The Equinox (Volume I, Number X)

DEAD WEIGHT called Ramaswamy? in Madras?” and the like; in short, he turned the world upside down to produce laboured disproof of the statements—themselves impossible in nature—of a Paris penny dreadful of the class of Nick Carter and Deadwood Dick. Relentlessly does he demolish his adversary. If Camden is spent Campden (which might happen to the best of French authors) he shrieks [séc/ / /]. Many other remarks of the future saint display a lack of any sense of proportion or humour which was deplorable, and, by his best friends, deplored. It was also unfortunate in a way that a book purporting to deal exhaustively with the inmost cabinet secrets of high- grade Freemasonry should be written by one who was not even a craft Mason. The ?result was that Dr. Wynn Westcott having been made to swear by all his gods that he was zof Consulting Chemist to the British Government Underground Secret Poison Factory at Gibraltar, and that he had never received at his house a lady whom everybody but himself and the future saint (for in the whirligigs and revenges and, so to speak, Cochons Volants of time such was to be!) knew to be the absinthe or galette-begotten image in the mind of a French fumiste who had never in his brightest hours hoped to be taken seriously by as much as a rag-picker—people began to wonder what was the truth beneath the stories which West- cott was at such pains to deny. 1 Waite quotes the commonest name in all South India as if it were some- thing too fantastic for belief. 2 Please make paragraph read clearly.—Printer’s Reader. Heaven forgive you!—Ed. Can’t you see that I’m trying to write like Waite ?—A. Q. 213