I was flung into a lift; whirled aloft; flung out. I rose from my hands and knees, and found myself in the presence of a small boy wearing the ribbons of every known and unknown order. “Sign please,” he demanded. I found my cheque-book open on the desk. I signed. I saved myself by catching the basement landing. Five men followed bearing literature.
A New World
I opened the first pamphlet. My head swelled immediately. Development had begun to commence starting already. I wrote a letter to the Daily Whale. It was not published. I knew myself upon the path to greatness. My horizon was enlarged.
I discarded my glasses and led from a singleton. While shaving I invented a lock for motor-cars and a solution of the Irish Problem; I unravelled the Russian tangle and elaborated a new Tango; I designed a rat-proof barn and went to breakfast.
Amongst my Fellows
An enormous crowd at the Tube Station. I read one sentence from Pamphlet 2, and I was seated in the train; another sentence and the train started.
I called at the Bank of England, and informed a very gentlemanly young fellow that my income would soon be £5,000 a year by the Welmanometer. He was superficially interested, and I was conducted to the vaults. I was presented with a spade. I have not known an idle moment since.