Pluck and Luck

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Pluck and Luck Page 6

by Robert Benchley


  VIII

  After all, where would God be?

  There wasn’t much that you could do about it, wherever He was, but you would just like to know. If Death was the end of everything and if Peace lay within Oneself, then what about the swans in the park? Only yesterday Rena had taken you out to see the swans in the park. It was your forty-ninth birthday, and Rena had promised you something nice if you would finish your oatmeal. The swans in the park were the nicest thing that you could think of; so Rena had taken you there in your new suit. Although you were only forty-nine, you took a fifty-five-year-old size suit. “He is big for his age,” Rena had said to the gate keeper. This made you very proud.

  IX

  One night you were awakened by a hand reaching through the bars of your crib. It was a big hand, like the locomotive you saw when they took you down to the locomotive works.

  “Come, get up; Grandpa, ” somebody said. “It’s time for your piano lesson.”

  You hated your piano lessons. They always came when you wanted most to play. But this time it wasn’t a piano lesson, for the hand did not belong to your teacher, Miss Marston, but to a big man in a denim suit. Slowly you got out of your crib and put on your rompers.

  “You are sure that he will have all the books and magazines he needs?” Rena was saying to the man.

  “More than he needs,” the man replied. “Come on, Grandpa,” he said, turning to you, “you and I are going to run up to the corner and back and see who beats.”

  That would be fun, you thought. And the best of it all was that Rena couldn’t run on account of those things she wore on her feet, “shoes” she called them, “these dammed shoes.”

  Goodbye, Rena!

  X

  After all, it was nice to be left alone in the big room. You could think. Perhaps Heraclitus was right, and Plato wrong. You probably never would know.

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  Is This

  the Missing Link?

  Bone Fragments Discovered in Weemix

  and the Problem They Present

  * * *

  Scientists are partially agog at the recent discovery in a gravel pit at Rudney Downs, Weemix, Filtshire, England, of certain scraps of skull bone which give every indication of having belonged to a sub-man of the Second Interglacial period. He has already been named (it was a boy, and a bouncing one at that) Homo Weemixensis, or Peter Pan.

  The discovery was made by an old scientist named Harry who was digging around in the gravel pit trying to find a caramel he had lost. He first came upon a bone fragment about the size of a new buffalo nickel, and, thinking nothing of it, called the police. A few weeks later, in quite another part of Rudney Downs (Rudney Downs has two parts, Rudney and Downs, contracted to Rudney Downs), another bone fragment was discovered which quite obviously belonged to the first, as it was marked “B” to correspond with the mark “A” on the original find. The two pieces, when placed together, spelled “MOTHER.”

  It is estimated that this sub-man lived approximately 100,000 years ago, before there were any street-cars. People went from place to place then in stage-coaches, and a letter written in London on a Tuesday might take three or four days by courier to reach Plymouth. So you see, we have things much easier today than Homo Weemixensis had, for all his bone fragments.

  Fellows from the University of London (jolly good fellows, you may be sure) have worked night and day on the reconstruction of this precursor of the human race, and have found out that the brain capacity of his skull was somewhere between that of the old Pithecanthropus and man. You would laugh if you knew how small that was. Old Pithecanthropus (the one discovered in Java, not one of the Hartford Pithecanthropi) is supposed to have had a brain capacity just a little larger than a canary’s. A good big canary, though. This would mean that if you yelled “Hi!” very suddenly in Pithecanthropus’ face, he would just laugh good-naturedly.

  Now the newly discovered sub-man was brighter than that. Dr. William Evett, in charge of the work of excavation and reconstruction, says of him:

  “It is quite probable that we have here the link between the Second Interglacial and the Pleiocene. This ape-man, from what we have been able to deduce, must have been about four feet seven inches high, with a broad nose and a scar running diagonally across his cheek, when last seen wore a dark blue serge suit and spoke with a slight Weemix accent. There is every reason to believe that he was with a woman named Mortimer, or Wadleigh.”

  Sir Robert Womm, however, does not agree with Dr. Evett that Homo Weemixensis walked with a slight limp.

  “Although I bow to Dr. Evett’s eminence in the field of ethnological research,” writes Sir Robert, “I can not feel that a man who would leave his wife as Dr. Evett did is a fit person to instruct our young.”

  Certain it is that trophies of the hunt were buried with the ape-man by his associates, for in the same gravel pit in which the bone fragments were found were later discovered a colored top with the string still attached to it and an old glove.

  A description of the probable appearance of the Weemix jaw is given us by Lord Duncamon, who took the two fragments home with him that night and shined them up a little.

  “The jaw is imperfect in front, but has the broad, flat symphysis of the ape-jaw. It has marks showing a lateral movement of the tubercles of the molars which would indicate that its owner either smoked a pipe or else stored nuts away for the winter in his mouth. On this hypothesis we are able to base our conclusion that Homo Weemixensis was nobody’s fool.”

