How Doth the Simple Spelling Bee Part 2

My perusal was interrupted by his seizing the list away from me. "The po'tuh has turned the gas higher," he said. "That gives me another whole big line of 'em." And he wrote:--

Light should be lite. So also fight, and tight and others on the same plan.

"Po'tuh!" he called out, "what is yore name?"

"Michael, Colonel," the man answered.

"Another!" exclaimed the professor. And he wrote:--

Michael, Mycle, because cycle.

Bicicle because icicle.

I kept various doubts to myself, and resolved that such must continue my policy if I were ever to have peace; but, no matter how I might agree to spell bicycle, I was secretly determined never to address my younger brother as Mycle. Imagine thus mutilating a name that had been in our family for generations!

Professor Willows showed his list to Miss Appleby; I saw him, and I saw her evidently add some words to it. But, to my surprise, this seemed to cause them mirth. They did not seek my company, and conversed together without ceasing, in a corner of our car, while Kibosh slumbered; and I wondered if the Higher Spelling was the subject that brought their heads so close to each other. That girl was more and more a disappointment to me; and I retired in no very good humor.

Mycle was not the only word to which, as I dressed myself next morning, I found my opinion to be entirely adverse; frate seemed to me objectionable, nor did I feel any leanings toward brij and lite. And the surprising readiness with which Professor Willows accepted my criticism failed to make upon me the happy impression which the adoption of one's views by another is apt to cause.

"You don't like frate, suh?" he said, whipping out his pencil, and quickly writing on his list. "Bless yore heart, then we'll just make it frait. How does that hit yore fancy?"

I thanked him for his amiability, but my fancy was as little hit by frait as it had been by frate; and it was still less. .h.i.t when he came to me with his customary enthusiasm some twenty-five minutes after breakfast, to show me forty-three more words that he had simplified since rising from table. Still keeping all thoughts to myself, I read:--

Earth and dearth to irth and dirth, like mirth. Also worth to wirth. Pheasants whirr. Cats should pirr.

I pa.s.sed the list back with I know not what commendations of his rapidity. He retired with it to the rear platform, where sat Miss Appleby; and almost immediately I heard egregious peals of laughter coming from them both. This, for some reason, kindled in me such annoyance that I put my head out of the door, and cried loudly to them: "Do you intend to make flirt flurt, or hurt hirt? And how about squirt?"

And I shut the door sharp upon my words before they could make answer to me. But still, even through the closed door and thick plate-gla.s.s windows, their shameless merriment reached me, and seemed, if anything, louder than ever.

The outlook for the Higher Spelling was scarce a bright one, I thought, if the rest of my colleagues, whom I had yet to meet, should approach their solemn responsibilities in anything of the spirit shown by Professor Willows and Miss Appleby. His facile adoption of a new spelling, and equally facile relinquishment of it, gave but poor evidence of any deep thought on this matter; and to see him through the plate-gla.s.s as he talked to her on the rear platform, no one would easily be persuaded that spelling was the subject of their colloquy; and lastly, when he fetched a large shawl and hung it across the window outside, so that they were wholly screened from view, I found it no light effort to believe that it was to s.h.i.+eld her from the cold blast, as he informed me.

I sought (without great eagerness) the companions.h.i.+p of Kibosh. "Do you not fear," I asked him, "that we may not find ourselves able to reach an agreement as to the system by which this respelling should proceed?"

"What would hinder it?" he inquired.

"Of course, our present spelling is but a rag-bag of lawlessness," I replied, for I was growing fond of my description of it. "But great authors and newspapers have spread it round the globe. The sun never sets on English spelling. We must join the great English universities with us. We must join Canada, India, Australia. We must do it right."

"England will have to follow us!" he declared.

"If you'll watch England," I said, "I think you'll find she has her own ideas about that."

"Then our publishers and writers will ignore England," he replied.

"If you'll watch our publishers and writers," I again said, "you'll see they'll be slow to let go their English market by making books that would be illegible throughout the British Empire."

"What are authors, anyhow?" he demanded. "It is our business men who are our glory."

