The Quiet Corner
559 THE QUIET CORNER I counsel thee, shut not thy heart nor thy library.—C. Lamb. "There is something ominous," said Euphemia, raising her eyes from a manuscript and looking nervously around,...
...Too often have sounds of discord reached me in my inner sanctum...
...We've been here for two hours, and there hasn't been an argument yet...
...inquired the Editor meekly, wiping off the spots that had splattered on his coat...
...But it can't last...
...Nothing," said Angelicus meekly, with his hand on the knob...
...Angelicus, waving his arms in wrath, bore down upon them, to be followed by a somewhat shamefaced Primus Criticus...
...No," agreed Primus Criticus hastily...
...That's true," remarked Britannicus, putting aside his book...
...Perhaps not," admitted Criticus, "but you may be sure I had some justification...
...Wait...
...And as for us," exclaimed Euphemia, taking a blotter to her face, "you just didn't care...
...So I determined what was needed here among you children was the presence of poise and dignity—et me voila...
...inquired the Editor, reprovingly eyeing the shattered bottle...
...expostulated the Doctor...
...The ink characters had completely disappeared in the night...
...Raucous laughter, angry words, and—I dislike even to voice the suspicion—sometimes what sounded strangely like flying books—have come to me over the open transom...
...This morning, on awakening, I hurried to my desk to read over, and rejoice in, the sonnet I had written the night before...
...If I weren't a mild-mannered man, I should have flung it at your head...
...There," cried the Doctor, pointing dramatically to the puddles of black, "that much for your ink, Primus Criticus...
...Exactly," went on the Doctor, "whereupon you drifted suddenly from a tone of bitter acrimony to one of honeyed compliment...
...Angelicus had been edging nearer and nearer the door...
...exclaimed the Doctor...
...He further declared that he would make me a gift of some extraordinarily fine imported ink which he had, and which he claimed was of such a superior quality that it was the only ink quite suitable for the transcribing of my sonnets...
...I shall explain myself...
...At this precise moment there was a sound of scuffling at the door, which was flung abruptly open, and a large bottle of ink came hurtling dangerously near the Editor's head, crashing noisily to the floor...
...During this discourse, Dr...
...Innocent joke...
...encouraged the Editor...
...What do you mean ?" inquired Britannicus...
...He said that the play was of such an arresting character that I was the only critic in New York capable of reviewing it adequately...
...You haven't heard the crowning insult he perpetrated...
...Having invited my friend, there was nothing to do but to go to another theatre, and pay an exorbitant price for the only two seats that remained unsold at that late hour...
...We arrived at the theatre—to find it in total darkness, and on inquiry ascertained that the play had closed the previous evening...
...And," went on the Doctor, "I was arguing for my well-known conviction that all original poetry should be written in longhand and ink, and not pounded out on a typewriter...
...There, there," said the Editor, soothingly, "tell us about it, and then you'll feel better...
...demanded the Editor...
...Let me explain—" "You'll do no such thing," exploded the Doctor...
...Not long ago the Doctor handed me a pass to a certain recently-produced play, together with unctuous compliments on the quality of my dramatic criticism...
...I'm sorry," apologized the Doctor...
...Now that wasn't exactly kind," remonstrated the Editor...
...I came in like a lion, and," said he as he vanished, "I go out like a lamb...
...As the dark fluid spread in a pool about the feet of the inmates, Dr...
...Ah," said the Editor, who had been looking over a book of essays, "I have been successful then...
...There won't be any bill," replied Angelicus savagely...
...And I," explained Criticus, "maintained, with reason, I am sure, that such a notion was mere old-fashioned fogyism...
...Criticus," resumed the Doctor, "began to compliment me highly on my—er—flair for turning a sonnet...
...I'm like March...
...I have been the recipient of a subtle and damaging insult, and I insist on putting my case before the others...
...Which was...
...What have you to say...
...There is something ominous," said Euphemia, raising her eyes from a manuscript and looking nervously around, "there is something ominous about the peace that seems to have settled on this library...
...It's an unnatural calm...
...560...
...That was a dangerous beginning," admitted the Editor...
...Just a little innocent joke," explained Primus Criticus...
...My dear Britannicus, I have long deplored the contentious spirit that too frequently seems to manifest itself in this library...
...For my part, in perfectly good faith, I accepted the bottle graciously and took it home, where it was my intention to pen a very fine sonnet that has been in my head for some time...
...And that is how you treated his gift...
...When you said it was the only ink in which my sonnets should be written...
...I carefully selected this piece of fair paper which you see before me, and inscribed on it an octave and a sestet, which I am convinced were of incomparable beauty...
...Moreover, I discovered later that the Doctor had advance information regarding the closing of that play...
...Well," said Angelicus, quieting down a little, "Primus Criticus and I got to talking poetry the other day...
...I didn't know you were here...
...I accepted the pass with pleasure, and on the evening appointed, I invited a friend to accompany me...
...But what was my horror, gentlemen, to find facing me a perfectly blank piece of paper...
...The Librarian...
...Had I been a less honest and unsuspicious person, I might have known your dark and sinister mind was plotting something heinous...
...My intellectual labor finished, I flung myself on my couch for my night's repose...
...He said he agreed with me that my sonnets, at least, should be written in ink...
...You've been like a soothing syrup," agreed Euphemia...
...But why pick on me...
...I have a premonition that a storm is about to break...
...I'll direct my dry-cleaner to send you the bill," said Britannicus, glancing woefully at his waistcoat...
Vol. 5 • March 1927 • No. 20
