had burst its bodice； and
You are right； it is too true！ but how I love these pretty
phrases！ I am afraid I am becoming an epicure in words； which is a
bad thing to be； unless it is dominated by something infinitely
better than itself。 But there is a fascination in the mere sound of
articulated breath； of consonants that resist with the firmness of a
maid of honor； or half or wholly yield to the wooing lips； of vowels
that flow and murmur； each after its kind； the peremptory b and p；
the brittle k； the vibrating r； the insinuating s； the feathery f；
the velvety v； the bell…voiced m； the tranquil broad a； the
penetrating e； the cooing u； the emotional o； and the beautiful
combinations of alternate rock and stream； as it were； that they give
to the rippling flow of speech；there is a fascination in the
skilful handling of these； which the great poets and even prose…
writers have not disdained to acknowledge and use to recommend their
thought。 What do you say to this line of Homer as a piece of
poetical full…band music？ I know you read the Greek characters with
perfect ease； but permit me； just for my own satisfaction； to put it
into English letters：
Aigle pamphanoosa di' aitheros ouranon ike！
as if he should have spoken in our poorer phrase of
Splendor far shining through ether to heaven ascending。
That Greek line； which I do not remember having heard mention of as
remarkable； has nearly every consonantal and vowel sound in the
language。 Try it by the Greek and by the English alphabet； it is a
curiosity。 Tell me that old Homer did not roll his sightless
eyeballs about with delight； as he thundered out these ringing
syllables！ It seems hard to think of his going round like a hand…
organ man； with such music and such thought as his to earn his bread
with。 One can't help wishing that Mr。 Pugh could have got at him for
a single lecture； at least； of the 〃Star Course；〃 or that he could
have appeared in the Music Hall； 〃for this night only。〃
I know I have rambled； but I hope you see that this is a delicate
way of letting you into the nature of the individual who is；
officially； the principal personage at our table。 It would hardly do
to describe him directly； you know。 But you must not think； because
the lightning zigzags； it does not know where to strike。
I shall try to go through the rest of my description of our boarders
with as little of digression as is consistent with my nature。 I
think we have a somewhat exceptional company。 Since our Landlady has
got up in the world； her board has been decidedly a favorite with
persons a little above the average in point of intelligence and
education。 In fact； ever since a boarder of hers； not wholly unknown
to the reading public； brought her establishment into notice； it has
attracted a considerable number of literary and scientific people；
and now and then a politician； like the Member of the House of
Representatives； otherwise called the Great and General Court of the
State of Massachusetts。 The consequence is； that there is more
individuality of character than in a good many similar
boardinghouses； where all are business…men； engrossed in the same
pursuit of money…making； or all are engaged in politics； and so
deeply occupied with the welfare of the community that they can think
and talk of little else。
At my left hand sits as singular…looking a human being as I remember
seeing outside of a regular museum or tent…show。 His black coat
shines as if it had been polished； and it has been polished on the
wearer's back； no doubt； for the arms and other points of maximum
attrition are particularly smooth and bright。 Round shoulders；
stooping over some minute labor； I suppose。 Very slender limbs； with
bends like a grasshopper's； sits a great deal； I presume； looks as if
he might straighten them out all of a sudden； and jump instead of
walking。 Wears goggles very commonly； says it rests his eyes； which
he strains in looking at very small objects。 Voice has a dry creak；
as if made by some small piece of mechanism that wanted oiling。 I
don't think he is a botanist； for he does not smell of dried herbs；
but carries a camphorated atmosphere about with him； as if to keep
the moths from attacking him。 I must find out what is his particular
interest。 One ought to know something about his immediate neighbors
at the table。 This is what I said to myself； before opening a
conversation with him。 Everybody in our ward of the city was in a
great stir about a certain election； and I thought I might as well
begin with that as anything。
How do you think the vote is likely to go tomorrow？I said。
It isn't to…morrow；he answered；it 's next month。
Next month！said I。…Why； what election do you mean？
I mean the election to the Presidency of the Entomological Society；
sir；he creaked； with an air of surprise； as if nobody could by any
possibility have been thinking of any other。 Great competition； sir；
between the dipterists and the lepidopterists as to which shall get
in their candidate。 Several close ballotings already； adjourned for
a fortnight。 Poor concerns； both of 'em。 Wait till our turn comes。
I suppose you are an entomologist？I said with a note of
interrogation。
…Not quite so ambitious as that； sir。 I should like to put my eyes
on the individual entitled to that name！ A society may call itself
an Entomological Society； but the man who arrogates such a broad
title as that to himself； in the present state of science； is a
pretender； sir； a dilettante； an impostor！ No man can be truly
called an entomologist； sir； the subject is too vast for any single
human intelligence to grasp。
May I venture to ask；I said； a little awed by his statement and
manner；what is your special province of study？
I am often spoken of as a Coleopterist；he said；but I have no
right to so comprehensive a name。 The genus Scarabaeus is what I
have chiefly confined myself to； and ought to have studied
exclusively。 The beetles proper ；are quite enough for the labor of
one man's life。 Call me a Scarabaeist if you will； if I can prove
myself worthy of that name； my highest ambition will be more than
satisfied。
I think； by way of compromise and convenience； I shall call him the
Scarabee。 He has come to look wonderfully like those creatures；the
beetles； I mean；…by being so much among them。 His room is hung
round with cases of them； each impaled on a pin driven through him；
something as they used to bury suicides。 These cases take the place
for him of pictures and all other ornaments。 That Boy steals into
his room sometimes； and stares at them with great admiration； and has
himself undertaken to form a rival cabinet； chiefly consisting of
flies； so far； arranged in ranks superintended by an occasional
spider。
The old Master； who is a bachelor； has a kindly feeling for this
little monkey； and those of his kind。
I like children；he said to me one day at table；I like 'em； and
I respect 'em。 Pretty much all the honest truth…telling there is in
the world is done by them。 Do you know they play the part in the
household which the king's jester； who very often had a mighty long
head under his cap and bells； used to play for a monarch？ There 's
no radical club like a nest of little folks in a nursery。 Did you
ever watch a baby's fingers？ I have； often enough； though I never
knew what it was to own one。…The Master paused half a minute or
so；sighed；perhaps at thinking what he had missed in life；looked
up at me a little vacantly。 I saw what was the matter； he had lost
the thread of his talk。
Baby's fingers；I intercalated。
…Yes； yes； did you ever see how they will poke those wonderful little
fingers of theirs into every fold and crack and crevice they can get
at？ That is their first education； feeling their way into the solid
facts of the material world。 When they begin to talk it is the same
thing over again in another shape。 If there is a crack or a flaw in
your answer to their confounded shoulder…hitting questions； they will
poke and poke until they have got it gaping just as the baby's
fingers have made a rent out of that atom of a hole in his pinafore
that your old eyes never took notice of。 Then they make such fools
of us by copying on a small scale what we do in the grand manner。 I
wonder if it ever occurs to our dried…up neighbor there to ask
himself whether That Boy's collection of flies is n't about as
significant in the Order of Things as his own Museum of Beetles？
I couldn't help thinking that perhaps That Boy's questions about
the simpler mysteries of life might have a good deal of the same kind
of significance as the Master's inquiries into the Order of Things。
On my left； beyond my next neighbor the Scarabee； at the end of the
table； sits a person of whom we know little； except that he carries
about him more palpable reminiscences of tobacco and the allied
sources of comfort than a very sensitive organization might find
acceptable。 The Master does not seem to like him much； for some
reason or other；perhaps he has a special aversion to the odor of
tobacco。 As his forefinger shows a little too distinctly that