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03 - The Flying Inn - GK Chesterton · Classic Sci Fi Books - Daily

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  Speaker 1: Chapter three, The sign of the Old Ship. Upon few
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  Speaker 1: of the children of men has the surname of Pump fallen,
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  Speaker 1: And of these few have been maddened into naming a
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  Speaker 1: child Humphrey in addition to it. To such extremity, however,
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  Speaker 1: had the parents of the innkeeper at the Old Ship
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  Speaker 1: proceeded that their son might come at last to be
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  Speaker 1: called humph by his dearest friends, and Pump by an
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  Speaker 1: aged turk with a green umbrella. All this, or all
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  Speaker 1: he knew of it, he endured with a sour smile,
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  Speaker 1: for he was of a stoical temper. Mister Humphrey Pump
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  Speaker 1: stood outside his inn, which stood almost on the sea shore,
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  Speaker 1: screened only by one line of apple trees, dwarfed, twisted,
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  Speaker 1: and salted by the sea air. But in front of
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  Speaker 1: it was a highly banked bowling green, and behind it
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  Speaker 1: the land sank abruptly, so that one very steep, sweeping
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  Speaker 1: road vanished into the depth and mystery of taller trees.
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  Speaker 1: Mister Pump was standing immediately under his trim sign, which
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  Speaker 1: stood erect in the turf, a wooden pole painted white
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  Speaker 1: and suspending a square whiteboard, also painted white, but further
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  Speaker 1: decorated with a highly grotesque blue ship, such as a
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  Speaker 1: child might draw, but into which mister Pump's patriotism had
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  Speaker 1: insinuated a disproportionately large red Saint George's cross. Mister Humphrey
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  Speaker 1: Pump was a man of middle size, with very broad shoulders,
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  Speaker 1: wearing a sort of shooting suit with gaiters. Indeed, he
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  Speaker 1: was engaged at the moment in cleaning and reloading a
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  Speaker 1: double barreled gun, a short but powerful weapon which he
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  Speaker 1: had invented or at least improved himself, and which, though
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  Speaker 1: eccentricanoff as compared with latest scientific arms, was neither clumsy
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  Speaker 1: nor as necessarily out of date. For Pump was one
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  Speaker 1: of those handy men who seemed to have a hundred hands.
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  Speaker 1: Like Briar Rheus, he made nearly everything for himself, and
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  Speaker 1: everything in his house was slightly different from the same
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  Speaker 1: thing in anyone else's house. He was also as cunning
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  Speaker 1: as pan or a poacher in everything, affecting every bird
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  Speaker 1: or dish, every leaf or berry in the woods. His
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  Speaker 1: mind was a rich soil of subconscious memories and traditions,
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  Speaker 1: and he had a curious kind of gossip so elusive
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  Speaker 1: as to almost amount to reticence, for he always took
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  Speaker 1: it for granted that everyone knew his county and its
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  Speaker 1: tails as intimately as he did. So he would mention
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  Speaker 1: the most mysterious and amazing things without relaxing a muscle
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  Speaker 1: on his face, which seemed to be made of knotted wood.
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  Speaker 1: His dark brown hair ended in two rudimentary side whiskers,
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  Speaker 1: giving him a slightly hoarsey look, but in the old
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  Speaker 1: fashioned sportsman's style. His smile was rather wry and crabbed,
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  Speaker 1: but his brown eyes were kindly and soft. He was
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  Speaker 1: very English as a rule. His movements, though quick, were cool,
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  Speaker 1: and on this occasion he put down the gun on
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  Speaker 1: the table outside the inn in a rather hurried manner,
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  Speaker 1: and came forward, dusting his hands in an unusual degree
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  Speaker 1: of animation and even defiance. Beyond the goblin green apple
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  Speaker 1: trees and against the sea had appeared the tall, slight
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  Speaker 1: figure of a girl in a dress about the color
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  Speaker 1: of copper and a large shady hat. Under the hat,
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  Speaker 1: her face was grave and beautiful, though rather swarthy. She
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  Speaker 1: shook hands with mister Pump, then he very ceremoniously put
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  Speaker 1: a chair for her and called her lady Joan. I
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  Speaker 1: thought I would like to look at the old place,
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  Speaker 1: She said. We have had some happy times here when
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  Speaker 1: we were boys and girls. I suppose you hardly see
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  Speaker 1: any of your old friends now very little, answered Pump,
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  Speaker 1: rubbing his short whisker reflectively. Lord Ivywood's become quite a methody, parson,
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  Speaker 1: you know, since he took the place, he's pulling down
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  Speaker 1: beer shops right and left. And mister Charles was sent
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  Speaker 1: to Australia for lying down flat at the funeral. Pretty stiff,
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  Speaker 1: I call it. But the old lady was a terror.
