swiftness with which the gouty generals found they could still hobble
surprised even themselves.

[Why are we so young?]

But it is in the music-hall, as I have said, that I am most impressed
with the youthfulness of man. How delighted we are when the long man
in the little boy's hat, having asked his short brother a riddle, and
before he can find time to answer it, hits him over the stomach with
an umbrella! How we clap our hands and shout with glee! It isn't
really his stomach: it is a bolster tied round his waist--we know
that; but seeing the long man whack at that bolster with an umbrella
gives us almost as much joy as if the bolster were not there.

I laugh at the knockabout brothers, I confess, so long as they are on
the stage; but they do not convince me. Reflecting on the
performance afterwards, my dramatic sense revolts against the "plot."
I cannot accept the theory of their being brothers. The difference
in size alone is a strain upon my imagination. It is not probable
that of two children of the same parents one should measure six foot
six, and the other five foot four. Even allowing for a freak of
nature, and accepting the fact that they might be brothers, I do not
believe they would remain so inseparable. The short brother would
have succeeded before now in losing the long brother. Those
continual bangings over the head and stomach would have weakened
whatever affection the short brother might originally have felt
towards his long relation. At least, he would insist upon the
umbrella being left at home.

"I will go for a walk with you," he might say, "I will stand stock