one of his gestures
that never seemed at the instant so unconventional as they were, he
stretched out his hand to Mary Gray, and led her out on to the lawn as
if for a dance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account