The Journal of a Disappointed Man

August 7. Two Adventures On a 'bus the other day a woman with a baby sat opposite, the baby bawled, and the woman at once began to unlace herself, exposing a large, red udder, which she swung into the baby's face. The infant, however, continued to cry and the woman said,-- "Come on, there's a good boy--if you don't, I shall give it to the gentleman opposite." Do I look ill-nourished? "'Arma virumque cano,'" a beggar said to me this morning in the High Street, "or as the boy said, 'Arms and the man with a dog,' mistaking the verb for the noun. Oh! yes, sir, I remember my Latin. Of course, I feel it's rather invidious my coming to you like this, but everything is absolutely 'non est' with me," and so on. "My dear sir," I answered expansively, "I am as poor as you are. You at least have seen better days you say--but I never have." He changed in a minute his cringeing manner and rejoined: "No, I shouldn't think you had," eyeing me critically and slinking off. Am I so shabby? August 8. By Jove! I hope I live! ... Why does an old crock like myself go on living? It causes me genuine amazement. I feel almost ashamed of myself because I am not yet dead seeing that so many of my full-blooded contemporaries have perished in this War. I am so grateful for being allowed to live so long that nothing that happens to me except death could upset me much. I should be happy in a coal mine.