A Casual Conversation.
♦ "I'm a fool," he said, suddenly, and in dogged matter-of-fact tones, as if tho statement admitted of no question. He said it just as one might say that tho world is round, or that water is wet. He was a little man of middle age, clad comfortably in a loose tweed suit, and, in the words of the Latin primer, "of an open and ingenuous countenance." We were the only passengers in an otherwise empty midday tram, that was making its way along the Parra-matta-road to tho suburbs beyond. The remark was apparently addressed to the universe in general, rather than to me in particular, and though I was startled, I remembered my manners, and affected not to have heard. "I'm a fool," he repeated ; and this time he leant far forward from the opposite seat, and waited expectantly. Clearly, -ho was looking for an answer. "Indeed," I said, rather weakly. But, really, what -olse could I say? At any rate, the reply had s the double merit of being at once politic and polite. "Yes, I am," he pursued, aggressively, as if challenging me to deny it. Instinctively, I glanced at his face for signs of incipient insanity, but, to a layman, there was no evidence there of mental irregularity. Nor did it appear that he had been drinking. . "I suppose," I answered, airily, "that, •when one comes to think of it, we are all of us fools more pt less." "No doubt we are," he retorted. "Some are fools, and others are — well, fools of another sort. You know the saying? I'm one of the other sort. I'm a Fool with a capital letter \/ a Fool'" with an adjective in front, if you like." I neither liked nor disliked, and for the moment I held my peace. The position was unprecedented within my experience, and the fact was that I did no# know what to say. "I'm afraid I'll never learn anything," he said, "and never unlearn anything. The wise man," he went on sentontiously, "spends his years of maturity in un- 1 learning what he has labouriously learnt in youth." Surely, he was a most extraordinary person, and though, of course, he was talking amazing nonsense, I was getting interested. So, as ho seemed to be a harmless kind of lunatic after all — I had by now made up my mind that, in •pite of appearance, ho was hardly sane —1 -resolvod to humour him. I had read in many books that that was tho right thitfg to do. "Your're a bit of a philosopher," I suggested, suavely. "I'm not a philosopher at all — I'm a plain fool, with tho unusual and extenuating ciroumstance that I know it." "Fool," I observed, "is merely a< relative and arbitrary term. Ideas and standards are constantly altering, and the fools of to-day are often' the wise men of to-morrow." I said this, not because I believed it, or because I thought it striking or original, but because it appeared to be a soothing thing. "May I ask you to tell me the time?" he said, changing the subject abruptly. I looked at my watch, and told; him. "There's another example of my foolishness. I've got an important appointment that may mean much to mo, and I'm already a quarter of an hour late." "But nobody nowadays ever thfnks of keeping an appointment up to time," I rejoined, still determined to humour him. "Perhaps not,", he replied, meditatively; "perhaps not. Doesn't that big building strike you as top-heavy?" he asked of a sudden, tapping me lightly on the shoulder, and then waving a hand in the direction of a factory that we were passing. "What an unholy smash it would come in a 'Frisco earthquake! Looks as if a, puff of wind would Wow it over, doesn't it.?- Just see how the top story overhangs." I examined the frontage of tho budding as wo swept past, and then, twisting my neck, I had. a look at it from another angle, as it receded in the distance. But I could see nothing -wrong. The trouble, I was satisfied, was in my companion's own top-story, and 1 felt that it was a pity that a decent fellow should bo so sadly afflicted. As it waa, I told him gently that I could not agree with his criticism. "Maybe you Y e' right," he said, "and maybe you're wrong.. I'd like to talk it out with you, but that will have to wait till another time, This is my corner, and, if I'm going to keep that appointment, I'll have to be pretty quick off- tho mark."' Tho tram was now slowing down near a network of mean streets, and he swung himself on to tho footboard. "The guard hasn't fioen round collecting fares," he proceeded, putting his hand in his p'ockct, "and if yon don't mind, I'll get you to pay. this penny for me. Somo people don't see any harm in defrauding tho Government, but it seems to me to be as immoral to rob the Government as to rob an individual. It's a subtle distinction, top subtle for me, but" — ho explained with a grim chuckle, the signflcance of which I did not understand till afterwards — "perhaps that is because I'm a fool. . Well, good-day.,' I'vo enjoyed a most interesting and profitable conversation, and' l hope wo shall meet again.' 1 I, too, hope that wo shall, for, as I presently discovered, with him ,went my watch and tho greater part of my chain."-8..p. ( Lxne w tho Sydney
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Bibliographic details
Evening Post, Volume LXXIII, Issue 28, 2 February 1907, Page 10
Word Count
930A Casual Conversation. Evening Post, Volume LXXIII, Issue 28, 2 February 1907, Page 10
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