第13部分(第4/7 頁)

Other　similes　seemed　to　have　the　habit　of　living

in　discord。　They　had　been　many　times　married　and　divorced。　They　belonged

to　the　notorious　society　of　Mixed　Metaphors。

A　pany　of　phantoms　floated　in　and　out　wearing　tantalizing　garments

of　oblivion。　They　seemed　about　to　dance；　then　vanished。　They　reappeared

half　a　dozen　times；　but　never　unveiled　their　faces。　The　imp　Curiosity

pulled　Memory　by　the　sleeve　and　said；　〃Why　do　they　run　away？　'Tis

strange　knavery！〃　Out　ran　Memory　to　capture　them。　After　a　great　deal　of

racing　and　puffing　and　collision　it　apprehended　some　of　the　fugitives

and　brought　them　in。　But　when　it　tore　off　their　masks；　lo！　some　were

disappointingly　monplace；　and　others　were　gipsy　quotations　trying　to

conceal　the　punctuation　marks　that　belonged　to　them。　Memory　was　much

chagrined　to　have　had　such　a　hard　chase　only　to　catch　this　sorry　lot　of

graceless　rogues。

Into　the　rabble　strode　four　stately　giants　who　called　themselves

History；　Philosophy；　Law；　and　Medicine。　They　seemed　too　solemn　and

imposing　to　join　in　a　masque。　But　even　as　I　gazed　at　these　formidable

guests；　they　all　split　into　fragments　which　went　whirling；　dancing　in

divisions；　subdivisions；　re…subdivisions　of　scientific　nonsense！　History

split　into　philology；　ethnology；　anthropology；　and　mythology；　and　these

again　split　finer　than　the　splitting　of　hairs。　Each　speciality　hugged

its　bit　of　knowledge　and　waltzed　it　round　and　round。　The　rest　of　the

pany　began　to　nod；　and　I　felt　drowsy　myself。　To　put　an　end　to　the

solemn　gyrations；　a　troop　of　fairies　mercifully　waved　poppies　over　us

all；　the　masque　faded；　my　head　fell；　and　I　started。　Sleep　h