GROTESQUES
Κυνηδόν
I
The Angel Æthereal, on his official visit to the Earth in 1947, paused between the Bank and the Stock Exchange to smoke a cigarette and scrutinise the passers-by.
"How they swarm," he said, "and with what seeming energy—in such an atmosphere! Of what can they be made?"
"Of money, sir," replied his dragoman; "in the past, the present, or the future. Stocks are booming. The barometer of joy stands very high. Nothing like it has been known for thirty years; not, indeed, since the days of the Great Skirmish."
"There is, then, a connection between joy and money?" remarked the Angel, letting smoke dribble through his chiselled nostrils.
"Such is the common belief; though to prove it might take time. I will, however, endeavour to do this if you desire it, sir."
"I certainly do," said the Angel; "for a less joyous-looking crowd I have seldom seen. Between every pair of brows there is a furrow, and no one whistles."
"You do not understand," returned his dragoman; "nor indeed is it surprising, for it is not so much the money as the thought that some day you need no longer make it which causes joy."