{"1": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2938", "width": "1925", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0001.jp2"}, "2": {"fulltext": "-n^,", "height": "2777", "width": "1709", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0002.jp2"}, "3": {"fulltext": "v \u00e2\u0080\u00a21*\u00c2\u00b0- j.0^ \u00c2\u00bbi,^;4r* V\\n4 o", "height": "2777", "width": "1709", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0003.jp2"}, "4": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2718", "width": "1607", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0004.jp2"}, "5": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2718", "width": "1607", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0005.jp2"}, "6": {"fulltext": "Jerome K. Jerome.", "height": "2718", "width": "1628", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0006.jp2"}, "7": {"fulltext": "r CHICAGO ^3^^\\nW. B. CONKEY COMPANY\\nK^ PUBLISHERS JM ^iwlkb-^\\n^^^^^0^ ^VV \\\\a\\nmeC", "height": "2723", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0007.jp2"}, "8": {"fulltext": "3(il46\\nLibrary of Congresa\\nTwo Copies Received\\nAUG 18 1900\\nCepyngMMlry\\nSECOND COPY.\\nOeliverwl to\\nORDER DIVISION,\\nSEP 8 1900\\nCorVKKJHT, 1900, BY W. B. CONKEY COMPANY.\\n74371", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0008.jp2"}, "9": {"fulltext": "TO\\nTHE VERY DEAR AND WELL-BELOVED\\njfclcnD\\nOF MY PROSPEROUS AND EVIL DAYS\\nTO THE FRIEND\\nWHO, THOUGH, IN THE EARLY STAGES OF OUR ACQUAINT-\\nANCESHIP, DID OFTTIMES DISAGREE WITH ME, HAS\\nSINCE BECOME TO BE MY VERY WARMEST\\nCOMRADE\\nTO THE FRIEND\\nWHO, HOWEVER OFTEN I MAY PUT HIM OUT, NEVER (NOW)\\nUPSETS ME IN REVENGE\\nTO THE FRIEND\\nWHO, TREATED WITH MARKED COOLNESS BY ALL THE FEMALE\\nMEMBERS OF MY HOUSEHOLD, AND REGARDED WITH\\nSUSPICION BY MY VERY DOG, NEVERTHELESS,\\nSEEMS DAY BY DAY TO BE MORE DRAWN\\nBY ME, AND IN RETURN, TO MORE\\nAND MORE IMPREGNATE ME\\nWITH THE ODOR OF HIS\\nFRIENDSHIP\\nTO THE FRIEND\\nWHO NEVER TELLS ME OF MY FAULTS, NEVER WANTS TO\\nBORROW MONEY, AND NEVER TALKS ABOUT HIMSELF\\nTO THE COMPANION\\nOF MY IDLE HOURS, THE SOOTHER OF MY SORROWS,\\nTHE CONFIDANT OF MY JOYS AND HOPES\\nMY OLDEST AND STRONGEST\\nIPlpe,\\nTHIS LITTLE VOLUME\\nIS\\nGRATEFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY\\nDEDICATED.\\n3", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0009.jp2"}, "10": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0010.jp2"}, "11": {"fulltext": "PREFACE.\\nOne or two friends to whom I showed these\\npapers in MS. having observed that they were\\nnot half bad and some of my relations having\\npromised to bny the book, if it ever came out,\\nI feel I have no right to longer delay its issue.\\nBut for this, as one may say, public demand,\\nI, perhaps, should not have ventured to offer\\nthese mere idle thoughts of mine as mental\\nfood for the English-speaking peoples of the\\nearth. What readers ask nowadays in a book\\nis that it should improve, instruct and elevate.\\nThis book wouldn t elevate a cow. I cannot\\nconscientiously recommend it for any useful\\npurpose whatever. All I can suggest is, that\\nwhen you get tired of reading the best hun-\\ndred books, you may take this up for half an\\nhour. It will be a change.", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0011.jp2"}, "12": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0012.jp2"}, "13": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS.\\nPAQE.\\nOn Being Hard Up q\\nOn Being in the Blues i8\\nOn Vanity and Vanities 26\\nOn Getting On in the World 37\\nOn Being Idle 47\\nOn Being in Love 57\\nOn the Weather 68\\nOn Cats and Dogs 81\\nOn Being Shy 98\\nOn Babies no\\nOn Eating and Drinking 121\\nOn Furnished Apartments 133\\nOn Dress and Deportment 146\\nOn Memory 158", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0013.jp2"}, "14": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0014.jp2"}, "15": {"fulltext": "THE IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN\\nIDLE FELLOW.\\nON BEING HARD UP.\\nIt is a most remarkable thing. I sat down\\nwith the full intention of writing something\\nclever and original; but for the life of me I\\ncan t think of anything clever and original\\nat least not at this moment. The only thing\\nI can think about now is being hard up. I sup-\\npose having my hands in my pockets has made\\nme think about this. I always do sit with my\\nhands in my pockets, except when I am in the\\ncompany of my sisters, my cousins, or my\\naunts; and they kick iip such a shindy I\\nshould say expostulate so eloquently upon the\\nsubject that I have to give in and take them\\nout my hands I mean. The chorus to their\\nobjections is that it is not gentlemanly. I am\\nhanged if I can see why. I could understand\\nits not being considered gentlemanly to put\\nyour hands in other people s pockets (espe-\\ncially by the other people), but how, O ye\\nsticklers for what looks this and what looks\\nthat, can putting his hands in his own pockets\\nmake a man less gentle! Perhaps you are\\nright, though. Now I come to think of it, I\\nhave heard some people grumble most sav-\\n9", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0015.jp2"}, "16": {"fulltext": "10 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nagely when doing it. But they were mostly\\nold gentlemen. We young fellows, as a rule,\\nare never quite at ease unless we have our\\nhands in our pockets. We are awkward and\\nshifty. We are like what a music-hall Lion\\nComique would be without his opera hat, if\\nsuch a thing can be imagined. But let us put\\nour hands in our trousers pockets, and let\\nthere be some small change in the right-hand\\none and a bunch of keys in the left, and we\\nwill face a female postoffice clerk.\\nIt is a little difficult to know what to do with\\nyour hands, even in your pockets, when there\\nis nothing else there. Years ago, when my\\nwhole capital would occasionally come down to\\nwhat in town the people call a bob, I would\\nrecklessly spend a penny of it, merely for the\\nsake of having the change, all in coppers, to\\njingle. You don t feel nearly so hard up with\\nelevenpence in your pocket as you do with a\\nshilling. Had I been La-di-da, that impe-\\ncunious youth about whom we superior folk\\nare so sarcastic, I would have changed my\\npenny for two ha pennies.\\nI can speak with authority on the subject of\\nbeing hard up. I have been a provincial actor.\\nIf further evidence be required, which I do not\\nthink likely, I can add that I have been a\\ngentleman connected with the press. I have\\nlived on fifteen shillings a week. I have lived\\na week on ten, owing the other five; and I\\nhave lived for a fortnight on a great-coat.\\nIt is wonderful what an insight into domestic\\neconomy being really hard up gives one. If", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0016.jp2"}, "17": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 11\\nyou want to find out the value of money, live\\non fifteen shillings a week, and see how much\\nyou can put by for clothes and recreation.\\nYou will find out that it is worth while to wait\\nfor the farthing change, that it is worth while\\nto walk a mile to save a penny, that a glass of\\nbeer is a luxury to be indulged in only at rare\\nintervals, and that a collar can be worn for\\nfour days.\\nTry it just before you get married. It will\\nbe excellent practice. Let your son and heir\\ntry it before sending him to college. He\\nwon t grumble at a hundred a year pocket\\nmoney then. There are some people to whom\\nit would do a world of good. There is that\\ndelicate blossom, who can t drink any claret\\nunder ninety-four, and who would as soon\\nthink of dining off cats meat as off plain roast\\nmutton. You do come across these poor\\nwretches now and then, though, to the credit\\nof humanity, they are principally confined to\\nthat fearful and wonderful society known only\\nto lady novelists. I never hear of one of these\\ncreatures discussing a menu card, but I feel a\\nmad desire to drag him off to the bar of some\\ncommon East End public-house, and cram a\\nsixpenny dinner down his throat beefsteak\\npudding, fourpence; potatoes, a penny; half\\na pint of porter, a penny. The recollection of\\nit (and the mingled fragrance of beer, tobac-\\nco, and roast pork generally leaves a vivid im-\\npression) might induce him to turn up his nose\\na little less frequently in the future at every-\\nthing that is put before him. Then, there is", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0017.jp2"}, "18": {"fulltext": "12 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nthat generous party, the cadger s delight, who\\nis so free with his small change, but who never\\nthinks of paying his debts. It might teach\\neven him a little common-sense. 1 always\\ngive the waiter a shilling. One can t give the\\nfellow less, you know, explained a young\\ngovernment clerk with whom I v/as lunching\\nthe other day in Regent Street. I agreed with\\nhim as to the utter impossibility of making it\\nelevenpence ha penny; but, at the same time,\\nI resolved to one day decoy him to an eating-\\nhouse I remembered near Covent Garden,\\nwhere the waiter, for the better discharge of\\nhis duties, goes about in his shirt-sleeves and\\nvery dirty sleeves they are, too, when it gets\\nnear the end of the month. I know that\\nwaiter. If my friend gives him anything be-\\nyond a penny, the man will insist on shaking\\nhands with him then and there, as a mark of\\nhis esteem of that I feel sure.\\nThere have been a good many funny things\\nsaid and written about hardupishness, but the\\nreality is not funny, for all that. It is not\\nfunny to have to haggle over pennies. It isn t\\nfunny to be thought mean and stingy. It isn t\\nfunny to be shabby, and to be ashamed of\\nyour address. No, there is nothing at all fun-\\nny in poverty to the poor. It is hell upon\\nearth to a sensitive man and many a brave\\ngentleman, who would have faced the labors\\nof Hercules, has had his heart broken by its\\npetty miseries.\\nIt is not actual discomforts themselves that\\nare hard to bear. Who would mind roughing", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0018.jp2"}, "19": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 13\\nit a bit, if that were all it meant? What cared\\nRobinson Crusoe for a patch on his trousers?\\nDid he wear trousers? I forgot; or did he go\\nabout as he does in the pantomimes? What\\ndid it matter to him if his toes did stick out of\\nhis boots? and what if his umbrella was a cot-\\nton one, so long as it kept the rain off. His\\nshabbiness did not trouble him: there were\\nnone of his friends round about to sneer at\\nhim.\\nBeing poor is a mere trifle. It is being\\nknown to be poor that is the sting. It is not\\ncold that makes a man without a great- coat\\nhurry along so quickly. It is not all shame at\\ntelling lies which he knows will not be be-\\nlieved that makes him turn so red when he\\ninforms you that he considers great-coats un-\\nhealthy, and never carries an umbrella on prin-\\nciple. It is easy enough to say that poverty is\\nno crime. No; if it were, men wouldn t be\\nashamed of it. It s a blunder, though, and is\\npunished as such. A poor man is despised the\\nwhole world over; despised as much by a\\nChristian as by a lord, as much by a dema-\\ngogue as by a footman, and not all the copy-\\nbook maxims ever set for ink-stained youth\\nwill make him respected. Appearances are\\neverything, so far as human opinion goes, and\\nthe man who will walk down Piccadilly arm in\\narm with the most notorious scamp in London,\\nprovided he is a well-dressed one, will slink\\nup a back street to say a couple of words to a\\nseedy-looking gentleman. And the seedy-look-\\ning gentleman knows this no one better and", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0019.jp2"}, "20": {"fulltext": "14 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nwill go a mile round to avoid meeting- an ac-\\nquaintance. Those that knew him in his pros-\\nperity need never trouble themselves to look\\nthe other way. Pie is a thousand times more\\nanxious that they should not see him than they\\ncan be; and as to their assistance, there is\\nnothing he dreads more than the offer of it.\\nAll he wants is to be forgotten; and in this\\nrespect he is generally fortunate enough to get\\nwhat he wants.\\nOne becomes used to being hard up, as one\\nbecomes used to everything else, by the help\\nof that wonderful old homoeopathic doctor,\\nTime. You can tell at a glance the difference\\nbetween the old hand and the novice; between\\nthe case-hardened man who has been used to-\\nshift and struggle for years, and the poor devil\\nof a beginner, striving to hide his misery, and\\nin a constant agony of fear lest he should be\\nfound out. Nothing shows this difference\\nmore clearly than the way in which each will\\npawn his watch. As the poet says somewhere:\\nTrue ease in pawning comes from art, not\\nchance. The one goes into his Uncle s\\nwith as much composure as he would into his.\\ntailor s very likely with more. The assistant\\nis even civil and attends to him at once, to the\\ngreat indignation of the lady in the next box,\\nwho, however, sarcastically observes that she\\ndon t mind being kept waiting if it is a reg-\\nular customer. Why, from the pleasant and\\nbusiness-like manner in which the transaction\\nis carried out, it might be a large purchase in\\nthe Three per Cents. Yet what a piece of", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0020.jp2"}, "21": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 15\\nwork a man makes of his first pop. A boy-\\npopping his first question is confidence itself\\ncompared with him. He hangs about outside\\nthe shop, until he has succeeded in attracting\\nthe attention of all the loafers in the neighbor-\\nhood, and has aroused strong suspicions in the\\nmind of the policeman on the beat. At last,\\nafter a careful examination of the contents of\\nthe windows, made for the purpose of impress-\\ning the bystanders with the notion that he is\\ngoing in to purchase a diamond bracelet or\\nsome such trifle, he enters, trying to do so with\\na careless swagger, and giving himself really\\nthe air of a member of the swell mob. When\\ninside, he speaks in so low a voice as to be per-\\nfectly inaudible, and has to say it all over\\nagain. When, in the course of his rambling\\nconversation about a friend of his, the word\\nlend is reached, he is promptly told to go\\nup the court on the right, and take the first\\ndoor round the corner. He comes out of the\\nshop with a face that you could easily light a\\ncigarette at, and firmly under the impression\\nthat the whole population of the district is\\nwatching him. When he does get to the right\\nplace, he has forgotten his name and address,\\nand is in a general condition of hopeless im-\\nbecility. Asked in a severe tone how he came\\nby this, he stanjmers and contradicts him-\\nself, and it is only a miracle if he does not\\nconfess to having stolen it that very day. He\\nis thereupon informed that they don t want\\nanything to do with his sort, and that he had\\nbetter get out of this as quickly as possible,", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0021.jp2"}, "22": {"fulltext": "16 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nwhich he does, recollecting- nothing more until\\nhe finds himself three miles off, without the\\nslighest knowledge how he got there.\\nBy the way, how awkward it is, though, hav-\\ning to depend on public houses and churches\\nfor the time. The former are generally too\\nfast, and the latter too slow. Besides which,\\nyour efforts to get a glimpse of the public-\\nhouse clock from the outside are attended with\\ngreat difficulties. If you gently push the\\nswing door ajar and peer in you draw upon\\nyourself the contemptuous looks of the bar-\\nmaid, who at once puts you down in the same\\ncategory with area sneaks and cadgers. You\\nalso create a certain amount of agitation among\\nthe married portion of the customers. You\\ndon t see the clock, because it is behind the\\ndoor: and in trying to withdraw quietly you\\njamb your head. The only other method is to\\njump up and down outside the window. After\\nthis latter proceeding, however, if you do not\\nbring out a banjo and commence to sing, the\\nyouthful inhabitants of the neighborhood, who\\nhave gathered round in expectation, become\\ndisappointed.\\nI should like to know, too, by what mysteri-\\nous law of nature it is that, before you have\\nleft your watch **to be repaired half an hour,\\nsome one is sure to stop you in the street and\\nconspicuously ask you the time. Nobody\\neven feels the slightest curiosity on the sub-\\nject when you ve got it on.\\nDear old ladies and gentlemen, who know\\nnothing about being hard up and may they", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0022.jp2"}, "23": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 17\\nnever, bless their gray old heads look upon\\nthe pawnshop as the last stage of degradation;\\nbut those who know it better (and my readers\\nhave, no doubt, noticed this themselves) are\\noften surprised, like the little boy who dreamed\\nhe went to Heaven, at meeting so many people\\nthere that they never expected to see. For my\\npart, I think it a much more independent\\ncourse than borrowing from friends, and I al-\\nways try to impress this upon those of my ac-\\nquaintance who incline tov/ard wanting a\\ncouple of pounds till the day after to-morrow.\\nBut they won t all see it. One of them once\\nremarked that he objected to the principle of\\nthe thing. I fancy if he had said it was the in-\\nterest that he objected to he would have been\\nnearer the truth twenty-five per cent, cer-\\ntainly does come heavy.\\nThere are degrees in being hard up. We are\\nall hard up, more or less most of us more.\\nSome are hard up for a thousand pounds;\\nsome for a shilling. Just at this moment I\\nam hard up myself for a fiver. I only want it\\nfor a day or two. I should be certain of pay-\\ning it back within a week at the outside, and if\\nany lady or gentleman among my readers\\nwould kindly lend it me, I should be very much\\nobliged indeed. They could send it to me\\nunder cover to Messrs. Field Tuer, only, in\\nsuch case, please let the envelope be carefully\\nsealed. I would give you my L O. U. as\\nsecurity.\\n2 Idle Thoughts", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0023.jp2"}, "24": {"fulltext": "18 IDLETHOUGHTSOF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nON BEING IN THE BLUES.\\nI can enjoy feeling melancholy, and there is\\na good deal of satisfaction about being thor-\\noughly miserable; but nobody likes a fit of the\\nblues. Nevertheless, everybody has them;\\nnotwithstanding which, nobody can tell why.\\nThere is no accounting for them. You are\\njust as likely to have one on the day after you\\nhave come into a large fortune, as on the day\\nafter you have left your new silk umbrella in\\nthe train. Its effect upon you is somewhat\\nsimilar to what would probably be produced\\nby a combined attack of toothache, indiges-\\ntion, and cold in the head. You become stupid,\\nrestless and irritable; rude to strangers, and\\ndangerous toward your friends clumsy, maud-\\nlin, and quarrelsome; a nuisance to yourself\\nand everybody about you.\\nWhile it is on, you can do nothing and think\\nof nothing, though feeling at the time bound\\nto do something. You can t sit still, so put on\\nyour hat and go for a walk; but before you\\nget to the corner of the street you wish you\\nhadn t come out, and you turn back. You\\nopen a book and try to read, but you find\\nShakespeare trite and commonplace, Dickens\\nis dull and prosy, Thackeray a bore, and Car-\\nlyle too sentimental. You throw the book", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0024.jp2"}, "25": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 19\\naside, and call the author names. Then you\\nshoo the cat out of the room, and kick the\\ndoor to after her. You think you will write\\nyour letters, but after sticking at Dearest\\nAuntie I find I have five minutes to spare, and\\nso hasten to write to you, for a quarter of an\\nhour, without being able to think of another\\nsentence, you tumble the paper into the desk,\\nfling the wet pen down upon the table-cloth,\\nand start up with the resolution of going to\\nsee the Thompsons. While pulling on your\\ngloves, however, it occurs to you that the\\nThompsons are idiots; that they never have\\nsupper; and that you will be expected to jump\\nthe baby. You curse the Thompsons, and\\ndecide not to go.\\nBy this time you feel completely crushed.\\nYou bury your face in your hands, and think\\nyou would like to die and go to heaven. You\\npicture to yourself your own sick-bed, with all\\nyour friends and relations standing round 5^ou\\nweeping. You bless them all, especially the\\nyoung and pretty ones. They will value you\\nwhen you are gone, so you say to yourself,\\nand learn too late what they have lost and you\\nbitterly contrast their presumed regard for you\\nthen with their decided want of veneration\\nnow.\\nThese reflections make you feel a little more\\ncheerful, but only for a brief period for the\\nnext moment you think what a fool you must\\nbe to imagine for an instant that anybody\\nwould be sorry at anything that might happen\\nto you. Who would care two straws (whatever", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0025.jp2"}, "26": {"fulltext": "20 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nprecise amount of care two straws may repre-\\nsent) whether you were blown up, or hung up,\\nor married, or drowned. Nobody cares for\\nyou. You never have been properly appre-\\nciated, never met with your due de.serts in any\\none particular. You review the whole of your\\npast life, and it is painfully apparent that\\nyou have been ill-used from your cradle.\\nHalf an hour s indulgence in these consider-\\nations works you up into a state of savage fury\\nagainst everybody and everything, especially\\nyourself, whom anatomical reasons alone pre-\\nvent your kicking. Bed-time at last comes, to\\nsave you from doing something rash, and you\\nspring upstairs, throw off your clothes, leaving\\nthem strewn all over the room, blow out the\\ncandle, and jump into bed as if you had backed\\nyourself for a heavy wager to do the whole\\nthing against time. There, you toss and\\ntumble about for a couple of hours or so, vary-\\ning the monotony by occasionally jerking the\\nclothes off, and getting out and putting them\\non again. At length you drop into an uneasy\\nand fitful slumber, have bad dreams, and wake\\nup late the next morning.\\nAt least, this is all we poor single men can\\ndo under the circumstances. Married men\\nbully their wives, grumble at the dinner, and\\ninsist on the children s going to bed. All of\\nwhich, creating, as it does, a good deal of\\ndisturbance in the house, must be a great\\nrelief to the feelings of a man in the blues;\\nrows being the only form of amusement in\\nwhich he can take any interest.", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0026.jp2"}, "27": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 21\\nThe symptoms of the infirmity are much\\nthe same in every case, but the affliction\\nitself is variously termed. The poet says that\\na feeling of sadness comes o er him. Arry\\nrefers to the heavings of his wayward heart\\nby confiding to Jimee that he has got the\\nblooming hump. Your sister doesn t know\\nwhat is the matter with her to-night. She\\nfeels out of sorts altogether, and hopes noth-\\ning is going to happen. The everyday-young-\\nman is so awfully glad to meet you, old fel-\\nlow, for he does feel so jolly miserable,\\nthis evening. As for myself, T generally\\nsay that I have a strange, unsettled feeling\\nto-night, and think I ll go out.\\nBy the way, it never does come except in the\\nevening. In the sun-time, when the world is\\nbounding forward full of life, we cannot stay\\nto sigh and sulk. The roar of the working\\nday drovv^ns the voices of the elfin sprites that\\nare ever singing their low-toned miserere in\\nour ears. In the day we are angry, disap-\\npointed, or indignant, but never in the\\nblues, and never melancholy. When things\\ngo wrong at ten o clock in the morning, we\\nor rather you swear and knock the furniture\\nabout; but if the misfortune comes at lo p. m.,\\nwe read poetry, or sit in the dark, and think\\nwhat a hollow world this is.\\nBut, as a rule, it is not trouble that makes\\nus melancholy. The actuality is too stern a\\nthing for sentiment. We linger to weep over\\na picture, but from the original we should\\nquickly turn our eyes away. There is no pathos", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0027.jp2"}, "28": {"fulltext": "22 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nin real misery: no luxury in real grief. We\\ndo not toy with sharp swords, nor hug a gnaw-\\ning fox to our breasts iof choice. When a man\\nor woman loves to brood over a sorrow, and\\ntakes care to keep it green in their memory.^\\nyou may be sure it is no longer a pain to them.\\nHowever they may have suffered from it at\\nfirst, the recollection has become by then a\\npleasure. Many dear old ladies, who daily\\nlook at tiny shoes, lying in lavender-scented\\ndrawers, and weep as they think of the tiny\\nfeet whose toddling march is done and sweet-\\nfaced young ones, who place each night\\nbeneath their pillow some lock that once\\ncurled on a boyish head that the salt waves\\nhave kissed to death, will call me a nasty\\ncynical brute, and say I m talking nonsense;\\nbut I believe, nevertheless, that if they will\\nask themselves truthfully whether they find it\\nunpleasant to dwell thus on their sorrow, they\\nwill be comipelled to answer No. Tears are\\nas sweet as laughter to some natures. The\\nproverbial Englishman, we know from old\\nchronicler Froissart, takes his pleasures sadly,\\nand the Englishwoman goes a step further,\\nand takes her pleasures in sadness itself.\\nI am not sneering. I would not for a mo-\\nment sneer at anything that helps to keep\\nhearts tender in this hard old world. We men\\nare cold and common-sensed enough for all;\\nwe would not have women the same. No,\\nno, ladies dear, be always sentimental and soft-\\nhearted, as you are be the soothing butter to\\nour coarse dry bread. Besides, sentiment is", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0028.jp2"}, "29": {"fulltext": "IDLETHOUGHTSOF AN IDLE FELLOW. 23\\nto women what fun is to us. They do not care\\nfor our humor, surely it would be unfair to\\ndeny them their grief. And who shall sa) that\\ntheir mode of enjoyment is not as sensible as\\nours? Why assume that a doubled-up body, a\\ncontorted, purple face, and a g-aping mouth,\\nemitting a series of ear-splitting shrieks, point\\nto a state of more intelligent happiness than a\\npensive face, reposing upon a little white hand,\\nand a pair of gentle tear-dimmed eyes, looking\\nback through Time s dark avenue upon a fad-\\ning past?\\nI am glad when I see Regret walked with as\\na friend glad because I know the saltness has\\nbeen washed from out the tears, and that the\\nsting must have been plucked from the beau-\\ntiful face of Sorrow e er we dare press her pale\\nlips to ours. Time has laid his healing hand\\nupon the w^ound, when we can look back upon\\nthe pain w^e once fainted under, and no bitter-\\nness or despair rises in our hearts. The\\nburden is no longer heavy, when we have for\\nour past troubles only the same sweet ming-\\nling of pleasure and pity that w^e feel when\\nold knight-hearted Colonel Newcome answers\\naclsnm to the great roll-call, or w^hen Tom\\nand Maggie Tulliver, clasping hands through\\nthe mists that have divided them, go down,\\nlocked in each other s arms, beneath the\\nswollen waters of the Floss.\\nTalking of poor Tom and Maggie Tulliver\\nbrings to my m^ind a saying of George Eliot s\\nin connection with this subject of melancholy.\\nShe speaks somewhere of the sadness of a", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0029.jp2"}, "30": {"fulltext": "24 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOV/.\\nsummer s evening. How wonderfully true\\nlike everything that came from that wonderful\\npen the observation is! Who has not felt\\nthe sorrowful enchantment of those lingering\\nsunsets? The world belongs to Melancholy,\\nthen a thoughtful deep-eyed maiden who loves\\nnot the glare of day. It is not till light\\nthickens, and the crow wings to the rocky\\nwood, that she steals forth from her groves.\\nHer palace is in twilight land. It is there she\\nmeets us. At her shadowy gate she takes our\\nhand in hers, and walks beside us through her\\nmystic realm. We see no form, but seem to\\nhear the rustling of her wings.\\nEven in the toiling, humdrum city, her\\nspirit comes to us. There is a sombre pres-\\nence in each long, dull street and the dark river\\ncreeps ghost-like under the black arches, as if\\nbearing some hidden secret beneath its muddy\\nv/aves.\\nIn the silent country, when the trees and\\nhedges loom dim and blurred against the rising\\nnight, and the bat s wing flutters in our face,\\nand the land-rail s cry sounds dreamily across\\nthe fields, the spell sinks deeper still into our\\nhearts. We seem in that hour to be standing\\nby some unseen deathbed, and in the swaying\\nof the elms we hear the sigh of the dying day.\\nA solemn sadness reigns. A great peace is\\naround us. In its light, our cares of the work-\\ning day grow small and trivial, and bread and\\ncheese aye, and even kisses do not seem the\\nonly things worth striving for. Thoughts we\\ncannot speak but only listen to flood in upon", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0030.jp2"}, "31": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 25\\nUS, and, standing in the stillness under earth s\\ndark ning- dome, we feel that we are greater\\nthan our petty lives. Hung round with those\\ndusky curtains, the world is no longer a mere\\ndingy workshop, but a stately temple wherein\\nman may worship, and where, at times, in the\\ndimness, his groping hands touch God s.", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0031.jp2"}, "32": {"fulltext": "26 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nON VANITY AND VANITIES.\\nAll is vanity, and everybody s vain. Women\\nare terribly vain. So are men more so, if\\npossible. So are children, particularly children.\\nOne of them at this very moment, is hammer-\\ning upon my legs. She wants to know what I\\nthink of her new shoes. Candidly I don t think\\nmuch of them. They lack symmetry and\\ncurve, and possess an indescribable appearance\\nof lumpiness (I believe, too, they ve put them\\non the wrong feet). But I don t say this. It\\nis not criticism, but flattery that she wants;\\nand I gush over t?iem with what I feel to my-\\nself to be degrading effusiveness. Nothing\\nelse would satisfy this self-opinionated cherub.\\nI tried the conscientious friend dodge with her\\n\u00c2\u00a9n one occasion, but it was not a success. She\\nhad requested my judgment upon her general\\nconduct and behavior, the exact case submitted\\nbeing *Wot oo tink of me? Oo peased wi me?\\nand I bad thought it a good opportunity to\\nmake a few salutary remarks upon her late\\nmoral career, and said: No, I am not pleased\\nwith you. I recalled to her mind the events\\nof that very morning, and I put it to her how\\nshe, as a Christian child, could expect a wise\\nand good uncle to be satisfied with the carry-\\nings on of an infant who that ver} day had", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0032.jp2"}, "33": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF A^ IDLE FELLOW. 27\\nroused the whole house at 5 a. m. had upset a\\nwater jug-, and tumbled downstairs after it at\\n7 had endeavored to put the cat in the bath at\\n8; and sat on her own father s hat at 9:35.\\nWhat did she do? Was she grateful to me\\nfor my plain speaking? Did she ponder upon\\nmy words, and determine to profit by them,\\nand to lead from that hour a better and nobler\\nlife?\\nNo! she howled.\\nThat done she became abusive. She said:\\nOo naughty 00 naughty, bad unkie 00\\nbad man me tell MAR.\\nAnd she did, too.\\nSince then, when my views have been called\\nfor, I have kept my real sentiments more to\\nmyself like, preferring to express unbounded\\nadmiration of this young person s actions,\\nirrespective of their actual merits. And she\\nnods her head approvingly, and trots off to\\nadvertise my opinion to the rest of the house-\\nhold. She appears to employ it as a sort of\\ntestimonial for mercenary purposes, for I sub-\\nsequently hear distant sounds of Unkie says\\nme dood dirl me dot to have two bikies.*\\nThere she goes, now. gazing rapturously at\\nher own toes, and murmuring *pittie two-\\nfoot- ten of conceit and vanity; to say nothing\\nof other wickedness.\\nThey are all alike. I remember sitting in a\\ngarden one sunny afternoon, in the suburbs of\\nLondon. Suddenly I heard a shrill, treble\\n*Early EagUsh for biscuits.", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0033.jp2"}, "34": {"fulltext": "28 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nvoice calling from a top story window to some\\nunseen being, presumably in one of the other\\ngardens, Gamma, me dood boy, me wery\\ndood boy, Gamma; me dot on Bob s knickie-\\nbockies.\\nWhy, even animals are vain. I saw a great\\nNewfoundland dog, the other day, sitting in\\nfront of a mirror at the entrance to a shop in\\nRegent s circus, and examining himself with\\nan amount of smug satisfaction that I have\\nnever seen equaled elsewhere, outside a vestry\\nmeeting.\\nI was at a farmhouse once, when some high\\nholiday was being celebrated. I don t remem-\\nber what the occasion was, but it was some-\\nthing festive, a May- day or Quarter-day, or\\nsomething of that sort, and they put a garland\\nof flowers round the head of one of the cows.\\nWell, that absurd quadruped went about all day\\nas perky as a school-girl in a new frock and,\\nwhen they took the wreath otf, she became\\nquite sulky, and they had to put it on again\\nbefore she would stand still to be milked.