Watt

  Said the column of cubes to the column of roots,

  Oh what will you have to drink?

  Said the column of cubes to the column of roots,

  Oh what will you have to drink?

  Said the column of cubes to the column of roots,

  Oh what will you have to drink?

  Why, thank you, sir, said the column of roots,

  I’ll have a bottle of ink.

  Hahahaha, haha, ha, hum, said Mr de Baker. Any more questions, before I go home to bed, said Mr Fitzwein. I was raising a point, said Mr O’Meldon, when I was interrupted. Perhaps he could go on from where he left off, said Mr Magershon. The point I was raising, said Mr O’Meldon, when I was interrupted, is this, that of the two columns of figures here before me this afternoon, the one, or— He has said this twice already, said Mr MacStern. If not three times, said Mr de Baker. Go on from where you left off, said Mr Magershon, not from where you began. Or are you like Darwin’s caterpillar? Darwin’s what? said Mr de Baker. Darwin’s caterpillar? said Mr Magershon. What was the matter with him? said Mr MacStern. The matter with him was this, said Mr Magershon, that when he was disturbed in the building of his hammock— Are we here to discuss caterpillars? said Mr O’Meldon. Raise your point for the love of God, said Mr Fitzwein, and let me get home to my wife. He added, And children. The point I was in the act of raising, said Mr O’Meldon, when I was so rudely interrupted, was this, that if in the lefthand column, or column of roots, instead of there being figures of two digits at the most, there were figures of three digits, and even four digits, to go no further, then in the righthand column, or column of cubes, instead of there being figures of six digits at the most, there would be figures of seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven and even twelve digits. A silence followed these words. Would there not, Mr Louit, said Mr O’Meldon. Very likely, said Louit. Then why, said Mr Meldon, leaning forward and bringing down his fist with a thump on the table, why are there not? Are there not what? said Mr Fitzwein. What I have just said, said Mr O’Meldon. What was that? said Mr Fitzwein. Mr O’Meldon replied, On the one hand, in the one column— Or column of roots, said Mr de Baker. Mr O’Meldon continued, Figures of three digits and even four— To go no further, said Mr MacStern. Mr O’Meldon continued, And on the other, in the other— Or column of cubes, said Mr Magershon. Mr O’Meldon continued, Figures of seven— Of eight, said Mr de Baker. Of nine, said Mr MacStern. Of ten, said Mr Magershon. Of eleven, said Mr de Baker. And even of twelve, said Mr MacStern. Digits, said Mr Magershon. Why should there be? said Mr Fitzwein. Little by little the bird, said Louit. Am I then to suppose, Mr Louit, said Mr O’Meldon, that if I were to ask this fellow for the cube root of say — he bent over his paper — let us say nine hundred and seventy-three million two hundred and fifty-two thousand two hundred and seventy-one, he could not supply it? Not this evening, said Louit. Or, said Mr O’Meldon, reading again from his paper, nine hundred and ninety-eight billion seven hundred million one hundred and twenty-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine, for example? Not just now, some other time, said Louit. Ha, said Mr O’Meldon. Is your point now raised, Mr O’Meldon, said Mr Fitzwein. It is, said Mr O’Meldon. I am glad to hear that, said Mr Fitzwein. You will tell us about it later, said Mr Magershon. Where have I seen that face before, said Mr Fitzwein. Just one more thing, said Mr MacStern. The sun has now sunk, in the west, said Mr de Baker, turning his head, and extending his arm, in that direction. Then the others turned too, and looked long, at the place where the sun had been, but a moment before. But Mr de Baker whirled round and pointed in the opposite direction, saying, While in the orient night is falling fast. Then the others to those shimmering windows turned them round, to the sky dark grey below, and lighter grey above. For the night seemed less to fall, than to rise, from below, like another day. But finally as from the filling grave, or with the loved one disappearing conveyance, mark well my words, Mr Graves, with the loved one disappearing conveyance, slowly their sighing bodies they tore away, and Mr Fitzwein began briskly to gather up his papers, for in that ending light he had found the place, the ancient place, where he had seen that face before, and so he rose and rapidly left the hall (as though he could have rapidly left the hall without rising), followed more leisurely by his assistants, in this order, first Mr O’Meldon, and then Mr MacStern, and then Mr de Baker, and then Mr Magershon, as chance would have it, or some other force. And then Mr O’Meldon, pausing on his way to shake Louit by the hand, and pat Mr Nackybal on the head, with a quick pat that he wiped off at once discreetly on his trousers, was overtaken and left behind, first by Mr MacStern, and then by Mr de Baker, and then by Mr Magershon. And then Mr MacStern, halting to formulate that one more thing, was overtaken and left behind, first by Mr de Baker, and then by Mr Magershon. And then Mr de Baker, kneeling to secure his lace, which had come undone, as laces will, was passed by Mr Magershon, who swept on slowly alone, like something out of Poe, towards the door, and would indeed have reached it, and passed through it, had not a sudden thought stiffened him in his stride, so that he stood, two feet between the foot-following feet, on left sole and right toe, in the uncertain equilibrium of erect consternation. And now the order was reversed in which, following Mr Fitzwein, now in the eleven tram, they had set out, so that the first was last, and the last first, and the second third, and the third second, and that what had been, in order of march, Mr O’Meldon, Mr MacStern, Mr de Baker and Mr Magershon, was now, brooding, kneeling, brooding, greeting, Mr Magershon, Mr de Baker, Mr MacStern and Mr O’Meldon. But hardly had Mr O’Meldon, ceasing to greet, moved on towards Mr MacStern, when Mr MacStern, ceasing to brood, moved on, accompanied by Mr O’Meldon, towards Mr de Baker. But hardly had Mr O’Meldon and Mr MacStern, ceasing, first Mr O’Meldon, then Mr MacStern, the first to greet, the second to brood, moved on together towards Mr de Baker, when Mr de Baker, ceasing to kneel, moved on, accompanied by Mr Meldon and Mr MacStern, towards Mr Magershon. But hardly had Mr O’Meldon and Mr MacStern and Mr de Baker, ceasing, first Mr O’Meldon, then Mr MacStern, then Mr de Baker, the first to greet, the second to brood, the third to kneel, moved on together towards Mr Magershon, when Mr Magershon, ceasing to brood, moved on, accompanied by Mr O’Meldon and Mr MacStern and Mr de Baker, towards the door. And so through the door, after the customary coagulation, the holding back, the thrust resisting, the sideways stepping, the onward urging, and the little landing along, and down the noble stairs, and out into the court now rife with night, one by one they passed, Mr MacStern, Mr O’Meldon, Mr Magershon, and Mr de Baker, in that order, as chance would have it, or some other agency. So that who was first first and second last now was second, and who was first second and second third now was first, and who was first third and second second now was last, and who was first last and second first now was third. And soon after Mr Nackybal put on his outer clothes and went away. And soon after Louit went away. And Louit, going down the stairs, met the bitter stout porter Power coming up. And as they passed the porter raised his cap and Louit smiled. And they did well. For had not Louit smiled, then Power had not raised his cap, and had not Power raised his cap, then Louit had not smiled, but they had passed, each on his way, Louit down, Power up, the one unsmiling, and the other covered. Now the next day—