The Gay Gnani of Gingalee; or, Discords of Devolution: A Tragical Entanglement of Modern Mysticism and Modern ScienceHuntley, Florence
Religion
The Gay Gnani of Gingalee; or, Discords of Devolution: A Tragical Entanglement of Modern Mysticism and Modern Science
Huntley, Florence
Mysticism -- Humor; Religion and science -- Fiction
“Oh, Bosh!” growled Bill. “All that sounds very fine, in your measly
old Sanscrit; but you stole her just the same, and that’s plain United
States. And now, Mr. Mystic,”--and the angry husband shut his teeth
with a savage click--“you must know that outraged confidence will seek
revenge. That’s your karma, ain’t it, Mr. Alonzo Leffingwell, Gnani
of Gingalee, and Grand High Muckymuck of the Order of Nowhere? I’ve
got you, and I’ve got you in your own trap. You’re hoist by your own
petard. You went in for Science, and so did I. Science is going to
settle this dispute, and you’re about to learn that nature has
_several_ laws. Oh, pusillanimous pirate of the air, you are about to
realize that invention is the hand-maid of justice, and that science
is--the--mother-in-law--of--doom.”
“How,--what,--Bill,--I do not comprehend,” murmured Mr. Leffingwell
perplexedly, as he disappeared slowly through the ceiling in response
to the faint current with which Bill was now holding him.
“No?”--queried Bill sarcastically as the gentleman reappeared. “Then
there are, after all, some few things you don’t comprehend. Well,
then--” and the druggist drew himself up with calm ferocity--“I will
enlighten you. Hear then my pronunciamento. You’ve been weighed in
the balance and found wanting--everything that didn’t rightfully
belong to you; and because of that I, your self-appointed judge and
executioner, have resolved--upon--your--complete--annihilation.”
“A-n-n-i-h-i-l-a-t-i-o-n-!”
“A-n-n-i-h-i-l-a-t-i-o-n-!”
The mournful tenor of the Mystic mingled with the high C of his
primordial Mate.
“Yes, just that”--burst forth the druggist savagely. “When I
discovered that you were not only dead to the proprieties and deaf to
appeals, but that you were impervious to boot-jacks and bullets, I set
to thinking as to the best manner of dealing with the situation. When
I saw you chipper as a lark when impaled on a carving knife, I
realized the insufficiency of brute force. It was then that I turned
to science and planned for this my long sought and well earned
R-E-V-E-N-G-E.”
This last word came out in a long hissing whisper, the which is so
effective upon the stage.
The Seer was now staring at the druggist in open faced dismay. Imogene
was whimpering softly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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