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349
The Journal of a Disappointed Man
·
W. N. P. Barbellion
81
"It
is
a
pleasure
to
note
the
success
attending
the
career
of
Mr.
W.N.P.
Barbellion
now
engaged
in
scientific
work
on
the
staff
of
the
Natural
History
Museum
..."
etc.,
etc.
This
is
a
cutting
from
the
local
paper--one
of
many
that
from
time
to
time
I
once
delightedly
pasted
in
the
pages
of
the
Journal.
Not
so
now.
...
At
23,
I
am
a
different
being.
Surrounded
by
all
the
stimulating
environment
of
scientific
research,
I
am
cold
and
disdainful.
I
keep
up
the
old
appearances
but
underneath
it
is
quite
different.
I
am
a
hypocrite.
I
have
to
wear
the
mask
and
cothornoi,
finding
the
part
daily
more
difficult
to
bear.
I
am
living
on
my
immense
initial
momentum--while
the
machinery
gradually
slows
up.
My
career!
Gadzooks.
1913
January
3.
From
the
drawing-room
window
I
see
pass
almost
daily
an
old
gentleman
with
white
hair,
a
firm
step,
broad
shoulders,
healthy
pink
skin,
a
sunny
smile--always
singing
to
himself
as
he
goes--a
happy,
rosy-cheeked
old
fellow,
with
a
rosy-cheeked
mind....
I
should
like
to
throw
mud
at
him.
By
Jove,
how
I
hate
him.
He
makes
me
wince
with
my
own
pain.
It
is
heartless,
indecently
so,
for
an
old
man
to
be
so
blithe.
Life
has,
I
suppose,
never
lain
in
wait
for
him.
The
Great
Anarchist
has
spared
him
a
bomb.
January
19.
My
Aunt,
aged
75,
who
has
apparently
concluded
from
my
constant
absences
from
Church
that
my
spiritual
life
is
in
a
parlous
way,
to-day
read
me
her
portion
from
a
large
book
with
a
broad
purple-tasseled
bookmark.
I
looked
up
from
"I
Promessi
Sposi"
and
said
"Very
nice."
It
was
about
someone
whose
soul
was
not
saved
and
who
would
not
answer
the
door
when
it
was
knocked.
It
is
jolly
to
be
regarded
as
a
wicked,
libidinous
youth
by
an
aged
maiden
Aunt.
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