And at another time a
baby came through in the arms of one who held it close so that it was
not conscious of the transition. Sometimes I am glad to believe that
death is no more than the swinging door which divides two apartments in
a mighty mansion, and that our going through is no more than the
exchange of a cold and unlighted hallway for a spacious living-room
where all is light and warmth and blessed activity.
LVIII.
EATING MILK TOAST WITH A SPOON!
Eating milk toast with a spoon and stopping between each mouthful to
swear! That was what I saw and heard a brawny man doing not long since
in a popular down-town restaurant. The action and the manner of speech
did not harmonize. If I felt it borne in upon me that I must be a
profane fellow to prove my manliness, I would choose another diet than
spoon victuals to nourish my formidable zest for naughtiness. Rare
beef or wild game would be less incongruous. There are times when a
man may be excused for using objectionable language. Stress of
righteous indignation, seasons of personal conflict with hansom cabmen,
large-headed street car conductors, ubiquitous, never-dying
expectorators and many other particular forms of torment may make a man
swear a bit now and then, but what shall we say of a bearded creature
with the dew of a babe's food upon his chin who rends the placid air
with unnecessary cursing? Sew up his lips with a surgeon's needle and
throw him into the fool-killer's bag!
LIX.
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