  It is hoped that the researches which are still going on will disclose some explanation of the fact that the material of these bony fragments seems to be similar in taste and texture to the material of which laundry soap is now made.

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  Checking Up

  on the Prophets

  * * *

  Every Thursday someone comes out and says that if America keeps on doing something or other at the rate it is doing it now there will be a smash-up within ten years. Sometimes it is Europe that will collapse. Sometimes it is the whole world. This has been going on for at least ten years now, so let us look back and see what was predicted then for today. According to the exclusive information abroad at that time, our country is at the present time in the following condition:

  The home has vanished as an institution, owing to the prevalence of divorce. In some of the prairie districts there are a few men and women living together as man and wife, but aside from that there is nothing but chaos and free love.

  The race has died out, owing to the decreasing birth-rate among the upper classes.

  Industry is at a standstill as a result of the introduction of the eight-hour day.

  American manufacturing, dealt a death-blow by the Underwood tariff, is extinct.

  The Mississippi River has overflowed its banks and the entire Middle West is under water.

  The home is shattered, family-life ruined and the Government collapsing, thanks to the establishment of Women’s Suffrage.

  Our supply of coal ran out a year ago and we haven’t had any oil for two years.

  My young son is bow-legged, owing to his having walked too soon.

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  How It Can Be Done

  A Plan for German Indemnities

  * * *

  It has just been called to my attention that Germany is having trouble paying her indemnities. I only wish that I had known of this before, as I have a plan which I think would have fixed things up six months ago. They keep these things so secret. It is almost as if they didn’t want any help.

  In 1870 Germany was confronted by this same problem. In 1870, however, the problem was not one of money, but of irrigation. They couldn’t get enough water into the Tauber River to pay for keeping it running. It finally got so that they were importing water from Denmark, emptying it from tank cars at the top of the hill down which the Tauber flows
and recapturing it at the bottom for shipment to Spain, who was buying it at second-hand for use in the Guadalupe. All rivers in Spain use second-hand water.

  Thus it will be seen that Germany’s problem in 1870 and Germany’s problem today were not the same. This makes it easier to prescribe for today’s problem.

  My plan would be this: Divide Germany up into districts of Reichsabwesendungen. Have each district or Reichsabwesendung sub-divided into little individual countries or Blatz, each with its own president, house-committee, and rest-room for the women employees. Each of these Blatzen will be assessed so much, according to the number of houses in it. Thus, a Blatz containing eleven houses would be assessed so much, while one containing twenty houses would not be assessed at all but would have to report to the president every Wednesday and submit an estimate.

  Now. When these districts had fulfilled their obligations, it would be the duty of the Ratmeister to get in touch by telephone with the Inter-Allied Debt Commission at Genoa (or the one at Innsbruck if the Genoa line is busy) and tell them how he is and what he has been doing all day. The Inter-Allied Debt Commission will refuse to listen, and the whole matter will then be thrown back into conference again, constituting the crisis for that month. Thus we have:

  Total indemnity 3,000,000,000 marks

  Total indemnity 6,000,000,000 marks

  Total indemnity 11,000,000,000 marks

  Total indemnity 8,000,000,000 marks

  Of this, one third goes to the house for current expenses. The rest is figured out on a per capita basis and given to Cousin George to invest. He knows what all the good things are.

  After this, the rest is simple. Double your cost of production, increase your turn-over, touch the floor twenty times without bending your knees, and there is your indemnity paid with something left over for candy.

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  “Bicycling,”

  the New Craze

  * * *

  There is a new sport this season which bids fair to have great popularity among the younger sets, a sport imported, as are so many of our outdoor games, from England, where it has had a great vogue for several years now. This sport is called “bicycling,” and derives its name from the instrument on which it is practiced – the “bicycle.” You will see that this word is made up of two words: “bi,” meaning “two,’ and “cycle,” meaning wheel “two wheels.” And such indeed it is, a veritable two-wheeled contraption, on which the rider sits and balances himself until he is able, by pushing two pedals arranged for the purpose, to propel the whole thing along the roadway at a great rate. And what a lark it is, too!

  We show a picture of a bicycle here [b], and you may figure out for yourself just how it works. You will see that the pedals are so fixed that when one foot is up the other is down, thus giving the feet an equal chance at the rousing exercise and doing away with any chance of the rider’s becoming one-sided, as might well result from a position where one foot was up all the time and one foot down.

  You will also observe that the saddle is placed at just the right height from the pedals, so that the rider sits on it easily without having to stretch his legs out beyond their natural length – or, on the other hand, without having to contract them. When experiments were being made on the first bicycle by the inventor, it was thought that it would be necessary for anyone who was going to ride one of the things to stretch his legs out anywhere from one to four feet beyond their natural length in order to reach the pedals. The inventor was very much discouraged when he realized this, “for,” as he said to his partner, “there won’t be enough people in the world who can stretch their legs out from one to four feet to make any decent kind of sale for my machine at all.”