\\nThis is not a Percy anecdote. It is plain, sober\\ntruth.\\nAs for cats, they nearly equal human beings\\nfor vanity. I have known a cat to get up and\\nwalk out of the room, on a remark derogatory\\nto her species being made by a visitor, while\\na neatly turned compliment will set them pur-\\nring for an hour.\\nI do like cats. They are so unconsciously\\namusing. There is such a comic dignity\\nabout them, such an How dare you! Go", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0034.jp2"}, "35": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 29\\naway, don t touch me sort of air. Now there\\nis nothing haughty about a dog; They are\\nHail fellow, well met with every Tom,\\nDick, or Harry that they come across. When\\nI meet a dog- of my acquaintance, I slap his\\nhead, call him opprobrious epithets, and roll\\nhim over on his back, and there he lies, gaping\\nat me, and doesn t mind it a bit.\\nFancy carrying on like that with a cat Why,\\nshe would never speak to you again as long as\\nyou lived. No, when you want to win the\\napprobation of a cat you must mind what you\\nare about, and work your way carefully. If\\nyou don t know the cat, you had best begin by\\nsaying, Poor Pussy. After which add, did\\nums, in a tone of soothing sympathy. You\\ndon t know what you mean, any more than the\\ncat does, but the sentiment seems to imply a\\nproper spirit on your part, and generally\\ntouches her feelings to such an extent that, if\\nyou are of good manners and passable appear-\\nance, she will stick her back up and rub her\\nnose against you. Matters having reached this\\nstage, you may venture to chuck her under the\\nchin, and tickle the side of her head, and the\\nintelligent creature will then stick her claws\\ninto your legs; and all is friendship and affec-\\ntion, as so sweetly expressed in the beautiful\\nlines:\\nI love little Pussy, her coat is so warm.\\nAnd if I don t tease her, she ll do me no harm\\nSo I ll stroke her, and pat her, and feed her with food,\\nAnd Pussy will love me because I am good.\\nThe last two lines of the stanza srive us a", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0035.jp2"}, "36": {"fulltext": "30 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\npretty true insight into pussy s notions of\\nhuman goodness. It is evident that in her\\nopinion goodness consists of stroking her, and\\npatting her, and feeding her with food. I fear\\nthis narrow-minded view of virtue, though, is\\nnot confined to pussies. We are all inclined\\nto adopt a similar standard of merit in our\\nestimate of other people. A good man is a\\nman who is good to us, and a bad man is a\\nman who doesn t do what we want him to.\\nThe truth is, we each of us have an inborn\\nconviction that the whole world, with every-\\nbody and everything in it, was created as a\\nsort of necessary appendage to ourselves. Our\\nfellow men and women were made to admire\\nus, and to minister to our various require-\\nments. You and I, dear reader, are each the\\ncenter of the universe in our respective opin-\\nions. You, as I understand it, were brought\\nfhto being by a considerate Providence in\\norder that you might read and pay me for what\\nI write; while I, in your opinion, am an article\\nsent. into the world to write something for you\\nto read. The stars as we term the myriad\\nother worlds that are rushing down beside us\\nthrough the eternal silence were put into the\\nheavens to make the sky look interesting for\\nus at night. And the moon, with its dark\\nmysteries and ever-hidden face, is an arrange-\\nment for us to flirt under.\\nT fear we are most of us like Mrs. Poyser s\\nbantam cock, who fancied the sun got up every\\nmorning to hear him crow. Tis vanity that\\nmakes the world go round. I don t believe", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0036.jp2"}, "37": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 31\\nany man ever existed without vanity, and, if\\nhe did, he would be an extremely uncomfort-\\nable person to have anything to do with. He\\nwould, of course, be a very good man, and we\\nshould respect him very much. He would be\\na very admirable man a man to be put under\\na glass case, and shown round as a specimen\\na man to be stuck upon a pedestal, and\\ncopied, like a school exercise a man to be\\nreverenced, but not a man to be loved, not a\\nhuman brother whose hand we should care to\\ngrip. Angels may be very excellent sort of\\nfolk in their way, but we poor mortals, in our\\npresent state, would probably find them pre-\\ncious slow company. Even mere good people\\nare rather depressing. It is in our faults and\\nfailings, not in our virtues, that we touch one\\nanother and find sympathy. We differ widely\\nenough in our noble qualities. It is in our\\nfollies that we are at one. Some of us are\\npious, some of us are generous. Some few\\nof us are honest, comparatively speaking;\\nand some, fewer still, may possibly be truthful.\\nBut in vanity and kindred weaknesses we can all\\njoin hands. Vanity is one of those touches of\\nNature that make the whole world kin. From\\nthe Indian hunter, proud of his belt of scalps\\nto the European general, swelling beneath his\\nrow of stars and medals; from the Chinese,\\ngleeful at the length of his pigtail, to the\\nprofessional beauty, suffering tortures in\\norder that her waist may resemble a peg-top;\\nfrom draggle-tailed little Polly vStiggins, strut-\\nting through Seven Dials with a tattered par-", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0037.jp2"}, "38": {"fulltext": "32 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nasol over her head, to the princess sweeping\\nthrough a drawing-room with a train of four\\nyards long; from Arry, winning by vulgar\\nchaff the loud laughter of his pals, to the states-\\nman, whose ears are tickled by the cheers that\\ngreet his high-sounding periods; from the\\ndark-skinned African, bartering his rare oils\\nand ivory for a few glass beads to hang about\\nhis neck, to the Christian maiden, selling her\\nwhite body^ for a score of tiny stones and an\\nempty title to tack before her name all march,\\nand fight, and bleed, and die beneath its tawdry\\nflag.\\n-^y* ^Yj vanity is truly the motive-power\\nthat moves Humanity, and it is flattery that\\ngreases the wheels. If you want to win affec-\\ntion and respect in this world, you must flatter\\npeople. Flatter high and low, and rich and\\npoor, and silly and wise. You will get on fam-\\nously. Praise this man s virtues and that\\nman s vices. Compliment everybody upon\\neverything, and especially upon what they\\nhaven t got. Admire guys for their beauty,\\nfools for their wit, and boors for their breed-\\ning. Your discernment and intelligence will\\nbe extolled to the skies.\\nEvery one can be got over by flattery. The\\nbelted earl belted earl is the correct\\nphrase, I believe. I don t know what it means,\\nunless it be an earl that wears a belt instead of\\nbraces. Some men do. I don t like it myself.\\nYou have to keep the thing so tight, for it to\\nbe of any use, and that is uncomfortable.\\nAnyhow, whatever particular kind of an earl", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0038.jp2"}, "39": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 33\\na belted earl may be, he is, I assert, get-over-\\nable by flattery; just as every other human\\nbeing is, from a duchess to a cat s-meat man,\\nfrom a ploughboy to a poet and the poet\\nfar easier than the ploughboy, but butter sinks\\nbetter into wheaten bread than into oaten\\ncakes.\\nAs for lovCj flattery is its very life-blood.\\nFill a person with love for themselves, and\\nwhat runs over will be your share, says a cer-\\ntain witty and truthful Frenchman, whose\\nname I can t for the life of me remember.\\n(Confound it, I ever can remember names when\\nI want to) Tell a girl she is an angel, only\\nmore angelic than an angel that she is a god-\\ndess, only more graceful, queenly, and heav-\\nenly than the average goddess; that she is\\nmore fairy-like than Titania, more beautiful\\nthan Venus, more enchanting than Parthe-\\nnope more adorable, lovely, and radiant, in\\nshort, than any other woman that ever did\\nlive, does live or could live, and you will make\\na very favorable impression upon her trusting\\nlittle heart. Sweet innocent she will believe\\nevery word you say. It is so easy to deceive\\na woman in this way.\\nDear little souls, they hate flattery, so they\\ntell you; and, when you say, Ah, darling, it\\nisn t flattery in your case, it s plain, sober\\ntruth; you really are, without exaggeration,\\nthe most beautiful, the most good, the most\\ncharming, the most divine, the most perfect\\nhuman creature that ever trod this earth,\\nthey will smile a quiet, approving smile, and,\\nS Idle Thoughts", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0039.jp2"}, "40": {"fulltext": "34 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nleaning against your manly shoulder, murmur\\nthat you are a dear good fellow after all.\\nBy Jove, fancy a man trying to make love\\non strictly truthful principles, determining\\nnever to utter a word of mere compliment or\\nhyperbole, but to scrupulously confine himself\\nto exact fact! Fancy his gazing rapturously\\ninto his mistress s eyes, and whispering softly\\nto her that she wasn t, on the whole, bad-look-\\ning, as girls went. Fancy his holding up her\\nlittle hand, and assuring her that it was of a\\nlight drab color, shot with red; and tellmg her\\nas he pressed her to his heart, that her nose,\\nfor a turned-up one, seemed rather pretty; and\\nthat her eyes appeared to him, as far as he\\ncould judge, to be quite up to the average\\nstandard of such things!\\nA nice chance he would stand against the\\nman who would tell her that her face was like\\na fresh blush rose, that her hair was a wander-\\ning sunbeam imprisoned by her smiles, and\\nher eyes like two evening stars.\\nThere are various ways of flattering, and, of\\ncourse, you must adapt your style to your sub-\\nject. Some people like it laid on with a trowel,\\nand this requires very little art. With sensible\\npersons, however, it needs to be done very\\ndelieately, and more by suggestion than actual\\nwords. A good many like it wrapped up in\\nthe form of an insult, as Oh, you are a per-\\nfect fool, you are. You would give your last\\nsixpence to the first hungry-looking beggar you\\nmet; while others will swallow it only when\\nadministered through the medium of a third", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0040.jp2"}, "41": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 35\\nperson, so that if C wishes to get at an A of this\\nsort, he must confide to A s particular friend B\\nthat he thinks A a splendid fellow, and beg\\nhim, B, not to mention it, especially to A. Be\\ncareful that B is a reliable man, though, oth-\\nerwise he won t.\\nThose fine sturdy John Bulls, who hate\\nflattery, sir, Never let anybody get over me\\nby flattery, etc., etc., are very simply man-\\naged. Flatter them enough upon their\\nabsence of vanity and you can do what you like\\nwith them. After all, vanity is as much a vir-\\ntue as a vice. It is easy to recite copy-book\\nmaxims against its sinfulness, but it is a pas-\\nsion that can move us to good as well as to\\nevil. Ambition is only vanity ennobled. We\\nwant to win praise and admiration or Fame\\nas we prefer to name it and so ^te write great\\nbooks, and paint grand pictures, and sing sweet\\nsongs; and toil with willing hands in study,\\nloom, and laboratory.\\nWe wish to become rich men, not in order to\\nenjoy ease and comfort all that any one man\\ncan taste of those may be purchased anywhere\\nfor two hundred pounds per annum but that\\nour houses may be bigger and more gaudily\\nfurnished than our neighbors that our horses\\nand servants may be more numerous; that we\\nmay dress our wives and daughters in absurd\\nbut expensive clothes; and that we may give\\ncostly dinners of which we ourselves individu-\\nally do not eat a shilling s worth. And to do\\nthis, we aid the world s work with clear and\\nbusy brain, spreading com.merce among its", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0041.jp2"}, "42": {"fulltext": "36 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\npeoples, carrying civilization to its remotest\\ncorners.\\nDo not let us abuse vanity, therefore.\\nRather let us use it. Honor itself is but the\\nhighest form of vanity. The instinct is not\\nconfined solely to Beau Brummels and Dolly\\nVardens. There is the vanity of the peacock,\\nand the vanity of the eagle. Snobs are vain.\\nBut so, too, are heroes. Come, oh my young\\nbrother bucks, let us be vain together. Let\\nus join hands, and help each other to increase\\nour vanity. Let us be vain, not of our trousers\\nand hair, but of brave hearts and working\\nhands, of truth, of purity, of nobility. Let us\\nbe too vain to stoop to aught that is mean or\\nbase, too vain for petty selfishness and little-\\nminded envy, too vain to say an unkind word\\nor do an unkind act. Let us be vain of being\\nsingle-hearted, upright gentlemen in the midst\\nof a v/orld of knaves. Let us pride ourselves\\nupon thinking high thoughts, achieving great\\ndeeds, living good lives.", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0042.jp2"}, "43": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 37\\nON GETTING ON IN THE WORLD.\\nNot exactly the sort of thing for an idle fel-\\nlow to think about, is it? But outsiders, you\\nknow, often see most of the game; and sitting\\nin my arbor by the wayside, smoking my\\nhookah of contentment, and eating the sweet\\nlotus-leaves of indolence, I can look out mus-\\ningly upon the whirling throng that rolls and\\ntumbles past me on the great high-road of life.\\nNever-ending is the wild procession. Day\\nand night you can hear the quick tramp of the\\nmyriad feet some running, some walking,\\nsome halting and lame; but all hastening, all\\neager in the feverish race, all straining life and\\nlimb and heart and soul to reach the ever-\\nreceding horizon of success.\\nMark them as they surge along men and\\nwomen, old and young, gentle and simple, fair\\nand foul, rich and poor, merry and sad all\\nhurrying, bustling, scrambling. The strong\\npushing aside the weak, the cunning creeping\\npast the foolish; those behind elbowing those\\nbefore those in front kicking, as they run, at\\nthose behind. Look close, and see the flitting\\nshow. Here is an old man panting for breath\\nand there a timid maiden, driven by a hard\\nand sharp-faced matron; here is a studious\\nyouth, reading How to get on in the V/orld", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0043.jp2"}, "44": {"fulltext": "38 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nand letting everybody pass him as he stumbles\\nalong with his eyes on his book; here is a\\nbored-looking man, with a fashionably dressed\\nwoman jogging his elbow; here a boy gazing\\nwistfully back at the sunny village that he never\\nagain will see here, with a firm and easy step,\\nstrides abroad-shouldered man; and here, with\\na stealthy tread, a thin-faced, stooping fellow\\ndodges and shuffles upon his way; here, with\\ngaze fixed always on the ground, an artful rogue\\ncarefully works his way from side to side of\\nthe road, and thinks he is going forward and\\nhere a youth with a noble face stands, hesitat-\\ning as he looks from the distant goal to the\\nmud beneath his feet.\\nAnd now into the sight comes a fair girl,\\nwith her dainty face growing more wrinkled at\\nevery step; and now a care-worn man, and now\\na hopeful lad.\\nA motley throng a motley throng! Prince\\nand beggar, sinner and saint, butcher and\\nbaker and candlestick-maker, tinkers and\\ntailors, and ploughboys and sailors all jost-\\nling along together. Here the counsel in his\\nwig and gown, and here the old Jew clothes-\\nman under his dingy tiara; here the soldier in\\nscarlet, and here the undertaker s mute in\\nstreaming hat-band and worn cotton gloves;\\nhere the musty scholar, fumbling his faded\\nleaves, and here the scented actor, dangling\\nhis showy seals. Here the glib politician, cry-\\ning his legislative panaceas; and here the peri-\\npatetic Cheap-Jack, holding aloft his quack\\ncures for human ills. Here the sleek capital-", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0044.jp2"}, "45": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 39\\nist, and there the sinewy laborer;. here the man\\nof science, and here the shoe-black; here the\\npoet, and here the water-rate collector here the\\ncabinet minister, and there the ballet dancer.\\nHere a red-nosed publican, shouting the praises\\nof his vats; and here a temperance lecturer at\\nfifty pounds a night; here a judge, and there a\\nswindler; here a priest, and there a gambler.\\nHere a jeweled duchess, smiling and\\ngracious; here a thin lodging-house keeper,\\nirritable with cooking and here a wabbling,\\nstrutting thing, tawdry in paint and finery.\\nCheek by cheek, they struggle onward.\\nScreaming, cursing, and praying, laug-hing,\\nsinging, and moaning, they rush past side by\\nside. Their speed never slackens, the race\\nnever ends. There is no wayside rest for\\nthem, no halt by cooling fountains, no pause\\nbeneath green shades. On, on, on on\\nthrough the heat and the crowd and the dust\\non, or they will be trampled down and lost\\non, with throbbing brain and tottering limbs\\non, till the heart grows sick, and the eyes grow\\nblurred and a gurgling groan tells those be-\\nhind they may close up another space.\\nAnd yet in spite of the killing pace and the\\nstony track, who, but the sluggard or the dolt,\\ncan hold aloof from the course? Who like the\\nbelated traveler that stands watching fairy\\nrevels till he snatches and drains the goblin\\ncup, and springs into the whirling circle can\\nview the mad tumult, and not be drawn into\\nits midst? Not I, for one. I confess to the\\nwayside arbor, the pipe of contentment, and", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0045.jp2"}, "46": {"fulltext": "40 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE f ELLOW.\\nthe lotus-leaves being altogether unsuitable\\nmetaphors. They sounded very nice and\\nphilosophical, but I m afraid I am not the sort\\nof person to sit in arbors, smoking pipes, when\\nthere is any fun going on outside. I think I\\nmore resemble the Irishman, who, seeing a\\ncrowd collecting, sent his little girl out to ask\\nif there was going to be a row Cos, if so,\\nfather would like to be in it.\\nI love the fierce strife. I like to watch it.\\nI like to hear of people getting on in it bat-\\ntling their way bravely and fairly that is, not\\nslipping through by luck or trickery. It stirs\\none s old Saxon fighting blood, like the tales\\nof knights who fought gainst fearful odds\\nthat thrilled us in our school-boy days.\\nAnd fighting the battle of life is fighting\\nagainst fearful odds, too. There are giants\\nand dragons in this nineteenth century, and\\nthe golden casket that they guard is not so\\neasy to win as it appears in the story-books.\\nThere, Algernon takes one long, last look at\\nthe ancestral hall, dashes the tear-drop from\\nhis eye, and goes off to return in three years\\ntime, rolling in riches. The authors do not\\ntell us how it s done, which is a pity, for it\\nwould surely prove exciting.\\nBut then not one novelist in a thousand\\never does tell us the real story of their hero.\\nThey linger for a dozen pages over a tea-\\nparty, but sum up a life s history with he had\\nbecome one of our merchant-princes, or, he\\nwas now a great artist, with the whole world\\nat his feet. Why, there is more real life in", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0046.jp2"}, "47": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 41\\none of Gilbert s patter-songs than in half the\\nbiographical novels ever written. He relates\\nto us all the various steps by which his office-\\nboy rose to be the ruler of the Queen s\\nnavee, and explains to us how the briefless\\nbarrister managed to become a great and good\\njudge, ready to try this breach of promise of\\nmarriage. It is in the petty details, not in\\nthe great results, that the interest of existence\\nlies.\\nWhat we really want is a novel showing us\\nall the hidden under-eurrent of an ambitious\\nman s career his struggles, and failures, and\\nhopes, his disappointments amd victories. It\\nwould be an immense success. I am sure the\\nwooing of Fortune would prove quite as inter-\\nesting a tale as the wooing of any flesh and\\nblood maiden, though, by the way, it would\\nread extremely similar; for Fortune is, indeed,\\nas the ancients painted her, very like a woman\\nnot quite so unreasonable and inconsistent,\\nbut nearly so and the pursuit is much the\\nsame in one case as in the other. Ben Jon-\\nson s couplet\\nCourt a mistress, she denies you\\nLet her alone, she will court you\\nputs them both in a nutshell. A woman never\\nthoroughly cares for her lover until he has\\nceased to care for her; and it is not until you\\nhave snapped your fingers in Fortune s face,\\nand turned on your heel, that she begins to\\nsmile upon you.\\nBut, by that time, you do not much care", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0047.jp2"}, "48": {"fulltext": "42 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nwhether she smiles or frowns. Why could she\\nnot have smiled when her smiles would have\\nthrilled you with ecstasy? Everything comes\\ntoo late in this world.\\nGood people say that it is quite right and\\nproper that it should be so, and that it proves\\nambition is wicked.\\nBosh! Good people are altogether wrong,\\n(They always are, in my opinion. We never\\nagree on any single point.) What would the\\nworld do without ambitious people, I should\\nVike to know? Why, it would be as flabby as a\\nNorfolk dumpling. Ambitious people are the\\nleaven which raises into wholesome bread.\\nWithout ambitious people, the world would\\nnever get up. They are busybodies who are\\nabout early in the morning, hammering,\\nshouting and rattling the fire-irons, and ren-\\ndering it generally impossible for the rest of\\nthe house to remain in bed.\\nWrong to be ambitious, forsooth The men\\nwrong, who, with bent back and sweating\\nbrow, cut the smooth road over which Human-\\nity marches forward from generation to genera-\\ntion Men wrong, for using the talents that\\ntheir Master has entrusted to them for toiling\\nwhile others play!\\nOf course, they are seeking their reward.\\nMan is not given that god-like unselfishness\\nthat thinks only of others good. But in work-\\ning for themselves they are working for us all.\\nWe are so bound together that no man can\\nlabor for himself alone. Each blow he strikes\\nin his own behalf helps to mold the Universe.", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0048.jp2"}, "49": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 43\\nThe stream, in stru ^gling- onward, turns the\\nmill-wheel; the coral insect, fashioning its\\ntiny cells, joins continents to another; and the\\nambitious man, building a pedestal for himself,\\nleaves a monument to posterity. Alexander\\nand Caesar fought for their own ends, but, in\\ndoing so, they put a belt of civilization half\\nround the earth. Stephenson, to win a for-\\ntune, invented the steam-engine and Shakes-\\npeare wrote his plays in order to keep a com-\\nfortable home for Mrs. Shakespeare and the\\nlittle Shakespeares.\\nContented, unambitious people are all very\\nwell in their way. They form a neat, useful\\nbackground for great portraits to be painted\\nagainst and they make a respectable, if not\\nparticularly intelligent, audience for the active\\nspirits of the age to play before. I have not a\\nword to say against contented people so long\\nas they keep quiet. But do not, for goodness\\nsake, let them go strutting about, as they are\\nso fond of doing, crying out that they are the\\ntrue models for the whole species. Why, they\\nare the deadheads, the drones in the great\\nhive, the street crowds that lounge about, gap-\\ning at those who are working.\\nAnd let them not imagine either as they\\nare also fond of doing that they are very wise\\nand philosophical, and that it is a very artful\\nthing to be contented. It may be true that\\n*a contented mind is happy anywhere, but\\nso is a Jerusalem pony, and the consequence is\\nthat both are put anywhere and are treated\\nanyhow. Oh, you need not bother about", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0049.jp2"}, "50": {"fulltext": "44 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nhim, is what is said; he is very contented as\\nhe is, and it would be a pity to disturb him.\\nAnd so your contented party is passed over,\\nand the discontented man gets his place.\\nIf you are foolish enough to be contented,\\ndon t show it, but grumble with the rest; and\\nif you can do with a little, ask for a great\\ndeal. Because if you don t you won t get any.\\nIn this world, it is necessary to adopt the prin-\\nciple pursued by the plaintiff in an action for\\ndamages, and to demand ten times more than\\nyou are ready to accept. If you can feel satis-\\nfied with a hundred, begin by insisting on a\\nthousand; if you start by suggesting a hun-\\ndred, you will only get ten.\\nIt was by not following this simple plan that\\npoor Jean Jaques Rousseaii came to such grief.\\nHe fixed the summit of his earthly bliss at liv-\\ning in an orchard with an amiable woman and\\na cow, and he never attained even that. He\\ndid get as far as the orchard, but the woman\\nwas not amiable, and she brought her mother\\nwith her, and there was no cow. Now, if he\\nhad made up his mind for a large country\\nestate, a houseful of angels, and a cattleshow,\\nhe might have lived tq possess his kitchen gar-\\nden and one head of live stock^ and even pos-\\nsibly have come across that vara avis a really\\namiable woman.\\nWhat a terribly dull affair, too, life must be\\nfor contented people! How heavy the time\\nmust hang upon their hands, and what on\\nearth do they occupy their thoughts with, sup-\\nposing that they have any? Reading the", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0050.jp2"}, "51": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 45\\npaper and smoking- seems to be the intellectual\\nfood of the majority of them, to which the\\nmore energetic add playing the flute and talk-\\ning about the affairs of the next-door neighbor.\\nThey never know the excitement of expecta-\\ntion, nor the stern delight of accomplished\\neffort, such as stir the pulse of the man who\\nhas objects, and hopes, and plans. To the\\nambitious man, life is a brilliant game a\\ngame that calls forth all his tact, and energy,\\nand nerve a game to be won, in the long run,\\nby the quick eye and the steady hand, and yet\\nhaving sufficient chance about its working out\\nto give it all the glorious zest of uncertainty.\\nHe exults in it, as the strong swimmer in the\\nheaving billows, as the athlete in the wrestle,\\nas the soldier in the battle.\\nAnd if he be defeated, he wins the grim joy\\nof fighting; if he loses the race, he, at least,\\nhas had a run. Better to work and fail, than\\nto sleep one s life away.\\nSo, walk up, walk up, walk up. Walk up,\\nladies and gentlemen! walk up, boys and\\ngirls! Show your skill and try j^our strength;\\nbrave your luck, and prove your pluck. Walk\\nup! The show is never closed, and the game\\nis always going. The only genuine sport in\\nall the fair, gentlemen highly respectable and\\nstrictly moral patronized by the nobility,\\nclergy, and gentry. Established in the year\\none, gentlemen, and been flourishing ever\\nsince! walk up. Walk up, ladies and gentle-\\nmen, and take a hand. There are prizes for\\nall, and all can play. There is gold for the", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0051.jp2"}, "52": {"fulltext": "46 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nman and fame for the boy; rank for the\\nmaiden and pleasure for the fool. So walk\\nup, ladies and gentlemen, walk up all prizes,\\nand no blanks for some few win, and as to\\nthe rest, why\\nThe rapture of pursuing\\nIs the prize the vanquished gain.", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0052.jp2"}, "53": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 47\\nON BEING IDLE.\\nNow this is a subject on which I flatter my-\\nself I really am aii fait The gentleman who,\\nwhen I was young, bathed me at wisdom s\\nfont for nine guineas a term no extras used\\nto say he never knew a boy who could do less\\nwork in more time and I remember my poor\\ngrandmother once incidentally observing, in\\nthe course of an instruction upon the use of\\nthe prayer-book, that it was highly improbable\\nthat I should ever do much that I ought to do,\\nbut that she felt convinced, beyond a doubt,\\nthat I should leave undone pretty well everyr\\nthing that I ought to do.\\nI am afraid I have somewhat belied half the\\ndear old lady s prophecy. Heaven help me!\\nI have done a good many things that I ought\\nnot to have done, in spite of my laziness. But\\nI have fully confirmed the accuracy of her\\njudgment so far as neglecting much that I\\nought not to have neglected is concerned.\\nIdling always has been my strong point. I\\ntake no credit to myself in the matter it is a\\ngift. Few possess it. There are plenty of lazy\\npeople and plenty of slow coaches, but a gen-\\nuine idler is a rarity. He is not a man who\\nslouches about with his hands in his pockets.", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0053.jp2"}, "54": {"fulltext": "48 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nOn the contrary, his most startling characteri*\\ntic is that he is always intensely busy.\\nIt is impossible to enjoy idling thorough!)\\nunless one has plenty of work to do. There\\nis no fun in doing nothing when you have\\nnothing to do. Wasting time is merely an oc-\\ncupation then, and a most exhausting one.\\nIdleness, like kisses, to be sweet must be\\nstolen.\\nMany years ago, when I was a young man, I\\nwas taken very ill I never could see myself\\nthat much was the matter with me, except that\\nI had a beastly cold. But I suppose it was\\nsomething very serious, for the doctor said\\nthat I ought to have come to him a month be-\\nfore, and that if it (whatever it was) had gone\\non for another week he would not have\\nanswered for the consequences. It is an ex-\\ntraordinary thing, but I never knew a doctor\\ncalled into any case yet but what it transpired\\nthat another day s delay would have rendered\\ncure hopeless. Our medical guide, philoso-\\npher, and friend is like the hero in a melo-\\ndrama, he always comes upon the scene just,\\nand only just, in the nick of time. It is Provi-\\ndence, that is what it is.\\nWell, as I was saying, I was very ill, and was\\nordered to Buxton for a month, with strict in-\\njunctions to do nothing whatever all the while\\nthat I was there. Rest is what you require,\\nsaid the doctor, perfect rest.\\nIt seemed a delightful prospect. This man\\nevidently understands my complaint, said I,\\nand I pictured to myself a glorious time a", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0054.jp2"}, "55": {"fulltext": "Rest is what you require, said the doctor.\\nIdle Thouglits of an Idle Fellow.\\nPacre 48.", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0055.jp2"}, "56": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0056.jp2"}, "57": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 49\\nfour weeks dolce far nmete with a dash of ill-\\nness in it. Not too much illness, but Just ill-\\nness enough just sufficient to give it the flavor\\nof suffering, and make it poetical. I should\\nget up late, sip chocolate, and have my break-\\nfast in slippers and a dressing-gown. I should\\nlie out in the garden in a hammock, and read\\nsentimental novels with a melancholy ending,\\nuntil the book would fall from my listless\\nhand, and I should recline there, dreamily gaz-\\ning into the deep blue of the firmament, watch-\\ning the fleecy clouds floating like white-sailed\\nships across its depths, and listening to the\\njoyous song of the birds and the low rustling\\nof the trees. Or, when I became too weak to\\ngo out of doors, I should sit propped up with\\npillows, at the open window of the ground\\nfloor front, and look wasted and interesting, so\\nthat all the pretty girls would sigh as they\\npassed by.\\nAnd, twice a day, I should go down in a\\nBath chair to the Colonnade, to drink the\\nwaters. Oh, those waters! I knew nothing\\nabout them then, and was rather taken with\\nthe idea. Drinking the waters sounded\\nfashionable and Queen Anneified, and I\\nthought I should like them. But, ugh! after\\nthe first three or four mornings! Sam Weller s\\ndescription of them, as having a taste of\\nwarm flat-irons, conveys only a faint idea of\\ntheir hideous nauseousness. If anything could\\nmake a sick man get well quickly, it would be\\nthe knowledge that he must drink a glassful of\\nthem every day until he was recovered. I\\n4 Idle Thoughts", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0057.jp2"}, "58": {"fulltext": "50 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\ndrank them neat for six consecutive days, and\\nthey nearly killed me; but, after then, I\\nadopted the plan of taking a stiff glass of\\nbrandy and water immediately on the top of\\nthem, and found much relief thereby. I have\\nbeen informed since, by various eminent med-\\nical gentl.emen that the alcohol must have en-\\ntirely counteracted the effects of the chalybeate\\nproperties contained in the water. I am glad\\nI was lucky enough to hit upon the right thing.