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  Speaker 1: Do you ever, hear asked Lady Joan Brett carelessly, of
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  Speaker 1: that irishman Captain Delroy. Yes, more often than from the rest,
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  Speaker 1: answered the innkeeper. He seems to have done wonders in
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  Speaker 1: this Greek business. Ah. He was a sad loss to
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  Speaker 1: the navy. They insulted his country, said the girl, looking
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  Speaker 1: at the sea with heightened color. After all, Ireland was
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  Speaker 1: his country, and he had a right to resent at
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  Speaker 1: being spoken of like that. And when they found he'd
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  Speaker 1: painted him, Green went on, mister Pump painted him, what,
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  Speaker 1: asked Lady June, painted Captain Dawson Green, continued mister Pump,
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  Speaker 1: and colorless tones. Captain Dawson said, green was the color
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  Speaker 1: of Irish traders, so Delroy painted him green. It was
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  Speaker 1: a great temptation, no doubt, with this fence being painted
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  Speaker 1: at the time in the pail of stuff there. But
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  Speaker 1: of course it had a very prejudicial effect on his
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  Speaker 1: professional career. What an extraordinariest story, said the staring Lady Jone,
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  Speaker 1: breaking into rather joyless laugh. It must go down among
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  Speaker 1: your county legends. I never heard that version before. Why
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  Speaker 1: it might be the origin of the green man over
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  Speaker 1: there by the town. Oh no, said Pump, simply, that's
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  Speaker 1: been there since before Waterloo times. Poor old Noyle had
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  Speaker 1: it until they put him away. You remember old Noyle,
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  Speaker 1: Lady June still alive. I hear in still writing love
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  Speaker 1: letters to Queen Victoria, only of course they aren't posted.
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  Speaker 1: Now have you heard from your Irish friend lately? Asked
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  Speaker 1: the girl keeping a steady on the sky line. Yes,
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  Speaker 1: I had a letter last week, answered the innkeeper. It
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  Speaker 1: seems not impossible that he may return to England. He's
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  Speaker 1: been acting for one of these Greek places and the
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  Speaker 1: negotiations seem to be concluded. It's a queer thing that
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  Speaker 1: his Lordship himself was the English minister in charge of them.
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  Speaker 1: You mean Lord Ivywood, said Lady Joane rather coldly. Yes,
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  Speaker 1: he has a great career before him. Evidently, I wish
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  Speaker 1: he hadn't got his knife into us so much, chuckled Pump.
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  Speaker 1: I don't believe there'll be an inn left in England.
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  Speaker 1: But the ivy Woods were always cranky. It's only fair
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  Speaker 1: to him to remember his grandfather. I think it's very
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  Speaker 1: ungallant on your part, said Lady Joane, with a mournful
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  Speaker 1: smile to ask a lady to remember his grandfather. You
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  Speaker 1: know what I mean, Lady Jones, said her host good humoredly.
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  Speaker 1: And I never was hard on the case myself. We
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  Speaker 1: all have our little ways. I shouldn't like it done
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  Speaker 1: to my pig, but I don't see why a man
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  Speaker 1: shouldn't have his own pig in his own pew with
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  Speaker 1: him if he likes it. It wasn't a free seat,
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  Speaker 1: that was the family pew. Lady Jane broke out laughing again.
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  Speaker 1: What horrible things you do seem to have heard of?
