The Bed-Book of Happiness: Being a colligation or assemblage of cheerful writings brought together from many quarters into this one compass for the diversion, distraction, and delight of those who lie abed,—a friend to the invalid, a companion to the sleepless, an excuse to the tiredBegbie, Harold
General
The Bed-Book of Happiness: Being a colligation or assemblage of cheerful writings brought together from many quarters into this one compass for the diversion, distraction, and delight of those who lie abed,—a friend to the invalid, a companion to the sleepless, an excuse to the tired
Begbie, Harold
Literature -- Collections
"Elegant economy!" How naturally one falls back into the phraseology of
Cranford! There, economy was always "elegant," and money-spending always
"vulgar and ostentatious"; a sort of sour-grapeism which made us very
peaceful and satisfied. I never shall forget the dismay felt when a
certain Captain Brown came to live at Cranford and openly spoke about
his being poor--not in a whisper to an intimate friend, the doors and
windows being previously closed, but in the public street! in a loud
military voice! alleging his poverty as a reason for not taking a
particular house. The ladies of Cranford were already rather moaning
over the invasion of their territories by a man and a gentleman. He was
a half-pay captain, and had obtained some situation on a neighbouring
railroad, which had been vehemently petitioned against by the little
town; and if, in addition to his masculine gender, and his connection
with the obnoxious railroad, he was so brazen as to talk of being
poor--why then, indeed, he must be sent to Coventry.... We had tacitly
agreed to ignore that any with whom we associated on terms of visiting
equality could ever be prevented by poverty from doing anything that
they wished. If we walked to or from a party, it was because the night
was so fine, or the air so refreshing, not because sedan-chairs were
expensive. If we wore prints instead of summer silks, it was because we
preferred a washing material; and so on, till we blinded ourselves to
the vulgar fact that we were, all of us, people of very moderate means.
Of course, then, we did not know what to make of a man who could speak
of poverty as if it was not a disgrace. Yet, somehow, Captain Brown made
himself respected in Cranford, and was called upon, in spite of all
resolutions to the contrary. I was surprised to hear his opinions quoted
as authority at a visit which I paid to Cranford about a year after he
had settled in the town. My old friends had been among the bitterest
opponents of any proposal to visit the captain and his daughters, only
twelve months before; and now he was even admitted in the tabooed hours
before twelve. True, it was to discover the cause of a smoking chimney,
before the fire was lighted; but still Captain Brown walked upstairs,
nothing daunted, spoke in a voice too large for the room, and joked
quite in the way of a tame man about the house. He had been blind to all
the small slights, and omissions of trivial ceremonies, with which he
had been received. He had been friendly, though the Cranford ladies had
been cool; he had answered small sarcastic compliments in good faith;
and, with his manly frankness, had overpowered all the shrinking which
met him as a man who was not ashamed to be poor. And, at last, his
excellent masculine common sense and his facility in devising expedients
to overcome domestic dilemmas had gained him an extraordinary place as
authority among the Cranford ladies. He himself went on in his course as
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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