\\nBut drinking the waters was only a small\\nportion of the torture I experienced during\\nthat memorable month, a month which was,\\nwithout exception, the most miserable I have\\never spent. During the best part of it, I relig-\\niously followed the doctor s mandate, and did\\nnothing whatever except moon about the house\\nand garden, and go out for two hours a day in\\na Bath chair. That did break the monotony\\nto a certain extent. There is more excitement\\nabout Bath -chairing especially if you are not\\nused to the exhilarating exercise than might\\nappear to the casual observer. A sense of\\ndanger, such as a mere outsider might not un-\\nderstand, is ever present to the mind of the\\noccupant. He feels convinced every minute\\nthat the whole concern is going over, a convic-\\ntion which becomes especially lively whenever\\na ditch or a stretch of newly macadamized\\nroad comes in sight. Every vehicle that passes\\nhe expects is going to run into him; and he\\nnever finds himself ascending or descending a\\nhill, without immediately beginning to specu-\\nlate upon his chances, supposing as seems ex-", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0058.jp2"}, "59": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 61\\ntremely probable that the weak-kneed con-\\ntroller of his destiny should let go.\\nBut even this diversion failed to enliven\\nafter a while, and the ennui became perfectly-\\nunbearable. I felt my mind giving away un-\\nder it. It is not a strong mind, and I thought\\nit would be unwise to tax it too far. So some-\\nwhere about the twentieth morning, I got up\\nearly, had a good breakfast, and walked\\nstraight off to Hay field at the foot of the Kin-\\nder Scout a pleasant, busy little town, reached\\nthrough a lovely valley, and with two sweetly\\npretty women in it. At least they were sweetly\\npretty then; one passed me on the bridge,\\nand, I think, smiled; and the other was stand-\\ning at an open door, making an unremunera-\\ntive investment of kisses upon a red-faced\\nbaby. But it is years ago, and I dare say they\\nhave both grown stout and snappish since that\\ntime. Coming back, I saw an old man break-\\ning stones, and it roused such strong longing\\nin me to use my arms, that I offered him a\\ndrink to let me take his place. He was a kindly\\nold man, and he humored me. I went for\\nthose stones with the accumulated energy of\\nthree weeks, and did more work in half an hour\\nthan he had done all day. But it did not make\\nhim jealous.\\nHaving taken the plunge, I went further and\\nfurther into dissipation, going out for a long-\\nwalk every morning, listening to the band in\\nthe Pavilion every evening. But the days still\\npassed slowly notwithstanding, and I was\\nheartily glad when the last one came, and I", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0059.jp2"}, "60": {"fulltext": "52 IDLETHOUGHTSOF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nwas being whirled away from gouty, consump-\\ntive Buxton to London with its stern work and\\nlife. I looked out of the carriage as we rushed\\nthrough Hendon in the evening. The lurid\\nglare over-hanging the mighty city seemed to\\nmy warm heart, and when, later on, my cab\\nrattled out of St. Pancra s station, the old fa-\\nmiliar roar that came swelling up around me\\nsounded the sweetest music I had heard for\\nmany a long day.\\nI certainly did not enjoy that month s idling.\\nI like idling when I ought not to be idling; not\\nwhen it is the only thing I have to do. That\\nis my pig-headed nature. The time when I\\nlike best to stand with my back to the fire, cal-\\nculating how much I owe, is when my desk is\\nheaped highest with letters that must be\\nanswered by the next post. When I like to\\ndawdle longest over my dinner, is when I have\\na heavy evening s work before me. And if,\\nfor some urgent reason, I ought to be up par-\\nticularly early in the morning, it is then, more\\nthan any other time, that I love to lie an extra\\nhalf-hour in bed.\\nAh how delicious it is to turn over and go to\\nsleep again: just for five minutes. Is there\\nany human being, I wonder, besides the hero\\nof a Sunday-school tale for boys, who ever\\ngets up willingly? There are some men to\\nwhom getting up at the proper time is an utter\\nimpossibility. If eight o clock happens to be\\nthe time that they should turn out, then they\\nlie till half-past. If circumstances change, and\\nhalf-past eight becomes early enough for them,", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0060.jp2"}, "61": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 53\\nthen it is nine before they can rise; they are\\nlike the statesman of whom it was said that he\\nwas always punctually half an hour late.\\nThey try all manner of schemes. They buy\\nalarm clocks (artful contrivances, they go off\\nat the wrong- time, and alarm the wrong peo-\\nple). They tell Sarah Jane to knock at the door\\nand call them, and Sarah Janes does knock at\\nthe door, and does call them, and they grunt\\nback *awri, and then go comfortably to\\nsleep again. I knew one man who would\\nactually get out and have a cold bath; and\\neven that was of no use, for, afterward, he\\nwould jump into bed again to warm himself.\\nI think myself that I could keep out of bed all\\nright, if I once got out. It is the wrenching\\naway of the head from the pillow that I find so\\nhard, and no amount of over-night determina-\\ntion makes it easier. I say to myself, after\\nhaving wasted the whole evening, Well, I\\nwon t do any more work to-night; I ll get up\\nearly to-morrow morning; and I am thor-\\noughly resolved to do so then. In the morn-\\ning, however, I feel less enthusiastic about the\\nidea, and reflect that it would have been much\\nbetter if I had stopped up last night. And\\nthen there is the trouble of dressing, and the\\nmore one thinks about that, the more one\\nwants to put it off.\\nIt is a strange thing this bed, this mimic\\ngrave, where we stretch our tired limbs, and\\nsink away so quietly into the silence and rest.\\nOh, bed, oh, bed, delicious bed, that heaven\\non earth to the weary head, as sang poor", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0061.jp2"}, "62": {"fulltext": "54 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nHood, you are a kind old nurse to us fretful\\nboys and girls. Clever and foolish, naughty\\nand good, you take us all in your motherly lap,\\nand hush our wayward crying. The strong\\nman full of care the sick man full of pain\\nthe little maiden, sobbing for her faithless lov-\\ner like children, we lay our aching heads on\\nyour white bosom, and you gently soothe us\\noff to by-by.\\nOur trouble is sore indeed, when you turn\\naway, and will not comfort us. How long the\\ndawn seems coming, when we cannot sleep!\\nOh! those hideous nights, when we toss and\\nturn in fever and pain, when we lie, like living\\nmen among the dead, staring out into the dark\\nhours that drift so slowly between us and the\\nlight. And oh those still more hideous nights,\\nwhen we sit by another in pain, when the low\\nfire startles us every now and then with a fall-\\ning cinder, and the tick of the clock seems a\\nhammer, beating out the life that w^e are\\nwatching.\\nBut enough of beds and bedrooms. I have\\nkept to them too long, even for an idle fellow.\\nLet us come out, and have a smoke. That\\nwastes time just as well, and does not look so\\nbad. Tobacco has been a blessing to us idlers.\\nWhat the civil service clerks before Sir Walt-\\ner s time found to occupy their minds with,\\nit is hard to imagine. I attribute the quar-\\nrelsome nature of the Middle Ages young\\nmen entirely to the want of the soothing weed.\\nThey had no work to do, and could not smoke,\\nand the consequence was they were forever", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0062.jp2"}, "63": {"fulltext": "IDLETHOUGHTSOF AN IDLE FELLOW. 55\\nfig-hting and rowing. If, by any extraordinary\\nchance, there was no war going, then they\\ngot up a deadly family feud with the next-door\\nneighbor, and if, in spite of this, they still had\\na few spare moments on their hands, they\\noccupied them with discussions as to whose\\nsweetheart was the best looking, the argu-\\nments employed on both sides being battle-\\naxes, clubs, etc. Questions of taste were soon\\ndecided in those days. When a twelfth century\\nyouth fell in love, he did not take three paces\\nbackward, gaze into her eyes, and tell her she\\nwas too beautiful to live. He said he would\\nstep outside and see about it. And if, when\\nhe got out, he met a man and broke his head\\nthe other man s head, I mean then that\\nproved that his the first fellow s girl was a\\npretty girl. But if the other fellow broke his\\nhead not his own you know, but the other\\nfellow s the other fellow to the second fel-\\nlow, that is, because of course the other fellow\\nwould only be the other fellow to him, not the\\nfirst fellow, who well, if he broke his head,\\nthen his girl\u00e2\u0080\u0094 not the other fellow s, but the\\nfellow who was the Look here, if A broke\\nB s head, then A s girl was a pretty girl: but\\nif B broke A s head, then A s girl wasn t a\\npretty girl, but B s girl was. That was their\\nmethod of conducting art criticism.\\nNowadays we light a pipe, and let the girls\\nfight it out among themselves.\\nThey do it very well. They are getting to\\ndo all our work. They are doctors, and barris-\\nters, and artists. They manage theatres, and", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0063.jp2"}, "64": {"fulltext": "56 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\npromote swindles, and edit newspapers. I\\nam looking forward to the time when we men\\nshall have nothing to do but lie in bed till\\ntwelve, read two novels a day, have nice little\\nfive o clock teas all to ourselves, and tax our\\nbrains with nothing more trying than discus-\\nsions upon the latest patterns in trousers, and\\narguments as to what Mr. Jones s coat was\\nmade of, and whether it fitted him. It is a\\nglorious prospect for idle fellows.", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0064.jp2"}, "65": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 57\\nON BEING IN LOVE.\\nYou ve been in love, of course! If not\\nj^ou ve got it to come. Love is like the\\nmeasles; we all have to go through it. Also\\nlike the measles, we take it only once. One\\nneed never be afraid of catching it a second\\ntime. The man who has had it can go into\\nthe most dangerous places, and play the most\\nfoolhardy tricks with perfect safety. He can\\npicnic in shady woods, ramble through leafy\\naisles, and linger on mossy seats to watch the\\nsunset. He fears a quiet, country house no\\nmore than he would his ov^n club. He can\\njoin a family party to go down the Rhine. He\\ncan, to see the last of a friend, venture into\\nthe very jaws of the marriage ceremony itself.\\nHe can keep his head through the whirl of a\\nravishing waltz, and rest afterv\\\\rard in a dark\\nconservatory, catching nothing more lasting\\nthan a cold. He can iDrave a moonlight walk\\nadown sweet-scented lanes, or a twilight pull\\namong the sombre rushes. He can get over\\na stile without danger, scramble through a\\ntangled hedge without being caught, come\\ndown a slippery path without falling. He can\\nlook into sunny eyes, and not be dazzled. He\\nlistens to the siren voices, yet sails on with\\nunveered helm. He clasps white hands in", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0065.jp2"}, "66": {"fulltext": "58 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nhis, but no electric Lulu like force holds\\nhim bound in their dainty pressure.\\nNo, he never sickens with love twice. Cupid\\nspends no second arrow on the same heart.\\nLove s handmaids are our life-long friends.\\nRespect, and Admiration, and Affection, our\\ndoors may always be left open for, but their\\ngreat celestial master, in his royal progress,\\npays but one visit, and departs. We like, we\\ncherish, we are very, very fond of but we\\nnever love again. A man s heart is a fire-\\nwork that once in its time flashes heavenward.\\nMeteor-like, it blazes for a moment, and lights\\nwith its glory the whole world beneath. Then\\nthe night of our sordid commonplace life\\ncloses in around it, and the burnt-out case,\\nfalling back to earth, lies useless and uncared\\nfor, slowly smouldering into ashes. Once,\\nbreaking loose from our prison bonds, we dare,\\nas mighty old Prometheus dared, to scale the\\nOlympian mount, and snatch from Phoebus s\\nchariot the fire of the gods. Happy those\\nwho, hastening down again ere it dies out, can\\nkindle their earthly altars at its flame. Love\\nis too pure a light to burn long among the\\nnoisome gases that we breathe, but before it is\\nchoked out we may use it as a torch to ignite\\nthe cosy fire of affection.\\nAnd, after all, that warming glow is more\\nsuited to our cold little back-parlor of a world\\nthan is the burning spirit, love. Love should\\nbe the vestal fire of some mighty temple^\\nsome vast dim fane whose organ music is the\\nrolling of the spheres. Affection will burn", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0066.jp2"}, "67": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 59\\ncheerfully when the white flame of love is flick-\\nered out. Affection is a fire that can be fed\\nfrom day to day, and be piled up ever higher\\nas the wintry years draw nig-h. Old men and\\nwomen can sit by it with their thin hands\\nclasped, the little children can nestle down in\\nfront, the friend and neighbor has his welcome\\ncorner by its side, and even shaggy Fido and\\nsleek Titty can toast their noses at the bars.\\nLet us heap the coals of kindness upon that\\nfire. Throw on your pleasant words, your gen-\\ntle pressures of the hand, your thoughtful and\\nunselfish deeds. Fan it with good-humor,\\npatience and forbearance. You can let the\\nwind blow and the rain fall unheeded then, for\\nyour hearth will be warm and bright, and the\\nfaces round it will make sunshine in spite of\\nthe clouds without.\\nI am afraid, dear Edwin and Angelina, you\\nexpect too much from love. You think there\\nis enough of your little hearts to feed this\\nfierce, devouring passion for all your long\\nlives. Ah, young folk! don t rely too much\\nupon that unsteady flicker. It will dwindle\\nand dwindle as the months roll on, and there\\nis no replenishing the fuel. You will watch\\nit die out in anger and disappointment. To\\neach it will seem that it is the other who is\\ngrowing colder. Edwin sees with bitterness\\nthat Angelina no longer runs to the gate to\\nmeet him, all smiles and blushes; and when\\nhe has a cough now, she doesn t begin to cry,\\nand putting her arms round his neck, say that\\nshe cannot live without him. The most she", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0067.jp2"}, "68": {"fulltext": "60 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nwill probably do is to stigg-est a lozenge, and\\neven that in a tone implying that it is the noise\\nmore than anything else she is anxious to get\\nrid of.\\nPoor little Angelina, too, sheds silent tears,\\nfor Edwin has given up carrying her old hand-\\nkerchief in the inside pocket of his waistcoat.\\nBoth are astonished at the falling off of the\\nother one, but neither sees their own change.\\nIf they did, they would not suffer as they do.\\nThey would look for the cause in the right\\nquarter in the littleness of poor human nature\\njoin hands over their common failing, and\\nstart building their house anew on a more earth-\\nly and enduring foundation. But we are so blind\\nto our own shortcomings, so wide awake to\\nthose of others. Everything that happens to\\nus is always the other person s fault. Ange-\\nlina v/ould have gone on loving Edwin forever\\nand ever and ever, if only Edwin had not\\ngrown so strange and different. Edwin would\\nhave adored Angelina through eternity, if\\nAngelina had only remained the same as when\\nhe first adored her.\\nIt is a cheerless hour for you both, when\\nthe lamp of love has gone out, and the fire of\\naffection is not yet lit, and you have to grope\\nabout in the cold raw dawn of life to kindle it.\\nGod grant it catches light before the day is too\\nfar spent. Many sit shivering by the dead\\ncoals till night comes.\\nBut, there, of what use is it to preach? Who\\nthat feels the rush of young love through his\\nveins can think it will ever flow feeble and", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0068.jp2"}, "69": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 61\\nslow! To the boy of twenty, it seems impos-\\nsible that he will not love as wildly at sixty as\\nhe does then. He cannot call to mind any\\nmiddle-aged or elderly gentleman of his ac-\\nquaintance who is known to exhibit symptoms\\nof frantic attachment, but that does not inter-\\nfere in his belief in himself. His love will\\nnever fail, whoever else s may. Nobody ever\\nloved as he loves, and so, of course, the rest of\\nthe world s experience can be no guide in his\\ncase. Alas, alas! ere thirty, he has joined the\\nranks of the sneerers. It is not his fault.\\nOur passions, both the good and bad, cease\\nwith our blushes. We do not hate, nor grieve\\nnor joy, nor despair in our thirties like we did\\nin our teens. Disappointment does not sug-\\ngest suicide, and we quaff success without in-\\ntoxication.\\nWe take all things in a minor key as we\\ngrow older. There are few majestic passages\\nin the later acts of life s opera. Ambition\\ntakes a less ambitious aim. Honor becomes\\nmore reasonable and conveniently adapts\\nitself to circumstances. And love love dies.\\nIrreverence for the dreams of youth soon\\ncreeps like a chilling frost upon our hearts.\\nThe tender shoots and expanding flowers are\\nnipped and withered, and, of a vine that\\nyearned to stretch its tendrils round the world,\\nthere is left but a sapless stump.\\nMy fair friends will deem all this rank\\nheresy, I know. So far from a man s not lov-\\ning after he, has passed boyhood, it is not till\\nthere is a good deal of gray in his hair that they", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0069.jp2"}, "70": {"fulltext": "62 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nthink his protestations at all worthy of atten-\\ntion. Young ladies take their notions of our\\nsex from the novels written by their own, and,\\ncompared with the monstrosities that masque-\\nrade for men in the pages of that nightmare\\nliterature, Pythagoras s plucked bird and\\nFrankenstein s demon were fair average speci-\\nmens of humanity.\\nIn these so-called books, the chief lover, or\\nGreek god, as he is admiringly referred to \u00e2\u0080\u0094by\\nthe way, they do not say which Greek god\\nit is that the gentleman bears such a striking\\nlikeness to, it might be hump-backed Vulcan,\\nor double-faced Janus, or even driveling Sile-\\nnus, the god of abstruse mysteries. He resem-\\nbles the whole family of them, however, in\\nbeing a blackguard, and perhaps this is what\\nis meant. To even the little manliness his\\nclassical prototypes possessed, though, he can\\nlay no claim whatever, being a listless, effemi-\\nnate noodle, on the shady side of forty. But\\noh! the depth and strength of this elderly\\nparty s emotion for some bread-and-butter\\nschool-girl! Hide your heads, 3^e young\\nRomeos and Leanders, this blase old beau\\nloves with an hysterical fervor that requires\\nfour adjectives to every noun to properly de-\\nscribe.\\nIt is well, dear ladies, for us old sinners,\\nthat you study only books. Did you read man-\\nkind, you would know that the lad s shy stam-\\nmering tells a truer tale than our bold elo-\\nquence. A boy s love comes from a full heart;\\na man s is more often the result of a full", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0070.jp2"}, "71": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 63\\nStomach. Indeed, a man s sluggish current\\nmay not be called love, compared with the\\nrushing fountain that wells up, when a boy s\\nheart is struck with the heavenly rod. If you\\nwould taste love, drink of the pure stream that\\nyouth pours out at your feet. Do not wait till it\\nhas become a muddy river before you stoop to\\ncatch its waves.\\nOr is it that you like its bitter flavor; that\\nthe clear, limpid water is insipid to your pal-\\nate, and that the pollution of its after-course\\ngives it a relish to your lips? Must we believe\\nthose who tell us that a hand foul with the\\nfilth of a shameful life is the only one a young\\ngirl cares to be caressed by?\\nThat is the teaching that is bawled out day\\nby day, from between those yellow covers.\\nDo they ever pause to think, I wonder, those\\nDevil s Lady-Helps, what mischief they are\\ndoing crawling about God s garden, and tell-\\ning childish Eves and silly Adams that sin is\\nsweet, and that decency is ridiculous and vul-\\ngar? How many an innocent girl do they not\\ndegrade into an evil-minded woman? To how\\nmany a weak lad do they not point out the\\ndirty by-path as the shortest cut to a maiden s\\nheart? It is not as if they wrote of life as it\\nreally is. Speak truth, and right will take care\\nof itself. But their pictures are coarse daubs\\npainted from the sickly fancies of their own\\ndiseased imagination.\\nWe want to think of women not as their\\nown sex would show them as Lorelis luring\\nus to destruction, but as good angels beckon-", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0071.jp2"}, "72": {"fulltext": "64 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\ning us upward. They have more power for\\ngood or evil than they dream of. It is just at\\nthe very age when a man s character is form-\\ning that he tumbles into love, and then the\\nlass he loves has the making or marring of\\nhim. Unconsciously he molds himself to what\\nshe would have him, good or bad. I am sorry\\nto have to be ungallant enough to say that I\\ndo not think they always use their influence\\nfor the best. Too often the female world is\\nbounded hard and fast within the limits of the\\ncommonplace. Their ideal hero is a prince of\\nlittleness, and to become that many a powerful\\nmind, enchanted by love, is lost to life and\\nuse, and name and fame.\\nAnd yet, women, you could make us so\\nmuch better, if you only would. It rests wath\\nyou, more than with all the preachers, to roll\\nthis world a little nearer Heaven. Chivalry\\nis not dead it only sleeps for want of work to\\ndo. It is you who must wake it to noble\\ndeeds. You must be worthy of knightly wor-\\nship. You must be higher than ourselves. It\\nwas for Una that the Red Cross Knight did\\nwar. For no painted, mincing, court dame\\ncould the dragon have been slain. Oh, ladies\\nfair, be fair in mind and soul as well as face,\\nso that brave knights may win glory in your\\nservice! Oh, w^oman, throw off yoor disguis-\\ning cloaks of selfishness, effrontery, and affec-\\ntation! Stand forth once more a queen in\\nyour royal robe of simple purity. A thousand\\nswords, now rusting in ignoble sloth, shall\\nleap from their scabbards to do battle for your", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0072.jp2"}, "73": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 65\\nhonor against wrong. A thousand Sir Rolands\\nshall lay lance in rest, and Fear, Avarice,\\nPleasure, and Ambition shall go down in the\\ndust before your colors.\\nWhat noble deeds were we not ripe for in\\nthe days when we loved? What noble lives\\ncould we not have lived for her sake? Our\\nlove was a religion we could have died for. It\\nwas no mere human creature like ourselves\\nthat we adored. It was a queen that we paid\\nhomage to, a goddess that we worshiped.\\nAnd how madly we did worship And how\\nsweet it was to worship! Ah, lad, cherish love s\\nyoung dream while it lasts You will know,\\ntoo soon, how truly little Tom Moore sang,\\nwhen he said that there was nothing half so\\nsv/eet in life. Even when it brings misery, it\\nis a wild, romantic misery, all unlike the dull,\\nworldly pain of after sorrows. When you have\\nlost her when the light is gone out from your\\nlife, and the world stretches before you a long,\\ndark horror, even then a half enchantment\\nmingles with your despair.\\nAnd who would not risk its terrors to gain\\nits raptures? Ah, what raptures they were?\\nThe mere recollection thrills you. How deli-\\ncious it was to tell her that you loved her, that\\nyou lived for her, that you would die for her\\nHow you did rave, to be sure, what floods of\\nextravagant nonsense you poured forth, and\\noh, how cruel it was of her to pretend not to\\nbelieve you! In what awe you stood of her!\\nHow miserable you were when you had\\noffended her! And yet, how pleasant to be\\n5 Idle Thonghts", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0073.jp2"}, "74": {"fulltext": "66 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nbullied by her, and to sue for pardon without\\nhaving the slightest notion of what your fault\\nwas! How dark the world was when she\\nsnubbed you, as she often did, the little rogue,\\njust to see yau look wretched how sunny when\\nshe smiled! How jealous you were of every\\none about her! How you hated every man\\nshe shook hands with, every woman she kissed\\nthe maid that did her hair, the boy that\\ncleaned her shoes, the dog she nursed though\\nyou had to be respectful to the last-named!\\nHow you looked forward to seeing her, how\\nstupid you were when you did see her, staring\\nat her without saying a word! How impos-\\nsible it was for you to go out at any time of the\\nday or night without finding yourself event-\\nually opposite her windows! You hadn t pluck\\nenough to go in, but you hung about the cor-\\nner and gazed at the outside. Oh, if the house\\nhad only caught fire it was insured, so it\\nwouldn t have mattered and you could have\\nrushed in and saved her at the risk of your\\nlife, and have been terribly burnt and injured!\\nAnything to serve her. Even in little things\\nthat was so sweet. How you would watch her,\\nspaniel-like, to anticipate her slightest wish!\\nHow proud you were to do her bidding! How\\ndelightful it was to be ordered about by her!\\nTo devote your whole life to her, and to never\\nthink of yourself, seemed such a simple thing.\\nYou would go without a holiday to lay a hum-\\nble offering at her shrine, and felt more than\\nrepaid if she only deigned to accept it. How\\nprecious to you was everything that she had", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0074.jp2"}, "75": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 67\\nhallowed by her touch her little glove, the\\nribbon she had worn, the rose that had nestled\\nin her hair, and whose withered leaves still\\nmark the poems you never care to look at now.\\nAnd oh, how beautiful she was, how won-\\ndrous beautiful! It was as some angel enter-\\ning the room, and all else became plain and\\nearthly. She was too sacred to be touched. It\\nseemed almost presumption to gaze at her.\\nYou would as soon have thought of kissing her\\nas of singing comic songs in a cathedral. It\\nwas desecration enough to kneel and timidly\\nraise the gracious little hand to your lips.\\nAh, those foolish days, those foolish days,\\nwhen we were unselfish, and pure-minded;\\nthose foolish days, when our simple hearts\\nwere full of truth, and faith, and reverence!\\nAh, those foolish days of noble longings and of\\nnoble strivings! And oh, these wise, clever\\ndays, when we know that money is the only\\nprize worth striving for, when we believe in\\nnothing else but meanness and lies, when we\\ncare for no living creature but ourselves!", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0075.jp2"}, "76": {"fulltext": "68 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nON THE WEATHER.\\nThings do go so contrary-like with me. I\\nwanted to hit upon an especially novel, out-of-\\nthe-way subject for one of these articles. I\\nwill write one paper about something alto-\\ngether new, I said to myself; something\\nthat nobody else has ever written or talked\\nabout before and then I can have it all my\\nown way. And I went about for days, trying\\nto think of something of this kind, and I\\ncouldn t. And Mrs. Cutting, our charwoman,\\ncame yesterday I don t mind mentioning her\\nname, because I know she will not see this\\nbook. She would not look at such a frivolous\\npublication. She never reads anything but the\\nBible and Llo3^d s Weekly News. All other\\nliterature she considers unnecessary and sinful.\\nShe said: Lor sir, you do look worried.\\nI said: Mrs. Cutting, I am trying to think\\nof a subject, tne discussion of which will come\\nupon the world in the nature of a startler\\nsome subject upon which no previous human\\nbeing has ever said a w^ord some subject that\\nwill attract by its novelty, invigorate by its\\nsurprising freshness.\\nShe laughed, and said I was a funny gentle-\\nman.\\nThat s my luck again. When I make serious", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0076.jp2"}, "77": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 69\\nobservations, people chuckle when I attempt\\na joke, nobody sees it. I had a beautiful one\\nlast week. I thought it so good, and I worked\\nit up, and brought it in artfully at a dinner-\\nparty. I forgot how exactly, but v/e had been\\ntalking about the attitude of Shakespeare\\ntoward the Reformation, and I said something,\\nand immediately added: Ah, that reminds\\nme such a funny thing happened the other\\nday in Whitechapel. Oh, said they;\\nwhat was that? Oh, twas awfully funny,\\nI replied, beginning to giggle myself; it will\\nmake you roar; and I told it them.\\nThere was dead silence when I finished it\\nwas one of those long jokes, too, and then, at\\nlast, somebody said: And that was the joke?\\nI assured them that it was, and they were\\nvery polite, and took my word for it. AH but\\none old gentleman, at the other end of the\\ntable, who wanted to know which was the joke\\nwhat he said to her, or what she said to him\\nand we argued it out.\\nSome people are too much the other way. I\\nknew a fellow once, whose natural tendency to\\nlaugh at everything was so strong that, if you\\nwanted to talk seriously to him, you had to ex-\\nplain beforehand that what you were going to\\nsay would not be amusing. Unless you got\\nhim to clearly understand this, he would go off\\ninto fits of merriment over every word you\\nuttered. I have known him, on being asked\\nthe time, stop short in the middle of the road,\\nslap his leg, and burst into a roar of laughter.\\nOne never dared say anything really funny to", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0077.jp2"}, "78": {"fulltext": "70 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nthat man. A good joke would have killed him\\non the spot.\\nIn the present instance, I vehemently repu-\\ndiated the accusation of frivolity, and pressed\\nMrs. Cutting for practical ideas. She then\\nbecame thoughtful, and hazarded sainplers,\\nsaying that she never heard them spoken much\\nof now, but that they used to be all the rage\\nwhen she was a girl.\\nI declined samplers, and begged her to think\\nagain. She pondered a long while, with a tea-\\ntray in her hands, and at last suggested the\\nweather, which she was sure had been most\\ntrying of late.\\nAnd ever since that idiotic suggestion, I\\nhave been unable to get the weather out of my\\nthoughts, or anything else in.\\nIt certainly is most wretched weather. At\\nall events, it is so, now, at the time I am writ-\\ning, and if it isn t particularly unpleasant\\nwhen I come to be read, it soon will be.\\nIt always is wretched weather, according to\\nus. The weather is like the Government,\\nalways in the wrong. In summer time we say it\\nis stifling; in winter that it is killing; in\\nspring and autumn we find fault with it for be-\\ning neither one thing nor the other, and wish\\nit would make up its mind. If it is fine, we\\nsay the country is being ruined for want of\\nrain if it does rain, we pray for fine weather.\\nIf December passes without snow, we indig-\\nnantly demand to know what has become of our\\ngood old-fashioned winters, and talk as if we\\nhad been cheated out of something we had", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0078.jp2"}, "79": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 71\\nboug-ht and paid for; and when it does snow,\\nour language is a disgrace to a Christian na-\\ntion. We shall never be content until each\\nman makes his own weather and keeps it to\\nhimself.\\nIf that cannot be arranged, we would rather\\ndo without it altogether.\\nYet I think it is only to us in cities that all\\nweather is unwelcome. In her own home, the\\ncountry, Nature is sweet in all her moods.\\nWliat can be more beautiful than the snow,\\nfalling big with mystery in silent softness,\\ndecking the fields and trees with white as if for\\na fairy wedding! And how delightful is a walk\\nwhen the frozen ground rings beneath our\\nswinging tread when our blood tingles in the\\nrare keen air, and the sheep dog s distant bark\\nand children s laughter peals faintly clear like\\nAlpine bells across the open hills! And then\\nskating! scudding with wings of steel across\\nthe swaying ice, making whirring music as we\\nfly. And oh, how dainty is spring Nature at\\nsweet eighteen! When the little, hopeful\\nleaves peep out so fresh and green, so pure and\\nbright, like young lives pushing shyly out into\\nthe bustling world when the fruit-tree blos-\\nsoms, pink and white, like village maidens in\\ntheir Sunday frocks, hide each whitewashed\\ncottage in a cloud of fragile splendor; and the\\ncuckoo s note upon the breeze is wafted\\nthrough the woods! And summer, with its\\ndeep, dark green, and drowsy hum when the\\nrain-drops whisper solemn secrets to the listen-\\ning leaves, and the twilight lingers in the", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0079.jp2"}, "80": {"fulltext": "72 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nlanes And autumn ah, how sadly fair, with\\nits golden glow, and the dying grandeur of its\\ntinted woods its blood-red sunsets, and its\\nghostly evening mists, with its busy murmur\\nof reapers, and its laden orchards, and the call-\\ning of the gleaners, and the festivals of\\npraise\\nThe ver}?- rain, and sleet, and hail seem only\\nNature s useful servants, when found doing\\ntheir simple duties in the country; and the\\nEast Wind himself is nothing worse than a\\nboisterous friend, when we meet him between\\nthe hedgerows.