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349
The Journal of a Disappointed Man
·
W. N. P. Barbellion
91
May
5.
At
R----.
Mugged
about
all
day.
Put
on
a
gramophone
record--then
crawled
up
into
a
corner
of
the
large,
empty
drawing
room
and
ate
my
heart
out.
Heart
has
a
bitter
taste--if
it's
your
own.
May
6.
Sat
in
the
"morning
room"
feeling
ill.
In
the
chair
opposite
sat
Aunt
Fanny,
aged
86,
knitting.
I
listened
to
the
click
of
her
needles,
while
out
in
the
garden
a
thrush
sang,
and
there
was
a
red
sunset.
May
8.
Before
I
left
R----,
A----
[My
brother]
had
written
to
Uncle
enclosing
my
doctor's
letter.
I
don't
know
the
details
except
that
Dr.
M----
emphasised
the
seriousness
and
yet
held
out
hope
that
two
months'
rest
would
allay
the
symptoms.
May
11.
At
Home
I
made
some
offensive
remark
to
H----
whom
I
met
in
the
street.
This
set
him
off.
"You
blighter,
I
hope
you
marry
a
loose
woman.
May
your
children
be
all
bandy-legged
and
squint-eyed,
may
your
teeth
drop
out,
and
your
toes
have
bunions,"
and
so
on
in
his
usual
lengthy
commination.
I
turned
to
the
third
man.
"Bob--this!--after
all
I've
done
for
that
young
man!
I
have
even
gone
out
of
my
Way
to
cultivate
in
him
a
taste
for
poetry--until
he
is
now,
in
fact,
quite
wrapped
up
in
it--indeed,
so
much
so,
that
for
a
time
he
was
nothing
but
a
brown
paper
parcel
labelled
Poetry."
H.
(doggedly):
"When
are
you
going
to
die?"
"That
Master
H----,"
I
answered
menacingly,
"is
on
the
knees
of
the
Gods."
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