4. Reverse an epigram and you get a platitude.
5. The savage, sour, and friendless epigram. The last sounds to me all wrong, for it has no verb. But I give it as I find it.
George’s new novel is to be called The Senior Epigrammatist, and the scene is laid in the Smart Sea Islands.
“Our well-known blend,” said Mr. Aix, “of opaline sea and crystal epigram knocks the public every time! But mark me, Christina dear, this sunlight soap won’t wash clothes. It isn’t for home consumption. It gladdens publishers’ offices, but leaves the domestic hearth cold. The fires of passion——”
“Don’t talk to me of passion,” said Christina. “I just detest the word. Passion is piggish! It’s a perfect disgrace to have primitive instincts, and I wouldn’t be seen dead with a temperament, in these days.”
She was putting a new ribbon into her typewriter and trying it. She typed something like this—
Christina x x x Ball x x C.B. x x (——) C. Ball B B——
“Who is Ball?” said Mr. Aix anxiously.
Christina answered as if she meant to bite his head off.
“A man who never made an epigram in his life, and stands six foot six in his shoes.”