which--need one remark?--is intended for what the Scots are supposed to call "wut." Also, there is _He Stopped_: Pendlebury Plum had a wart on his gum, And he rubbed it with sand-paper hard; The wart on his gum made Plum fairly hum, When it stuck out about half a yard. The wart grew so quick, when he rubbed it with a brick, Till it looked like a short billiard-cue; Said Plum to himself, "I shall die on the shelf, For I'm darned if I know what to do." So he went and got a pick-axe and shov'd it underneath, Then he lifted up his jaw, and he swallowed all his teeth; Then he stopped! The verses I have quoted are a good, true, and fair sample of the kind of thing that finds favour among the English masses. I do not think that anything better is being proffered, and it is pretty certain that anything less inane would be doomed to failure. The fact is that the English mind in the lump is flat, coarse, and maggoty, and the English understanding is as the understanding of a feeble and ill-bred child. A couple of generations ago the songs popular among Englishmen had some claim to coherence, decency, and common sense; nowadays, however, the Englishman admits that "he cannot sing the old songs." He has gone farther and fared worse, and among the many symptoms of his decadence, none is more pronounced than his easy toleration of the balderdash that is being served up to him by the "'alls." CHAPTER XX STOCK EXCHANGE There is nothing in England more astounding or more tigerish than the city man. Englishmen have a fixed idea that they are the soul of generosity, indifferent to money, and not in the least sordid. When they are put to it for a type of sheer greediness it pleases them to point a finger at the Scot. Yet there can be no doubt that of late years the desire for riches has become the absorbing English passion. The ostentation and vulgar displays of the aristocracy and the newly rich have stirred the middle-class English heart to envy. How comes it that such and such a man sleeps on lilies and eats roses? He has "means," my friend. And what are "means"? Just money. If you are going to be happy in this life, if you insist upon a full paunch of the choicest--upon the ease and softness which are so grateful to decadent persons, if you would be in a position to possess all that the soul of the decadent person covets, you really must have money. And as you are a middle class Englishman whose people have omitted to leave you a million or so, it is very awkward for you. Life is short; the cup goes round but once.