In these ways Mr. Stanley and the Professor kept up the conversation until I and the rest of the company were perfectly involved in dense mists and fogs, wishing that the sun of simple truth would shine, to bring us into clear seeing and firm foot-standing. We longed for the day without a cloud. At last they ceased, and after a brief interval we found ourselves where we were before they began, with no more knowledge of the mystical, and no less love to the simplicity of truth spoken in words of plain meaning and thoughts of undisguised transparency.
XIX. The Wonderer.—This is a talker with whom one very often meets in the walks of life. His peculiarity in conversation is the use of the word wonder in almost every statement he makes and question he asks. It is a strange peculiarity, and I wonder that he should so frequently indulge in its use; I wonder that he does not discover some other mode of expression.
I once met with him at a railway station, and after wishing him the compliments of the day, almost his first word was, “I wonder how long my train will be before it starts?” Scarcely had he time to get his breath, when he said, “I wonder what o’clock it is.” I looked at my watch and told him. Instantly he said, “I wonder whether it rains; I hope not.” I assured him that it did not when I came on the platform; then he quickly said, “I wonder whether it will rain to-morrow; I hope not, for I have a long journey to take by coach.”
I remember once travelling with a gentleman in a railway carriage between London and Bristol. Besides him and me there were three or four more passengers in the compartment, ladies and gentlemen.
Scarcely had we left the Paddington station ere he began wondering.
“I wonder,” said he, “how fast this train goes.”
Oh, about forty miles an hour, I replied.
“I wonder, does this train stop at Reading?”
I think it does, I answered.
Then whispering in my ear, he said, “I wonder who that old gentleman is in yon corner of the carriage.”