\\nBut in the city, where the painted stucco\\nblisters under the smoky sun, and the sooty\\nrain brings slush and mud, and the snow lies\\npiled in dirty heaps, and the chill blasts whistle\\ndown dingy streets, and shriek round flaring\\ngas-lit corners, no face of Nature charms us.\\nWeather in towns is like a skylark in a count-\\ning-house out of place, and in the way.\\nTowns ought to be covered in, warmed by hot-\\nwater pipes, and lighted by electricity. The\\nweather is a country lass, and does not appear\\nto advantage in town. We liked well enough\\nto flirt with her in the hay-field, but she does\\nnot seem so fascinating when we meet her in\\nPall Mall. There is too much of her there.\\nThe frank, free laugh and hearty voice that\\nsounded so pleasant in the dairy, jars against\\nthe artificiality of town-bred life, and her ways\\nbecome exceedingly trying.\\nJust lately she has been favoring us with\\nalmost incessant rain for about three weeks:", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0080.jp2"}, "81": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 73\\nand I am a demd, damp, moist, unpleasant\\nbody, as Mr. Mantelini puts it.\\nOur next-door neighbor comes out in the\\nback garden every now and then, and says it s\\ndoing the country a world of good not his\\ncoming out into the back garden, but the wea-\\nther. He doesn t understand anything about\\nit, but ever since he started a cucumber frame\\nlast summer, he has regarded himself in the\\nlight of an agriculturist, and talks in this ab-\\nsurd way with the idea of impressing the rest\\nof the terrace with the notion that he is a re-\\ntired farmer. I can only hope that for this\\nonce he is correct, and that the weather really\\nis doing good to something, because it is doing\\nme a considerable amount of damage. It is\\nspoiling both my clothes and my temper. The\\nlatter I can afford, as I have a good supply of\\nit, but it wounds me to the quick to see my\\ndear old hats and trousers, sinking, prema-\\nturely worn and aged, beneath the cold world s\\nblasts and snows.\\nThere was my new spring suit, too. A beau-\\ntiful suit it was, and now it is hanging up so\\nbespattered with mud, I can t bear to look at it.\\nThat was Jim s fault, that was. I should\\nnever have gone out in it that night, if it had\\nnot been for him. I was just trying it on when\\nhe came in. He threw up his arms with a wild\\nyell, the moment he caught sight of it, and ex-\\nclaimed that he had got em again!\\nI said: Does it fit all right behind?\\nSpiffin, old man, he replied. And then\\nhe wanted to know if I was coming out.", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0081.jp2"}, "82": {"fulltext": "74 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nI said no, at first, but he overruled me.\\nHe said that a man with a suit like that had\\nno right to stop indoors. Every citizen, said\\nhe, owes a duty to the public. Each one\\nshould contribute to the general happiness, as\\nfar as lies in his power. Come out, and give\\nthe girls a treat.\\nJim is slangy. I don t know where he picks\\nit up. It certainly is not from me.\\nI said: Do you think it will really please\\nem?\\nHe said it would be like a day in the country\\nto them.\\nThat decided me. It was a lovely evening,\\nand I went.\\nWhen I got home, I undressed and rubbed\\nmyself down with whisky, put my feet in hot\\nwater, and a mustard plaster on my chest, had\\na basin of gruel and a glass of hot brandy and\\nwater, tallowed my nose and went to bed.\\nThese prompt and vigorous measures, aided\\nby a naturally strong constitution, were the\\nmeans of preserving my life; but as for the\\nsuit! Well, there isn t a suit; it s a splash-\\nboard.\\nAnd I did fancy that suit too. But that s\\njust the way. I never do get particularly\\nfond of anything in this world, but what some-\\nthing dreadful happens it. I had a tame rat\\nwhen I was a boy, and I loved that animal as\\nonly a boy would love an old water rat; and,\\none day, it fell into a large dish of gooseberry-\\nfool that was standing to cool in the kitchen,", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0082.jp2"}, "83": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF ANMDLE FELLOW. 75\\nand nobody knew what became of the poor\\ncreature, until the Second helping.\\nI do hate wet weather, in town. At least, it\\nis not so much the wet, as the mud, that I\\nobject to. Somehow or other, I seem to pos-\\nsess an irresistible alluring- power over mud.\\nI have only to show myself in the streets on a\\nmuddy day to be half smothered by it. It all\\ncomes of being so attractive, as the old lady\\nsaid when she was struck by lightning. Other\\npeople can go out on dirty days, and walk\\nabout for hours without getting a speck upon\\nthemselves; while, if I go across the road, I\\ncome back a perfect disgrace to be seen (as,\\nin my boyish days, my poor dear mother used\\noften to tell me). If there were only one dab\\nof mud to be found in the whole of London, I\\nam convinced I should carry it off from all\\ncompetitors.\\nI wish I could return the affection, but I fear\\nI never shall be able to. I have a horror of\\nwhat they call the London particular. I\\nfeel miserable and muggy all through a dirty\\nday, and it is quite a relief to pull one s clothes\\noff and get into bed, out of the way of it all.\\nEverything goes wrong in wet weather. I\\ndon t know how it is, but there always seem to\\nme to be more people, and dogs, and perambu-\\nlators, and cabs, and carts, about in wet\\nweather, than at any other time, and they all\\nget in your way more, and everybody is so\\ndisagreeable except myself and it does make\\nme so wild. And then, too, somehow, I always\\nfind myself carrying more things in wet", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0083.jp2"}, "84": {"fulltext": "76 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nweather than in dry; and, when you have a\\nbag, and three parcels, and a newspaper; and\\nit suddenly comes on to rain, you can t open\\nyour umbrella.\\nWhich reminds me of another phase of the\\nweather that I can t bear, and that is April\\nweather (so-called, because it always comes in\\nMay). Poets think it very nice. As it does\\nnot know its own mind five minutes together,\\nthey liken it to a woman and it is supposed\\nto be very charming on that account. I don t\\nappreciate it, myself. Such lightning change\\nbusiness may be all very agreeable in a girl.\\nIt is no doubt highly delightful to have to do\\nwith a person who grins one moment about\\nnothing at all, and snivels the next for pre-\\ncisely the same cause, and who then giggles,\\nand then sulks, and who is rude, and affec-\\ntionate, and bad-tempered, and jolly, and,\\nboisterous, and silent, and passionate, and\\ncold, and standoffish, and flopping, all in one\\nminute (mind I don t say this. It is those\\npoets. And they are supposed to be connois-\\nseurs of this sort of thing) but in the weather,\\nthe disadvantages of the system are more ap-\\nparent. A woman s tears do not make one\\nwet, but the rain does; and her coldness does\\nnot lay the foundations of asthma and rheu-\\nmatism, as the east wind is apt to. I can pre-\\npare for, and put up with a regularly bad day,\\nbut these ha porth-of-all-sorts kind of days do\\nnot suit me. It aggravates me to see a bright\\nblue sky above me, when I am walking along\\nwet through and there is something so exas-", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0084.jp2"}, "85": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 77\\nperating about the way the stin comes out\\nsmiling after a drenching shower, and seems\\nto say: Lord love you, you don t mean to say\\nyou re wet? Well, I am surprised. Why it\\nwas only my fun.\\nThey don t give you time to open or shut\\nyour umbrella in an English April, especially\\nif it is an automaton one the umbrella I\\nmean, not the April.\\nI bought an automaton once in April, and\\nI did have a time with it I wanted an um-\\nbrella, and I went into a shop in the Strand,\\nand told them so, and they said\\nYes sir; what sort of an umbrella would\\nyou like?\\nI said I should like one that would keep the\\nrain off, and that would not allow itself to\\nbe left behind in a railway carriage.\\nTry an automaton? said the shopman.\\nW^hat s an automaton? said I.\\nOh, it s a beautiful arrangement, replied\\nthe men, with a touch of enthusiasm. It\\nopens and shuts itself.\\nI bought one, and found that he was quite\\ncorrect. It did open and shut itself. I had\\nno control over it whatever. When it began\\nto rain, which it did, that season, every alter-\\nnate five minutes, I used to try and get the\\nmachine to open but it would not budge; and\\nthen I used to stand and struggle with the\\nwretched thing, and shake it, and swear at it,\\nwhile the rain poured down in torrents. Then\\nthe moment the rain ceased, the absurd thing\\nwould go up suddenly with a jerk, and would", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0085.jp2"}, "86": {"fulltext": "78 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nnot come down again; and I had to walk about\\nunder a bright blue sky, with an umbrella over\\nmy head, wishing- that it would come on to\\nrain again, so that it might not seem that I\\nwas insane.\\nWhen it did shut, it did so unexpectedly,\\nand knocked one s hat off.\\nI don t know why it should be so, but it is an\\nundeniable fact that there is nothing makes a\\nman look so supremely ridiculous as losing his\\nhat. The feeling of helpless misery that\\nshoots down one s back on suddenly becoming\\naware that one s head is bare is among the\\nmost bitter ills the flesh is heir to. And then\\nthere is the wild chase after it, accompanied\\nby an excitable small dog, who thinks it is a\\ngame, and in the course of which you are cer-\\ntain to upset three or four innocent children\\nto say nothing of their mothers butt a fat\\nold gentleman on to the top of the perambu-\\nlator, and cannon off a ladies seminary into\\nthe arms of a wet sweep. After this, the\\nidiotic hilarity of the spectators, and the dis-\\nreputable appearance of the hat, when recov-\\nered, appear but of minor importance.\\nAltogether, what between March winds,\\nApril showers, and the entire absence of May\\nflowers, spring is not a success in cities. It\\nis all very well in the country, as I have said,\\nbut in towns whose population is anything\\nover ten thousand, it most certainly ought to\\nbe abolished. In the world s grim workshops,\\nit is like the children out of place. Neither\\nshow to advantage amidst the dust and din.", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0086.jp2"}, "87": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 79\\nIt seems so sad to see the little dirt-grimed\\nbrats, trying to play in the noisy courts and\\nmuddy streets. Poor little uncared-for un-\\nwanted human atoms, they are not children.\\nChildren are bright-eyed, chubby and shy.\\nThese are dingy, screeching elves, their tiny\\nfaces seared and withered, their baby laughter\\ncracked and hoarse.\\nThe spring of life, and the spring of the year,\\nwere alike meant to be cradled in the green\\nlap of Nature. To us, in the town, spring\\nbrings but its cold winds and drizzling rains.\\nWe must seek it amongst the leafless woods,\\nand the brambly lanes, on the heathy moors,\\nand the great still hills, if we want to feel its\\njoyous breath, and hear its silent voices.\\nThere is a glorious freshness in the spring\\nthere. The scurrying clouds, the open bleak-\\nness, the rushing wind, and the clear bright\\nair, thrill one with vague energies and hopes.\\nLife, like the landscape around us, seems\\nbigger, and wider, and freer a rainbow road,\\nleading to unknown ends. Through the silvery\\nrents that bar the sky, we seem to catch a\\nglimpse of the great hope and grandeur that\\nlies around this little throbbing world, and a\\nbreath of its scent is wafted us on the wings\\nof the wild March wind.\\nStrange thoughts we do not understand are\\nstirring in our hearts. Voices are calling us\\nto some great effort, to some mighty work.\\nBut we do not comprehend their meaning yet,\\nand the hidden echoes within us that would\\nreply are struggling, inarticulate, and dumb.", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0087.jp2"}, "88": {"fulltext": "80 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nWe stretch our hands like children to the\\nlight, seeking to grasp we know not what.\\nOur thoughts, like the boys thoughts in the\\nDanish song, are very long, long thoughts, and\\nvery vague we cannot see their end.\\nIt must be so. All thoughts that peer out-\\nside this narrow world cannot be else than\\ndim and shapeless. The thoughts that we can\\nclearly grasp are very little thoughts that\\ntwo and two make four that when we are\\nhungry it is pleasant to eat that honesty is\\nthe best policy all greater thoughts are unde-\\nfined and vast to our poor childish brains. We\\nsee but dimly through the mists that roll\\naround our time-girt isle of life, and only hear\\nthe distant surging of the great sea beyond.", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0088.jp2"}, "89": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 81\\nON CATS AND DOGS.\\nWhat I ve suffered from them this morning\\nno tongue can tell. It began with Gustavus\\nAdolphus. Gustavus Adolphus (they call\\nhim Gusty, downstairs for short) is a very\\ngood sort of dog, when he is in the middle of\\na large field, or on a fairly extensive common,\\nbut I won t have him indoors. He means well,\\nbut this house is not his size. He stretches\\nhimself, and over go tv/o chairs and a what-\\nnot. He wags his tail, and the room looks as if\\na devastating army had marched through it.\\nHe breathes, and it puts the fire out.\\nAt dinner-time he creeps in under the table,\\nlies there for a while, and then gets up sud-\\ndenly; the first intimation we have of his\\nmovements being given by the table, which\\nappears animated by a desire to turn somer-\\nsaults. We all clutch at it frantically, and\\nendeavor to maintain it in a horizontal posi-\\ntion whereupon his struggles, he being under\\nthe impression that some wicked conspiracy\\nis being hatched against him, become fearful,\\nand the final picture presented is generally\\nthat of an overturned table and a smashed-up\\ndinner, sandwiched between two sprawling\\nlayers of infuriated men and women.\\nHe came in this morning in his usual style,\\n6 Idle Thoughts", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0089.jp2"}, "90": {"fulltext": "82 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nwhich he appears to have founded on that of\\nan American cyclone, and the first thing he\\ndid was to sweep my coffee-cup off the table\\nwith his tail, sending the contents full into\\nthe middle of my waistcoat.\\nI rose from my chair, hurriedly, and remark-\\ning approached him at a rapid rate.\\nHe preceded me in the direction of the door.\\nAt the door, he met Eliza, coming in with\\neggsr. Eliza observed, Ugh! and sat down\\non the floor, the eggs took up different posi-\\ntions about the carpet, where they spread\\nthemselves out, and Gustavus Adolphus left\\nthe room. I called after him, strongly advis-\\ning him to go straight downstairs, and not let\\nme see him again for the next hour or so; and\\nhe, seeming to agree with me, dodged the\\ncoal-scoop, and went; while I returned, dried\\nmyself, and finished breakfast. I made sure\\nthat he had gone into the yard, but when I\\nlooked into the passage ten minutes later, he\\nwas sitting at the top of the stairs. I ordered\\nhim down at once, but he only barked and\\njumped about, so I went to see what was the\\nmatter.\\nIt was Tittums. She was sitting on the top\\nstair but one, and wouldn t let him pass.\\nTittums is our kitten. She is about the size\\nof a penny roll. Her back was up, and she\\nwas swearing like a medical student.\\nShe does swear fearfully. I do a little that\\nway myself sometimes, but I am a mere ama-\\nteur compared with her. To tell you the truth\\nmind, this is strictly between ourselves,", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0090.jp2"}, "91": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 83\\nplease; I shouldn t like your wife to know I\\nsaid it, the women don t understand these\\nthings; but between you and me, you know, I\\nthink it does a man good to swear. Swearing\\nis the safety-valve through which the bad tem-\\nper, that might otherwise do serious internal\\ninjury to his mental mechanism, escapes in\\nharmless vaporing When a man has said,\\nBless you, my dear, sweet sir. What the sun,\\nmoon, and stars made you so careless (if I may\\nbe permitted the expression) as to allow your\\nlight and delicate foot to descend upon my\\ncorn with so much force! Is it that you are\\nphysically incapable of comprehending the\\ndirection in which you are proceeding? you\\nnice, clever young man you! or words to\\nthat effect, he feels better. Swearing has the\\nsame soothing effect upon our angry passions\\nthat smashing the furniture or slamming the\\ndoors is so well known to exercise; added to\\nwhich it is much cheaper. Swearing clears a\\nman out like a pen orth of gunpowder does to\\nthe wash-house chimney. An occasional ex-\\nplosion is good for both. I rather distrust a\\nman who never swears, or savagely kicks the\\nfootstool, or pokes the fire with unnecessary\\nviolence. Without some outlet, the anger\\ncaused by the ever-occurring troubles of life is\\napt to rankle and fester within. The petty\\nannoyance, instead of being thrown from us,\\nsits down beside us, and becomes a sorrow,\\nand the little offence is brooded over till, in\\nthe hot-bed of rumination, it grows into a", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0091.jp2"}, "92": {"fulltext": "84 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\ngreat injury, under whose poisonous shadow\\nsprings up hatred and revenge.\\nSwearing relieves the feelings, that is what\\nswearing does. I explained this to my aunt\\non one occasion, but it didn t answer with her.\\nShe said I had no business to have such feel-\\nings.\\nThat is what I told Tittums. I told her she\\nought to be ashamed of herself, brought up in\\na Christian family as she was, too. I don t so\\nmuch mind hearing an old cat swear, but I\\ncan t bear to see a mere kitten give way to it.\\nIt seems sad in one so young.\\ni put Tittums in my pocket, and returned to\\nmy desk. I forgot her for the moment, and\\nwhen I looked I found that she had squirmed\\nout of my pocket on to the table, and was try-\\ning to swallow the. pen; then she put her leg\\ninto the ink-pot and upset it; then she licked\\nher leg; then she swore again at me this\\ntime.\\nI put her down on the floor, and there Tim\\nbegan rowing with her. I do wish Tim would\\nmind his own business. It was no concern of\\nhis what she had been doing. Besides, he is\\nnot a saint himself. He is only a two-year-old\\nfox terrier, and he interferes with everything,\\nand gives himself the airs of a gray-headed\\nScotch collie.\\nTittums mother has come in, and Tim has\\ngot his nose scratched, for which I am re-\\nmarkably glad. I have put them all three out\\nin the passage, where they are fighting at the\\npresent moment. I m in a mess with the ink,", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0092.jp2"}, "93": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 85\\nand in a thundering bad temper; and if any-\\nthing more in the cat or dog line comes fooling\\nabout me this morning, it had better bring its\\nown funeral contractor with it.\\nYet, in general, I like cats and dogs very\\nmuch, indeed. What jolly chaps they are!\\nThey are much superior to human beings as\\ncompanions. They do not quarrel or argue\\nwith you. They never talk about themselves,\\nbut listen to you while you talk about yourself,\\nand keep up an appearance of being interested\\nin the conversation. They never make stupid\\nremarks. They never observe to Miss Brown\\nacross a dinner- table, that they always under-\\nstood she was very sweet on Mr. Jones (who\\nhas just married Miss Robinson). They never\\nmistake your wife s cousin for her husband,\\nand fancy that you are the father-in-law. And\\nthey never ask a young author with fourteen\\ntragedies, sixteen comedies, seven farces, and\\na couple of burlesques in his desk, why he\\ndoesn t write a play.\\nThey never say unkind things. They never\\ntell us of our faults, merely for our own good.\\nThey do not, at inconvenient moments mildly\\nremind us of our past follies and mistakes.\\nThey do not say, Oh, yes, a lot of use you\\nare, if you are ever really wanted sarcastic\\nlike. They never inform us, like our inamor-\\natas sometimes do, that we are not nearly so\\nnice as we used to be. We are always the same\\nto them.\\nThey are always glad to see us. They are\\nwith us in all our humors. They are merry", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0093.jp2"}, "94": {"fulltext": "86 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nwhen we are glad, sober when we feel solemn,\\nand sad when we are sorrowful.\\nHuUoa! happy, and want a lark! Right\\nyou are; I m your man. Here I am frisking\\nround you, leaping, barking, pirouetting, ready\\nfor any amount of fun and mischief. Look at\\nmy eyes if you doubt me. What shall it be?\\nA romp in the drawing-room, and never mind\\nthe furniture, or a scamper in the fresh, cool\\nair, a scud across the fields, and down the hill,\\nand we won t let old Gaffer Goggles geese\\nknow vrhat time o day it is, neither. Whoop!\\ncome along.\\nOr you d like to be quiet and think. Very\\nwell. Pussy can sit on the arm of the chair\\nand purr, and Montmorency will curl himself\\nup on the rug, and blink at the fire, yet keep-\\ning one eye on you the while, in case you are\\nseized with any sudden desire in the direction\\nof rats.\\nAnd when we bury our face in our hands\\nand wish we had never been born, they don t\\nsit up very straight, and observe that we have\\nbrought it all upon ourselves. They don t\\neven hope it will be a warning to us. But\\nthey come up softly; and shove their heads\\nagainst us. If it is a cat, she stands on yonr\\nshoulder, rumples your hair, and says, *Lor\\nI am sorry for you old man, as plain as words\\ncan speak and if it is a dog, he looks up at\\nyou with his big, true eyes, and says with them,\\n**Well, you ve always got me, you know. We ll\\ngo through the world together, and always\\nstand by each other, won t we?", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0094.jp2"}, "95": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 87\\nHe is very imprudent, a dog is. He never\\nmakes it his business to inquire whether you\\nare in the right or in the wrong, never bothers\\nas to whether you are going tip or down upon\\nlife s ladder, never asks whether you are rich\\nor poor, silly or wise, sinner or saint. You are\\nhis pal. That is enough for him, and, come\\nluck or misfortune, good repute or bad, honor\\nor shame, he is going to stick to you, to com-\\nfort you, guard you and give his life for you,\\nif need be foolish, brainless, soulless dog!\\nAh old staunch friend, with your deep, clear\\neyes, and bright, quick glances, that take in\\nall one has to say before one has time to speak\\nit, do you know you are only an animal, and\\nhave no mind? Do you know that that dull-\\neyed, gin-sodden lout, leaning against the post\\nout there, is immeasurably your intellectual\\nsuperior? Do you know that every little-\\nminded, selfish scoundrel, who lives by cheat-\\ning and tricking, who never did a gentle deed,\\nor said a kind word, who never had a thought\\nthat was not mean and low, or a desire that\\nwas not base, whose every action is a fraud,\\nwhose every utterance is a lie; do you know\\nthat these crawling skulks (and there are mil-\\nlions of them in the world), do you know they\\nare all as much superior to you as the sun is\\nsuperior to rushlight, you honorable, brave-\\nhearted, unselfish brute? They are men, you\\nknow, and men are the greatest, and noblest,\\nand wisest, and best Beings in the whole vast\\neternal Universe. Any man will tell you that.\\nYes, poor doggie, you are very stupid, very", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0095.jp2"}, "96": {"fulltext": "88 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nStupid indeed, compared with us clever men,\\nwho understand all about politics and philos-\\nophy, and who know everything, in short, ex-\\ncept what we are, and where we came from,\\nand whither we are going, and what every-\\nthing outside this tiny w^orld and most things\\nin it are.\\nNever mind, though, pussy and doggy, we\\nlike you both, all the better for your being\\nstupid. We all like stupid things. j\\\\Ien can t\\nbear clever women, and a woman s ideal man\\nis some one she can call a dear old stupid.\\nIt is so pleasant to come across people more\\nstupid than ourselves. We love them at once\\nfor being so. The world must be rather a\\nrough place for clever people. Ordinar}^ folk\\ndislike them, and as for themselves they hate\\neach other most cordially.\\nBut there, the clever people are such a very\\ninsignificant minority that it really doesn t\\nmuch matter if they are unhappy. So long as\\nthe foolish people can be made comfortable,\\nthe world, as a whole, will get on tolerably\\nwell.\\nCats have the credit of being more worldly\\nwise than dogs of looking more after their\\nown interests, and being less blindly devoted\\nto those of their friends. And we men and\\nwomen are naturally shocked at such selfish-\\nness. Cats certainly do love a family that has\\na carpet in the kitchen more than a family\\nthat has not; and if there are many children\\nabout, they prefer to spend their leisure time\\nnext door. But, taken altogether, cats are", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0096.jp2"}, "97": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 89\\nlibeled. Make a friend of one, and she will\\nstick to you through thick and thin. All the\\ncats that I have had have been most firm com-\\nrades. I had a cat once that used to follow me\\nabout everywhere, until it even got quite em-\\nbarrassing, and I had to beg her, as a personal\\nfavor, not to accompany me any further down\\nthe High Street. She used to sit up for me\\nwhen I was late home, and meet me in the\\npassage. It made me feel quite like a married\\nman, except that she never asked where I had\\nbeen, and then didn t believe me when I told\\nher.\\nAnother cat I had used to get drunk regu-\\nlarly every day. She would hang about for\\nhours outside the cellar door for the purpose\\nof sneaking in on the first opportunity, and\\nlapping up the drippings from the beer cask.\\nI do not mention this habit of hers in praise\\nof the species, but merely to show how almost\\nhuman some of them are. If the transmigra-\\ntion of souls is a fact, this animal was cer-\\ntainly qualifying most rapidly for a Christian.\\nFor her vanity was only second to her love of\\ndrink. Whenever she caught a particularly\\nbig rat, she would bring it up into the room\\nwhere we were all sitting, lay the corpse down\\nin the midst of us, and wait to be praised.\\nLord! how the girls used to scream.\\nPoor rats! They seem only to exist so that\\ncats and dogs may gain credit for killing\\nthem, and chemists make a fortune by invent-\\ning specialties in poison for their destruction.\\nAnd yet there is something fascinating about", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0097.jp2"}, "98": {"fulltext": "90 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nthem. There is a weirdness and uncanniness\\nattaching to Lhem. They are so cunning and\\nstrong, so terrible in their numbers, so cruel,\\nso secret. They swarm in deserted houses,\\nwhere the broken casements hang rotting to\\nthe crumbling walls, and the doors swing\\ncreaking on their rusty hinges. They know\\nthe sinking ship, and leave her, no one knows\\nhow or whither. They whisper to each other\\nin their hiding-places, how a doom will fall\\nupon the hall, and the great name die forgot-\\nten. They do fearful deeds in ghastly charnel-\\nhouses.\\nNo tale of horror is complete without the\\nrats. In stories of ghosts and murderers, they\\nscamper through the echoing rooms, and the\\ngnawing of their teeth is heard behind the\\nwainscot, and their gleaming eyes peer\\nthrough the holes in the worm-eaten tapestry,\\nand they scream in shrill, unearthly notes in\\nthe dead of night, while the moaning wind\\nsweeps, sobbing, round the ruined turret tow-\\ners, and passes wailing like a woman through\\nthe chambers bare and tenantless.\\nAnd dying prisoners, in their loathsome dun-\\ngeons, see, through the horrid gloom, their\\nsmall red eyes, like glittering coals, hear, in\\nthe death-like silence, the rush of their claw-\\nlike feet, and start up shrieking in the dark-\\nness, and watch through the awful night.\\nI love to read tales about rats. They make\\nmy flesh creep so. I like that tale of Bishop\\nHatto and the rats. The wicked Bishop, you\\nknow, had ever so much corn, stored in his", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0098.jp2"}, "99": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 91\\ngranaries, and would not let the starving\\npeople touch it, but, when they prayed to him\\nfor food, gathered them together in his barn,\\nand then shutting the doors on them, set fire\\nto the place and burned them all to death.\\nBut next day there came thousands upon thou-\\nsands of rats, sent to do judgment on him.\\nThen Bishop Hatto fled to his strong tower\\nthat stood in the middle of the Rhine, and\\nbarred himself in, and fancied he was safe.\\nBut the rats! they swam the river, they\\ngnawed their way through the thick stone\\nwalls, and ate him alive where he sat.\\nThey had whetted their teeth against the stones,\\nAnd now they picked the Bishop s bones;\\nThey gnawed the flesh from every limb,\\nFor they were sent to do judgment on him.\\nOh, it s a lovely tale.\\nThen there is the story of the Pied Piper of\\nHamelin, how first he piped the rats away,\\nand, afterwards, when the Mayor broke faith\\nwith him, drew all the children along with\\nhim, and went into the mountain. What a\\ncurious old legend that is! I wonder what it\\nmeans, or has it any meaning at all? There\\nseems something strange and deep lying hid\\nbeneath the rippling rhyme. It haunts me,\\nthat picture of the quaint, mysterious old\\npiper, piping through Hamelin s narrow\\nstreets, and the children following with danc-\\ning feet and thoughtful, eager faces. The old\\nfolks try to stay them, but the children pay\\nno heed. They hear the weird, witched music.", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0099.jp2"}, "100": {"fulltext": "92 IDLETHOUGHTSOF AN IDLE FELLOW\\nand must follow. The games are left unfin-\\nished, and the playthings drop from their care-\\nless hands. They know not whither they are\\nhastening. The mystic music calls to them,\\nand they follow, heedless and unasking where.\\nIt stirs and vibrates in their hearts, and other\\nsounds grow faint. So they wander through\\nPied Piper street away from Hamelin town.\\nI get thinking, sometimes, if the Pied Piper\\nis really dead, or if he may not still be roam-\\ning up and down our streets and lanes, but\\nplaying now so softly that only the children\\nhear him. Why do the little faces look so\\ngrave and solemn when the57- pause awhile\\nfrom romping, and stand, deep wrapt, with\\nstraining eyes? They only shake their curly\\nheads, and dart back, laughing, to their play-\\nmates when we question them. But I fancy\\nmyself they have been listening to the magic\\nmusic of the old Pied Piper, and perhaps, with\\nthose bright eyes of theirs, have even seen his\\nodd, fantastic figure, gliding unnoticed\\nthrough the whirl and throng.\\nEven we grown-up children hear his piping\\nnow and then. But the yearning notes are\\nvery far away, and the noisy, blustering world\\nis always bellowing so loud, it drowns the\\ndream-like melody. One day the sweet, sad\\nstrains will sound out full and clear, and then\\nwe too shall, like the little children, throw our\\nplaythings all aside, and follow. The loving\\nhands will be stretched out to stay us, and the\\nvoices we have learnt to listen for will cry to\\nus to stop. But we shall push the fond arms", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0100.jp2"}, "101": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOV/. 93\\ngently back and pass out through the sorrov/-\\ning house and through the open door. For\\nthe wild, strange music will be ringing in our\\nhearts, and we shall know the meaning of its\\nsong by then.\\nI wish people could love animals without\\ngetting maudlin over them, as so many do.\\nWomen are the most hardened offenders in\\nsuch respects, but even our intellectual sex\\noften degrade pets into nuisances by absurd\\nidolatry. There are the gushing young ladies\\nwho, having read David Copperfield, have\\nthereupon sought out a small, long-haired dog\\nof nondescript breed, possessed of an irritat-\\ning habit of criticising a man s trousers, and\\nof finally commenting upon the same by a\\nsniff, indicative of contempt and disgust.\\nThey talk sweet girlish prattle to this animal\\n(when there is any one near enough to over-\\nhear them), and they kiss its nose, and put its\\nunwashed head up against their cheek in a\\nmost touching manner; though I have noticed\\nthat these caresses are principally performed\\nwhen there are young men hanging about.\\nThen there are the old ladies who worship a\\nfat poodle, scant of breath, and full of fleas.\\nI knew a couple of elderly spinsters once who\\nhad a sort of German sausage on legs, which\\nthey called a dog, between them. They used\\nto wash its face with warm water every morn-\\ning. It had a mutton cutlet regularly for\\nbreakfast; and on Sundays, when one of the\\nladies went to church, the other always stopped\\nat home to keep the dog company.", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0101.jp2"}, "102": {"fulltext": "94 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AM IDLE FELLOW.