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349
The Journal of a Disappointed Man
·
W. N. P. Barbellion
225
May
31.
Sitting
at
tea
in
the
farm
house
to-day
E----
cried
suddenly,
pointing
to
a
sandy
cat
in
the
garden:
"There,--he's
the
father
of
the
little
kittens
in
the
barn
and
I'll
tell
you
how
we
know.
P----
noticed
the
kittens
had
big
feet
and
later
on
saw
that
old
Tom
stalking
across
the
garden
with
big
feet
of
exactly
the
same
kind."
"So
you
impute
the
paternity
of
the
kittens
to
the
gentleman
under
the
laurel
bushes?"
I
looked
at
the
kittens
to-night
and
found
they
had
extra
toes.
"Mr.
Sixtoes,"
as
W----
calls
him
also
possesses
six
toes,
so
the
circumstantial
evidence
looks
black
against
him.
June
1.
In
the
Beech
Wood
all
the
morning.
Heigh-ho!
it's
grand
to
lie
out
as
straight
as
a
line
on
your
back,
gaze
upwards
into
the
tree
above,
and
with
a
caressing
eye
follow
its
branches
out
into
their
multitudinous
ramifications
forward
and
back--luxurious
travel
for
the
tired
eye.
...
Then
I
would
shut
my
eyes
and
try
to
guess
where
her
next
kiss
would
descend.
Then
I
opened
my
eyes
and
watched
her
face
in
the
most
extravagant
detail,
I
counted
the
little
filaments
on
her
precious
mole
and
saw
the
sun
thro'
the
golden
down
of
her
throat....
Sunlight
and
a
fresh
wind.
A
day
of
tiny
cameos,
little
coups
d'œil,
fleeting
impressions
snapshotted
on
the
mind:
the
glint
on
the
keeper's
gun
as
he
crossed
a
field
a
mile
away
below
us,
sunlight
all
along
a
silken
hawser
which
some
Spider
engineer
had
spun
between
the
tops
of
two
tall
trees
spanning
the
whole
width
of
a
bridle
path,
the
constant
patter
of
Shrew-mice
over
dead
leaves,
the
pendulum
of
a
Bumble-bee
in
a
flower,
and
the
just
perceptible
oscillation
of
the
tree
tops
in
the
wind.
While
we
are
at
meals
the
perfume
of
Lilac
and
Stocks
pours
in
thro'
the
window
and
when
we
go
to
bed
it
is
still
pouring
in
by
the
open
lattice.
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