The Journal of a Disappointed Man

"It makes me hate you like mad," I said to him to-day. "How can I confront these people with the naked truth?" R---- chuckled complacently. "If I deny your alleged supremacy, as I did this morning, or if suddenly, in a fit of spleen, I'm induced to declare that I loathe you (as I sometimes do)"--(more chuckles) "that your breath stinks, your eyes bulge, that you have swollen jugulars and a platter face: they will think I am either jealous or insincere.... To be your Echo tho'!--my God!" I spat. We then grinned at one another, and I, being bored, went to the lavatory and read the newspaper secure from interruption. Resignation In the Tube, a young widow came in and sat in front of me--pale-faced, grief-stricken, demure--a sort of "Thy Will be Done" look. The adaptability of human beings has something in it that seems horrible. It is dreadful to think how we have all accommodated ourselves to this War. Christian resignation is a feeble thing. Why won't this demure widow with a loud voice blaspheme against this iniquitous world that permits this iniquitous war? October 21. I myself (licking a stamp): "The taste of gum is really very nice." R.: "I hate it." I: "My dear fellow" (surprised and entreating), "envelope gum is simply delicious." R.: "I never lick stamps--it's dangerous--microbes." I: "I always do: I shall buy a bookful and go away to the seaside with them." R.: "Yes, you'll need to." (Laughter.) Thus gaily and jauntily we went on to discuss wines, whiskies, and Worthington's, and I rounded it up in a typical cock-eyed manner,--