\\nThere are many families where tlie whole in-\\nterest of life is centered upon the dog-. Cats,\\nby the way, rarely suffer from excess of adula-\\ntion. A cat possesses a very fair sense of the\\nridiculous, and will put her paw down kindly,\\nbut firmly, upon any nonsense of this kind.\\nDogs, however, seem to like it. They en-\\ncourage their owners in the tomfoolery, and\\nthe consequence is, that in the circles I am\\nspeaking of, what dear Fido has done, does\\ndo, won t do, will do, can do, can t do, was\\ndoing, is doing, is going to do, shall do, shan t\\ndo, and is about to be going to have done, is\\nthe continual theme of discussion from morn-\\ning till night.\\nAll the conversation, consisting, as it does,\\nof the very dregs of imbecility, is addressed\\nto this confounded animal. The family sit in\\na row all day long, watching him, commenting\\nupon his actions, telling each other anecdotes\\nabout him, recalling his virtues, and remem-\\nbering with tears how one day they lost him\\nfor two whole hours, on which occasion he was\\nbrought home in a most brutal manner by the\\nbutcher boy, who had been met carrying him\\nby the scruff of his neck with one hand, while\\nsoundly cuffing his head with the other.\\nAfter recovering from these bitter recollec-\\ntions, they vie with each other in bursts of\\nadmiration for the brute, until some more than\\nusually enthusiastic member, unable any\\nlonger to control his feelings, swoops down\\nupon the unhappy quadruped in a frenzy of\\naffection, clutches it to his heart, and slobbers", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0102.jp2"}, "103": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 95\\nover it. Whereupon, the others, mad with\\nenvy, rise up, and seizing as much of the dog\\nas greed of the first one has left to them, mur-\\nmur praise and devotion.\\nAmong these people, everything is done\\nthrough the dog. If you want to make love\\nto the eldest daughter, or get the old man to\\nlend you the garden roller, or the mother to\\nsubscribe to the Society for the Suppression of\\nSolo-cornet Players in Theatrical Orchestras\\n(it s a pity there isn t one, anyhow), you\\nhave to begin with the dog. You must gain\\nits approbation before they will even listen to\\nyou, and if, as is highly probable, the animal,\\nwhose frank, doggy nature has been warped\\nby the unnatural treatment he has received,\\nresponds to your overtures of friendship by\\nviciously snapping at you, your cause is lost\\nforever.\\nIf Fido won t take to any one, the father\\nhas thoughtfully remarked beforehand, I say\\nthat man is not to be trusted. You know,\\nMaria, how often I have said that. Ah! he\\nknows, bless him.\\nDrat him\\nAnd to think that the surly brute was once\\nan innocent puppy, all legs and head, full of\\nfun and play, and burning with ambition to\\nbecome a big, good dog, and bark like mother.\\nAh me! life sadly changes us all. The\\nworld seems a vast, horrible grinding machine,\\ninto which what is fresh and bright and pure\\nis pushed at one end, to come out old and\\ncrabbed and wrinkled at the other.", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0103.jp2"}, "104": {"fulltext": "96 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nLook even at Pussy Sobersides, with her\\ndull, sleepy glance, her grave slow walk, and\\ndignified, prudish airs; who could ever think\\nthat once she was the blue-eyed, v/hirling,\\nscampering, head-over-heels, mad little fire-\\nwork that we call a kitten.\\nWhat marvelous vitality a kitten has! It is\\nreally something very beautiful the way life\\nbubbles over in the little creatures. They rush\\nabout, and mew, and spring; dance on their\\nhind legs, embrace everything with their front\\nones, roll over and over and over, lie on their\\nbacks and kick. They don t know what to do\\nwith themselves, they are so full of life.\\nCan you remember, reader, when you and I\\nfelt something of the same sort of thing? Can\\nyou remember those glorious days of fresh\\nyoung manhood; how, when coming home\\nalong the moonlit road, we felt too full of life\\nfor sober walking, and had to spring and skip,\\nand wave our arms, and shout, till belated\\nfarmers w4ves thought and w4th good rea-\\nson, too that we were mad, and kept close to\\nthe hedge, while we stood and laughed aloud\\nto see them scuttle off so fast, and made their\\nblood run cold with a wild parting whoop and\\nthe tears came, we knew not why. Oh, that\\nmagnificent young Life! that crowned us kings\\nof the earth that rushed through ever}^ ting-\\nling vein, till we seemed to walk on air; that\\nthrilled through our throbbing brains, and told\\nus to go forth and conquer the whole world\\nthat welled up in our young hearts, till we\\nlonged to stretch out our arms and gather all", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0104.jp2"}, "105": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 97\\nthe toiling men and women and the little chil-\\ndren to our breast, and love them all all.\\nAh! they were grand days, those deep, full\\ndays, when our coming life, like an unseen\\norgan, peeled strange, yearnful music in our\\nears, and our young blood cried out like a war-\\nhorse for the battle. Ah, our pulse beats slow\\nand steady now, and our old joints are rheu-\\nmatic, and we love our easy-chair and pipe,\\nand sneer at boys enthusiasm. But, oh for\\none brief moment of that god-like life again.\\n7 Idle Thoughts", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0105.jp2"}, "106": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nON BEING SHY.\\nAll great literary men are shy. 1 am myself,\\nthough I am told it is hardly noticeable.\\nI am glad it is not. It used to be extremely\\nprominent at one time, and was the cause of\\nmuch misery to myself, and discomfort to\\nevery one about me my lady friends, espe-\\ncially, complained most bitterly about it.\\nA shy man s lot is not a happy one. The\\nmen dislike him, the women despise him, and\\nhe dislikes and despises himself. Use brings\\nhim no relief, and there is no cure for him\\nexcept time; though I once came across a\\ndelicious receipt for overcoming the misfortune.\\nIt appeared among the answers to corres-\\npondents in a small, weekly journal, and ran\\nas follows I have never forgotten it: Adopt\\nan easy and pleasing manner, especially toward\\nladies.\\nPoor wretch! I can imagine the grin with\\nwhich he must have read that advice. Adopt\\nan easy and pleasing manner, especially toward\\nladies, forsooth Don t you adopt anything\\nof the kind, my dear young shy friend.\\nYour attempt to put on any other disposition\\nthan your own will infallibly result in yonr\\nbecoming ridiculously gushing and offensively", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0106.jp2"}, "107": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 99\\nfamiliar. Be your own natural self, and then\\nyou will only be thought to be surly and stupid.\\nThe shy man does have some slight revenge\\nupon society for the torture it inflicts upon\\nhim. He is able, to a certain extent, to com-\\nmunicate his misery. He frightens other\\npeople as much as they frighten him. He acts\\nlike a damper upon the whole room, and the\\nmost jovial spirits become, in his presence,\\ndepressed and nervous.\\nThis is a good deal brought about by misun-\\nderstanding. Many people mistake the shy\\nman s timidity for overbearing arrogance, and\\nare awed and insulted by it. His awkward-\\nness is resented as insolent carelessness, and\\nwhen, terror-stricken, at the first word ad-\\ndressed to him, the blood rushes to his head,\\nand the power of speech completely fails him,\\nhe is regarded as an awful example of the evil\\neffects of giving way to passion.\\nBut, indeed, to be misunderstood is the shy\\nman s fate on every occasion; and, whatever\\nimpression he endeavors to create, he is sure\\nto convey its opposite. When he makes a joke,\\nit is looked upon as a pretended relation of\\nfact, and his want of veracity much con-\\ndemned. His sarcasm is accepted as his literal\\nopinion, and gains for him the reputation of\\nbeing an ass; while if, on the other hand, wish-\\ning to ingratiate himself, he ventures upon a\\nlittle bit of flattery, it is taken for satire, and\\nhe is hated ever afterwards.\\nThese, and the rest of a shy man s troubles,\\nare always very amusing, to other people; and", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0107.jp2"}, "108": {"fulltext": "100 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nhave afforded material for comic writing from\\ntime immemorial. But if we look a little\\ndeeper, we shall find there is a pathetic, one\\nmight almost say a tragic, side to the picture.\\nA shy man means a lonely man a man cut off\\nfrom all companionship, all sociability. He\\nmoves about the world, but does not mix with\\nit. Between him and his fellow-men there\\nruns ever an impassable barrier a strong,\\ninvisible wall, that trying in vain to scale, he\\nbut bruises himself against. He sees the\\npleasant faces and hears the pleasant voices on\\nthe other side, but he cannot stretch his hand\\nacross to grasp another hand. He stands\\nwatching the merry groups, and he longs to\\nspeak, and to claim kindred with them. But\\nthey pass him by, chatting gaily to one another,\\nand he cannot stay them. He tries to reach\\nthem, but his prison walls move with him,\\nand hem him in on every side. In the busy\\nstreet, in the crowded room, in the grind of\\nwork, in the whirl of pleasure, amidst the\\nman)^ or amidst the few; wherever men\\ncongregate together, wherever the music of\\nhuman speech is heard, and human thought is\\nflashed from human eyes, there, shunned and\\nsolitary, the shy man, like a leper, stands apart.\\nHis soul is full of love and longing, but the\\nworld knows it not. The iron mask of shy-\\nness is riveted before his face, and the man\\nbeneath is never seen. Genial words and\\nhearty greetings are ever rising to his lips,\\nbut they die away in unheard whispers behind\\nthe steel clamps. His heart aches for the", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0108.jp2"}, "109": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 101\\nweary brother, but his sympathy is dumb.\\nContempt and indignation against wrong choke\\nup his throat, and, finding no safety-valve,\\nwhen in passionate utterance they may burst\\nforth, they only turn in again and harm him.\\nAll the hate, and scorn, and love of a deep\\nnature, such as the shy man is ever cursed by,\\nfester and corrupt within, instead of spending\\nthemselves abroad, and sour him into a mis-\\nanthrope and cynic.\\nYes, shy men, like ugly women, have a bad\\ntime of it in this world, to go through which,\\nwith an}^ comfort, needs the hide of a rhino-\\ncerous. Thick skin is, indeed, our moral\\nclothes, and without it we are not fit to be seen\\nabout in civilized society. A poor gasping,\\nblushing creature, with trembling knees and\\ntwitching hands, is a painful sight to every\\none, and if it cannot cure itself, the sooner it\\ngoes and hangs itself the better.\\nThe disease can be cured. For the comfort\\nof the shy, I can assure them of that from per-\\nsonal experience. I do not like speaking\\nabout myself, as may have been noticed, but in\\nthe cause of humanity, I, on this occasion, will\\ndo so, and will confess that at one time I was,\\nas the young man in the Bab Ballad says, the\\nshyest of the shy, and whenever I was intro-\\nduced to any pretty maid, my knees they\\nknocked together, just as if I was afraid.\\nNow, I would nay, have on this very day\\nbefore yesterday I did the deed. Alone and\\nentirely by myself (as the school-boy said in\\ntranslating the Ballum Gallicum), did I beard", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0109.jp2"}, "110": {"fulltext": "102 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\na railway refreshment-room }oung lady in her\\nown lair. 1 rebuked her, in terms of mingled\\nbitterness and sorrow, for her callousness and\\nwant of condescension. I insisted, courteously\\nbut firmly, on being accorded that deference\\nand attention that was the right of the travel-\\ning Briton; and, in the end, I looked her full\\nin the face. Need I say more?\\nTrue, that immediately after doing so, I left\\nthe room, with what may possibly have\\nappeared to be precipitation, and without wait-\\ning for any refreshment. But that was because\\nI had changed my mind, and not because I\\nwas frightened, you understand.\\nOne consolation that shy folk can take unto\\nthemselves is that shyness is certainly no sign\\nof stupidity. It is easy enough for bull-headed\\nclowns to sneer at nerves, but the highest\\nnatures are not necessarily those containing\\nthe greatest amount of moral brass. The\\nhorse is not an inferior animal to the cock-spar-\\nrow, nor the deer of the forest to the pig.\\nShjmess simply means extreme sensibility, and\\nhas nothing whatver to do with self-conscious-\\nness, or with conceit, though its relationship\\nto both is continually insisted upon by the poll-\\nparrot school of philosophy.\\nConceit, indeed, is the quickest cure for it.\\nWhen it once begins to draw upon you that you\\nare a good deal cleverer than any one else in\\nthis world, bashfulness becomes shocked, and\\nleaves you. When you can look around a\\nroomful of people, and think that each one is a\\nmere child in intellect compared with yourself,", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0110.jp2"}, "111": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 103\\nyou feel no more shy of them than you would\\nof a select company of magpies or orang-\\noutangs.\\nConceit is the finest armor that a man can\\nwear. Upon its smooth, impenetrable surface\\nthe puny dagger-thrusts of spite and envy\\nglance harmlessly aside. Without that breast-\\nplate, the sword of talent cannot force its way\\nthrough the battle of life, for blows have to be\\nborne as well as dealt. I do not, of course,\\nspeak of the conceit that displays itself in an\\nelevated nose and a falsetto voiae. That is not\\nreal conceit; that is only playing at being con-\\nceited, like children play at being kings and\\nqueens, and go strutting about with feathers\\nand long trains. Genuine conceit does not\\nmake a man objectionable. On the contrary,\\nit tends to make him genial, kind-hearted, and\\nsimple. He has no need of affectation he is far\\ntoo well satisfied with his own character; and\\nhis pride is too deep-seated to appear at all on\\nthe outside. Careless like of praise or blame,\\nhe can afford to be truthful. Too far, in fancy,\\nabove the rest of mankind to trouble about\\ntheir petty distinctions, hence equally at home\\nwith duke or costermonger, and, valuing no\\none s standard but his own, he is never\\ntempted to practice that miserable pretence\\nthat less self-reliant people offer up as an\\nhourly sacrifice to the god of their neighbor s\\nopinion.\\nThe shy man, on the other hand, is humble\\nmodest of his own judgment, and over-anx-\\nicus concerning that of others. But this, in", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0111.jp2"}, "112": {"fulltext": "104 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nthe case of a young man, is surely right\\nenough. His character is unformed. It is\\nslowly evolving itself out of a chaos of doubt\\nand disbelief. Before the growing insight\\nand experience the diffidence recedes. A man\\nrarely carries his shyness past the hobbledehoy\\nperiod. Even if his own inward strength does\\nnot throw it off, the rubbings of the world\\ngenerally smooth it down. You scarcely ever\\nmeet a really shy man except in novels or on\\nthe stage, where, by-the-by, he is much\\nadmired, especially by the women.\\nThere, in that supernatural land, he appears\\nas a fair-haired and saint-like young man fair\\nhair and goodness always go together on the\\nstage. No respectable audience would believe\\nin one without the other. I knew an actor\\nwho mislaid his wig once, and had to rush on\\nto play the hero in his own hair, which was jet\\nblack, and the gallery howled at all his noble\\nsentiments under the impression that he was\\nthe villain. He the shy young man loves\\nthe heroine, oh so devotedly (but only in\\nasides, for he dare not tell her of it), and he is\\nso noble and unselfish, and speaks in such a\\nlow voice, and is so good to his mother; and\\nthe bad people in the play, they laugh at him,\\nand jeer at him, but he takes it all so gently,\\nand, in the end, it transpires that he is such a\\nclever man, though nobody knew it, and then\\nthe heroine tells him she loves him, and he is\\nso surprised, and oh, so happy! and everybody\\nloves him, and asks him to forgive them,\\nwhich he does in a few well-chosen and sarcas-", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0112.jp2"}, "113": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 105\\ntic words, and blesses them; and he seems to\\nhave generally such a good time of it that all\\nthe young fellows who are not shy long to be\\nshy. But the really shy man knows better.\\nHe knows that it is not quite so pleasant in\\nreality. He is not quite so interesting there\\nas in fiction. He is a little more clumsy and\\nstupid, and a little less devoted and gentle,\\nand his hair is much darker, which, taken\\naltogether, considerably alters the aspect of the\\ncase.\\nThe point where he does resemble his ideal\\nis in his faithfulness. I am fully prepared to\\nallow the shy young man that virtue: he is\\nconstant in his love. But the reason is not far\\nto seek. The fact is, it exhausts all his stock of\\ncourage to look one woman in the face, and it\\nwould be simply impossible for him to go\\nthrough the ordeal with a second. He stands\\nin far too much dread of the whole female sex\\nto want to go gadding about with many of\\nthem. One is quite enough for him.\\nNow, it is different with the young man who\\nis not shy. He has temptations which his bash-\\nful brother never encounters. He looks\\naround, and everjrwhere sees roguish eyes and\\nlaughing lips. What more natural than that\\namidst so many roguish eyes and laughing lips\\nhe should become confused, and, forgetting for\\nthe moment which particular pair of roguish\\neyes and laughing lips it is that he belongs to,\\ngo off making love to the wrong set. The shy\\nman, who never looks at anything but his own", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0113.jp2"}, "114": {"fulltext": "106 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AX IDLE FELLOW.\\nboots, sees not, and is not tempted. Happy\\nshy man\\nNot but what the shy man himself would\\nmuch rather not be happy in that way. He\\nlonf^s to go it with the others, and curses\\nhimself every day for not being able to. He\\nwill, now and again, screwing up his courage\\nby a tremendous effort, plunge into roguish-\\nness. But it is always a terrible fiasco, and\\nafter one or two feeble flounders he crawls out\\nagain, limp and pitiable.\\nI say pitiable, though I am afraid he\\nnever is pitied. There are certain misfortunes\\nwhich, while inflicting a vast amount of suffer-\\ning upon their victims, gain for them no sym-\\npathy. Losing an umbrella, falling in love,\\ntoothache, black eyes, and having your hat sat\\nupon, may be m.entioned as a few examples,\\nbut the chief of them, all is shyness. The shy\\nman is regarded as an animate joke. His tor-\\ntures are the sport of the drawing-room arena,\\nand are pointed out and discussed with mucli\\ngusto.\\nLook, cry his tittering audience to each\\nother, he s blushing!\\nJust watch his legs, says one.\\nDo you notice how he is sitting? adds\\nanother; right on the edge of the chair.\\nSeems to have plenty of color, sneers a\\nmilitary-looking gentleman.\\nPity he s got so many hands, murmurs an\\nelderly lady, with her own calmly folded on\\nher lap. They quite confuse him.\\nA yard or two off his feet wouldn t be a", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0114.jp2"}, "115": {"fulltext": "IDLK THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 107\\ndisadvantaf^e, chimes in the comic man,\\nespecially as he seems so anxious to hide\\nthem.\\nAnd then another suggests that with such a\\nvoice he ought to have been a sea captain.\\nSome dravvT attention to the desperate way in\\nwhich he is grasping his hat. Some comment\\nupon his limited powers of conversation.\\nOthers remark upon the troublesome nature\\nof his cough. And so on, until his peculiarities\\nand the com^pan}^ are both thoroughly ex-\\nhausted.\\nHis friends and relations make matters still\\nmore unpleasant for the poor boy (friends and\\nrelations are privileged to be m.ore disagreeable\\nthan other people). Not content with making\\nfun of him amongst themselves, they insist on\\nhis seeing the joke. They mimic and carica-\\nture him for his own edification. One, pre-\\ntending to imitate him, goes outside, and\\ncomes in again in a ludicrously nervous man-\\nner, explaining to him afterward that that is\\nthe way he meaning the shy fellow walks\\ninto a room; or, turning to him with This is\\nthe way you shake hands, proceeds to go\\nthrough a comic pantomime with the rest of\\nthe room, taking hold of everr one s hand as if\\nit were a hot plate, and flabbily dropping it\\nagain. And then they ask him why he blushes,\\nand why he stammers, and why he always\\nspeaks in an almost inaudible tone, as if the}^\\nthought he did it on purpose. Then one of\\nthem, sticking out his chest, and strutting\\nabout the room like a pouter-pigeon, suggests", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0115.jp2"}, "116": {"fulltext": "108 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nquite seriously that that is the style he should\\nadopt. The old man slaps him on the back,\\nand says, Be bold, my boy. Don t be afraid of\\nany one. The mother says, Never do any-\\nthing that you need to be ashamed of, Alger-\\nnon, and then you never need be ashamed of\\nanything you do, and, beaming mildly at him,\\nseems surprised at the clearness of her own\\nlogic. The boys tell him that he s worse than\\na girl, and the girls repudiate the implied\\nslur upon their sex by indignantly exclaiming\\nthat they are sure no girl would be half so bad.\\nThey are quite right; no girl would be.\\nThere is no such thing as a shy woman, or, at\\nall events, I have never come across one, and,\\nimtil I do, I shall not believe in them. I know\\nthat the generally accepted belief is quite the\\nreverse. All women are supposed to be like\\ntimid, startled fawns, blushing and casting\\ndown their gentle eyes when looked at, and\\nrunning away when spoken to; while we men\\nare supposed to be a bold and roUicky lot, and\\nthe poor, dear little women admire us for it,\\nbut are terribly afraid of us. It is a pretty\\ntheory, but, like most generally accepted the-\\nories, mere nonsense. The girl of twelve is\\nself-contained, and as cool as the proverbial\\ncucumber, while her brother of twenty stam-\\nmers and stutters by her sidel A woman will\\nenter a concert-room late, interrupt the per-\\nformance, and disturb the whole audience\\nwithout moving a hair, while her husband fol-\\nlows her, a crushed heap of apologizing misery.\\nThe superior nerve of women in all mat-", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0116.jp2"}, "117": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 109\\nters connected with love, from the casting of\\nthe first sheep s eye down to the end of the\\nhoneymoon, is too well acknowledged to need\\ncomment. Nor is the example a fair one to\\ncite in the present instance, the positions not\\nbeing equally balanced. Love is woman s\\nbusiness, and in business we all lay aside\\nour natural weaknesses the shyest man I\\never knew was a photographic tout.", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0117.jp2"}, "118": {"fulltext": "110 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nOISl BABIES.\\nOh, yes, I do I know a lot about em. I\\nwas one myself once though not long, not so\\nlong as my clothes. They were very long, I\\nrecollect, and always in my way when I wanted\\nto kick. Why do babies have such yards of\\nunnecessary clothing? It is not a riddle. I\\nreally want to know. I never could under-\\nstand it. Is it that the parents are ashamed\\nof the size of the child, and wish to make\\nbelieve that it is longer than it actually is? I\\nasked a nurse once why it was. She said:\\nLor sir, they always have long clothes,\\nbless their little hearts.\\nAnd when I explained that her answer,\\nalthough doing credit to her feelings, hardly\\ndisposed of my difficulty, she replied:\\nLor sir, j^ou would wouldn t have em in\\nshort clothes, poor little dears? And she said\\nit in a tone that seemed to imply I had sug-\\ngested some unmanly outrage.\\nSince then, I have felt shy at making in-\\nquiries on the subject, and the reason if\\nreason there be is still a mystery to me.\\nBut, indeed, putting them in any clothes at\\nall seems absurd to my mind. Goodness knows,\\nthere is enough of dressing and undressing to\\nbe gone through in life, without beginning it", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0118.jp2"}, "119": {"fulltext": "I had a cat once that used to follow me. Page 89.\\nIdle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow.", "height": "2831", "width": "1654", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0119.jp2"}, "120": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0120.jp2"}, "121": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOV/.\\nbefore we need; and one would thini tl\\npeople who live in bed might, at all even\\nbe spared the torture. Why wake the p(\\nlittle wretches up in the morning to take one\\nlot of clothes off, fix another lot on, and put\\nthem to bed again; and then, at night, haul\\nthem out once more, merely to change every-\\nthing back? And when all is done, what differ-\\nence is there I should like to know, between a\\nbaby s night-shirt! and the thing it wears in\\nthe day-time?\\nVery likely, however, I am only making my-\\nself ridiculous I often do so I am informed\\nand I will, therefore, say no more upon this\\nmatter of clothes, except only that it would be\\nof great convenience if some fashion were\\nadopted, enabling you to tell a boy from a\\ngirl.\\nAt present it is most awkward. Neither\\nhair, dress, nor conversation affords the\\nslightest clue, and you are left to guess. By\\nsome mysterious law of Nature, you invariably\\nguess wrong, and are thereupon regarded by\\nall relatives and friends as a mixture of fool\\nand knave, the enormity of alluding to a\\nmale babe as she being only equaled by the\\natrocity of referring to a female infant as he.\\nWhichever sex the particular child in question\\nhappens not to belong to is considered as\\nbeneath contempt, and any mention of it is\\ntaken as a personal insult to the family.\\nAnd, as you value your fair name, do not at-\\ntempt to get out of the difficulty by talking of\\nit. There are various methods by which", "height": "2831", "width": "1654", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0121.jp2"}, "122": {"fulltext": "il2 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nyou may achieve ignominy and shame. By\\nmurdering a large and respectable family in\\ncold blood, and afterwards depositing their\\nbodies in the water company s reservoir, you\\nwill gain much unpopularity in the neighbor-\\nhood of your crime, and even robbing a church\\nwill get you cordially disliked, especially by\\nthe vicar. But if you desire to drain to the\\ndregs the fullest cup of scorn and hatred that\\na fellow human creature can pour out for you,\\nlet a voung mother hear you call dear baby\\nit.\\nYour best plan is to address the article as\\nlittle angel. The noun angel, being of\\ncommon gender, suits the case admirably, and\\nthe epithet is sure of being favorably\\nreceived. Pet or beauty are useful for\\nvariety s sake, but angel is the term that\\nbrings you the greatest credit for sense and\\ngood feeling. The word should be preceded\\nby a short giggle and accompanied by as much\\nsmile as possible. And, whatever you do,\\ndon t forget to say that the child has got its\\nfather s nose. This fetches the parents (if\\nI may be allowed a vulgarism) more than any-\\nthing. They will pretend to laugh at the idea\\nat first, and will say, Oh, nonsense! You\\nmust then get excited, and insist that it is a\\nfact. You need have no conscientious scruples\\non the subject, because the thing s nose really\\ndoes resemble its father s at all events quite\\nas much as it does anything else in nature\\nbeing, as it is, a mere smudge.\\nDo not despise these hints, my friends.", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0122.jp2"}, "123": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 113\\nThere may come a time when, with mamma\\non one side and grandmamma on the other, a\\ngroup of admiring young ladies (not admiring\\nyou though), behind and a bald-headed dab of\\nhumanity in front, you will be extremely thank-\\nful for some idea of what to say. A man an\\nunmarried man, that is is never seen to such\\ndisadvantage as when undergoing the ordeal of\\nseeing baby. A cold shudder runs down his\\nback at the bare proposal, and the sickly smile\\nwith which he says how delighted he shall be,\\nought surely to move even a mother s heart,\\nunless, as I am inclined to believe, the whole\\nproceeding is a mere device, adopted by wives\\nto discourage the visits of bachelor friends.\\nIt is a cruel trick, though, whatever its ex-\\ncuse may be. The bell is rung, and somebody\\nsent to tell nurse to bring baby down. This\\nis the signal for all the females present to com-\\nmence talking baby, during which time,\\nyou are left to your own sad thoughts, and to\\nspeculations upon the practicability of sud-\\ndenly recollecting an important engagement,\\nand the likelihood of your being believed if\\nyou do. Just when you have concocted an\\nabsurdly implausible tale about a man out-\\nside, the door opens, and a tall, severe looking\\nwoman enters, carrying what at first sight\\nappears to be a particularly skinny bolster,\\nwith the feathers all at one end. Instinct,\\nhowever, tells you that this is the baby, and\\nyou rise with a miserable attempt at appear-\\ning eager. When the first gush of feminine\\nenthusiasm with which the object in question\\n8 Idle Thoughts", "height": "2831", "width": "1654", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0123.jp2"}, "124": {"fulltext": "114 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nis received has died out, and the number of\\nladies talking- at once has been reduced to the\\nordinary four or five, the circle of fluttering\\npetticoats divides, and room is made for you to\\nstep forward. This you do with much the\\nsame air that you would walk into the dock at\\nBow Street, and then, feeling unutterably\\nmiserable, you stand solemnly staring at the\\nchild. There is dead silence, and you know\\nthat every one is waiting for you to speak.\\nYou try to think of something to say, but find\\nto your horror, that your reasoning faculties\\nhave left you. It is a moment of despair, and\\nyour evil genius, seizing the opportunity, sug-\\ngests to you some of the most idiotic remarks\\nthat it is possible for a human being to per-\\npetrate. Glancing round with an imbecile\\nsmile, you sniggeringly observe that it hasn t\\ngot much hair, has it? Nobody answers you\\nfor a minute, but at last the stately nurse says\\nwith much gravity It is not customary for\\nchildren five weeks old to have long hair.\\nAnother silence follows this, and you feel you\\nare being given a second chance, which you\\navail yourself of by inquiring if it can walk\\nyet, or what they feed it on.\\nBy this time you have got to be regarded as\\nnot quite right in your head, and pity is the\\nonly thing felt for you. The nurse, however,\\nis determined that, insane or not, there shall\\nbe no shirking, and that you shall go through\\nyour task to the end. In the tones of a high\\npriestess, directing some religious mystery,\\nshe says, holding the bundle towards you,", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0124.jp2"}, "125": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 115\\nTake her in your arms, sir. You are too\\ncrushed to offer any resistance, and so meekly\\naccept the burden. Put your arm more\\ndown her middle, sir, says the high priestess,\\nand then all step back and watch you intently\\nas though you were going to do a trick\\nwith it.\\nWhat to do you know no more than you did\\nwhat to say. It is certain something must be\\ndone, however, and the only thing that occurs\\nto you is to heave the unhappy infant up and\\ndown to the accompaniment of oopsee-daisy,\\nor some remark of equal intelligence. I\\nwouldn t jig her, sir, if I were you, says the\\nnurse; a very little upsets her. You\\npromptly decide not to jig her, and sincerely\\nhope that you have not gone too far already.\\nAt this point, the child itself, who has\\nhitherto been regarding you with an expres-\\nsion of mingled horror and disgust, puts an\\nend to the nonsense by beginning to yell at the\\ntop of its voice, at which the priestess rushes\\nforward and snatches it from j^ou with,\\nThere, there, there! What did ums do to\\nums? How very extraordinary! you say,\\npleasantly. Whatever made it go off like\\nthat? Oh, why you must have done some-\\nthing to her! says the mother, indignantly;\\nthe child wouldn t scream like that for noth-\\ning. It is evident they think 3^ou have been\\nrunning pins into it.\\nThe brat is calmed at last, and would no\\ndoubt remain quiet enough, only some mis-\\nchievous busybody points you out again with", "height": "2831", "width": "1654", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0125.jp2"}, "126": {"fulltext": "116 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nWho s this, baby? and the intellig-ent child,\\nrecognizing you, howls louder than ever.