work of Creation was finished.

Would it not be interesting to speculate upon that Critic's reception of
the freshly made World?

We may be sure that he would have found many things not to his liking;
technical defects such as the treatment of grass and foliage in green
instead of the proper purple; the tinting of the sky which any landscape
painter will tell you would be more decorative done in turquoise green
than cobalt blue.

Like the foolish Butterfly in the Talmud, who (to impress Mrs.
Butterfly) stamped his tiny foot upon the dome of King Solomon's Temple,
our Critic might have declared the World "Too flimsy in construction."
He would certainly have found fault with the Solar System and the
Plumbing--the absence of heat in Winter when there is the greater need
of it and the paucity of moisture in the desert places where it never
rains.

The comicality of the Ape family might have provoked a reluctant
smile, but much more likely a lecture on the impropriety of descending
to caricature in a serious work.

[Illustration: THE FIRST CALENDAR
The Creation of Heaven & Earth _in Six dayes_ _Gen: I_

THE YEAR I
1st Sunday 1st Wednesday
1st Monday 1st Thursday
1st Tuesday 1st Friday]

At best, our Critic would have pronounced the freshly made World the
work of a beginner, conceding perhaps that he "showed promise" and
"might go far," and if he wished to be very impressive indeed, he would
pretend that he had penetrated the veil of Anonymity and hint darkly
that he detected evident traces of a Feminine Touch!

In that, however, our Critic would only have been anticipating, for is
there not at this very moment on the press a Suffrage edition (for women
only) of the Rubaiyat, in which one verse is amended to read thus--

_The ball no question makes of Ayes or Nos,_
_But right or left, as strikes the Player goes,_
_And SHE who tossed it down into the field,_
_SHE knows about it all, SHE knows, SHE knows!_

PREFACE

_STRICTLY PRIVATE_

_For the Reader Only_

DEAR READER:

This is for _you_, and you only. We have concealed it between chapters
one and two so that it will not meet any eye but yours.

We have a confession to make--it would be useless to attempt
concealment--we have the Digression habit.

We have tried every known remedy but we fear it is incurable.

All we ask, Gentle Reader, is that when we stray too far you will favour
us with a gen