  So broken was he at the realization of this fact that he put this invention aside, and for the next three years he worked on the invention of the apple.

  Then one day, as he was sitting in a swing on his lawn, he said to himself: “If the force of gravity is sufficient to swing this swing when I push with my feet, why can’t I overcome that difficulty in my bicycle by placing the pedals just a leg’s length from the saddle?” He rushed out to his workshop, where the discarded model of his bicycle had lain for so long, and proceeded to reconstruct it so that he could sit in the saddle and still reach the pedals without the necessity of stretching his legs.

  Another novel feature of the bicycle is the wire rack for carrying books and luncheons. This is fastened right on the front, or “handlebars,” of the machine, and with it one is enabled to go out on picnics or reading parties in the woods, the only things then necessary being some luncheon or books to put into the rack, and woods to go to.

  Now comes the technical part of this article – an explanation of how to ride the bicycle. For surely one must know how to ride a bicycle if one is to own one. And it is getting so that one must own a bicycle if one hopes to be anyone at all socially. Even a casual visitor at Newport, Rhode Island, will tell you how the craze has caught hold of the fast set there, until one is constantly in danger of being run down by millionaire bicyclists as one walks through the streets. It is even said that at some of the exclusive parties given in the villas there, the guests bring their bicycles right in with them and keep the clips on their trousers all during dinner. It is a mark of distinction to be seen with bicycle-clips on your trousers, for it indicates that you are “up with the times.”

  The first thing that the prospective rider has to do is take position as indicated in the accompanying sketch. This involves standing upright with the bicycle leaning against the right hip, the right hand on the saddle, and the left hand on the left handlebar. The left foot is then placed on the left pedal and the rider waits. At a signal from the bugle (“Boots and Saddles” is usually played), the command “Mount!” is given. At this command the rider leans heavily against the bicycle, swings the right leg up, striking the saddle a smart blow with it, and crashing over on top of the machine, which will fall heavily at the same time in the same direction as the rider. Both rider and bicycle will lie in a heap until picked up by the attendant. Many riders will prefer to go home right then and there.

  If you really want to be an expert bicyclist, however, you will try again. Take the same position as the one you took in the first place (Fig. i) and practice swinging the right leg up over the saddle until you are finally able to clear it clean. This will land you in a sitting position, square on the saddle. Be sure that you are facing the right way (towards the handlebars), otherwise you will have trouble in steering and are likely to become dizzy.

  Now here you are, seated in the saddle, with your right hand on the right handlebar and your left hand on the left handlebar, your right foot on the left pedal and your left foot on the right pedal. You must then bring yourself into a state of mind where you realize the necessity for pushing ahead. That is one thing about riding a bicycle. You can’t stand still once you are seated and ready to go. There are three ways for you to go – forward, over to the right, or over to the left. Let us say that at first you go over to the right side. This is the most popular side for beginners, as it carries out the arc begun in the process of mounting. Once you have fallen over to the right side, try the left. This will even things up and make you less lame the next day, or, at any rate, lame in nicely-balanced areas.

  Once you have found the knack of going ahead, the thing is easy. Push with the feet against the pedals, bringing one up as the other goes down and vice versa. If you do this, you will suddenly perceive that the whole machine is moving forwards as if by magic, carrying you with it. Oh, the exhilaration of feeling yourself pushing forward through the air, like, or something like, a bird! No one who has experienced this thrill can conceive of its madness.

  When you have ridden as far as you want to ride, the next thing to do is to stop. This is accomplished by heading for something firm, like a post or a large white house, and crashing into it head-on. You will then find that you have not only stopped, but that you are o
ff, all in one continuous uninterrupted process.

  This concludes our first lesson in bicycling. People may poke fun at you for taking up with the first crazy fad that comes along, and you may not like it at first, but remember that no one ever does anything who is not willing to lead the way and take a chance, and I am sure that the results in improved circulation and general health will more than repay you for the embarrassment of being a pioneer and a cripple.

  [b] Due to copyright restrictions, the illustrations by Gluyas Williams (1888–1982) have been omitted.

  —E.C.M.

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  The Blue Sleeve Garter

  (Sex and Political Economy

  as blended by Mr. Galsworthy)

  * * *

  I

  PROSCENIUM

  In the rich gloom of the Board Room, surrounded by charts showing the Unemployment Situation and the old Corn Laws, Lister Hoag, seventeenth baronet, reviewed in his well dressed mind the situation which confronted his heart. There was, of course, Melisse. Tomorrow! Seventh anniversary of their wedding day! Seven years of what? He broke a lead pencil. Seven years of Melisse. Poor Melisse! And yet – in a way – poor Trevor! Sentiment was tip. Unquestionably sentiment was tip. Still, Lister felt a strange ache when he thought of it all. What good in thinking? What good in tying one’s tie? No – by Gad!

 

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