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349
The Journal of a Disappointed Man
·
W. N. P. Barbellion
144
July
14.
Have
finished
my
essay.
But
am
written
out--obviously.
To-night
I
struggled
with
another,
and
spent
two
hours
sucking
the
end
of
my
pen.
But
after
painfully
mountainous
parturition,
all
I
brought
forth
were
the
two
ridiculous
mice
of
one
meretricious
trope
and
one
grammatical
solecism.
I
can
sometimes
sit
before
a
sheet
of
paper,
pen
in
hand,
unable
to
produce
a
word.
July
19.
For
a
walk
with
R----
in
the
country,
calling
for
tea
at
his
Uncle's
house
at
----.
Played
clock
golf
and
made
the
acquaintance
of
Miss
----,
a
tall,
statuesque
lady,
with
golden
hair,
as
graceful
as
an
antelope
and
very
comely,
her
two
dear
little
feet
clad
in
white
shoes
peeping
out
(as
R----
said)
like
two
white
mice
one
after
the
other
as
she
moved
across
the
lawn.
Coming
home
I
said
to
R----
histrionically,
"Some
golden-haired
little
boy
will
some
day
rest
his
head
upon
her
bosom,
beautiful
in
line
and
depth,
all
unconscious
of
his
luck
or
of
his
part
in
a
beautiful
picture--would
that
I
were
the
father
to
make
that
group
a
fait
accompli."
R----,
with
meticulous
accuracy,
always
refers
to
her
as
"that
elegant
virgin."
July
25.
While
sketching
under
Hammersmith
Bridge
yesterday,
R----
heard
a
whistle,
and,
looking
up,
saw
a
charming
"young
thing"
leaning
over
the
Bridge
parapet
smiling
like
the
blessed
Damozel
out
of
Heaven.
"Come
down,"
he
cried.
She
did,
and
they
discussed
pictures
while
he
painted.
Later
he
walked
with
her
to
the
Broadway,
saw
her
into
a
'bus
and
said
"Good-bye,"
without
so
much
as
an
exchange
of
names.
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