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349
The Journal of a Disappointed Man
·
W. N. P. Barbellion
323
March
12.
Archæopteryx
and
Mudflats
Yesterday
I
collected
two
distinct
and
several
twinges
and
hereby
save
them
up.
They
were
more
than
that--they
were
pangs,
and
pangs
that
twanged.
(Why
do
I
make
fun
of
my
suffering?)
One
was
when
I
saw
the
well-known
figure
of
the
Archæopteryx
remains
in
the
slab
of
Lithographic
sandstone
of
Bavaria:
a
reproduction
in
an
illustrated
encyclopædia.
The
other
was
when
someone
mentioned
mud,
and
I
thought
of
the
wide
estuary
of
the
T----,
its
stretches
of
mudflats
and
its
wild-fowl.
We
were
turning
over
some
pages
and
she
said:
"What's
that?"
"Archæopteryx,"
said
I.
"Whatever
is
Archæopteryx?"
"An
extinct
bird,"
I
answered
mournfully.
Like
an
old
amour,
my
love
of
palæontology
and
anatomy,
and
all
the
high
hopes
I
entertained
of
them,
came
smarting
to
life
again,
so
I
turned
over
the
page
quickly.
But
why
need
I
explain
to
you,
O
my
Journal?
To
others,
I
could
not
explain.
I
was
tongue-tied.
"I
used
to
get
very
muddy,"
I
remarked
lamentably,
"in
the
old
days
when
stalking
birds
on
the
mudflats."
And
they
rather
jeered
at
such
an
occupation
in
such
a
place,
just
as
those
beautiful
sights
and
sounds
of
zostera-covered
mud-banks,
twinkling
runnels,
swiftly
running
thin-legged
waders,
their
whistles
and
cries
began
to
steal
over
my
memory
like
a
delicate
pain.
To
my
infinite
regret,
I
have
no
description,
no
photograph
or
sketch,
no
token
of
any
sort
to
remember
them
by.
And
their
doom
is
certain.
Heavens!
how
I
wasted
my
impressions
and
experiences
then!
Swinburne
has
some
lines
about
saltings
which
console
me
a
little,
but
I
know
of
no
other
descriptions
by
either
pen
or
brush.
Marker
Marker
Fine marker
White-out
Fine white-out
Circle
Paint
Unmarker
Hand
Scalpel
Dice
Sieve
Purify
Undo
Redo
Start over
