"
"That comes with bad grace from an embryo scholar. If I were you I would
throw education 'to the dogs' and take things on trust like Thomas, or
the Mill Road people," I said, jestingly.
"I want to know for myself; and so not get cheated by every crank who
airs his theories."
"But, Hubert, to come back to the original dispute, if the atmosphere
does not hold our every foolish or necessary word, they are permanently
recorded in another place by a pen that never writes falsely, or misses
a single sentence. How many pages have you got written there, I wonder,
that if it were possible you would gladly obliterate with your heart's
blood one day."
"Mother, you are worse than the scientists; at least more terrifying. Do
you know, Miss Selwyn, when I was a little chap she had me persuaded to
be a missionary to Greenland, or the South Pole. I had made up my mind to
choose the very worst possible place, so as to have all the greater
reward."
"What has changed your mind?"
"Natural development, I expect. Mother is a very sweet and gentle woman,
but I am sorry to say she is a crank, if there was ever one."
"Why, Hubert, you amaze me," I said, smiling. "I thought she was as near
perfection as any one I ever knew. Excuse me expressing myself so
openly," I said, bowing to Mrs. Flaxman; "but won't you tell me what her
tendency to insanity is; for I believe cranks are a species of madmen, if
I rightly understand what the word implies."
"Over religiosity.
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