The Equinox (Volume I, Number VIII)

THE EQUINOX the streets of Venice, and nearly sobbed the station into the lagoon as she was torn shrieking from her favourite gondolier by the girls she was supposed to be chaperoning; think of C, who forgot the heavenly choir for the earthly, and of D, who was last seen in Naples being sick out of a window on the second floor; think of E, who married a girl named Ethel Maud, reaping in himself that recompense of his error which was meet; think of F, who might have performed the Opera— tion of the Sacred Magic of Abra—melin the Mage, and has taken up Goat Golf instead; think of G, who went ashore once too often, and was caught by a girl named Alphonsina Nectarine Stubbs; think of H, who had to shave off the loveliest red beard to show what a strong chin he really had; think of I—nol that isn’t grammar—think of Mel My catalogue need not stop there, but it shall. Against all this what have we to urge but the awful example of J, who wanted to store up Ojas, and went off his K—nut? No, dear readers, love is not all that it’s cracked up to be. It’s a good boy to have to answer the bell, but it’s a bad packing-house when you’re the pig! Love is like champagne. You must drink it quickly; and if you keep it corked up too long, you find it has gone flat. It is a fine pick-me-up; but champagne all day is nastier than skilly. FRATER PERDURABO is a wise man. He never says “ Keep off the drink!” If you cannot drink soberly and decently you are not fit. If you can be your own master in the matter of love, you may perhaps master The Great Magician in the end. But if your Great Work means so little to you that the first from-fro” unsettles you, and the xxrv