orward to: the steady trot with every nerve alert, the ear
listening for the sudden stoppage of the music, the eye seeking with
artfulness the likeliest chair, the volcanic silence, the mad scramble.

The generals felt themselves fighting their battles over again, the
spinsters blushed and preened themselves, the bishops took interest in
proving that even the Church could be prompt of decision and swift of
movement. Before the week was out they were playing Puss-in-the-corner;
ladies feeling young again were archly beckoning to stout deans, to whom
were returning all the sensations of a curate. The swiftness with which
the gouty generals found they could still hobble surprised even
themselves.

Why are we so young?

But it is in the music-hall, as I have said, that I am most impressed
with the youthfulness of man. How delighted we are when the long man in
the little boy's hat, having asked his short brother a riddle, and before
he can find time to answer it, hits him over the stomach with an
umbrella! How we clap our hands and shout with glee! It isn't really
his stomach: it is a bolster tied round his waist--we know that; but
seeing the long man whack at that bolster with an umbrella gives us
almost as much joy as if the bolster were not there.

I laugh at the knockabout brothers, I confess, so long as they are on the
stage; but they do not convince me. Reflecting on the performance
afterwards, my dramatic sense revolts against the "plot." I cannot
accept the theory of their being brothers. The difference in size alone
is a strain upon my imagination. It is not probable that of two children
of the same parents one should measure six foot six, and the other five
foot four. Even allowing for a freak of nature, and accepting the fact
that they might be brothers, I do not believe they would remain so
inseparable. The short brother would have succeeded before now in losing
the long brother. Those continual bangings over the head and stomach
would have weakened whatever affection the short brother might originally
have felt towards his long relation. At least, he would insist upon the
umbrella being left at home.

"I will go for a walk with you," he might say, "I will stand stock still
with you in Trafalgar Square in the midst of the traffic while you ask me
silly riddles, but not if you persist in bringing with you that absurd
umbrella. You are too handy with it. Put it back in the rack before we
s