Let us pause a little, and pay such honour as is due for persistence and importunity to these "little people," who have outlived the wise men of Egypt, the prophets of Palestine, the magicians of Persia, and the sages of Greece and Rome. They have actually been able to hold their own from the days of Homer, through those of Horace, down even to those of Haggard. I have seen the wear and tear of the Pyramids of Egypt (which is nothing to that of a lionised hero in Societas); I can certify that the Sphynx presents a very battered appearance indeed (though not so battered as mine, after the "little people" had done with me), but the Pygmies of to-day in Societas appear to be as plentiful and as perky as those that thousands of years ago swarmed in Æthiopia, built their houses with egg-shells, made war upon the Cranes, and attacked the tired hero Hercules.
You will understand that I, who have always professed to love humanity, even in the form of mannikins, better than beetles and butterflies, was as much interested in these small creatures as was Hercules in the skinful of midgets he carried to the exacting Eurystheus. As I looked at them, and thought how these represented the oldest race on the globe—namely, the Inquisitive Quidnuncs—my admiration really went to greater lengths than scoffing cynics might have expected.
These Pygmies of Societas, though small, are cunning, and wise in their generation. For the most part they toil not, (save at pleasure-seeking and lion-hunting), neither do they spin (anything beyond the edifying yarns they call "after-dinner stories"). But they manage to live on the fat of the land. The larger aborigines (called the Whirkirs) are very industrious, and form the clearings and cultivate the various produce of the place. The Pygmies appear to be aware that the plantations and powers of the Whirkirs are practically inexhaustible, and to think that they have as much right to the produce as the aboriginal owners and tillers. Therefore, they cling tightly to these plantations, and make the larger and more laborious natives pay dearly for the honour of their acquaintance. In another manner they perform valuable service by setting fashions, receiving strangers, and assisting in the defence of the settlements; they also hunt game, and supply the larger natives with plenty to do in working for and waiting on them. It appeared to me that the Pygmies were regarded somewhat as parasites (though highly ornamental ones, like orchids) whose departure would be more welcome—to the aborigines—than their vicinity. But a race which has survived so much and so many things is not easily to be got rid of.
Anyhow, I couldn't get rid of them, though sometimes I felt inclined to imitate Hercules. With their arrows and their unblushing importunities they had me at advantage, and even as Gulliver became the victim of the midgets of Lilliput, so did I of the innumerable, inquisitive, imperturbably impertinent Pygmies of Societas.
THE FIRST FIGHT.
(Between the Seventh Team of Australian Cricketers and an English Eleven, begun at Sheffield Park, on May 8, 1890.)
A haze hung over the Surrey Downs
In the early morning; but Nature's frowns
Broke up in smiles as the day advanced.