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  Speaker 1: She said, Well, I must be going, mister Hump, I
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  Speaker 1: mean mister Pump. I used to call you hump oh, hump,
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  Speaker 1: do you ever think any of us will ever be
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  Speaker 1: happy again? I suppose it rests with providence, he said,
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  Speaker 1: looking at the sea. Oh do say providence, again, cried
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  Speaker 1: the girl. It's as good as masterman ready, with which
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  Speaker 1: inconsequent words, she betook herself again to the path by
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  Speaker 1: the apple trees and walked back to the sea front
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  Speaker 1: to Pebblewick. The inn of the old ship lay a
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  Speaker 1: little beyond the old fishing village of Pebblewick, and that
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  Speaker 1: again was separated by an empty half mile or so
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  Speaker 1: from the new watering place of Pebblewick on sea. But
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  Speaker 1: the dark haired lady walked steadily along the sea front
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  Speaker 1: on a sort of parade which had been stretched out
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  Speaker 1: to east and west in the insane optimism of water
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  Speaker 1: in places. And as she approached the more crowded part,
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  Speaker 1: looked more and more carefully at the groups on the beach.
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  Speaker 1: Most of them were much the same as she had
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  Speaker 1: seen them more than a month before. The seekers after truth,
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  Speaker 1: as the man in the fence would say, who assembled
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  Speaker 1: daily to find out what the man was doing with
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  Speaker 1: the paper boxes, had not found out yet, neither had
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  Speaker 1: they wearied of their intellectual pilgrimage pennies were still thrown
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  Speaker 1: to the thundering atheist in acknowledgment of his incessant abuse.
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  Speaker 1: And this was all the more mysterious because the crowd
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  Speaker 1: was obviously indifferent and the atheist was obviously sincere. The
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  Speaker 1: man with the long neck, who led low church hymns
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  Speaker 1: with a little wooden spade, had indeed disappeared, for children's
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  Speaker 1: services of this kind are generally a moving feast. But
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  Speaker 1: the man whose only claim consisted of carrots round his
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  Speaker 1: hat was still there, and seemed to have even more
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  Speaker 1: money than before. But Lady Joane could see no sign
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  Speaker 1: of the little old man in the Feds. She could
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  Speaker 1: only suppose that he had failed entirely, and being in
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  Speaker 1: a bitter mood, she told herself bitterly that he had
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  Speaker 1: sunk out of sight, precisely because there was in his
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  Speaker 1: rubbish a touch of unearthly and insane clear headedness of
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  Speaker 1: which all these vulgar idiots were incapable. She did not
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  Speaker 1: confess to herself consciously that what had made both the
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  Speaker 1: man in the Feds and the man at the Inn
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  Speaker 1: interesting was the subject of which they had spoken. As
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  Speaker 1: she walked on rather wearily along the parade, she caught
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  Speaker 1: sight of a girl in black with faint fair hair
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  Speaker 1: and a tremulous, intelligent face, which she was sure she
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  Speaker 1: had seen before. Pulling together all her aristocratic training for
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  Speaker 1: the remembering of middle class people, she managed to remember
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  Speaker 1: that this was a miss Browning, who had done typewriting
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  Speaker 1: work for her a year or two before, and immediately
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  Speaker 1: went forward to greet her, partly out of genuine good
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  Speaker 1: nature and partly as a relief from her own rather
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  Speaker 1: dreary thoughts. Her tone was so seriously frank and friendly
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  Speaker 1: that the lady in black summoned the social courage to say,
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  Speaker 1: I've so often wanted to introduce you to my sister,
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  Speaker 1: who's much cleverer than I am. Though she does live
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  Speaker 1: at home, which I suppose is very old fashioned. She
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  Speaker 1: knows all sorts of intellectual people. She's talking to one
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  Speaker 1: of them now, this prophet of the moon that every
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  Speaker 1: one's talking about. Do let me introduce you, lady. Joan
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  Speaker 1: Brett had met many prophets of the moon and of
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  Speaker 1: other things, but she had the spontaneous courtesy which redeems
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  Speaker 1: the vices of her class, and she followed Miss Browning
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  Speaker 1: to a seat on the parade. She greeted Miss Browning's
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  Speaker 1: sister with glowing politeness. And this may really be counted
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  Speaker 1: to her credit, for she had great difficulty in looking
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  Speaker 1: at Miss Browning's sister at all. For on the seat
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  Speaker 1: beside her, still in a red fez, but in a
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  Speaker 1: brilliantly new black frock coat, and every appearance of prosperity,
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  Speaker 1: sat the old gentleman who had lectured on the sounds
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  Speaker 1: about the inns of England. He lectured at our ethical society,
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  Speaker 1: whispered Miss Browning. On the word alcohol, just on the
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  Speaker 1: word alcohol. He was perfectly thrilling, all about Arabia and algebra,
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  Speaker 1: you know, and how everything comes from the East. You
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  Speaker 1: really would be interested. I am interested, said lady Joam.
