SOME NOTES AT STARMOUTH.
In Professor Skittles' chair—with the sun in my eyes. He has not begun to read my character yet; he is still measuring—with tape this time. I must say he takes great pains. Blazer contingent has moved up closer; they pretend to recognise me as "Cousin Bill." Take no notice of them—try to fix my thoughts far away—on Ethel Dering. How pretty she looked that night! Wonder, if I had plucked up my courage and spoken, whether she might not have—— However, I didn't, and she couldn't. How full is life of these missed opportunities! ("You're leaving out his nose, Guv'nor!" from a Blazer, and giggles from idiotic girls in front.) I feel very forlorn and friendless up here. Professor has finished measuring, and is preparing to "delineate" me.
Cross my legs, and compose myself to listen seriously. ("Cheer up, Sir; he'll tell you when he's going to 'urt you!" yelps a beast in the background.)
"Here we 'ave a gentleman," says the Professor, passing his hand along the top of my head, "in some respects rather a contrast to our last subject." (I should hope so, indeed!) "This gentleman's 'ed is the second largest we have had under examination to-day." ("'Ear-'ear!" from the Blazers, and a meaningless suggestion that I should "make a good 'atter!") "His Mental Brain is scarcely so large as we might expect; in fact, if the development of the lower brain were in proportion, we should find the gentleman—well, I was going to say, an idiot. Fortunately the brain, though not tall, is wide. He has Firmness, Energy, and what we call Driving Power, very large. This is a very curious gentleman"—("Oughter be stuffed!" puts in a ruffian, and everybody laughs—even the Professor—confound him!—smiles indulgently.) "He likes to go everywhere, and see everything. He can sit down to a good dinner, and enjoy it." (Shouldn't have thought that a rare characteristic—but it delights the audience.) "His Self-Esteem is large." (There he is quite wrong—I haven't nearly enough!) "Acquisitiveness also large; this gentleman believes in getting the full value for his money." (Don't believe I shall get it here, at all events!) "He is very cheerful and social." ("Don't he look it, too!" from a Blazer, and, of course, roars of laughter.) "In fact, if he were a little less social, it would be better." (This to me—who have come down here for absolute seclusion. This Professor is a fool!) "He will be fond of his children and of his wife." ("And can't she comb his 'air for him!" from the usual quarter. I am a bachelor, and this sort of thing is getting scandalous.) Professor says, "I must appeal to this gentleman's friends"—(this gentleman's "friends!")—"to keep a little more quiet while we are delineating. There is very small Eventuality—we should like to see a little more Eventuality—he must try to cultivate his Eventuality." (Indeed? Perhaps he will kindly tell me how I am to set about it!) "Approbativeness large; so we shall see him very anxious to gain the good opinion of others." (When I don't care a straw what people say of me! Phrenology is bosh—absolute bosh!) "Destructiveness small; this is not a gentleman who will do very much damage." (Sighs of mock relief from Blazers.) "Nor is he, we should find, particularly combative." ... ("You 'aven't seen 'im of a Saturday night," interrupts some vulgar brute.) Psha!—I won't listen; regard the audience with calm reproach. What a face that is on the second bench! what a pair of brown eyes!—kind of eyes Juliet must have had. Ethel's are light grey—what a serious, simple expression! She is not giggling, like all those fools—I could almost fancy she feels for me. How superior she seems to all the rest. Ethel Dering herself could not look more exquisitely out of place. In fact, I am not sure that Ethel would keep her countenance so well as this girl, who is bending forward with parted lips, and that sweet, interested light in her eyes.... I am getting sentimental. Was Romeo ever "delineated"? Professor is summing me up—I may as well listen.
"This is a gentleman of excellent business ability, and I should say he would be perfectly capable of managing a tolerably large business concern." ("Then how was it he got the sack from the 'am-and-beef shop?" inquired one of the pests.) "He is pushing and energetic, and he would get on well—even in a 'olesale business." (He is growing absolutely fulsome!) "If in business for himself, we shall not find him in a hurry to shut up his shop exactly at the hour of closing, if he thinks he could make more by keeping open a little longer." (Considering that I am in Government employ, with a decided leaning to literary pursuits, which has not, as yet, met with much support—this is rather too much, but it would be snobbish, perhaps, to say anything.) "I may add," concludes the Professor, with the air of a man who is conceding somewhat, "that this gentleman would be qualified to succeed, would do very well, as an artistic decorator. Are there any questions you would like to ask?"
Not after that—no, none; I haven't the heart to ask him if he thinks I could write even a creditable Nautical Drama! Besides, my faith in Phrenology is shaken. Let me get away—out of sight and hearing of these infernal Blazers.
Rise and leave with ironical dignity. Professor calls me back—thinks I forgot to pay my shilling. Annoying, because it had escaped me. "You didn't tell us he had a bump for bilking!" jeers a fiend—"bilking," I believe, is 'Arryan for going away without paying. Ironical dignity a failure. "Will I pay half-a-crown extra, and have a written report of my character?" I will not. Blazers seem sorry to part with me.