New Amazonia: A Foretaste of the FutureCorbett, George, Mrs.
Science
New Amazonia: A Foretaste of the Future
Corbett, George, Mrs.
Amazons -- Fiction; Fantasy fiction; Feminism -- Fiction; Women -- Fiction
“Upon my life,” he grumbled discontentedly, “one gets no peace in this
miserable place. Only yesterday I was asked in cold blood to select some
way of earning my own livelihood. Me! who never had even to dress myself
without assistance until I came to this benighted land. And, now, you
come and rouse me at this unconscionable time. I would like to catch a
servant of ours seizing me by the shoulder and making me get up at this
time in the morning, like that fellow did just now. I would not only
have packed him about his business, but would have refused him a
character into the bargain. But in this confounded country there is no
freedom. One cannot do as one likes and an impudent boot cleaner
actually presumes to dictate to a Fitz-Musicus! And then the women are
such fools, too. They cannot appreciate a good chance when they get it.
I have proposed to no less than six of them, and what do you think they
all did? Nothing but laugh, upon my word! They didn’t believe that I
really meant to throw myself away upon them, and when I tried to
convince them that I was actually in earnest, they just grew more dense
and unbelieving, and laughed all the more. An Englishwoman would have
sense enough to jump at such an offer, and I don’t think I shall demean
myself by proposing to another New Amazonian.”
“I don’t think I would,” I rejoined as gravely as I could. “They do not
know how to appreciate you. Still, I think that you are not quite fair
to the land of your adoption. Personally, I have found nothing to
grumble at.”
“Oh! with you it is different. You see I have been used to every
consideration all my life long, while you have never been anything but a
mere nobody.”
“Precisely so. But you will forgive me, if I remark that your sense of
personal importance is running away with your discretion, and is likely
to lead you into trouble.”
“How do you make that out?”
“Very easily. It is what has brought me to see you now. Listen——.”
And then I did my best to explain the dangers of his position, and the
folly of persisting in his present course of discontent and
eccentricity.
“If you do not mind,” I concluded seriously, “you will be treated to a
strong dose of Medicated Schlafstrank some of these days, and then where
will you be?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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