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  Speaker 1: Put it to yourselves. The man in the fez was
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  Speaker 1: saying to Miss Browning's sister, just what sort of meaning
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  Speaker 1: the names of your inns can have if they do
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  Speaker 1: not commemorate the unlimitable influence of Islam. There is a
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  Speaker 1: very populous inn in London, one of the most distinguished,
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  Speaker 1: one of the most of the center, and it has
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  Speaker 1: called the Horseshoe. Now, my friends, why should anyone commemorate
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  Speaker 1: a horseshoe, It is but an appendage to a creature
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  Speaker 1: more interesting than itself. I have already demonstrated to you
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  Speaker 1: that the very fact that you have in your town
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  Speaker 1: a place of drink called the bull, I should like
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  Speaker 1: to ask, began Lady Jones. Suddenly a place of drink
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  Speaker 1: called the bull went on. The man in the fez
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  Speaker 1: deaf to all distractions. And I have urged that the
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  Speaker 1: bull is a disturbing thought. Well, the bull bull is
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  Speaker 1: a reassuring thought. But even you, my friends, would not
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  Speaker 1: name a place after a ring in a bull's nose,
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  Speaker 1: and not after the bull. Why then, name an equivalent
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  Speaker 1: place after the shoe, the mere shoe upon a horse's hoof,
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  Speaker 1: and not after the noble horse. Surely it is clear.
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  Speaker 1: Surely it is evident that the term horseshoe is a
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  Speaker 1: cryptic term, an esoteric term, a term made during the
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  Speaker 1: days when the ancient Moslem faith in this English country
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  Speaker 1: was oppressed by the passing superstition of the Galileans. That
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  Speaker 1: bent shape, that duplex, curving shape which you call horseshoe,
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  Speaker 1: Is it not, clearly the crescent? And he cast his
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  Speaker 1: arms wide as he had done on the sands the
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  Speaker 1: crescent of the Prophet of the Only God. I should
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  Speaker 1: like to ask, began Lady Joan again, how you would
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  Speaker 1: explain the name of the inn called the green man
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  Speaker 1: just behind that row of houses? Exactly exactly, cried the
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  Speaker 1: Prophet of the Moon, in an almost insane excitement. The
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  Speaker 1: seeker after truth could not at all probably find a
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  Speaker 1: more perfect example of these principles, my friends, how could
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  Speaker 1: there be a green man? You are acquainted with green grass,
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  Speaker 1: with green leaves, with green cheese, and with green chartreuths.
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  Speaker 1: I ask if any one of you, however wide her
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  Speaker 1: social circle, has ever been acquainted with a green man. Surely,
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  Speaker 1: surely it is evident, my friends, that this is an
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  Speaker 1: imperfect version, an abbreviated version of the original words. What
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  Speaker 1: can be clearer than that the original expression was the
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  Speaker 1: green turband man, in allusion to the well known uniform
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  Speaker 1: of the descendants of the prophet. Turband Surely is just
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  Speaker 1: the sort of word, exactly, the sort of foreign and
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  Speaker 1: unfamiliar word that might easily be slurred over and ultimately suppressed.
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  Speaker 1: There is a legend in these parts, said Lady Jones steadily,
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  Speaker 1: that a great hero, hearing the color that was sacred
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  Speaker 1: to his holy island insulted, really poured it over his
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  Speaker 1: enemy For a reply, a legend, a fable, cried the
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  Speaker 1: man in the fez, with another radiant and rational expansion
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  Speaker 1: of the hands. Is it not evident that no such
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  Speaker 1: thing can have really happened? Oh, yes, it really happened,
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  Speaker 1: said the young lady softly. There is not much to
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  Speaker 1: comfort one in this world, but there are some things. Oh,
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  Speaker 1: it really happened, And taking a graceful farewell of the group,
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  Speaker 1: she resumed her rather listless walk along the parade. End
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  Speaker 1: of chapter three,