\\nWhereupon, some fat old lady remarks that\\nIt s strange how children take a dislike to\\nany one, Oh, they know, replies another,\\nmysteriously. It s a wonderful thing, adds\\na third and then somebody looks sideways at\\nyou, convinced your are a scoundrel of the\\nblackest dye and they glory in the beautiful\\nidea that your true character, unguessed by\\nyour fellow-men, has been discovered by the\\nuntaught instinct of a little child.\\nBabies, though, with all their crimes and\\n-errors, are not without their use not without\\nuse, surely, when they fill an empty heart; not\\nwithout use when, at their call, sunbeams of\\nlove break through care-clouded faces; not\\nwithout use when their little fingers press\\nwrinkles into smiles.\\nOdd little people! They are the uncon-\\nscious comedians of the world s great stage.\\nThey supply the humor in life s all too\\nheavy drama. Each one, a small but deter-\\nmined opposition to the order of things in gen-\\neral, is forever doing the wrong thing at the\\nwrong time, in the wrong place, and in the\\nwrong way. The nurse-girl, who sent Jenny\\nto see what Tommy and Totty were doing,\\nand tell *em they musn t, knew infantile\\nnature. Give an average baby a fair chance,\\nand if it doesn t do something it oughtn t to, a\\ndoctor should be called in at once.\\nThey have a genius for doing the most ridi-\\nculous things, and they do them in a grave,", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0126.jp2"}, "127": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 117\\nStoical manner that is irresistible. The bns-\\niness-like air with which two of them will join\\nhands and proceed due east at a break-neck\\ntoddle, while an excitable big sister is roaring\\nfor them to follow her in a westerly direction,\\nis most amusing except, perhaps, for the big\\nsister. They walk round a soldier, staring at\\nhis legs with the greatest curiosity, and poke\\nhim to see if he is real. They stoutly main-\\ntain, against all argument, and much to the\\ndiscomfort of the victim, that the bashful\\nyoung man at the end of the bus is dadda.\\nA crowded street corner suggests itself to\\ntheir minds as a favorable spot for the discus-\\nsion of family affairs at a shrill treble. When\\nin the middle of crossing the road, they are\\nseized with a sudden impulse to dance, and the\\ndoorstep of a busy shop is the place they\\nalways select for sitting down and taking off\\ntheir shoes.\\nWhen at home, the}^ find the biggest walk-\\ning-stick in the house or an umbrella open\\npreferred of much assistance in getting up-\\nstairs. They discover that they love Mary\\nAnn at the precise moment when that faith-\\nful domestic is blackleading the stove, and\\nnothing will relieve their feelings but to em-\\nbrace her then and there. With regard to\\nfood, their favorite dishes are coke and cat s\\nmeat. They nurse pussy upside down, and\\nthey show their affection for the dog by pull-\\ning his tail.\\nThey are a deal of trouble, and they make a\\nplace untidy, and they cost a lot of money to", "height": "2831", "width": "1654", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0127.jp2"}, "128": {"fulltext": "118 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nkeep but still you would not have the house\\nwithout them. It would not be home without\\ntheir noisy tongues and their mischief-making\\nhands. Would not the rooms seem silent with-\\nout their pattering feet, and might not you\\nstray apart if no prattling voices called you to-\\ngether?\\nIt should be so, and yet I have sometimes\\nthought the tiny hand seemed as a wedge,\\ndividing. It is a bearish task to quarrel with\\nthat purest of all human affections that per-\\nfecting touch to a woman s life a mother s\\nlove. It is a holy love, that we coarser-fibered\\nmen can hardly understand, and I would not\\nbe deemed to lack reverence for it Vv^hen I say\\nthat surely it need not swallow up all other\\naffection. The baby need not take your whole\\nheart, like the rich man who walled up the\\ndesert vv^ell. Is there not another thirsty trav-\\neler standing by?\\nDo not, in your desire to be a good mother,\\nforget to be a good wife. No need for all the\\nthought and care to be only for one. Do not,\\nwhenever poor Edwin wants you to come out,\\nanswer indignantly, What, and leave baby?\\nDo not spend all your evenings upstairs, and\\ndo not confine your conversation exclusively\\nto whooping-cough and measles. My dear lit-\\ntle woman, the child is not going to die every\\ntime it sneezes, the house is not bound to get\\nburned down, and the nurse run away with a\\nsoldier, every time you go outside the front\\ndoor; nor the cat sure to come and sit on the\\nprecious child s chest the moment you leave", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0128.jp2"}, "129": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 119\\nthe bedside. You worry yourself a good deal\\ntoo much about that solitary chick, and you\\nworry everybody else too. Try and think of\\nyour other duties, and your pretty face will not\\nbe always puckered into wrinkles, and there\\nwill be cheerfulness in the parlor as well as in\\nthe nursery. Think of your big baby a little.\\nDance him about a bit; call him pretty names;\\nlaugh at him now and then. It is only the\\nfirst baby that takes up the whole of a\\nv/oman s time. Five or six do not require\\nnearly so much attention as one. But before\\nthen the mischief has been done. A house\\nwhere there seems no room for him, and a\\nwife too busy to think of him, have lost their\\nhold on that so unreasonable husband of yours,\\nand he has learned to look elsewhere for\\ncomfort and companionship.\\nBut there, there, there I shall get myself\\nthe character of a baby hater, if I talk any\\nmore in this strain. And Heaven knows I am\\nnot one. Who could be, to look into the lit-\\ntle innocent faces clustered in timid helpless-\\nness round those great gates that open down\\ninto the world?\\nThe world the small round world what a\\nvast, mysterious place it must seem to baby\\neyes! What a trackless continent the back\\ngarden appears! What marvelous explora-\\ntions they make in the cellar under the stairs!\\nWith what awe they gaze down the long street\\nwondering, like us bigger babies, when we\\ngaze up at the stars, where it all ends!\\nAnd down that longest street of all, that", "height": "2831", "width": "1654", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0129.jp2"}, "130": {"fulltext": "120 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nlong, dim street of life that stretches out\\nbefore them what grave, old-fashioned looks\\nthey seem to cast! What pitiful, frightened\\nlooks sometimes! I saw a little mite sitting on\\na doorstep in a Soho slum one night, and I\\nshall never forget the look that the gas-lamp\\nshowed me on its wizen face a look of dull\\ndespair, as if, from the squalid court, the vista\\nof its own squalid life had risen, ghost-like,\\nand struck its heart dead with horror.\\nPoor little feet, just commencing the stony\\njourney! We, old travelers, far down the\\nroad, can only pause to wave a hand to you.\\nYou come out of the dark midst, and we, look-\\ning back, see you, so tiny in the distance,\\nstanding on the brow of the hill, your arms\\nstretched out toward us. God speed you We\\nwould stay and take your little hands in ours,\\nbut the murmur of the great sea is in our ears,\\nand we may not linger. We must hasten\\ndown, for the shadowy ships are waiting to\\nspread their sable sails.", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0130.jp2"}, "131": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 121\\nON EATING AND DRINKING.\\nI always was fond of eating and drinking,\\neven as a child especially eating in those\\nearly days. I had an appetite then, also a\\ndigestion. I remember a dull- eyed, livid-com-\\nplexioned gentleman coming to dine at our\\nhouse once. He watched me eating for about\\nfive minutes, quite fascinated, seemingly, and\\nthen he turned to my father with, Does your\\nboy ever suffer from dyspepsia?\\nI never heard him complain of anything of\\nthat kind, replied my father. Do you ever\\nsuffer from dyspepsia. Collywobbles? (They\\ncalled me Collywobbles, but it was not my real\\nname.)\\nNo, pa, I answered. After which, I\\nadded, What is dyspepsia, pa?\\nMy livid complexioned friend regarded me\\nwith a look of mingled amazement and envy.\\nThen in a tone of infinite pity he slowly said,\\nYou will know some day.\\nMy poor, dear mother used to say she liked\\nto see me eat, and it has alwa57S been a pleasant\\nreflection to me since, that I must have given\\nher much gratification in that direction. A\\ngrowing, healthy lad, taking plenty of exercise,\\nand careful to restrain himself from indulging\\nin too much study, can generally satisfy the", "height": "2831", "width": "1654", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0131.jp2"}, "132": {"fulltext": "122 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nmost exacting expectations as regards his feed-\\ning powers.\\nIt is amusing to see boys eat, when you have\\nnot got to pay for it. Their idea of a square\\nmeal is a pound and a half of roast beef with\\nfive or six good- sized potatoes (soapy ones\\npreferred, as being more substantial), plenty\\nof greens, and four thick slices of Yorkshire\\npudding, followed by a couple of currant dum-\\nplings, a few green apples, and a pen orth of\\nnuts, half-a-dozen jumbles, and a bottle of\\nginger beer. After that, they play at horses^\\nHow they must despise us men who require\\nto sit quiet for a couple of hours after dining\\noff a spoonful of clear soup and the wing of a\\nchi cken\\nBut the boys have not all the advantages on\\ntheir side. A boy never enjoys the luxury of\\nbeing satisfied. A boy never feels full. He\\ncan never stretch out his legs, put his hands\\nbehind his head, and, closing his eyes, sink\\ninto the ethereal blissfulness that encompasses\\nthe well-dined man. A dinner makes no\\ndifference whatever to a boy. To a man, it is\\nas a good fairy s portion, and, after it, the world\\nappears a brighter and a better place. A man\\nwho has dined satisfactoril}^ experiences a\\nyearning love toward all his fellow-creatures.\\nHe strokes the cat quite gently, and calls it\\npoor pussy, in tones full of the tenderest\\nemotion. He sympathizes with the members\\nof the German band outside, and wonders if\\nthey are cold; and, for the moment, he does\\nnot even hate his wife s relations.", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0132.jp2"}, "133": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 123\\nA g-ood dinner brings out all the softer side\\nof a man. Under its genial influence, the\\ngloomy and morose become jovial and chatty.\\nSour, starchy individuals, who all the rest of\\nthe day go about looking as if they lived on\\nvinegar and Epsom salts, break out into\\nwreathed smiles after dinner and exhibit a\\ntendency to pat small children on the head,\\nand to talk to them vaguely about sixpences.\\nSerious young men thaw, and become mildly\\ncheerful; and snobbish young men, of the\\nheavy mustache type, forget to make them-\\nselves objectionable.\\nI always feel sentimental myself after din-\\nner. It is the only time when I can properly\\nappreciate love stories. Then, when the hero\\nclasps her to his heart in one last wild em-\\nbrace, and stifles a sob, I feel as sad as tliough I\\nhad dealt at whist, and turned up only a deuce\\nand when the heroine dies in the end, I weep.\\nIf I read the sam.e tale early in the morning, I\\nshould sneer at it. Digestion, or rather indi-\\ngestion, has a marvelous effect upon the heart.\\nIf I want to v\\\\rrite anything very pathetic I\\nmean, if I want to try to write anything very\\npathetic, I eat a large plateful of hot buttered\\nmuffms about an hour beforehand, and, then,\\nby the time I sit down to my work, a feeling of\\nunutterable melancholy has come over me. I\\npicture heart-broken lovers parting forever at\\nlonely wayside stiles, while the sad twilight\\ndeepens around them, and only the tinkling of\\na distant sheep-bell breaks the sorrow-laden\\nsilence. Old men sit and gaze at withered", "height": "2831", "width": "1654", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0133.jp2"}, "134": {"fulltext": "124 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nflowers till their sight is dimmed by the mist of\\ntears. Little dainty maidens wait and watch at\\nopen casements; but he cometh not, and\\nthe heavy years roll by, and the snnny gold\\ntresses wear white and thin. The babies that\\nthey dandled have become grown men and\\nwomen with podgy torments of their own, and\\nthe playmates that they laughed with are lying\\nvery silent under the waving grass. But still\\nthey wait and watch, till the dark shadows of\\nthe unknown night steal up and gather round\\nthem, and the world with its childish troubles\\nfades from their aching eyes.\\nI see pale corpses tossed on white-foamed\\nwaves, and death-beds stained with bitter\\ntears, and graves in trackless deserts. I hear\\nthe wild wailing of women, the low moaning of\\nthe little children, the dry sobbing of strong\\nmen. It s all the muffins. I could not conjure\\nup one melancholy fancy upon a mutton chop\\nand a glass of champagne.\\nA full stomach is a great aid to poetry, and,\\nindeed, no sentiment of any kind can stand\\nupon an empty one. We have not time nor\\ninclination to indulge in fanciful troubles,\\nuntil we have got rid of our real misfortunes.\\nWe do not sigh over dead dicky-birds with the\\nbailiff in the house; and, when we do not\\nknow where on earth to get our next shilling\\nfrom, we do not worry whether our mistress s\\nsmiles are cold, or hot, or lukewarm, or any-\\nthing else about them.\\nFoolish people when I say foolish people\\nin this contemptuous way, I mean people who", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0134.jp2"}, "135": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 125\\nentertain different opinions to mine. If there\\nis one person I do despise more than another,\\nit is the man who does not think exactly the\\nsame on all topics as I do. Foolish people, I\\nsay, then, who have never experienced much of\\neither, will tell you that mental distress is far\\nmore agonizing than bodily. Romantic and\\ntouching theory! so comforting to the love-sick\\nyoung sprig who looks down patronizingly at\\nsome poor devil with a white starved face, and\\nthinks to himself, Ah, how happy you are\\ncompared with me! so soothing to fat old\\ngentlemen who cackle about the superiority of\\npoverty over riches. But it is all nonsense\\nall cant. An aching head soon makes one\\nforget an aching heart. A broken finger will\\ndrive away all recollections of an empty chair.\\nAnd when a man feels really hungry, he does\\nnot feel anything else.\\nWe sleek, well-fed folk can hardly realize\\nwhat feeling hungry is like. We know what it\\nis to have no appetite, and not to care for the\\ndainty victuals placed before us, but we do not\\nunderstand what it means to sicken for food\\nto die for bread while others waste it to gaze\\nwith famished eyes upon coarse fare steaming\\nbehind dingy windows, longing for a pen orth\\nof pease pudding, and not having the penny to\\nbuy it to feel that a crust would be delicious,\\nand that a bone would be a banquet.\\nHunger is a luxury to us, a piquant, flavor-\\ngiving sauce. It is well worth while to get\\nhungry and thirsty, merely to discover how\\nmuch gratification can be obtained from eating", "height": "2831", "width": "1654", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0135.jp2"}, "136": {"fulltext": "126 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nand drinking. If yon wish to thoroughly\\nenjoy your dinner, take a thirty-mile country\\nwalk after breakfast, and don t touch anything\\ntill you get back. How your eyes will glisten\\nat sight of the white table cloth and steaming\\ndishes then! With what a sigh of content you\\nwill put down the empty beer tankard, and\\ntake up your knife and fork! And how com-\\nfortable you feel afterwards, as you push back\\nyour chair, light a cigar, and beam round upon\\neverybody.\\nMake sure, how^ever, when adopting this\\nplan, that the good dinner is really to be had\\nat the end, or the disappointment is trying. I\\nremember once a friend and I dear old Joe, it\\nwas. Ah! how we lose one another in life s\\nmist. It must be eight years since I last saw\\nJoseph Taboys. How pleasant it would be to\\nmeet his jovial face again, to clasp his strong\\nhand, and to hear his cheery laugh once more!\\nHe owes me fourteen shillings, too. Well, we\\nwere on a holiday together, and one morning\\nwe had breakfast early, and started for a\\ntremendous long walk. We had ordered a\\nduck for dinner over night. We said, Get a\\nbig one, because we shall come home awfully\\nhungry; and, as we were going out, our\\nlandlady came up in great spirits. She said,\\nI have got you gentlemen a duck, if you like.\\nIf you get through that you ll do well; and\\nshe held up a bird about the size of a doormat.\\nWe chuckled at the sight, and said we would\\ntry. We said it with self-conscious pride, like", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0136.jp2"}, "137": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 127\\nmen who know their own power. Then we\\nstarted.\\nWe lost our way, of course. I always do in\\nthe country, and it does make me so wild,\\nbecause it is no use asking direction of any of\\nthe people you meet. One might as well\\ninquire of a lodging-house slavey the way to\\nmake beds, as expect a country bumpkin to\\nknow the road to the next village. You have\\nto shout the question about three times, before\\nthe sound of your voice penetrates his skull.\\nAt the third time, he slowly raises his head,\\nand stares blankly at you. You yell it at him\\nthen for the fourth time, and he repeats it\\nafter you. He ponders while you could count\\na couple of hundred, after which, speaking at\\nthe rate of three words a minute, he fancies\\nyou couldn t do better than Here he\\ncatches sight of another idiot coming down the\\nroad, and bawds out to him the particulars, re-\\nquesting his advice. The two then argue the\\ncase for a quarter of an hour or so, and finally\\nagree that you had better go straight down the\\nlane, round to the right, and cross by the third\\nstyle, and keep to the left by old Jimmy Mil-\\ncher s cow-shed and across the seven-acre field,\\nand through the gate by Squire Grubbin s hay-\\nstack keeping the bridle-])ath for a while, till\\nyou come opposite the hill where the wdndmill\\nused to be but it s gone now and round to\\nthe right, leaving Stiggin s plantation behind\\nyou; and you say Thank you, and go away\\nwith a splitting headache, but without the\\nfaintest notion of your way, the only clear idea", "height": "2831", "width": "1654", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0137.jp2"}, "138": {"fulltext": "128 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nyou have on the subject being that somewhere\\nor other there is a stile which has to be got\\nover; and at the next turn, you come upon\\nfour stiles, all leading in different directions!\\nWe had undergone this ordeal two or three\\ntimes. We had tramped over fields. We had\\nwaded through brooks, and scrambled over\\nhedges and walls. We had had a row as to\\nwhose fault it was that we had first lost our\\nway. We had got thoroughly disagreeable,\\nfootsore, and weary. But, throughout it all,\\nthe hope of that duck kept us up. A fairy-like\\nvision, it floated before our tired eyes, and drew\\nus onward. The thought of it was as a trumpet-\\ncall to the fainting. We talked of it, and\\ncheered each other with our recollections of it.\\nCome along, we said, the duck will be\\nspoilt,\\nWe felt a strong temptation at one point, to\\nturn into a village inn as we passed, and have\\na cheese and a few loaves between us; but we\\nheroically restrained ourselves: we should\\nenjoy the duck all the better for being\\nfamished.\\nWe fancied we smelt it when we got into the\\ntown and did the last quarter of a mile in three\\nminutes. We rushed upstairs, and washed\\nourselves, and changed our clothes, and came\\ndown, and pulled our chairs up to the table,\\nand sat and rubbed our hands while the land-\\nlady removed the covers, when I seized the\\nknife and fork and started to carve.\\nIt seemed to want a lot of carving. I strug-\\ngled with it for about five minutes without", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0138.jp2"}, "139": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 129\\nmaking the slightest impression, and then Joe,\\nwho had been eating potatoes, wanted to know\\nif it wouldn t be better for some one to do the\\njob that understood carving. I took no notice\\nof his foolish remark, but attacked the bird\\nagain; and so vigorously this time, that the\\nanimal left the dish, and took refuge in the\\nfender.\\nWe soon had it out of that though, and I\\nwas prepared to make another effort. But Joe\\nwas getting unpleasant. He said that if he\\nhad thought we were to have a game of blind\\nhookey with the dinner, he would have got a\\nbit of bread and cheese outside.\\nI was too exhausted to argue. I laid down\\nthe knife and fork with dignity, and took a side\\nseat; and Joe went for the wretched creature.\\nHe worked away, in silence for a while, and\\nthen he muttered, Damn the duck, and took\\nhis coat off.\\nWe did break the thing up at length, with\\nthe aid of a chisel but it was perfectly impos-\\nsible to eat it, and we had to make a dinner off\\nthe vegetables and an apple tart. We tried a\\nmouthful of the duck, but it was like eating\\nIndia-rubber.\\nIt was a wicked sin to kill that drake. But\\nthere! there s no respect for old institutions in\\nhis country.\\nI started this paper with the idea of writing\\nabout eating and drinking, but I seemed to\\nhave confined my remarks entirely to eating as\\nyet. Well, you see, drinking is one of those\\nsubjects with which it is unadvisable to appear\\n9 Idle Thoaghts", "height": "2831", "width": "1654", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0139.jp2"}, "140": {"fulltext": "130 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\ntoo well acquainted. The days are gone by\\nwhen it was considered manly to go to bed\\nintoxicated every night, and a clear head and a\\nfirm hand no longer draw down upon their\\nowner the reproach of effeminacy. On the con-\\ntrary, in these sadly degenerate days, an evil-\\nsmelling breath, a blotchy face, a reeling gait,\\nand a husky voice are regarded as the hall-\\nmarks of the cad rather than of the gentleman.\\nEven nowadays, though, the thirstiness of\\nmankind is something supernatural. We are\\nfor ever drinking on one excuse or another.\\nA man never feels comfortable unless he has a\\nglass before him. We drink before meals, and\\nwith meals, and after meals. We drink when\\nwe meet a friend, also when we part from a\\nfriend. We drink when we are talking, when\\nwe are reading, and when we are thinking.\\nWe drink one another s healths, and spoil our\\nown. We drink the Queen, and the Army,\\nand the Ladies, and everybody else that is\\ndrinkable; and I believe, if the supply ran\\nshort, we should drink our mothers-in-law.\\nBy the way, we never eat anybody s health,\\nalways drink it. Why should we not stand up\\nnow and then and eat a tart to somebody s\\nsuccess?\\nTo me, I confess, the constant necessity of\\ndrinking under which the majority of men\\nlabor is quite unaccountable. I can under-\\nstand people drinking to drown care, or to\\ndrive away maddening thoughts, well enough.\\nI can understand the ignorant masses loving to\\ns(5ak themselves in drinla^oh, yes, it s very", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0140.jp2"}, "141": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 131\\nshocking that they should, of course very-\\nshocking to us who live in cosy homes, with all\\nthe graces and pleasures of life around us,\\nthat the dwellers in damp cellars and windy\\nattics should creep from their dens of misery\\ninto the warmth and glare of the public-house\\nbar, and seek to float for a brief space away\\nfrom their dull world upon a Lethe stream of\\ngin.\\nBut think, before you hold up your hands,\\nin horror at their ill-living, what life for\\nthese wretched creatures really means. Picture\\nthe squalid misery of their brutish existence,\\ndragged on from year to year in the narrow,\\nnoisome room, where, huddled like vermin in\\nsewers, they welter, and sicken, and sleep;\\nwhere dirt-grimed children scream and fight,\\nand sluttish, shrill-voiced women cuff, and\\ncurse, and nag; where the street outside teems\\nwith roaring filth, and the house ground is a\\nbedlam of riot and stench.\\nThink what a sapless stick this fair flower of\\nlife must be to them, devoid of mind and soul.\\nThe horse in his stall scents the sweet hay,\\nand munches the ripe corn contentedly. The\\nwatch-dog in his kennel blinks at the grateful\\nsun, dreams of a glorious chase over the dewy\\nfields, and wakes with a yelp of gladness to\\ngreet a caressing hand. But the clod-like life\\nof these human logs never knows one ray of\\nlight. From the hour when they crawl from\\ntheir comfortless bed to the hour when they\\nlounge back into it again, they never live one\\nmoment of real life. Recreation, amusement,", "height": "2831", "width": "1654", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0141.jp2"}, "142": {"fulltext": "132 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\ncompanionship, they know not the meaning of.\\nJoy, sorrow, laughter, tears, love, friendship,\\nlonging, despair, are idle words to them.\\nFrom the day when their baby eyes first look\\nout upon their sordid world to the day when,\\nwith an oath, they close them forever, and\\ntheir bones are shoveled out of sight, they\\nnever warm to one touch of human sympathy,\\nnever thrill to a single thought, never start to\\na single hope. In the name of the God of mercy\\nlet them pour the maddening liquor down\\ntheir throats, and feel for one brief moment\\nthat they live!\\nAh we may talk sentiment as much as we\\nlike, but the stomach is the real seat of happi-\\nness in this world. The kitchen is the chief\\ntemple wherein we worship, its roaring fire is\\nour vestal f^ame, and the cook is our great high-\\npriest. He is a mighty magician and a kindly\\none. He soothes away all sorrow and care.\\nHe drives forth all enmity, gladdens all love.\\nOur God is great, and the cook is his prophet.\\nLet us eat, drink and be merry.", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0142.jp2"}, "143": {"fulltext": "Ere s a gentleman about fae rooms. Page 138.\\nIdle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow.", "height": "2831", "width": "1654", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0143.jp2"}, "144": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0144.jp2"}, "145": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 133\\nON FURNISHED APARTMENTS.\\nOh, you have some rooms to let.\\nMother!\\nWell, what is it?\\nEre s a genfeman about the rooms.\\nAsk im in. I ll be up in a minute.\\nWill yer step inside, sir? Mother 11 be up\\nin a minute.\\nSo you step inside, and, after a minute,\\nmother comes slowly up the kitchen stairs,\\nuntying her apron as she comes, and calling\\ndown instructions to some one below. about the\\npotatoes.\\nGood- morning, sir, says mother, with\\na washed-out smile; will you step this way,\\nplease?\\nOh, it s hardly worth while my coming up,\\nyou say; what sort of rooms are they, and\\nhow much?\\nWell, says the landlady, if you ll step\\nupstairs, I ll show them to you.\\nSo, wilh a protesting murmur, meant to im-\\nply that any waste of time complained of here-\\nafter must not be laid to your charge, you fol-\\nlow mother upstairs.\\nAt the first landing, you run up against a\\npail and a broom, whereupon mother ex-\\npatiates upon the unreliability of servant girls,", "height": "2831", "width": "1654", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0145.jp2"}, "146": {"fulltext": "134 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nand bawls over the balusters for Sarah to\\ncome and take them away at once. When you\\nget outside the rooms, she pauses, with her\\nhand upon the door, to explain to you that they\\nare rather untidy just at present, as the last\\nlodger left only yesterday; and she also adds\\nthat this is their cleaning day it always is.\\nWith this understanding, you enter, and both\\nstand solemnly feasting your eyes upon the\\nscene before you. The rooms cannot be said\\nto appear inviting. Even mother s face be-\\ntrays no admiration. Untenanted furnished\\napartments, viewed in the morning sunlight,\\ndo not inspire cheery sensations. There is a\\nlifeless air about them. It is a very different\\nthing when you have settled down and are liv-\\ning in them. With your old familiar household\\ngoods to greet your gaze whenever you glance\\nup, and all your little knick-knacks spread\\naround you with the photos of all the girls\\nthat you have loved and lost ranged upon the\\nmantelpiece, and half a dozen disreputable-\\nlooking pipes scattered about in painfully prom-\\ninent positions with one carpet slipper peep-\\ning from beneath the coal-box, and the other\\nperched on the top of the piano with the well-\\nknown pictures to hide the dingy walls, and\\nthese dear old friends, your books, higgledy-\\npiggledy all over the place with the bits of old\\nblue china that your mother prized, and the\\nscreen she worked in those far bygone days\\nwhen the sweet old face was laughing and\\nyoung, and the white soft hair tumbled in", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0146.jp2"}, "147": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 135\\ngold-brown curls from under the coat-scuttle\\nbonnet\\nAh, old screen, what a gorgeous personage\\nyou must have been in your young days, when\\nthe tulips and roses and lilies (all growing from\\none stem) were fresh in their glistening sheen\\nMany a summer and winter have come and\\ngone since then, my friend, and you have\\nplayed with the dancing firelight, until you\\nhave grown sad and gray. Your brilliant col-\\nors are fast fading now, and the envious moths\\nhave gnawed your silken threads. You are\\nwithering away like the dead hands that wove\\nyou. Do you ever think of those dead hands!\\nYou seem so grave and thouglitful, sometimes,\\nthat I almost think you do. Come, you and I\\nand the deep-glowing embers, let us talk to-\\ngether. Tell me, in your silent language, what\\nyou remember of those young days, when you\\nlay on my little mother s lap, and her girlish\\nfingers played with your rainbow tresses. Was\\nthere never a lad near, sometimes never a\\nlad who would seize one of those little hands\\nto smother it with kisses, and who would per-\\nsist in holding it, thereby sadly interfering\\nwith the progress of your making? Was not\\nyour frail existence often put in jeopardy by\\nthis same clumsy, headstrong lad, who would\\ntoss you disrespectfully aside that he not sat-\\nisfied with one might hold both hands, and\\ngaze up into the loved eyes? I can see that\\nlad now through the haze of the flickering tvv^i-\\nlight. He is an eager, bright-eyed boy, with\\npinching, dandy shoes and tight-fitting smalls,", "height": "2831", "width": "1654", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0147.jp2"}, "148": {"fulltext": "136 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nsnowy shirt frill and stock, and oh! such curly-\\nhair. A wild, light-hearted boy Can he be\\nthe great, grave gentleman upon whose stick\\nI used to ride cross-legged, the care-worn man\\ninto whose thoughtful face I used to gaze with\\nchildish reverence, and whom I used to call\\nfather? You say yes, old screen; but\\nare you quite sure? It is a serious charge you\\nare bringing; can it be possible? Did he have\\nto kneel down in those wonderful smalls, and\\npick you up, and rearrange you, before he was\\nforgiven, and his curly head smoothed by my\\nmother s little hand? Ah! old screen, and did\\nthe lads and the lassies go making love fifty\\nyears ago just as they do now? Are men and\\nwomen so unchanged? Did little maidens\\nhearts beat the same under pearl embroidered\\nbodices as they do under Mother Hubbard\\ncloaks? Have steel casques and chimney-pot\\nhats made no difference to the brains that\\nwork beneath them? Oh, Time! great Chro-\\nnos and is this your power? Have you dried\\nup seas and leveled mountains and left the tiny\\nhuman heart-strings to defy you? Ah, yes!\\nthey were spun by a Mightier than thou, and\\nthe}^ stretch beyond your narrow ken, for their\\nends are made fast in eternity. Ay, you may\\nmow down the leaves and the blossoms, but\\nthe roots of life lie too deep for your sickle to\\nsever. You re-fashion Nature s garments, but\\nyou cannot vary by a jot the throbbings of her\\npulse. The world rolls round obedient to your\\nlaws, but the heart of man is not of your king-", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0148.jp2"}, "149": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 137\\ndom, for in its birthplace a thousand years\\nare but as yesterday.