Equinox I (04).pdf
Equinox I (04).pdf Equinox I (04).pdf
28 THE EQUINOX I THE JUGGLER “AND he well deserves it!” “Oh! it must have been ripping. I do wish I had been there; ... the horse-whip, and the monkey. He is such a silly fellow, poor ‘cheval hongre!’ ” “Ah, yes! the new nickname.” “Don't you think that it fits him?” “Oh, yes.” The silent man of the party moved uneasily in his armchair. He was slow of cogitation. “Like the waistcoat of the late Nessus fitted Hercules, eh, what?” he suggested. “A fool!” “Hercules?” “No, Lionel . . . and, er . . . yes, Hercules also. Tabard reminds me of that Bible chap.” “Potiphar’s Joseph!” the silent man exclaimed triumphantly. “Wrong again, Bernard. I meant Mary's Joseph.” The silent man threw his cigar over the fender. II LA PAPESSE LIONEL TABARD had been horse-whipped by a woman; he had received—or taken—no compensation. This I attribute to his mother. One reads many tales, the paper thereof being
MY LADY OF THE BREECHES damnably wasted; in most of these, mothers are all authormade angels—sweet, loving, kind, forbearing, forgiving creatures, who feel the responsibility they undertook when they called upon a part of the spiritual world to come down among us. Of course, such mothers are the ideal mothers of a perfect human race, and the authors may consider themselves justified. Nevertheless, let us be true in this one history, and acknowledge the fact that some mothers are a thoroughly bad lot. They are mostly to be found among the well-to-do people, I suppose—and I do not wonder. When I see a mother smiling upon her grown-up son, I feel very sad. I remember my own parent . . . There! I called this a history—with a vengeance. You have it. Now for a lesson in psychology. Lionel's mother was queen and “regente” of bad parents. She was clever, but void of reasoning powers; inclined to religious mania, her immediate neighbourhood was crowded with foul larvae. In a legal and womanly manner she had despatched her first husband to the night of a Sanatorium and thence to an early grave. She had suffered badly at the hands of her second. This we may take a being the coarsest form of that automatic justice, which is dealt only to the coarsest natures. It had not, however, extirpated an iota of her fund of self-esteem and lust for authority. To the latter, Lionel had often fallen a victim. he was born bright and happy; the Houses had done well by him. His mother gradually turned him into a self-concentrated, self-conscious, frightened and deceitful youth. She had mentally emasculated him; and, in his fits of understanding, he cursed her with no mean-spirited lips. He never forgave her the death of his 29
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MY LADY OF THE BREECHES<br />
damnably wasted; in most of these, mothers are all authormade<br />
angels—sweet, loving, kind, forbearing, forgiving<br />
creatures, who feel the responsibility they undertook when<br />
they called upon a part of the spiritual world to come down<br />
among us. Of course, such mothers are the ideal mothers of a<br />
perfect human race, and the authors may consider themselves<br />
justified. Nevertheless, let us be true in this one history, and<br />
acknowledge the fact that some mothers are a thoroughly bad<br />
lot. They are mostly to be found among the well-to-do<br />
people, I suppose—and I do not wonder. When I see a mother<br />
smiling upon her grown-up son, I feel very sad. I remember<br />
my own parent . . .<br />
There! I called this a history—with a vengeance. You<br />
have it. Now for a lesson in psychology.<br />
Lionel's mother was queen and “regente” of bad parents.<br />
She was clever, but void of reasoning powers; inclined to<br />
religious mania, her immediate neighbourhood was crowded<br />
with foul larvae. In a legal and womanly manner she had<br />
despatched her first husband to the night of a Sanatorium and<br />
thence to an early grave. She had suffered badly at the hands<br />
of her second. This we may take a being the coarsest form of<br />
that automatic justice, which is dealt only to the<br />
coarsest natures. It had not, however, extirpated an iota of<br />
her fund of self-esteem and lust for authority. To the latter,<br />
Lionel had often fallen a victim. he was born bright and<br />
happy; the Houses had done well by him. His mother<br />
gradually turned him into a self-concentrated, self-conscious,<br />
frightened and deceitful youth. She had mentally emasculated<br />
him; and, in his fits of understanding, he cursed her with no<br />
mean-spirited lips. He never forgave her the death of his<br />
29