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Literary Lapses
·
Stephen Leacock
17
Neither
can
I
look
on
with
a
complacent
eye
at
the
sad
spectacle
of
your
young
clerical
friend,
the
Reverend
Mr.
Uttermost
Farthing,
abandoning
himself
to
such
gambols
and
appearing
in
the
role
of
life
and
soul
of
the
evening.
Such
a
degradation
of
his
holy
calling
grieves
me,
and
I
cannot
but
suspect
him
of
ulterior
motives.
You
inform
me
that
your
maiden
aunt
intends
to
help
you
to
entertain
the
party.
I
have
not,
as
you
know,
the
honour
of
your
aunt's
acquaintance,
yet
I
think
I
may
with
reason
surmise
that
she
will
organize
games--guessing
games--in
which
she
will
ask
me
to
name
a
river
in
Asia
beginning
with
a
Z;
on
my
failure
to
do
so
she
will
put
a
hot
plate
down
my
neck
as
a
forfeit,
and
the
children
will
clap
their
hands.
These
games,
my
dear
young
friend,
involve
the
use
of
a
more
adaptable
intellect
than
mine,
and
I
cannot
consent
to
be
a
party
to
them.
May
I
say
in
conclusion
that
I
do
not
consider
a
five-cent
pen-wiper
from
the
top
branch
of
a
Xmas
tree
any
adequate
compensation
for
the
kind
of
evening
you
propose.
I
have
the
honour
To
subscribe
myself,
Your
obedient
servant.
How
to
Make
a
Million
Dollars
I
mix
a
good
deal
with
the
Millionaires.
I
like
them.
I
like
their
faces.
I
like
the
way
they
live.
I
like
the
things
they
eat.
The
more
we
mix
together
the
better
I
like
the
things
we
mix.
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