\\nI am getting away, though, I fear, from my\\nfurnished apartments, and I hardly know\\nhow to get back. But I have some excuse for\\nmy meanderings this time. It is a piece of old\\nfurniture that has led me astray, and fancies\\ngather, somehow, round old furniture, like\\nmoss around old stones. One s chairs and\\ntables get to be almost part of one s life, and\\nto seem like quiet friends. What strange tales\\nthe wooden-headed old fellows could tell, did\\nthey but choose to speak At what unsuspected\\ncomedies and tragedies have they not assisted\\nWhat bitter tears have been sobbed into that\\nold sofa cushion! What passionate whisper-\\nings the settee must have overheard\\nNew furniture has no charms for me, com-\\npared with old. It is the old things that we\\nlove the old faces, the old books, the old\\njokes. New furniture can make a palace, but\\nit takes old furniture to make a home. Not\\nmerely old in itself, lodging-house furniture\\ngenerally is that, but it must be old to us, old\\nin associations and recollections. The furni-\\nture of furnished apartments, however ancient\\nit may be in reality, is new to our eyes, and\\nwe feel as though we could never get on with\\nit. As, too, in the case of all fresh acquaint-\\nances, whether wooden or human (and there is\\nvery little difference between the two species\\nsometimes) everything impresses you with its\\nworst aspect. The knobby wood-work and the\\nshiny horse-hair covering of the easy-chair sug-", "height": "2805", "width": "1664", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0149.jp2"}, "150": {"fulltext": "138 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\ngest anything but ease. The mirror is smoky.\\nThe curtains want washing. The carpet is\\nfrayed. The table looks as if it would go over\\nthe instant anything was rested on it. The\\ngrate is cheerless, the wall-paper hideous. The\\nceiling appears to have had coffee spilt all over\\nit, and the ornaments well, they are worse\\nthan the wall-paper.\\nThere must surely be some special and se-\\ncret manufactory for the production of lodg-\\ning-house ornarnxnts. Precisely the same arti-\\ncles are to be found at every lodging-house all\\nover the kingdom, and they are never seen\\nanywhere else. There are the two what do\\nyou call them? they stand one at each end of\\nthe mantelpiece, where they are never safe;\\nand they are hung round with long triangular\\nslips of glass that clank against one another\\nand make you nervous. In the commoner\\nclass of rooms these works of art are supple-\\nmented by a couple of pieces of china which\\nmight each be meant to represent a cov/ sitting\\nupon its hind legs, or a model of the temple of\\nDiana at Ephesus, or a dog, or anything else\\nyou like to fancy. Somewhere about the room\\nyou come across a bilious-looking object,\\nwhich, at first, you take to be a lump of dough,\\nleft about by one of the children, but which,\\non scrutiny, seems to resemble an underdone\\nCupid. This thing the landlady calls a statue.\\nThen there is a sampler worked by some\\nidiot related to the family, a picture of the\\nHuguenots, two or three Scripture texts,\\nand a highly- framed and glazed certificate to", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0150.jp2"}, "151": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 139\\nthe effect that the father has been vaccinated,\\nor is an Oddfellow, or something of that sort.\\nYou examine these various attractions, and\\nthen dismally ask what the rent is.\\nThat s rather a good deal, you say on\\nhearing the figure.\\nWell, to tell you the truth, answers the\\nlandlady with a sudden burst of candor, I ve\\nalways had (mentioning a sum of good deal\\nin excess of the first named amount), and be-\\nfore that I used to have (a still higher\\nfigure).\\nWhat the rent of apartments must have\\nbeen twenty years ago makes one shudder to\\nthink of. Every landlady makes you feel thor-\\noughl}^ ashamed of yourself by informing you,\\nwhenever the subject crops up, that she used\\nto get twice as much for her rooms as you are\\npaying. Young men lodgers of the last gener-\\nation must have been of a wealthier class than\\nthey are now, or they must have ruined them-\\nselves. I should have had to live in an attic.\\nCurious, that in lodgings, the rule of life is\\nreversed. The higher j^ou get up in the world,\\nthe lower you come down in your lodgings.\\nOn the lodging-house ladder, the poor man is\\nat the top, the rich man underneath. You\\nstart in the attic, and work your way down to\\nthe first floor.\\nA good many great men have lived in attics,\\nand some have died there. Attics, sa5^s the\\ndictionary, are places where lumber is\\nstored, and the world has used them to store\\na good deal of its lumber in at one time or an-", "height": "2805", "width": "1664", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0151.jp2"}, "152": {"fulltext": "140 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nOther. Its preachers and painters and poets,\\nits deep-browed men who will find out things,\\nits fire-eyed men who will tell truths that no\\none wants to hear these are the lumber that\\nthe world hides away in its attics. Haydn\\ngrew up in an attic, and Chatterton starved in\\none. Addison and Goldsmith wrote in garrets.\\nFaraday and De Quincy knew them well. Dr.\\nJohnson camped cheerfully in them, sleeping\\nsoundly too soundly sometimes upon their\\ntruckle beds, like the sturdy old soldier of for-\\ntune that he was, inured to hardship and all\\ncareless of himself. Dickens spent his youth\\namong them, Morland his old age alas! a\\ndrunken, premature old age. Hans Andersen,\\nthe fairy king, dreamt his sweet fancies be-\\nneath their sloping roofs. Poor, wayward-\\nhearted Collins leant his head upon their crazy\\ntables; priggish Benjamin Franklin; Savage,\\nthe wrong-headed, much troubled, when he\\ncould afford any softer bed than a doorstep;\\nyoung Bloomfield, Bobby Burns, Hogarth,\\nWatts, the engineer the roll is endless. Ever\\nsince the habitations of men were reared two\\nstories high, has the garret been the nursery\\nof genius.\\nNo one who honors the aristocracy of mind\\ncan feel ashamed of acquaintanceship with\\nthem. Their damp-stained walls are sacred to\\nthe memory of noble names. If all the wis-\\ndom of the world and all its arts all the spoils\\nthat it has won from Nature, all the fire that it\\nhas snatched from Heaven were gathered to-\\ngether and divided into heaps, and we could", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0152.jp2"}, "153": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 141\\npoint and say, for instance: These mighty\\ntruths were flashed forth in the brilliant salon,\\namidst the ripple of light laughter and\\nthe sparkle of bright eyes; and this deep\\nknowledge was dug up in the quiet study,\\nwhere the bust of Pallas looks serenely down\\non the leather-scented shelves; and This heap\\nbelongs to the crowded street; and That to the\\ndaisied field the heap that would tower up\\nhigh above the rest, as a mountain above hills,\\nwould be the one at which we should look up\\nand say: this noblest pile of all these glorious\\npaintings and this wondrous music, these\\ntrumpet words, these solemn thoughts, these\\ndaring deeds, they were forged and fashioned\\namidst misery and pain in the sordid squalor\\nof the city garret. There, from their eyries,\\nwhile the world heaved and throbbed below,\\nthe kings of men sent forth their eagle thoughts\\nto wing their flight through the ages. There,\\nwhere the sunlight streaming through the\\nbroken panes, fell on rotting board and crumb-\\nling walls there, from their lofty thrones, those\\nrag-clothed Joves have hurled their thunder-\\nbolts and shaken, before now, the earth to its\\nfoundations.\\nHuddle them up in your lumber-rooms, O\\nworld! Shut them fast in, and turn the key\\nof poverty upon them. Weld close the bars,\\nand let them fret their hero lives away within\\nthe narrow cage. Leave them there to starve,\\nand rot, and die. Laugh at the frenzied beat-\\nings of their hands against the door. Roll\\nonward in your dust and noise, and pass them\\nby, forgotten.", "height": "2805", "width": "1664", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0153.jp2"}, "154": {"fulltext": "142 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nBut take care, lest they turn and sting youL\\nAll do not, like the fabled Phoenix, warble\\nsweet melodies in their agony sometimes they\\nspit venom venom you must breathe whether\\nyou will or no, for you cannot seal their\\nmouths, though you may fetter their limbs.\\nYou can lock the door upon them, but they\\nburst open their shaky lattices, and call out-\\nover the house tops so that men cannot but hear.\\nYou hounded wild Rousseau into the mean-\\nest garret of the Rue St. Jacques, and jeered\\nat his angry shrieks. But the thin, piping\\ntones swelled, a hundred years later, into the\\nsullen roar of the French Revolution, and civ-\\nilization to this day is quivering to the rever-\\nberations of his voice.\\nAs for myself, however, I like an attic. Not\\nto live in as residences they are inconve-\\nnient. There is too much getting up and down\\nstairs connected with them to please me. It\\nputs one unpleasantly in mind of the tread-\\nmill. The form of the ceiling offers too many\\nfacilities for bumping your head, and too few\\nfor shaving. And the note of the tom-cat, as\\nhe sings to his love in the stilly night, outside\\non the tiles, becomes positively distasteful\\nwhen heard so near.\\nNo, for living in, give me a suite of rooms\\non the first floor of a Piccadilly mansion (I\\nwish somebody would!); but, for thinking in^\\nlet me have an attic up ten flights of stairs in\\nthe densest quarter of the city. I have all\\nHerr Teufelsdrockh s affection for attics.\\nThere is a sublimity about their loftiness. 1", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0154.jp2"}, "155": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 143\\nlove to sit at ease and look down upon the\\nwasps nest beneath; to listen to the dull\\nmurmur of the human tide, ebbing and flow-\\ning ceaselessly through the narrow streets and\\nlanes below. How small men seem, how like\\na swarm of ants sweltering in endless confu-\\nsion on their tiny hill! How petty seems the\\nwork on which they are hurrying and skurry-\\ning How childishly they jostle against one\\nanother, and turn to snarl and scratch! They\\njabber and screech and curse, but their puny\\nvoices do not reach up here. They fret, and\\nfume, and rage, and pant, and die; *but I,\\nmein Werther, sit above it all I am alone with\\nthe stars.\\nThe most extraordinary attic I ever came\\nacross was one a friend and I once shared,\\nmany years ago. Of all eccentrically planned\\nthings, from Bradshaw to the maze at Hamp-\\nton court, that room was the eccentricalest.\\nThe architect who designed it must have been\\na genius, though I cannot help thinking that\\nhis talents would have been better employed\\nin contriving puzzles than in shaping human\\nhabitations. No figure in Euclid could give\\nany idea of that apartment. It contained\\nseven corners, two of the walls sloped to a\\npoint, and the window was just over the fire-\\nplace. The only possible position for the bed-\\nstead was between the door and the cupboard.\\nTo get anything out of the cupboard, we had\\nto scramble over the bed, and a large percent-\\nage of the various commodities thus obtained\\nwere absorbed by the bedclothes. Indeed, so", "height": "2805", "width": "1664", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0155.jp2"}, "156": {"fulltext": "144 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nmany things were spilled and dropped upon\\nthe bed, that, toward night-time, it had be-\\ncome a sort of small co-operative store. Coal\\nwas what it always had most in stock. We\\nused to keep our coal in the bottom part of the\\ncupboard, and, when any was wanted, we had\\nto climb over the bed, fill a shovelful, and\\nthen crawl back. ,It was an exciting moment\\nwhen we reached the middle of the bed. We\\nwould hold our breath, fix our eyes upon the\\nshovel, and poise ourselves for the last move.\\nThe next instant, we, and the coals, and the\\nshovel, and the bed would be all mixed up\\ntogether.\\nI ve heard of the people going into raptures\\nover beds of coal. We slept in one every\\nnight, and were not in the least stuck up\\nabout it.\\nBut our attic, unique though it was, had by\\nno means exhausted the architect s sense of\\nhumor. The arrangement of the whole house\\nwas a model of originality. All the doors\\nopened outward, so that, if any one wanted to\\nleave a room at the same moment that you\\nwere coming downstairs, it was unpleasant for\\nyou. There was no ground-floor, its ground-\\nfloor belonged to a house in the next court,\\nand the front door opened direct upon a flight\\nof stairs leading down to the cellar. Visitors,\\non entering the house, would suddenly shoot\\npast the person who had answered the door\\nto them, and disappear down these stairs.\\nThose of a nervous temperament used to imag-\\nine that it was a trap laid for them, and would", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0156.jp2"}, "157": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 145\\nshout murder, as they lay on their backs at the\\nbottom, till somebody came and picked them\\nup.\\nIt is a long time ago, now, that I last saw\\nthe inside of an attic. I have tried various\\nfloors since, but I have not found that they\\nhave made much difference to me. Life tastes\\nmuch the same, whether we quaff it from a\\ngolden goblet or drink it out of a stone mug.\\nThe hours come laden with the same mixture\\nof joy and sorrow, no matter where we wait\\nfor them. A waistcoat of broadcloth or of fus-\\ntian is alike to an aching heart, and we laugh\\nno merrier on velvet cushions than we did on\\nwooden chairs. Often have I sighed in those\\nlow-ceilinged rooms, yet disappointments have\\ncome neither less nor lighter since I quitted\\nthem. Life works upon a compensating bal-\\nance, and the happiness we gain in one direc-\\ntion we lose in another. As our means in-\\ncrease, so do our desires; and we ever stand\\nmidway between the two. When we reside in\\nan attic we enjoy a supper of fried fish and\\nstout. When we occupy the first floor, it takes\\nan elaborate dinner at the Continental to\\ngive us the same amount of satisfaction.\\n10 Idle Thoughts", "height": "2805", "width": "1664", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0157.jp2"}, "158": {"fulltext": "146 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nOF DRESS AND DEPORTMENT.\\nThey say people who ought to be ashamed\\nof themselves do that the consciousDess of\\nbeing well dressed imparts a blissfulness to\\nthe human heart that religion is powerless to\\nbestow. I am afraid these cynical persons are\\nsometimes correct. I know that when I was a\\nvery young man (many, many years ago, as the\\nstory-books say), and wanted cheering up, I\\nused to go and dress myself in all my best\\nclothes. If I had been annoyed in any man-\\nner if my washerwoman had discharged me,\\nfor instance; or my blank verse poem had\\nbeen returned for the tenth time, with the\\neditor s compliments, and regrets that owing:\\nto want of space he is unable to avail himself\\nof kind offer, or I have been snubbed by\\nthe woman I loved as man never loved before.\\nBy the way, it s really extraordinary\\nwhat a variety of ways of loving there must\\nbe. We all do it as it was never done before.\\nI don t know how our great-grandchildren will\\nmanage. They will have to do it on their\\nheads by their time, if they persist in not clash-\\ning with any previous method.\\nWell, as I was saying, when these unpleas-\\nant sort of things happened, and I felt crushed,\\nI put on all my best clothes, and v^^ent out. It", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0158.jp2"}, "159": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 147\\nbrought back my vanishing self-esteem. In a\\nglossy new hat, and a pair of trousers with a\\nfold down the front (carefully preserved by\\nkeeping them under the bed I don t mean\\non the floor, you know, but between the bed\\nand the mattress), I felt I was somebody, and\\nthat there were other washerwomen aye, and\\neven other girls to love, and who would, per-\\nhaps, appreciate a clever, good-looking young\\nfellow. I didn t care; that was my reckless\\nway. I would make love to other maidens, I\\nfelt that in those clothes I could do it.\\nThey have a wonderful deal to do with\\ncourting, clothes have. It is half the battle.\\nAt all events, the young man thinks so, and it\\ngenerally takes him a couple of hours to get\\nhimself \\\\iv for the occasion. His first half-\\nhour is occupied in trying to decide whether to\\nwear his light suit with a cane and drab billy-\\ncock, or his black tails with a chimney-pot hat\\nand his new umbrella. He is sure to be unfor-\\ntunate in either decision. If he wears his light\\nsuit and takes the stick, it comes on to rain,\\nand he reaches the house in a damp and\\nmuddy condition, and spends the evening try-\\ning to hide his boots. If, on the other hand,\\nhe decides in favor of the top hat and umbrella\\nnobody would ever dream of going out in a\\ntop hat without an umbrella; it would be like\\nletting Baby (bless it) toddle out without its\\nnurse. How I do hate a top hat! One lasts\\nme a very long while, I can tell you. I only\\nwear it when well, never mind when I wear\\nit. It lasts me a very long while. I ve had", "height": "2805", "width": "1664", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0159.jp2"}, "160": {"fulltext": "148 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nmy present one five years. It was rather old-\\nfashioned last summer, but the shape has come\\nround again now, and I look quite stylish.\\nBut to return to our young man and his\\ncourting. If he starts off with the top hat and\\numbrella, the afternoon turns out fearfully\\nhot, and the perspiration takes all the soap out\\nof his mustache, and converts the beauti-\\nfully arranged curl over his forehead into a\\nlimp wisp, resembling a lump of sea-weed.\\nThe Fates are never favorable to the poor\\nwretch. If he does by any chance reach the\\ndoor in proper condition, she has gone out with\\nher cousin, and won t be back till late.\\nHow a young lover, made ridiculous by the\\ngawkiness of modern costume, must envy the\\npicturesque gallants of seventy years ago!\\nLook at them (on the Christmas cards), with\\ntheir curly hair and natty hats, their well\\nshaped legs encased in smalls, their dainty\\nHessian boots, their ruffling frills, their canes,\\nand dangling seals. No wonder the little\\nmaiden in the big poke bonnet and the light\\nblue sash, casts down her eyes, and is com-\\npletely won. Men could win hearts in clothes\\nlike that. But what can you expect from\\nbaggy trousers and a monkey jacket?\\nClothes have more effect upon us than we\\nimagine. Our deportment depends upon our\\ndress. Make a man get into seedy, worn-out\\nrags, and he will skulk along v/ith his head\\nhanging down, like a man going out to fetch\\nhis own supper-beer. But deck out the same\\narticle in gorgeous raiment and fine linen, and", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0160.jp2"}, "161": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 149\\nhe will strut down the main thoroughfare,\\nswinging his cane, and looking at the girls, as\\nperky as a bantam cock.\\nClothes alter our very-nature. A man could\\nnot help being fierce and daring with a plume\\nin his bonnet, a dagger in his belt, and a lot\\nof puffy white things all down his sleeves.\\nBut, in an ulster, he wants to get behind a\\nlamp-post and call police.\\nI am quite ready to admit that you can find\\nsterling merit, honest worth, deep affection,\\nand all such like virtues of the roast-beef and\\nplum-pudding school, as much, and perhaps\\nmore, under broadcloth and tweed as ever\\nexisted beneath silk and velvet; but the spirit\\nof that knightly chivalry, that rode a tilt for\\nlady s love, and fought for lady s smiles,\\nneeds the clatter of steel and the rustle of\\nplumes to summon it from its grave between-\\nthe dusty folds of tapestry and underneath the\\nmusty leaves of moldering chronicles.\\nThe world must be getting old, I think; it\\ndresses so very soberly now. We have been\\nthrough the infant period of humanity, when\\nwe used to run about with nothing on but a\\nlong, loose robe, and liked to have our feet\\nbare. And then came the rough, barbaric\\nage, the boyhood of our race. We didn t care\\nwhat we wore then, but thought it nice to tattoo\\nourselves all over, and we never did our hair.\\nAnd, after that, the world grew into a young\\nman, and became foppish. It decked itself\\nin flowing curls and scarlet doublets, and went", "height": "2805", "width": "1664", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0161.jp2"}, "162": {"fulltext": "150 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\ncourting, and bragging, and bouncing mak-\\ning a brave show.\\nBut all those merry, foolish days of youth\\nare gone, and we are very sober, very solemn,\\nand very stupid, some say now. The world\\nis a grave, middle-aged gentleman in this\\nnineteenth century, and would be shocked to\\nsee itself with a bit of finery on. So it dresses\\nin black coats and trousers, and black hats,\\nand black boots, and, dear me, it is such a\\nvery respectable gentleman to think it could\\never have gone gadding about as a troubadour\\nor a knight-errant, dressed in all those fancy\\ncolors Ah, well we are more sensible in this\\nage.\\nOr, at least, we think ourselves so. It is a\\ngeneral theory nowadays that sense and dulness\\ngo together.\\nGoodness is another quality that always goes\\nvv^ith blackness. Very good people indeed,\\nyou will notice, dress altogether in black, even\\nto gloves and neckties, and they will probably\\ntake to black shirts before long. Medium\\ngoods indulge in light trousers on week-days\\nand some of them even go so far as to wear\\nfancy waistcoats. On the other hand, people\\nwho care nothing for a future state go about\\nin light suits; and there have been known\\nwretches so abandoned as to wear a white hat.\\nSuch people, however, are never spoken of in\\ngenteel society, and perhaps I ought not to\\nhave referred to them here.\\nBy the way, talking of light suits, have you\\never noticed how people stare at you the first", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0162.jp2"}, "163": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 151\\ntime you go out in a new light suit? They do\\nnot notice it so much afterwards. The popu-\\nlation of London have got accustomed to it by\\nthe third time you wear it. I say you,\\nbecause I am not speaking from my own ex-\\nperience. I do not wear such things at all\\nmyself. As I said, only sinful people do so.\\nI wish, though, it were not so, and that one\\nCould be good, and respectable, and sensible\\nwithout making one s self a guy. I look in\\nthe glass sometimes at my two long, cylindri-\\ncal bags (so picturesquely rugged about the\\nknees), my stand-vip collar, and billycock hat,\\nand wonder what right I have to go about\\nmaking God s world hideous. Then wild and\\nwicked thoughts come into my heart. I don t\\nwant to be good and respectable. (I never\\ncan be sensible, I m told, so that don t matter.)\\nI want to put on lavender-colored tights, with\\nred velvet breeches and a green doublet,\\nslashed with yellow; to have a light blue silk\\ncloak on my shoulder, and a black eagle s\\nplume waving from my hat, and a big sword,\\nand a falcon, and a lance, and a prancing\\nhorse, so that I might go about and gladden\\nthe eyes of the people. Why should we all\\ntry to look like ants, crawling over a dust-heap?\\nWhy shouldn t we dress a little gayly? I am\\nsure, if we did, we should be happier. True,\\nit is a little thing, but we are a little race,\\nand what is the use of our pretending other-\\nwise, and spoiling fun? Let philosophers get\\nthemselves up like old crows if they like. But\\nlet me be a butterfly.", "height": "2805", "width": "1664", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0163.jp2"}, "164": {"fulltext": "152 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nWomen, at all events, ought to dress prettily.\\nIt is their duty. They are the flowers of the\\nearth, and were meant to show it up. We\\nabuse them a good deal, we men but, good-\\nness knows, the old world would be dull enough\\nwithout their dresses and fair faces. How\\nthey brighten up every place they come into!\\nWhat a sunny commotion they relations,\\nof course make in our dingy bachelor cham-\\nbers! and what a delightful litter their rib-\\nbons and laces, and gloves and hats, and\\nparasols and kerchiefs make! It is as if a\\nwandering rainbow had dropped on to pay us\\na visit.\\nIt is one of the chief charms of the summer,\\nto my mind, the way our little maids come out\\nin pretty colors. I like to see the pink and\\nblue and white, glancing between the trees,\\ndotting the green fields, and flashing back the\\nsunlight. You can see the bright colors such\\na long way off. There are four white dresses\\nclimbing a hill in front of my window now. I\\ncan see them distinctly, though it is three\\nmiles away. I thought, at first, they were\\nmilestones out for a lark. It s so nice to be\\nable to see the darlings a long way off. Es-\\npecially if they happen to be your wife and\\nyour mother-in-law.\\nTalking of fields and milestones, reminds me\\nthat I want to say,, in all seriousness, a few\\nwords about women s boots. The women of\\nthese islands all wear boots too big for them.\\nThey can never get a boot to fit. The boot-\\nmakers do not keep sizes small enough.", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0164.jp2"}, "165": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOV/. 153\\nOver and over again have I known women\\nsit down on the top rail of a stile, and declare\\nthey could not go a step farther, because their\\nboots hurt them so; and it has aUvays been\\nthe same complaint too big.\\nIt is time this state of things was altered.\\nIn the name of the husbands and fathers of\\nEngland, I call upon the bootmakers to reform.\\nOur wives, our daughters, and our cousins are\\nnot to be lamed and tortured with impunity.\\nWhy cannot narrow twos be kept more in\\nstock? that is the size I find most women take.\\nThe waistband is another item of feminine\\napparel that is always too big. The dress-\\nmakers make these things so loose that the\\nhooks and eyes by which they are fastened\\nburst off, every now and then, with a report\\nlike thunder.\\nWhy women suffer these wrongs why they\\ndo not insist in having their clothes made\\nsmall enough for them, I cannot conceive. It\\ncan hardly be that they are disinclined to\\ntrouble themselves about matters of mere\\ndress, for dress is the one subject that they\\nreally do think about. It is the only topic they\\never get thoroughly interested in, and they\\ntalk about it all day long. If you see two\\nwomen together, 5^ou may bet your bottom\\ndollar they are discussing their own or their\\nfriend s clothes. You notice a couple of child-\\nlike beings, conversing by a window, and you\\nwonder what sweet, helpful words are falling\\nfrom their sainted lips. So you move nearer,\\nand then you hear one say", "height": "2805", "width": "1664", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0165.jp2"}, "166": {"fulltext": "154 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nSo I took in the waistband, and let out a\\nseam, and it fits beautifully novv\\\\\\nWell, says the other, I shall v/ear my\\nplum-colored body to the Jones with a yel-\\nlow plastron; and they ve got some lovel}^\\ngloves at Puttick s, only one and elevenpence.\\nI v/ent for a drive through a part of Derby-\\nshire once, with a couple of ladies. It was a\\nbeautiful bit of country, and they enjoyed\\nthemselves immensely. They talked dressmak-\\ning the whole time.\\nPretty view, that, I would say, waving my\\numbrella round. Look at those blue, distant\\nhills! That little v/hi;e speck, nestling in the\\nwoods, is Chatsworth, and over there\\nYes, very pretty indeed, one would reply.\\nV\\\\^ell, why not get a yard of sarsenet?\\nWhat, and leave the skirt exactly as it is?\\nCertainly. What place d ye call this?\\nThen I would draw their attention to the\\nfresh beauties that kept sweeping into view,\\nand they would glance round, and say charm-\\ning, sv\\\\ eetly pretty, and imm^ediately go off\\ninto raptures over each other s pocket-hand-\\nkerchiefs, and mourn with one another over\\nthe decadence of cambric frilling.\\nI believe if two women were cast together\\nupon a desert island, they would spend each\\nday arguing the respective merits of sea-shells\\nand bird s eggs, considered as trimmings, and\\nwould have a new fashion in fig-leaves every\\nmonth.\\nVery young men think a good deal about\\nclothes, but they don t talk about them to each", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0166.jp2"}, "167": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 155\\nOther. They would not find much encourag^e-\\nment. A fop is not a favorite with his own\\nsex. Indeed, he gets a good deal more abuse\\nfrom them than is necessary. His is a harm-\\nless failing, and it soon wears out. Besides,\\na man who has no foppery at twenty will be a\\nslatternly, dirty-collar, unbrushed-coat man at\\nforty. A little foppishness in a young man is\\ngood; it is human. I like to see a young cock\\nruffle his feathers, stretch his neck, and crow\\nas if the whole world belonged to him. I\\ndon t like a modest, retiring man. Nobody\\ndoes not really, however much they may prate\\nabout modest worth, and other things they do\\nnot understand.\\nA meek deportment is a great mistake in the\\nworld. Uriah Heep s father was a very poor\\njudge of human nature, or he would not have\\ntold his son, as he did, that people liked hum-\\nbleness. There is nothing annoys them more,\\nas a rule. Rows are half the fun of life, and\\nyou can t have rows with humble, meek-\\nanswering individuals. They turn away our\\nwrath, and that is just what we do not want.\\nWe want to let it out. We have worked our-\\nselves up into a state of exhilarating fury, and\\nthen just as we are anticipating the enjoyment\\nof a vigorous set-to, they spoil all our plans\\nwith their exasperating humility.\\nXantippe s life must have been one long\\nmisery, tied to that calmly irritating man,\\nSocrates. Fancy a married woman doomed to\\nlive on from day to day without one single\\nquarrel with her husband! A man ought to", "height": "2805", "width": "1664", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0167.jp2"}, "168": {"fulltext": "156 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nhumor his wife in these things. Heaven\\nknows their lives are dull enough, poor girls.\\nThey have none of the enjoyments we have.\\nThey go to no political meetings;- they may\\nnot even belong to the local amateur parlia-\\nment; they are excluded from smoking car-\\nriages on the Metropolitan railway, and they\\nnever see a comic paper or if they do, they\\ndo not know it is comic: nobody tells them.\\nSurely, with existence such a dreary blank\\nfor them as this, we might provide a little\\nrow for their amusement now and then, even\\nif we do not feel inclined for it ourselves. A\\nreally sensible man does so, and is loved\\naccordingly, for it is little acts of kindness such\\nas this that go straight to a woman s heart.\\nIt is such like proofs of loving self-sacrifice\\nthat make her tell her female friends what a\\ngood husband he was after he is dead.\\nYes, poor Xantippe must have had a hard\\ntime of it. The bucket episode was particu-\\nlarly sad for her. Poor woman she did think\\nshe would rouse him up a bit with that. She\\nhad taken the trouble to fill the bucket, per-\\nhaps been a long way to get specially dirty\\nwater. And she waited for him. And then\\nto be met in such a way, after all! Most\\nlikely she sat down, and had a good cry after-\\nwards. It must have seemed all so hopeless\\nto the poor child and, for all we know, she\\nhad no mother to whom she could go and\\nabuse him.\\nWhat was it to her that her husband was a", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0168.jp2"}, "169": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 157\\ngreat philosopher? Great philosophy don t\\ncount in married life.\\nThere was a very good little boy once who\\nwanted to go to sea. And the captain asked him\\nwhat he could do. He said he could do the mul-\\ntiplication table backwards, and paste sea- weed\\nin a book; that he knew how many times the\\nword begat occurred in the Old Testament;\\nand could recite The Boy stood on the Burn-\\ning Deck, and Wordsworth s We are Seven.\\nWerry good werry good, indeed, said the\\nman of the sea, and ken yer kerry coals?\\nIt is just the same when you want to marry.\\nGreat ability is not required so much as little\\nusefulness. Brains are at a discount in the\\nmarried state. There is no demand for them,\\nno appreciation even. Our wives sum us up\\naccording to a standard of their own, in which\\nbrilliancy of intellect obtains no marks. Your\\nlady and mistress is not at all impressed by\\nour cleverness and talent, my dear reader\\nnot in the slightest. Give her a man who can\\ndo an errand neatly, without attempting to use\\nhis own judgment over it, or any damned non-\\nsense of that kind and who can be trusted to\\nhold a child the right way up, and not make\\nhimself objectionable whenever there is luke-\\nw^arm mutton for dinner. That is the sort of a\\nhusband a sensible woman likes; not one of\\nyour scientific or literary nuisances, who go\\nupsetting the whole house, and putting every-\\nbody out with their foolishness.", "height": "2805", "width": "1664", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0169.jp2"}, "170": {"fulltext": "158 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nON MEMORY.\\nI remember, I remember.\\nIn the days of chill November,\\nHow the blackbird on the\\nI forget the rest. It is the beginning of the\\nfirst piece of poetry I ever learnt; for\\nHey, diddle, diddle.\\nThe cat and the fiddle.\\nI take no note of, it being of a frivolous char-\\nacter, and lacking in the qualities of true\\npoetry. I collected fourpence by the recital of\\nI remember, I remember. I knew it was\\nfourpence, because they told me that if I kept\\nit until I got twopence more I should have six-\\npence, which argument, albeit undeniable,\\nmoved me not, and the money was squandered,\\nto the best of my recollection, on the very next\\nmorning, although upon what memory is a\\nblank.