The Green MouseChambers, Robert W. (Robert William)
General
The Green Mouse
Chambers, Robert W. (Robert William)
Courtship -- Fiction; Fantasy fiction; Magic -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction
Utterly unequipped for anything except to ornament his environment, the
crash in Steel stunned him. Dazed but polite, he remained a passive
observer of the sale which followed and which apparently realized
sufficient to satisfy every creditor, but not enough for an income to
continue a harmlessly idle career which he had supposed was to continue
indefinitely.
He had never earned a penny; he had not the vaguest idea of how people
made money. To do something, however, was absolutely necessary.
He wasted some time in finding out just how much aid he might expect from
his late father's friends, but when he understood the attitude of society
toward a knocked-out gentleman he wisely ceased to annoy society, and
turned to the business world.
Here he wasted some more time. Perhaps the time was not absolutely
wasted, for during that period he learned that he could use nobody who
could not use him; and as he appeared to be perfectly useless, except for
ornament, and as a business house is not a kindergarten, and furthermore,
as he had neither time nor money to attend any school where anybody could
teach him anything, it occurred to him to take a day off for minute and
thorough self-examination concerning his qualifications and even his
right to occupy a few feet of space upon the earth's surface.
Four years at Harvard, two more in postgraduate courses, two more in
Europe to perfect himself in electrical engineering, and a year at home
attempting to invent a wireless apparatus for intercepting and
transmitting psychical waves had left him pitifully unfit for wage
earning.
There remained his accomplishments; but the market was overstocked with
assorted time-killers.
His last asset was a trivial though unusual talent--a natural manual
dexterity cultivated since childhood to amuse himself--something he never
took seriously. This, and a curious control over animals, had, as the
pleasant years flowed by, become an astonishing skill which was much more
than sleight of hand; and he, always as good-humored as well-bred, had
never refused to amuse the frivolous, of which he was also one, by
picking silver dollars out of space and causing the proper card to fall
fluttering from the ceiling.
Day by day, as the little money left him melted away, he continued his
vigorous mental examination, until the alarming shrinkage in his funds
left him staring fixedly at his last asset. Could he use it? Was it an
asset, after all? How clever was he? Could he face an audience and
perform the usual magician tricks without bungling? A slip by a careless,
laughing, fashionable young amateur amusing his social equals at a house
party is excusable; a bungle by a hired professional meant an end to hope
in that direction.
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