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Literary Lapses
·
Stephen Leacock
96
It
was
a
toothpick.
Yielding
to
the
impulse
of
the
moment
I
pushed
him
under
the
wheels
of
a
trolley-car,
and
ran.
A
Lesson
in
Fiction
Suppose
that
in
the
opening
pages
of
the
modern
melodramatic
novel
you
find
some
such
situation
as
the
following,
in
which
is
depicted
the
terrific
combat
between
Gaspard
de
Vaux,
the
boy
lieutenant,
and
Hairy
Hank,
the
chief
of
the
Italian
banditti:
"The
inequality
of
the
contest
was
apparent.
With
a
mingled
yell
of
rage
and
contempt,
his
sword
brandished
above
his
head
and
his
dirk
between
his
teeth,
the
enormous
bandit
rushed
upon
his
intrepid
opponent.
De
Vaux
seemed
scarce
more
than
a
stripling,
but
he
stood
his
ground
and
faced
his
hitherto
invincible
assailant.
'Mong
Dieu,'
cried
De
Smythe,
'he
is
lost!'"
Question.
On
which
of
the
parties
to
the
above
contest
do
you
honestly
feel
inclined
to
put
your
money?
Answer.
On
De
Vaux.
He'll
win.
Hairy
Hank
will
force
him
down
to
one
knee
and
with
a
brutal
cry
of
"Har!
har!"
will
be
about
to
dirk
him,
when
De
Vaux
will
make
a
sudden
lunge
(one
he
had
learnt
at
home
out
of
a
book
of
lunges)
and--
Very
good.
You
have
answered
correctly.
Now,
suppose
you
find,
a
little
later
in
the
book,
that
the
killing
of
Hairy
Hank
has
compelled
De
Vaux
to
flee
from
his
native
land
to
the
East.
Are
you
not
fearful
for
his
safety
in
the
desert?
Answer.
Frankly,
I
am
not.
De
Vaux
is
all
right.
His
name
is
on
the
title
page,
and
you
can't
kill
him.
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