How some of the other dampened enthusiasts tided over their loss I can only guess; but this ardent one reminded me of the Shipwrecked Entomologist, and I placed him on a niche somewhere near that radiant soul.
And who was he?
Well, he was the curator of his own department in some Indian museum—I think at Calcutta—and when the time came for his holiday he took a passage for Japan on a little tramp steamer. Everything went well until a few hours out of Shanghai, when a typhoon began to blow with terrific force. The ship was driven on the coast of Korea, where she set about breaking up, and only with the greatest difficulty did the passengers and crew get to shore, bruised and saturated, without anything but their clothes and what their pockets could hold. Some lives were lost, but my man was saved.
It was a desolate part, with nothing but the poorest huts for shelter, dirty and verminous, so that the discomforts of the land were almost equal to the perils of the sea.
Naturally, on his return to Calcutta the curator was plied with questions. How did be feel about it? Wasn’t it an awful experience? If ever a man deserved sympathy it was he. And so forth. But he wouldn’t rise.
“Sympathy?” he said. “Good Heavens! I don’t want sympathy. Why, I had the time of my life. Do you know that during the night in that Korean hovel I found five absolutely new kinds of bug.”
E.V.L.
* * * * *
“Notice to the public,
that John ——, Toronto, will not be
responsible
for debts hereafter contracted
by any one.”—Canadian Paper.
Very sensible of him.
* * * * *
[Illustration: Subject to Revision.
British housewife. “Do you really Mean it?”
Miner. “Well, part of it, anyway.”]
* * * * *
[Illustration: Captain (to very unsuccessful lob bowler). “OI BE SORRY TO ’AVE TO TAKE ’EE OFF, GARGE, BUT I MUST LET THE VICAR ’AVE A GO BEFORE THE BALL GETS EGG-SHAPED.”]
* * * * *
SANTAMINGOES.
A FANCY.
[The santamingo is a kind
of Oriental bird believed by foolish sailor-
men to confer on its possessor
great content and peace of mind.]
East from the Mahanadi and north of the
Nicobar
You will come to Evening Island where
the santamingoes are;
Their wings are sunrise-orange and their
tails are starlight-blue;
You catch a santamingo and all your dreams
come true.
They’ve a crest of flaming scarlet
and a purple-golden breast,
And their voice is like all the music
that ever you liked the best,
And their eyes are like all the comfort
that ever you hoped to find;
You catch a santamingo and you’ll
get peace of mind.