\\nThat is just the way with Memory; nothing\\nthat she brings to us is complete. She is a\\nwilful child all her toys are broken. I remem-\\nber tumbling into a huge dust-hole, when a\\nvery small boy, but I have not the faintest rec-\\nollection of ever getting out again and, if\\nmemory were all we had to trust to, I should\\nbe compelled to believe I was there still. At", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0170.jp2"}, "171": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 159\\nanother time some years later I was assist-\\ning at an exceeding-ly interesting love scene;\\nbut the only thing about it I can call to mind\\ndistinctly is that, at the most critical moment,\\nsomebody suddenly opened the door and said,\\nEmily, you re wanted, in a sepulchral tone,\\nthat gave one the idea the police had come for\\nher. All the tender words she said to me, and\\nall the beautiful things I said to her, are ut-\\nterly forgotten.\\nLife, altogether, is but a crumbling ruin,\\nwhen we turn to look behind: a shattered col-\\numn here, where a massive portal stood; the\\nbroken shaft of a window to mark my lady s\\nbovvrer; and a moldering heap of blackened\\nstones where the glowing flames once leapt,\\nand over all, the tinted lichen and the ivy\\nclinging green.\\nFor everything looms pleasant through the\\nsoftening haze of time. Even the sadness that\\nis past seems sweet. Our boyish days look\\nvery merry to us now, all nutting, hoop, and\\nginger-bread. The snubbings and toothaches\\nand the Latin verbs are all forgotten the\\nLatin verbs especially. And we fancy we were\\nvery happy when we were hobbledehoys, and\\nloved and we wish that we could love again.\\nWe never think of the heartaches, or the sleep-\\nless nights, or the hot dr^mess of our throats,\\nwhen she said she could never be anything to\\nus but a sister as if any man wanted more sis-\\nters!\\nYes, it is the brightness, not the darkness,\\nthat we see when we look back. The sunshine", "height": "2805", "width": "1664", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0171.jp2"}, "172": {"fulltext": "160 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\ncasts no shadows on the past. The road that\\nwe have traversed stretches very fair behind\\nus. We see not the sharp stones. We dwell\\nbut on the roses by the wayside, and the strong-\\nbriers that stung us aje,to our distant .eyes, but\\ngentle, tendrils waving in the w4nd. God be\\nthanked that it is so that the ever-lengthen-\\ning chain of memory has only pleasant links,\\nand that the bitterness and sorrow of to-day\\nare smiled at on the morrow.\\nIt seems as though the brightest side of\\neverything were also its highest and best, so\\nthat, as our little lives sink back behind us into\\nthe dark sea of forgetfulness, all that which is\\nthe lightest and the most gladsome is the last\\nto sink, and stands above the waters, long in\\nsight, when the angry thoughts and smarting\\npain are buried deep below the waves and\\ntrouble us no more.\\nIt is this glamour of the past, I suppose, that\\nmakes old folks talk so much nonsense about\\nthe days when they were young. The world\\nappears to have been a very superior sort of\\nplace then, and things were more like what\\nthey ought to be. Boys were boys then, and\\ngirls were very different. Also winters were\\nsomething like winters, and summers not at all\\nthe wretched things we get put off with nowa-\\ndays. As for the wonderful deeds people did\\nin those times, and the extraordinary events\\nthat happened, it takes three strong men to\\nbelieve half of them.\\nI like to hear one of the old boys telling all\\nabout it to a party of youngsters who he knows", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0172.jp2"}, "173": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 161\\ncannot contradict him. It is odd if, after a\\nwhile he doesn t swear that the moon shone\\nevery night when he was a boy, and that toss-\\ning mad bulls in a blanket was a favorite\\nsport at his schooL\\nIt always has been, and always will be the\\nsame. The old folk of our grandfathers young\\ndays sang a song bearing exactly the same bur-\\nden; and the young folk of to-day will drone\\nout precisely similar nonsense for the aggrava-\\ntion of the next generation. Oh, give me\\nback the good old days of fifty years ago! has\\nbeen the cry ever since Adam s fifty-first\\nbirthday. Take up the literature of 1835, and\\nyou will find the poets and novelists asking for\\nthe same impossible gift, as did the German\\nMinnesingers, long before them, and the old\\nNorse Saga writers long before that. And for\\nthe same thing, sighed the early prophets and\\nthe philosophers of ancient Greece. From all\\naccounts, the world has been getting worse\\nand worse ever since it was created. All I can\\nsay is that it must have been a remarkably\\ndelightful place when it was first opened to the\\npublic, for it is very pleasant, even now, if you\\nonly keep as much as possible in the sunshine,\\nand take the rain good-temperedly.\\nYet there is no gainsaying but what it must\\nhave been somewhat sweeter in that dewy\\nmorning of creation, when it was young and\\nfresh, when the feet of the trampling millions\\nhad not trodden its grass to dust, nor the din\\nof the myriad cities chased the silence forever\\naway. Life must have been noble and solemn\\n11 Idle Thoughts", "height": "2805", "width": "1664", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0173.jp2"}, "174": {"fulltext": "162 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nto those free-focted, loose-robed fathers of the\\nhuman race, walking hand-in-hand with God\\nunder the great sk3^ They lived in sun-kissed\\ntents amidst the lowing herds. They took\\ntheir simple wants from the loving hand of\\nNature. They toiled and talked and thought;\\nand the great earth rolled around in stillness,\\nnot yet laden with trouble and wrong.\\nThose days are past now. The quiet child-\\nhood of Humanity, spent in the far-off forest\\nglades, and by the murmuring rivers, is gone\\nforever; and human life is deepening down to\\nmanhood amidst tumult, doubt and hope. Its\\nage of restful peace is past. It has its work to\\nfinish, and must hasten on. What that work\\nmay be what this world s share is in the great\\nDesign we know not, though our unconscious\\nhands are helping to accomplish it. Like the\\ntiny coral insect, working deep under the dark\\nwaters, we strive and struggle each for our\\nown little ends, nor dream of the vast Fabric\\nwe are building up for God.\\nLet us have done with vain regrets and long-\\nings for the days that never will be ours again.\\nOur work lies in front, not behind us; and\\nForward! is our motto. Let us not sit with\\nfolded hands, gazing upon the past as if it were\\nthe building; it is but the foundation. Let us\\nnot waste heart and life, thinking of what\\nmight have been, and forgetting the maybe\\nthat lies before us. Opportunities flit by while\\nwe sit regretting the chances we have lost, and\\nthe happiness that comes to us we heed not,\\nbecause of the happiness that is gone.", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0174.jp2"}, "175": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 163\\nYears ago, when I used to wander of an\\nevening from the fireside to the pleasant land\\nof fairy tales, I met a doughty knight and true.\\nMany dangers had he overcome, in m.any lands\\nhad been and all men knew him for a brave\\nand well-tried knight and one that knew not\\nfear; except, maybe, upon such seasons when\\neven a brave man might feel afraid, and yet\\nnot be ashamed. Now, as this knight, one\\nday, was pricking wearily along a toilsome\\nroad, his heart misgave him, and was sore\\nwithin him, because of the trouble of the way.\\nRocks, dark and of a monstrous size, hung high\\nabove his head, and like enough it seemed\\nunto the knight that they should fall, and he\\nlie low beneath them. Chasms there were on\\neither side, and darksome caves, wherein fierce\\nrobbers lived, and dragons very terrible, whose\\njaws dripped blood. And upon the road there\\nhung a darkness as of night. So it came over\\nthat good knight that he would no more press\\nforward, but seek another road, less grievously\\nbeset with difficulty unto his gentle steed. But,\\nwhen in haste he turned and looked behind,\\nmuch marveled our brave knight, for, lo! of\\nall the way that he had ridden, there was\\nnaught for eye to see; but, at his horse s heels\\nthere yawned a mighty gulf, whereof no man\\nmight ever spy the bottom, so deep was that\\nsame gulf. Then, when Sir Ghelent saw that\\nof going back there was none, he prayed to\\ngood Saint Cuthbert, and setting spurs into his\\nsteed, rode forward bravely and most joyously.\\nAnd nausfht harmed him.", "height": "2805", "width": "1664", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0175.jp2"}, "176": {"fulltext": "164 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nThere is no returning on the road of life.\\nThe frail bridge of Time, on which we tread,\\nsinks back into eternity at every step we take.\\nThe past is gone from us forever. It is gath-\\nered in and garnered. It belongs to us no\\nmore. No single word can ever be unspoken\\nno single step retraced. Therefore, it beseems\\nus, as true knights, to prick on bravely, not\\nidly weep because we cannot now recall.\\nA new life begins for us with every second.\\nLet us go forward joyously to meet it. We\\nmust press on, whether we will or no, and we\\nshall walk better with our eyes before us than\\nwith them ever cast behind.\\nA friend came to me the other day, and\\nurged me very eloquently to learn some won-\\nderful system by which you never forgot any-\\nthing. I don t know why he was so eager on\\nthe subject, unless it be that I occasionally\\nborrow an umbrella, and have a knack of com-\\ning out, in the middle of a game of whist, with\\na mild, Lor I ve been thinking all along\\nthat clubs Vv^ere trumps. I declined the sug-\\ngestion, however, in spite of the advantages he\\nso attractively set forth. I have no wish to\\nremember everything. There are many things\\nin most men s lives that had better be forgot-\\nten. There is that time, many years ago when\\nwe did not act quite as honorably, quite as up-\\nrightly, as we, perhaps, should have done that\\nunfortunate deviation from the path of strict\\nprobity we once committed, and in which more\\nunfortunate still, we were found out that act\\nof folly, of meanness, of wrong. Ah, well!", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0176.jp2"}, "177": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 165\\nwe paid the penalty, suffered the maddening\\nhours of vain remorse, the hot agony of shame,\\nthe scorn, perhaps, of those we loved. Let us\\nforget. Oh, Father Time, lift with your kindly\\nhands those bitter memories from off our over-\\nburdened hearts, for griefs are ever coming to\\nus with the coming hours, and our little\\nstrength is only as the day.\\nNot that the past should be buried. The\\nmusic of life would be mute if the chords of\\nmemory were snapped asunder. It is but the\\npoisonous weeds, not the flowers, that we\\nshould root out from the garden of Mnemo-\\nsyne. Do you remember Dicken s Haunted\\nMan, how he prayed for forgetfulness, and\\nhow, when his prayer was answered, he\\nprayed for memory once more? We do not\\nwant all the ghosts laid. It is only the hag-\\ngard, blue-eyed spectres that we flee from.\\nLet the gentle, kindly phantoms haunt us as\\nthey will we are not afraid of them.\\nAh me the world grows very full of ghosts\\nas we grow older. We need not seek in dis-\\nmal churchyards nor sleep in moated granges,\\nto see their shadowy faces, and hear the rust-\\nling of their garments in the night. Every\\nhouse, every room, every creaking chair has\\nits own particular ghost. They haunt the\\nempty chambers of our lives, they throng\\nround us like dead leaves whirled in the\\nautumn wind. Some are living, some are\\ndead. We know not. We clasped their hands\\nonce, loved them, quarreled with them,\\nlaughed with them, told them our thoughts", "height": "2805", "width": "1664", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0177.jp2"}, "178": {"fulltext": "166 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nand hopes and aims, as the}^ told us theirs,\\ntill it seemed our very hearts had joined in a\\ngrip that would defy the puny power of\\nDeath. They are gone now lost to us for-\\never. Their eyes will never look into ours\\nagain, and their voices we shall never hear.\\nOnly their ghosts come to us, and talk with\\nus. We see them, dim and shadowy, through\\nour tears. We stretch our yearning hands to\\nthem, but they are air.\\nGhosts! They are with us night and day.\\nThey walk beside us in the busy street, un-\\nder the glare of the sun. They sit by us in\\nthe twilight at home. We see their little faces\\nlooking from the windows of the old school-\\nhouse. We meet them in the woods and lanes,\\nwhere we shouted and played as boys. Hark!\\ncannot you hear their low laughter from be-\\nhind the blackberry bushes, and their distant\\nwhoops along the grassy glades? Down here,\\nthrough the quiet fields, and b)^ the wood,\\nwhere the evening shadows are lurking, winds\\nthe path where we used to watch for her at\\nsunset. Look, she is there now, in the dainty\\nwhite frock we knew so well, with the big\\nbonnet dangling from her little hands, and the\\nsunny brown hair all tangled. Five thousand\\nmiles away Dead, for all we know What\\nof that! She is beside us now, and we can\\nlook into her laughing eyes, and hear her voice.\\nShe will vanish at the stile by the wood, and\\nwe shall be alone and the shadows will creep\\nout across the fields, and the night wind will\\nsweep past, moaning. Ghosts! they are", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0178.jp2"}, "179": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 167\\nalways with us, and always will be, while the\\nsad old world keeps echoing to the sob of long\\ngood-byes, while the cruel ships sail away\\nacross the great seas, and the cold, green earth\\nlies heavy on the hearts of those we loved.\\nBut, oh, ghosts, the world would be sadder\\nstill without you. Come to us, and speak to\\nus, O you ghosts of our old loves! Ghosts of\\nplaymates, and of sweethearts, and old friends,\\nof all 3^ou laughing boys and girls, oh, come\\nto us, and be with us, for the world is very\\nlonely, and new friends and faces are not like\\nthe old and we cannot love them, nay, nor\\nlaugh with them as we have loved and laughed\\nwith you. And when we walked together, O\\nghosts of our youth, the world was very gay\\nand bright but now it has grown old, and we\\nare growing weary, and only you can bring the\\nbrightness and the freshness back to us.\\nMemory is a rare ghost raiser. Like a\\nhaunted house, its walls are ever echoing to\\nunseen feet. Through the broken casements\\nwe watch the flitting shadows of the dead, and\\nthe saddest shadows of them all the shadows\\nof our own dead selves.\\nOh, those young, bright faces, so full of truth\\nand honor, of pure, good thoughts, of noble\\nlongings, how reproachfully they look upon us,\\nwith their deep, clear eyes!\\nI fear they have good cause for their sorrow,\\npoor lads. Lies and cunning and disbelief\\nhave crept into our hearts since those pre-\\nshaving days and we meant to be so great\\nand good.", "height": "2805", "width": "1664", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0179.jp2"}, "180": {"fulltext": "168 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nIt is well we cannot see into the future.\\nThere are few boys of fourteen who would\\nnot feel ashamed of themselves at forty.\\nI like to sit and have a talk sometimes with\\nthat odd little chap that was myself long ago.\\nI think he likes it too, for he comes so often\\nof an evening when I am alone with my pipe,\\nlistening to the whispering of the flames. I\\nsee his solemn little face looking at me\\nthrough the scented smoke as it floats upward,\\nand I smile at him, and he smiles back at\\nme, but his is such a grave, old-fashioned smile.\\nWe chat about old times and now and then he\\ntakes me by the hand, and then we slip\\nthrough the black bars of the grate and down\\nthe dusky glowing caves, to the land that lies\\nbehind the firelight. There we find^the days\\nthat used to be, and we wander along them to-\\ngether. He tells me as we walk all he thinks\\nand feels. I laugh at him now and then, but\\nthe next moment I wish I had not, for he\\nlooks so grave I am ashamed of being frivo-\\nlous. Besides, it is not showing proper re-\\nspect to one so much older than myself to\\none who was myself so very long before I be-\\ncame myself.\\nWe don t talk much at first, but look at one\\nanother I down at his curly hair and little\\nblue brow, he up sideways at me as he trots.\\nAnd, somehow, I fancy the shy, round eyes\\ndo not altogether approve of me, and he\\nheaves a little sigh as though he were disap-\\npointed. But, after a while, his bashfulness\\nwears off, and he begins to chat. He tells me\\nto", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0180.jp2"}, "181": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW. 169\\nhis favorite fairy tales, he can do up to six\\ntimes, and he has a guinea-pig, and pa says\\nfairy tales ain t true; and isn t it a pity, cos\\nhe would so like to be a knight and fight a\\ndragon and marry a beautiful princess. But he\\ntakes a more practical view of life when he\\nreaches seven, and would prefer to grow up, be\\na bargee, and earn a lot of money. Maybe\\nthis is the consequence of falling in love, which\\nhe does about this time, with the young lady\\nat the milk-shop, set. six. (God bless her lit-\\ntle ever- dancing feet, whatever size they may\\nbe now He must be very fond of her, for\\nhe gives her one day his chiefest treasure, to\\nwit, a huge pocket-knife, with four rusty\\nblades and a cork-screw, which latter has a\\nknack of working itself out in some mysterious\\nmanner, and sticking into its owner s leg. She\\nis an affectionate little thing, and she throws\\nher arms around his neck and kisses him for\\nit, then and there, outside the shop. But the\\nstupid world (in the person of the boy at the\\ncigar emporium next door) jeers at such\\ntokens of love. Whereupon my young friend\\nvery properly prepares to punch the head of\\nthe boy at the cigar emporium next door; but\\nfails in the attempt, the boy at the cigar em-\\nporium next door punching his instead.\\nAnd then comes school life, with its bitter\\nlittle sorrows and its joyous shoutings, its jolly\\nlarks, and its hot tears falling on beastly Latin\\ngrammars and silly old copy-books. It is at\\nschool that he injures himself for life as I\\nfirmly believe trying to pronounce German;", "height": "2805", "width": "1664", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0181.jp2"}, "182": {"fulltext": "170 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nand it is there, too, that he learns of the im-\\nportance attached by the French nation to\\npens, ink, and paper. Have you pens, ink\\nand paper? is the first question asked by one\\nFrenchman of another on their meeting. The\\nother fellow has not any of them, as a rule,\\nbut sa^^s that the uncle of his brother has got\\nthem all three. The first fellow doesn t appear\\nto care a hang about the uncle of the other\\nfellow s brother: what he wants to know now\\nis, has the neighbor of the other fellow s\\nmother got em? The neighbor of my\\nmother has no pens, no ink, and no paper,\\nreplies the other man, beginning to get wild.\\nHas the child of thy female gardener some\\npens, some ink, or some paper? He has him\\nthere. After worrying enough about these\\nwretched inks, pens, and papers to make every-\\nbody miserable, it turns out that the child of\\nhis own female gardener hasn t any. Such a\\ndiscovery would shut up any one but a French\\nexercise man. It has no effect at all, though,\\non this shameless creature. He never thinks\\nof apologizing, but says his aunt had some\\nmustard.\\nSo, in the acquisition of more or less useless\\nknowledge, soon happily to be forgotten, boy-\\nhood passes away. The red-brick schoolhouse\\nfades from view, and we turn down into the\\nworld s high-road. My little friend is no longer\\nlittle now. The short jacket has sprouted\\ntails. The battered cap so useful as a com-\\nbination of pocket-handkerchief, drinking cup,\\nand weapon of attack, has grown high and", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0182.jp2"}, "183": {"fulltext": "IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOV.\\\\ \u00e2\u0096\u00a0.71\\nglossy; and instead of a slate-pencil in his\\nmouth there is a cigarette, the smoke of which\\ntroubles him, for it will get up his nose. He\\ntries a cigar a little later on, as being more\\nstylish a big, black Havana. It doesn t seem\\naltogether to agree with him, for I find him\\nsitting over a bucket in the back kitchen after-\\nward, solemnly swearing never to smoke\\nagain.\\nAnd now his mustache begins to be almost\\nvisible to the naked eye, whereupon he im-\\nmediately takes to brandy-and-sodas, and fan-\\ncies himself a man. He talks about two to\\none against the favorite, refers to actresses\\nas Little Emmy, and Kate, and Baby,\\nand murmurs about his losses at cards the\\nother night, in a style implying that thou-\\nsands have been squandered, though, to do\\nhim justice, the actual amount is most prob-\\nably one-and-twopence. Also, if I see aright\\nfor it is always twilight in this land of\\nmemories he sticks an eyeglass in his ej^e,\\nand stumbles everything.\\nHis female relations, much troubled at these\\nthings, pray for him (bless their gentle\\nhearts!) and see visions of Old Bailey trials and\\nhalters as the only possible outcome of such\\nreckless dissipation and the prediction of his\\nfirst schoolmaster, that he would come to a\\nbad end, assumes the proportions of inspired\\nprophecy.\\nHe has a lordly contempt at this age for the\\nother sex, a blatantly good opinion of himself,\\nand a sociably patronizing manner toward all", "height": "2805", "width": "1664", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0183.jp2"}, "184": {"fulltext": "172 IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW.\\nthe elderly male friends of the family. Alto-\\ng-ether, it must be confessed, he is somewhat\\nof a nuisance about this time.\\nIt does not last long, though. He falls in\\nlove in a little while, and that soon takes the\\nbounce out of him. I notice his boots are\\nmuch too small for him now, and his hair is\\nfearfulljT- and wonderfully arranged. He reads\\npoetry more than he used, and he keeps a\\nrhyming dictionary in his bedroom. Every\\nmorning, on the floor, Emily Jane finds scraps\\nof torn-up paper, and reads thereon of cruel\\nhearts and love s deep darts, of beauteous\\neyes and lovers sighs, and much more of the\\nold, old song that lads so love to sing, and las-\\nsies love to listen to, while giving their dainty\\nheads a toss, and pretending never to hear.\\nThe course of love, however, seems not to\\nhave run smoothly, for, later on, he takes\\nmore walking exercise and less sleep, poor\\nboy, than is good for him and his face is sug-\\ngestive of anything but wedding bells and hap-\\npiness ever after.\\nAnd here he seems to vanish. The little,\\nboyish self that has grown up beside me as we\\nwalked, is gone.\\nI am alone, and the road is very dark. I\\nstumble on, I know not how nor care, for the\\nways seems leading nowhere, and there is no\\nlight to guide.\\nBut at last the morning comes, and I find\\nthat I have grown into myself.\\nTHE END.", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0184.jp2"}, "185": {"fulltext": "W. B. CONKEY GOjQPflKY S FOBLICHTIONS\\nONE HUNDRED SELECTED POPULAR STANDARD BOOKS.\\nMASTERPIECES OF LITERATURE, BY THE\\nWORLD S MOST FAMOUS AUTHORS\\nPrinted From New, Perfect Plates\\nBOUND IN THREE SERIES, AS FOLLOWS:\\nTHE IVORY SERIES\\nSEE LIST OF TITLES ON NEXT PAGE\\nThree original full page illustrations and portrait of the\\nauthor in each book. Beautifully illuminated title page. Printed\\nwith the greatest care on fine laid paper, from clear, open-faced\\ntype. Bound in superb style with white vellum cloth and imported\\nfancy paper sides, artistically stamped in gold, with gold top and\\nsilk ribbon marker. Each book in neat covered box. 16mo size.\\nAn exquisite series of gift books. Price, 60c.\\nTHE UNIVERSITY SERIES\\nSEE LIST OF TITLES ON NEXT PAGE\\nAn unexcelled library of standard works. Bound in a beautiful\\nand durable heavy ribbed cloth, handsomely stamped in gilt and\\ntwo colors of ink. A perfect portrait of the author and three full\\npage original illustrations in each volume. Title page in colors.\\nPrinted on fine laid paper, from new, clear type. Wrapped in neat\\ncolored printed wrappers. 16mo size. Price, 35c.\\nTHE AMARANTH SERIES\\nSEE LIST OF TITLES ON NEXT PAGE\\nThe latest, handsomest, and best selected series of standard\\nbooks at a popular price. Printed on good paper from new type,\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2and bound in strong cloth, artistically stamped with original\\ndesign in two colors of ink. Printed colored wrappers. 16mo size.\\nPrice, 25c.\\nAll of tiie above series are for sale by leading booksellers\\naverywhere. Ask for them by the name of the series, or\\nWill be sent postpaid, on receipt of price, by the publishers.\\nW. B. CONKEY COMPANY, Chicago\\nWORKS: Hammond. Ind.", "height": "2805", "width": "1664", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0185.jp2"}, "186": {"fulltext": "W. B. CGHKEY COMPANY S PUBLICATIONS\\n1. Abb6 Constantin Hal^vy\\n2. Adventures of a Brownie. ..Mulock\\n3. All Aboard Optic\\n4. Aiije s Adventures in Wonderland\\nCarroll\\n5. An Attic Philosopher in Paris\\nSouvestre\\n6. Autobiof^raphy of Benjamin\\nFranklin\\n7. Autocrat of the Breakfast Table\\nHolmes\\n11. BiLCoa s Esr.ays Bacon\\n1-. Barrack Room Ballads.. .Kipling\\n13. Beside the Bonnie Brier Bush\\nMaclaren\\n14. Black Beauty Sewall\\n15. BUthedale Romance. .Hawthorne\\n16. Eoi.t Club Ol)tic\\n17. Bracebridpe Hall Irving\\n18. Brooks Addresses\\n10. Browning s Poems Browning\\n24. Childe Harold s Pilgrimage\\nByron\\n25. Child s History of England\\nDickens\\n26. Cranf ord Gaskell\\n27. Crown of Wild Olives Ruskin\\n50. Daily Food for Christians\\n31. Departmental Ditties.... Kipling\\nS2. Dolly Dialogues Hope\\n33. Dream Life Mitchell\\nS4. Drummond s Addresses\\nDrummond\\nST?. Emerson s Essays, Vol. 1\\nEmerson\\n38. Emerson s Essays, Vol. 2\\nEmerson\\n59. Ethics of the Dust Ruskin\\n40. Evangeline Longfellow\\n43. Flower Fables Alcott\\n48. Gold Dust Yonge\\n49. Heroes and Hero Worship. Oarlyle\\nFO. Hiawatha Longfellow\\n51. House of Seven Gables\\nHawthorne\\nB2. House of the Wolf Weyman\\n57. Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow\\nJerome\\n58. Idylls of the King Tennyson\\n69. Imitation of Christ\\nThos. a Kempls\\n60. In Memoriam Tennyson\\n64. Jobn Halifax Mulock\\n67. Kept for the Master s Use\\nHavergal\\nG8. Kidnapped Stevenson\\n69. King of the Golden River.. Ruskin\\n73. Laddie\\n74. Lady of the Lake Scott\\n75. LriHa Rookh Moore\\n7fi. Let Us Follow Him.. .Sienkievricz\\n?7. Light of Asia Arnold\\nLight That Failed Kipling\\nLocksley Hall Tennyson\\nLongfellow s Poems\\nLongfellow\\nLorna Doone Blackmore\\nLowell s Poems Lowell\\nLucile Meredith\\nMarmion Scott\\nMosses from an Old Manse\\nHawthorne\\nNatural Law in the Spiritual\\nWorld Drummond\\nNow or Never Optic\\nParadise Lost Milton\\nPaul and Virginia\\nSaint Pierre\\nPilgrim s Progress Bunyan\\nPlain Tales from the Hills\\nKipling\\nPleasures of Life Lubbock\\nPrince of the House of David\\nIngraham\\nPrincess Tennyson\\nPrue and I Curtis\\nQueen of the Air Ruskin\\nRab and His Friends. Brown\\nRepresentative Men. .Emerson\\nReveries of a Bachelor\\nMitchell\\nHollo in Geneva Abbott\\nRoUo in Holland Abbott\\nRollo in London Abbott\\nRollo in Naples Abbott\\nRollo in Paris Abbott\\nRollo in Rome Abbott\\nRollo in Scotland Abbott\\nRollo in Switzerland. .Abbott\\nRollo on the Atlantic. ..Abbott\\nRollo on the Rhine Abbott\\nRubaiyat of Omar Khayyam\\nFitzgerald\\nSartor Resartus Carlyle\\nScarlet Letter Hawthorne\\nSesame and Lilies Ruskin\\nSign of the Four Doyle\\nSketch Book Irving\\nStickit Minister Crockett\\nTales from Shakespeare\\nC. and Mary Lamb\\nTanglewood Tales. .Hawthorne\\nTrue and Beautiful Ruskin\\nThree Men in a Boat. .Jerome\\nThrough the Looking Glass\\nCarroll\\nTreasure Island Stevenson\\nTwice Told Tales.. Hawthorne\\nUncle Tom s Cabin Stowe\\nVicar of Wakefield. .Goldsmith\\nWhittier s Poems Whittier\\nWide, Wide World .Warner\\nWindow in Thrums Barrie\\nWonder Book Hawthorne", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0186.jp2"}, "187": {"fulltext": "W. B. GoNKEY immn Fdblichtions\\nCOMPLETE LIST OF THE POETIC AND PROSE\\nWORKS OF\\nElla Wheeler Wilcox\\nPOEMS OF PASSION. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. Presentation\\nEdition\u00e2\u0080\u0094 white vellum, gold top, $1.50. Presentation\\nEdition\u00e2\u0080\u0094 half calf, gold top, $2.50.\\nPOEMS OF PASSION. Quarto, cloth. Illustrated\\nEdition, $1.50.\\nPOEMS OF PASSION. Pocket Edition, Illustrated\u00e2\u0080\u0094 16mo,\\ncloth, 75 cents; full morocco, gold edges, $2.50.\\nHuman nature is less of a mystery after the reading of this book.\\nOnly a woman of genius conld produce such a remarkable\\nwork. Illustrated London News.\\nMAURINE AND OTHER POEMS. 12mo, cloth, $1.00.\\nPresentation Edition\u00e2\u0080\u0094 white vellum, gold top, $1.50.\\nPresentation Edition half calf, gold top, $2,50.\\nBeautiful thoughts and healthy inspiration in every line.\\nMaurine is an ideal poem about a perfect woma,u.^^\u00e2\u0080\u0094 The South.\\nPOEMS OF PLEASURE. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. Presenta-\\ntion Edition white vellum, gold top, $1.50. Presenta-\\ntion Edition half calf, gold top, $2.50.\\nThese poems make life doubly sweet and cheerful.\\nMrs. Wilcox is an artist with a touch that reminds one of\\nLord Byron s impassionate strains. Paris Register.\\nTHREE WOMEN. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. Presentation\\nEdition\u00e2\u0080\u0094 art binding, gold top, boxed, $1.50.\\nHer latest and greatest poem. This marvelous narrative ot\\nthrilling interest depicts the lives of three good and beautiful\\nwomen in every phase of loeakness, passion, pride, love, sympathy\\nand tenderness,\\nAN AMBITIOUS MAN. (Prose.) 12mo, cloth, $1.00.\\nVivid realism stands forth from every page of this fascinating\\nhook. Every Day.", "height": "2805", "width": "1664", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0187.jp2"}, "188": {"fulltext": "WORKS OF ELLA WHEELER WILCOX (Continued)\\nHOW SALVATOR WON AND OTHER POEMS. 12mo,\\ncloth, $1,00. Presentation Edition white vellum, gold\\ntop, $1.50. Presentation Edition half calf, gold top,\\n$2.50.\\nA choice collection of recitations, specially compiled for read-\\ners and impersonators.\\nHername is a household word. Hergreat power lies in depict-\\ning human emotions and in handling that grandest of all passions\\n\u00e2\u0080\u0094love\u00e2\u0080\u0094 she wields the pen of a master. T^e Saturday Record.\\nCUSTER AND OTHER POEMS. Handsomely illustrated.\\n12mo, cloth, $1.00. Presentation Edition white vellum,\\ngold top. $1.50. Presentation Edition\u00e2\u0080\u0094 half calf, gold\\ntop, $2.50.\\nA grand epic of the ezploits and massacre of the immortal\\nCuster.\\nOne cannot help gaining new impetus for the spiritual exist-\\nence from coming in contact, mentally, with such ideal sentiments\\nand emotions as this rarely gifted poetess voices in magnificent\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0verse. Universal Truth.\\nAN ERRING WOMAN S LOVE. 12mo. cloth, $1.00.\\nPresentation Edition white vellum, gold top, $1.50.\\nPresentation Edition half calf, gold top, $2.50.\\nPower and pathos characterize this magnificent poem. A\\ndeep understanding of life and an intense sympathy are beauti-\\nfully expressed. rribwwe.\\nMEN, WOMEN AND EMOTIONS. (Prose.) 12mo, heavy\\nenameled paper cover, 50 cents English cloth, $1.00.\\nA skillful analysis of social habits, customs and follies.\\nHer fame has reached all parts of the world, and her popuL\\nity seems to grow with each succeeding year. American Newsma.\\nTHE BEAUTIFUL LAND OF NOD. (Poems, songs anc\\nstories.) With over sixty original illustrations. Quarto.\\ncloth, $1.00.\\nThe delight of the nursery. A charming mother s book.\\nThe foremost baby e book of the world. New Orleans\\nPicayune.\\nPRESENTATION SETS. Poems of Passion, Maurine.\\nPoems of Pleasure, How Salvator Won, and Custer, are\\nsupplied in sets of 3, 4, or 5 titles, as may be desired, in\\nneat boxes, without extra charge.\\nELLA WHEELER WILCOX S WORKS are for sale by leading book-\\nsellers everywhere, or will be sent postpaid on receipt of price by\\ntbe Publishers.\\nVK. B, CONKEY COMPANY, Chicago\\ni\\\\\\nii?^4 8fi", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0188.jp2"}, "189": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2805", "width": "1664", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0189.jp2"}, "190": {"fulltext": "S^\\n\u00c2\u00abo\\n-S Deacidified using the Bookkeeper proc(\\nNeutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide\\nG^ v5 Treatment Date: April 2009\\nPreservationTechnologii\\nA WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVAT\\n111 Thomson Park Drive\\nCranberry Township, PA 16066\\n(724)779-2111", "height": "2793", "width": "1644", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0190.jp2"}, "191": {"fulltext": "F5 I", "height": "2805", "width": "1664", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0191.jp2"}, "192": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2906", "width": "1913", "jp2-path": "idlethoughtsofid02jero_0192.jp2"}}