large/1868/reginald_0709_librivox_64kb_mp3/reginald_14_saki_64kb_7
large/1868/reginald_0709_librivox_64kb_mp3/reginald_14_saki_64kb
English
1868
But the editors were unanimous in leaving it alone; they said the thing had been done before and done worse, and that the market for that sort of work was extremely limited. BUT THE EDITORS WERE UNANIMOUS IN LEAVING IT ALONE THEY SAID THE THING HAD BEEN DONE BEFORE AND DONE WORSE AND THAT THE MARKET FOR THAT SORT OF WORK WAS EXTREMELY LIMITED
ccurred to me that I would like to be a poet. The chief qualification, I understand, is that you must be born. Well, I hunted up my birth certificate, and found that I was all right on that score, and then I got to work on a Hymn to the New Year, which struck me as having possibilities. It suggested extremely unusual things to absolutely unlikely people, which I believe is the art of first-class catering in any department. Quite the best verse in it went something like this-- "Have you heard the groan of a gravelled grouse, Or the snarl of a snaffled snail (Husband or mother, like me, or spouse), Have you lain a-creep in the darkened house Where the wounded wombats wail?" It was quite improbable that anyone had, you know, and that's where it stimulated the imagination and took people out of their narrow, humdrum selves. No one has ever called me narrow or humdrum, but even I felt worked up now and then at the thought of that house with the stricken wombats in it. It simply wasn't nice. IONS FOR THE NEW YEAR IT OCCURRED TO ME THAT I WOULD LIKE TO BE A POET THE CHIEF QUALIFICATION I UNDERSTAND IS THAT YOU MUST BE BORN WELL I HUNTED UP MY BIRTH CERTIFICATE AND FOUND THAT I WAS ALL RIGHT ON THAT SCORE AND THEN I GOT TO WORK ON A HYMN TO THE NEW YEAR WHICH STRUCK ME AS HAVING POSSIBILITIES IT SUGGESTED EXTREMELY UNUSUAL THINGS TO ABSOLUTELY UNLIKELY PEOPLE WHICH I BELIEVE IS THE ART OF FIRST CLASS CATERING IN ANY DEPARTMENT QUITE THE BEST VERSE IN IT WENT SOMETHING LIKE THIS HAVE YOU HEARD THE GROAN OF A GRAVELLED GROUSE OR THE SNARL OF A SNAFFLED SNAIL HUSBAND OR MOTHER LIKE ME OR SPOUSE HAVE YOU LAY IN A CREEP IN THE DARKENED HOUSE WHERE THE WOUNDED WAMBATS WAIL IT WAS QUITE IMPROBABLE THAT ANY ONE HAD YOU KNOW AND THAT'S WHERE IT STIMULATED THE IMAGINATION AND TOOK PEOPLE OUT OF THEIR NARROW HUMDRUM SELVES NO ONE HAS EVER CALLED ME NARROW OR HUMDRUM BUT EVEN I FELT WORKED UP NOW AND THEN AT THE THOUGHT OF THAT HOUSE WITH THE STRICKEN WAMBATS IN IT IT SIMPLY WASN'T NICE
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