Buddha was a low, worldly minded, music-hall comic
singer in comparison. He sat like this for a long time until . . .
and he made a noise like cows coming home to be milked on an April
evening.
The Two Barristers at Ypres
When Gogin and I were taking our Easter holiday this year we went,
among other places, to Ypres. We put up at the Hotel Tete d'Or and
found it exquisitely clean, comfortable and cheap, with a charming
old-world, last-century feeling. It was Good Friday, and we were to
dine maigre; this was so clearly de rigueur that we did not venture
even the feeblest protest.
When we came down to dinner we were told that there were two other
gentlemen, also English, who were to dine with us, and in due course
they appeared--the one a man verging towards fifty-eight, a kind of
cross between Cardinal Manning and the late Mr. John Parry, the other
some ten years younger, amiable-looking and, I should say, not so
shining a light in his own sphere as his companion. These two sat on
one side of the table and we opposite them. There was an air about
them both which said: "You are not to try to get into conversation
with us; we shall not let you if you do; we dare say you are very
good sort of people, but we have nothing in common; so long as you
keep quiet we will not hurt you; but if you so much as ask us to pass
the melted butter we will shoot you.
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