"If you'll watch our business men," I repeated, not without acerbity, "you'll find they have London correspondents, and they'll not care to run two sorts of spelling with their stenographers."

Kibosh thought awhile, and then, with his gentle smile, he again removed his chickle and placed it on the window-sill.

"But, nevertheless, Masticator will have gained his point," he said.

"Scarcely so, if a system fails us, and we do nothing," I suggested.

He seemed not to hear me. "And all of the committee, every member, will have gained the point as well."

"You'll pardon me, but what is the point?" I now asked him.

"And the English language," he continued more and more gently, "it will have gained the point, too."

"I must confess," I said, "to utter ignorance of your meaning."

Kibosh smiled for a long while, looking at me very kindly.

"You will readily appreciate," he at length began, "that the greatest need of mankind is Publicity. It is as essential to the German Emperor as it is to the female society leader, or the trick mule. We are no exceptions, we leaders of thought, and teachers of youth, and captains of industry; we too must have Publicity or--ahem--pa.s.s under. And as the demand for Publicity increases, the supply of it naturally diminishes.

You understand that? Well, now, any a.s.sociation with Masticator B.

Fellows means Publicity at once for the lucky individual. But there are times when the vast sweep of economic currents ties up all the available Publicity, and at those times great enterprises languish from its scarcity. It may befall that even such giant operators as Masticator B.

Fellows find themselves embarra.s.sed. It is then only the man of genius whose magic hand can smite the rock in some novel way, and cause Publicity again to gush forth fresh and sparkling--it is then only he who is heard from. There has been such a time of late. Publicity was tied up, and Masticator needed some for his--for certain plans he has to benefit the human race. Now, what does Masticator do? He surveys the general situation, he thinks it over, and presently he says 'Spelling Reform.' He smites the rock, and there you have it. You understand me?

Well, supposing you gentlemen do fail to--ahem--make any considerable impression upon the English language, you will have made a considerable impression on the public; the rock will have gushed, Masticator's point will be gained. He will have secured the Publicity he needs for his--his benevolent enterprises; each of you gentlemen will have secured Publicity for your names and works; and we mustn't forget the English language. It will have got Publicity, too; it needs it, like all the rest of us. I'm sure you understand me."

Thus Kibosh finished, and it entered my mind to descend at our next stop, and take the first train back to my own place; but this thought I quickly dismissed, remembering Masticator's methods of reaching those whom he wanted. And (although I know this is unworthy) I was become very curious to see what we should all do, once we were gathered together. Were all the rest of my colleagues coming for Publicity? I glanced at the window, where the shawl still screened Professor Willows and Miss Appleby, and it seemed to me that they had come rather for Privacy.

"Who are the rest of my colleagues?" I now asked Kibosh.

"Well, now, I'm afraid you've got me," he responded. "There's--let me see--Professor Flawless Nathaniel Maverick, of Fishball University, Ma.s.sachusetts. He is with us. A profound scholar, sir."

"What is his line?" I asked.

"Well, now, that's another tough one. Let us see. Did he write The Fuel of the Future?"

I shook my head, being ignorant.

"Or was it The Mustard Plaster in Pharaoh's Time?" Kibosh dreamily pursued.

"What is the fuel of the future?" I asked.

"Pecan nuts. I am certain of that," answered Kibosh. "But whether he's that one, or whether it's Lysander Totts----"

"Who is Lysander Totts?" I inquired.

"Another profound scholar, sir. Of Numa Pompilius University, New York.

But we've got them from all around--from Seminole, Florida, Oglethorpe, Georgia, Lafitte, Louisiana, Sandys, Virginia, Graftsburg, Pennsylvania--but you'll meet them to-morrow at Chickle University. All profound scholars, sir. It was Totts, come to think of it."

"Think of what?" I asked.

"Pecan nuts," said Kibosh.

I should have been glad to learn the names of all my colleagues, and what they had written, that I might be the better prepared to meet them; but Kibosh could be sure only of Totts and his book; and Professor Willows and Miss Appleby had not heard even of Totts, when I asked them at lunch to enlighten me.

"What mattuh, suh?" cried Willows, cheerily. "They'll tell you quick enough themselves why they're so famous."