AN ELECTION EPISODE

Dominion, Volume 11, Issue 126, 14 February 1918, Page 6

AN ELECTION EPISODE

THE GORGONZOLA AND THE DREAM (By "Wi.") Wo pay for our sins. Incidentally, sometimes, we pay for the sins oi others, hut that is by the way. This concerns some Gorgonzola and a lady. It was I who ate the Gorgonzola, and it was Morpheus and the Gorgonzola who arranged about the lady. Having oaten the Gorgonzola, I went to bed and tried to forget itr-thc Gorgonzola, you know. 1 stared at the ceiling till the patterns on the curtains began to turn into gargoyles and wrigglies. Then I switched off the light, and * * * * I was lying on the window lounge, smoking a cigarette, when Weeks glided mto tho room—was wafted, 1 should say. I shall be interested to hear what sort of a bird they make of Weeks when he is reincarnated. He never walks, as wo understand that system of locomotion. . Ho, as it were, appears, as if some unseen presence in the room had apported him from another place. I looked up. Weeks coughed discreetly, apologetically, and presented the salver. j frowned. "Let's see, Weeks," 1 said. "Roughly speaking, this is about the fiftieth time I shall have had to mention to you, endeavour to imprint permaneiitlv, indelibly, on your brain, tho fact that I—will—not—sec--any-body—in—the—morning. That so?" "'iies, sir," said AVecks. "Now go away." "Ikg pardon, sir," said Weeks, nervously, "but it's—it's—a lady." "That* settles it," I said, definitely. "It's quite impossible, Weeks, and you know it. Go and get rid of her." "I've tried to, sir," said Weeks, "but she insists." : "Why tho devil didn't you say I was in Europe, or somewhere?" I asked, : fretfully. "That's what you're here for, isn't it " ; "I did, sir," said Weeks, "but she i saw you at the window.'' I "And found the attraction irrcsis- ! tible, I suppose? Who is she?" ; j Weeks again presented the salver. 11 i picked up "the card and read the name, j ! "The deuce!" I exclaimed. "You've j i managed to make a pretty averago mess of it this time, Weeks. We're in the cart." "I hope not, sir," said Weeks, with respectful solicitude. "Humph," I said. "Well, you'd better bring her in, now you've done it," V. Presently I was confronted by my visitor. "Good morning," I said, amiably. I "We havjn't exactly met before, but —or—" I stopped. ' "Quito' so," said sho. "That is what I want to see you about." , She j seemed to be rather an implacable being. I wondered whether Weeks was handy. "Won't you sit down?" I said. "Thank you," she said, briefly. Sho sat down, and regarded me fixedly. "I wondered what you were like," she said. "Well," I said, ' with cheerful i bravado, "a fellow doesn't look his best in the morning, you know." "That is not what I meant," she said, severely. "What 1 meant was " "Pardon me," I interrupted.' "Before you go on—may I smoke?" There is something chummy and sustaining about a cigarette in a crisis. She said I might. I lit up with more gratitude than I really expressed. "You read my letter, I suppose?" she began. "I—or—did," I said. "If I remember rightly, you were curious about my personal standing and intellectual probity—or was it my intellectual standing; and personal probity?" "Either or both," she said, acidly. "You see," I went on, "I wouldn't like the Countess to get a wrong impression of me. I may be an idiot, for all I know. I've never been examined." "I didn't come hero to he trifled with," she said. "Not at all," I said. "I'm perfectly serious. -You see, lots of idiots get along comfortably', and nobody twigs them. You never can tell. Even doctors can't agree sometimes on the question: 'When is an idiot?'" "Which is quite beside the point," she said. "What I want to ask you is this: 'Can von justify your attack on Mr. Holland?'" "Let's see, now," I said. "It was poisonous squibs I used, wasn't it?" "That is what I call it," she said bridling. "And there was a bit of an ambush, a sort of veil of anonymity, too, wasn't there?"' "When I write anything I put my name to it," she said. "Bully for you," I said, cordially. "Why don't you?" she demanded. "Well," I said, "the fact is, I'm doing a bit of camouflage—zebra stripes, spots, and green triangles, like some chaps see when they've got the willy-walloos. All the rage.i you know. They paint steamers like that. Great stunt. I've just been wondering whether I couldn't camouflage mysslf in some way so that my creditors wouldn't know me." She looked at me as if she would have liked to hit me with' her umbrella. For the second time I wondered where Weeks was. . "Do you deny," she went on, ' that you are a poor, forlorn, underpaid starveling, existing on a kind of literary prostitution? Do you deny that?" •' "I never attempt to deny anything, or explain anything, to a woman,"'! said, spreading out my hands with a hopeless gesture. "Why did you attack Mr. Holland?" sho again demanded. "Well," I said, "to begin with, I didn't attack him. I reminded the public that Mr. Holland had a past. _ I didn't mean anything to do with him personally, or with bio private life. No hitting below the belt. Mr. Holland is a candidate for Parliament. In my opinion a candidate for Parliament should be tested by his public actions. Mr. Holland is prominent in the Labour movement. 1 have nothing against the Labour movement. I'm a wageearner myself-W poor, forlorn, underpaid starveling,' you said. If Labour doesn't work out its own salvation nobody else will. And everybody wants to see Labour working out its own salvation, but in a sane way. Not in the way, Holland, Fraser, Young, and company would have it—with a bludgeon, so to speak. I know personally men in the Labour movement here that I'm proud to meet. Their wavs arc not the ways of Holland, Fraser, Young, and company. Mr. Holland's actions during the big strike settle his candidature so far as I'm concerned. In that strike the Red Feds tried to bludgeon the country into submission by'an outbreak which, had it not been kept m hand with commendable promptitude and firmness, would have brought chaos and anarchv in its train. Men who take a hand in that sort of, thing, in inv opinion, arc not fit to sit in larliamont. That's all I have to say about Mr. Holland." The lady iumned to her foot, waved her umbrella about her head, came striding towards me, and then—and then „ „ * * * * I woke up.