thea has a habit of talking to herself in a high-pitched whisper
capable of being heard above an Adelphi love scene. I heard her say--

"I must sit up straight. I mustn't sprawl with my elbows on the table.
It is only common, vulgar people behave that way."

I looked across at her; she was sitting most correctly, and appeared to
be contemplating something a thousand miles away. We had all of us been
lounging! We sat up stiffly, and conversation flagged.

Of course we made a joke of it after the child was gone. But somehow it
didn't seem to be OUR joke.

I wish I could recollect my childhood. I should so like to know if
children are as simple as they can look.

ON THE DELIGHTS AND BENEFITS OF SLAVERY

My study window looks down upon Hyde Park, and often, to quote the
familiar promise of each new magazine, it amuses and instructs me to
watch from my tower the epitome of human life that passes to and
fro beneath. At the opening of the gates, creeps in the woman of the
streets. Her pitiful work for the time being is over. Shivering in
the chill dawn, she passes to her brief rest. Poor Slave! Lured to the
galley's lowest deck, then chained there. Civilization, tricked fool,
they say has need of such. You serve as the dogs of Eastern towns. But
at least, it seems to me, we need not spit on you. Home to your kennel!
Perchance, if the Gods be kind, they may send you dreams of a cleanly
hearth, where you lie with a silver collar round your neck.

Next comes the labourer--the hewer of wood, the drawer of
water--slouching wearily to his toil; sleep clinging still about his
leaden eyes, his pittance of food carried tied up in a dish-clout. The
first stroke of the hour clangs from Big Ben. Haste thee, fellow-slave,
lest the overseer's whip, "Out, we will have no lie-a-beds here,"
descend upon thy patient back.

Later, the artisan, with his bag of tools across his shoulder. He, too,
listens fearfully to the chiming of the bells. For him also there hangs
ready the whip.

After him, the shop boy and the shop girl, making love as they walk,
not to waste time. And after these the slaves of the desk and of the
warehouse, employers and employed, clerks and tradesmen, office boys
and merchants. To your places, slaves of all ranks. Get you unto your
burdens.

Now, laughing and shouting as they run, the children, the sons and
daughters of the slaves. Be industrious, little children, and learn
your lessons, that when the time