I think I am becoming
rather sick of the theatre and all its associations."
"Really, Mr. Moore," she said, with a smile, "it is surprising to hear
you say so--you of all men."
"What comes of it? You play the fool before a lot of idle people,
until--until--your nature is subdued to what it works in, I suppose.
What service do you do to any human being?--of what use are you in the
world?"
"Surely you confer a benefit on the public when you provide them with
innocent amusement," she ventured to say--she had not considered this
subject much, if at all.
"But what comes of it? They laugh for an hour or two and go home. It is
all gone--like a breath of wind--"
"But isn't mere distraction a useful and wholesome thing?" she
remonstrated again, "I know a great philosopher who is exceedingly fond
of billiards, and very eager about the game too; but he doesn't expect
to gain any moral enlightenment from three balls and a bit of stick.
Distraction, amusement, is necessary to human beings; we can't always be
thinking of the problems of life."
"They talk of the divine power of song!" he continued. "Well, what I
want to do is this. I can sing a little; and I want to know that this
gift I have from Nature hasn't been entirely thrown away--scattered to
the winds and lost.
Pages:
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526