rses. Here is one, a
handsome person, who holds our eye as a bright flower might. He wears a
flowing overcoat of fleecy fawn colour and a derby of biscuit brown. He
has a gray suit and joyful socks of heavy wool, yellow and black and
green in patterned squares which are so vivid they seem cubes rather
than squares. He has a close-cut dark moustache, his shaven cheeks are a
magnificent sirloin tint, his chin splendidly blue by the ministration
of the razor. His shirt is blue with a stripe of sunrise pink, and the
collar to match. He talks briskly and humorously to two others, leaning
over in the seat behind them. As he argues, we see his brown low shoe
tapping on the floor. One can almost see his foot think. It pivots
gently on the heel, the toe wagging in air, as he approaches the climax
of each sentence. Every time he drives home a point in his talk down
comes the whole foot, softly, but firmly. He relights his cigar in the
professional manner, not by inhaling as he applies the match, but by
holding the burned portion in the flame, away from his mouth, until it
has caught. His gold watch has a hunting case; when he has examined it,
it shuts again with a fine rich snap, which we can hear even above the
noise of the car.

On this early morning train there are others voyaging for amusement.
Here are two golfing zealots, puffing pipes and discussing with amazing
persistence the minutiae of their sport. Their remarks are addressed to a
very fashionable-looking curate, whose manners are superb. Whether he is
going to play golf we know not; at any rate, he smiles mildly and
politely to all they say. Perhaps he is going round the course with
them, in the hope of springing some ecclesiastical strategy while they
are softened and chastened by the glee of the game. The name of their
Maker, it is only fair to suspect, has more than once been mentioned on
the putting green; and if it should slip out, the curate will seize the
cue and develop it. In the meantime, one of the enthusiasts (while his
companion is silenced in the act of lighting his pipe) is explaining to
the cloth how his friend plays golf. "I'll tell you how he plays," he
says. "Imagine him sitting down in a low chair and swinging a club. Then
take the chair away and he still keeps the same position. That's what he
looks like when he drives." The curate smiles at this and prepares his
face to smile with equal gentleness when the other retorts.

After Floral Park the p