The Quiet Corner
THE QUIET CORNER / counsel thee, shut not thy heart nor thy library.—C. Lamb. The skies were grey and rainy, and in spite of the flutter of Christmas cards, revealing scenes of turkey, goose and...
...Surprised at the change from his cheerful mood, the others looked round, to find him regarding disconsolately a pair of red satin dancing slippers, size 2-A, evidently intended as an adjunct to his costume...
...Maynard's 'ox and stag and boar' diet—where does he get it...
...I'll not be gloomy any more— Fm glad I'm not a Baptist or A Turk or Manichee.' " "A jovial song, in sooth, Primus," said Hereticus, with less than his customary reservation...
...What, ho, Doctor," he shouted, "not down-'earted, are we —these 'appy days...
...We might as well hear them," sighed Angelicus patiently...
...The skies were grey and rainy, and in spite of the flutter of Christmas cards, revealing scenes of turkey, goose and plum pudding, and green pine woods bending under their virgin snows, Doctor Angelicus sat gloomily at his desk and heard the Christmas trains grinding off into the distant outlands, bearing the office boys and girls back to their village home-week...
...I know I'll never match in style With such a foolish, forward, flirting maid.'" "I'm glad you are reading poetry," said Britannicus, who had entered as Angelicus was finishing the last stanza, "for I have just completed some Yule verses myself...
...Country cousins—the sort we know, Squabble and fight 'neath the mistletoe...
...Thank your stars, when the day is o'er...
...Noel, Noel...
...letter-men growl...
...Hall-boy, janitor, women who sweep...
...demanded Angelicus...
...he murmured as he thrust the Yuletide equipment aside...
...The Doctor winced...
...My customary food departs To gladden misbelieving hearts That do not fast with me...
...Can't squeeze into Ye Old Yule Shoppe...
...What now...
...Hereticus entered and laid down a heavy bundle which burst open, disclosing a complete Santa Claus costume which he was to wear when enacting that role at a Christmas party...
...Oh, not necessarily," said Britannicus, modestly...
...But not a Methodist may sit And drink his wine with me...
...Cold winds rattle the chimney cowl...
...Louis Quinze...
...The ox, the stag, the boar shall make Christmas more merry for their sake, And even Friday sweet...
...When Christmas comes on Friday With holy zealjfr eat, Bound by no ever-irksome fast, My doublet full of meat...
...I thought the blamed things looked a tight fit...
...Well, well, well, we've done it before...
...Christmas takes me this way every year...
...Perhaps his ideas will cheer the Doctor up— " 'A dismal day is Friday...
...growled Hereticus...
...Optimist...
...Well, it cans my show, anyhow...
...A poem entitled Moonocholy— " 'One night I thought I heard the moon pass by And bending low, to whisper in my ear...
...On Friday, as at Christmas, My flowing bowl is free...
...I confess to ignorance regarding the dietary of the Manichees, but I shall look up some of the Albigensian table d'hotes during the winter season...
...It's fifty weeks—and a little more— To Christmas...
...Really, Mr...
...And seen green dragons rear their manes where dragon there was none, I've drunk the heady wine of life with rascal, rogue, and rake, But, heaven be praised, I've never dined on a vegetarian steak.1 '* Here the door opened and the Editor entered the library with a yellow manuscript which he sadly laid on the table...
...More verses—and the guilty bard in Don C Seitz...
...Begging letters, a gruesome heap...
...Twenty bucks—if you get off cheap— It's Christmas...
...Water freezes and pipes go pop...
...I feel like somebody waiting for the train to start...
...This discussion," said Hereticus, "suggests a recently published verse by M. J. MacManus, caricaturing Chesterton— " Tve danced beneath the sign of the cock when Fleet Street's night was done...
...Once I hear the bells for midnight Mass, I shall feel better...
...I am so lonely up here in the sky Where flaming Mars keeps me in dreadful fear— Then there's that Venus, winking all the while At me, so cold and pale, and so afraid...
...Turkey, cold, instead of your chopIt's Christmas...
...Listen to this poem, gentlemen," he said, "and learn how that brave Englishman, Theodore Maynard, faces the holidays this year, rejoicing like a real Catholic over a dispensation...
...On Friday I would be A Baptist or a Methodist, A Turk or Manichee...
...I insist," said Miss Brynmarian and Miss Anonymoncule in a breath, so Britannicus began— "Waiters chuckle...
...Two in the morning, before they go— It's Christmas...
...Yes, Hereticus, my heart is down in my boots...
...Seitz, isn't this too much...
...As for Mr...
...Primus Criticus entered with a manuscript...
...the carolers howl— It's Christmas...
...This might do for our poetry page," he said, as he vanished like Hamlet in one of the earlier acts...
...Doctor Angelicus, gradually overcoming his melancholy, remarked—"We shall have turkey or goose on that day—not that I wish to cast any aspersions upon the Methodist gruel, the Baptist baked beans or the Turkish kous-kous...
...He had been cultivating for several days the style of Merry Old England to the evident pain of Angelicus...
...But some of us will confine ourselves (on principle) to cider as usual...
...The Librarian...
Vol. 3 • December 1925 • No. 7
