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349
The Journal of a Disappointed Man
·
W. N. P. Barbellion
142
R----
and
I
walked
up
thro'
Kensington
Gardens
like
two
young
Gods!
"I
even
like
that
bloody
thing,"
I
said,
pointing
to
the
Albert
Memorial.
We
pointed
out
pretty
girls
to
one
another,
watched
the
children
play
ring-a-ring-a-roses
on
the
grass.
We
laughed
exultingly
at
the
thought
of
our
dismal
colleagues
...
tho'
I
said
(as
before!)
I
loved
'em
all--God
bless
'em--even
old
----.
R----
said
it
was
nothing
short
of
insolence
on
their
part
to
have
neglected
the
opportunity
of
coming
to
the
Concert.
Later
on,
an
old
gaffer
up
from
the
country
stopped
us
to
ask
the
way
to
Rotten
Row--I
overwhelmed
him
with
directions
and
happy
descriptive
details.
I
felt
like
walking
with
him
and
showing
him
what
a
wonderful
place
the
world
is.
After
separating
from
R----
very
reluctantly--it
was
horrible
to
be
left
alone
in
such
high
spirits,
walked
up
towards
the
Round
Pond,
and
caught
myself
avoiding
the
shadows
of
the
trees--so
as
to
be
every
moment
out
in
the
blazing
sun.
I
scoffed
inwardly
at
the
timorousness
of
pale,
anæmic
folk
whom
I
passed
hiding
in
the
shadows
of
the
elms.
At
the
Round
Pond,
came
across
a
Bulldog
who
was
biting
out
great
chunks
of
water
and
in
luxuriant
waste-fulness
letting
it
drool
out
again
from
each
corner
of
his
mouth.
I
watched
this
old
fellow
greedily
(it
was
very
hot),
as
well
pleased
with
him
and
his
liquid
"chops"
as
with
anything
I
saw,
unless
it
were
a
girl
and
a
man
lying
full
length
along
the
grass
and
kissing
beneath
a
sunshade.
I
smiled;
she
saw
me,
and
smiled,
too,
in
return,
and
then
fell
to
kissing
again.
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