Ulysses shrugged his trunk with easy indifference, raised his eye glass, and began to read. I lay some distance away, dozing in my hammock, and awaited results. They were not long in coming.
At the end of about half an hour he trumpeted to me in an indignant tone of voice, and inquired on the blackboard whether I had given him the original English or some kind of a translation.
I answered this satisfactorily, and for more than an hour he toiled away, breathing hard at times and swaying from side to side, whenever he thought he was about to find a clew.
Presently he called to me again.
“I forgot to ask,” said he, “whether this was to be read backwards or sideways.”
“Straight ahead,” I answered.
I saw that he was getting involved in the toils, and knew that they would soon close on him. It must be remembered that I had never deceived Ulysses, and the thought that I, or any one else, could feign an opinion which was not genuine, had never occurred to him. The book had been submitted to him about the middle of the morning. Ulysses took no refreshment that day, neither water nor food. When I came out of the house after “tiffin,” I advised him to lay the volume aside, and look at it again the next day. He seemed to feel that this would be a confession of failure, and refused.
“Tell me,” he wrote, “are there many of your species that understand and really enjoy this book?”
“They are not many in number,” I answered; “but their position in the society of culture and taste is an exalted one. Within the last few years it has come to pass that the understanding and appreciation of this work is a shibboleth by which the true disciples of sweetness and light may distinguish themselves from the miscellaneous herd of Philistines. Do not be discouraged because you have failed,” I added, in a kindly, patronizing tone. “There are many estimable mortals in the same situation. You understand, however, that you cannot be admitted to the elect, much less claim superiority to myself.”
Ulysses wrote upon the blackboard several profane expressions, which I suppose he had learned from Briggs, and resumed his study.