A
friend of mine returned the other day from an American tour, and
told me that he received a severe rebuke, out of the mouth of a
babe, which cured him of expatiating on his experiences. He lunched
with his brother soon after his return, and was holding forth with
a consciousness of brilliant descriptive emphasis, when his eldest
nephew, aged eight, towards the end of the meal, laid down his
spoon and fork, and said piteously to his mother, "Mummy, I MUST
talk; it does make me so tired to hear Uncle going on like that." A
still more effective rebuke was administered by a clever lady of my
acquaintance to a cousin of hers, a young lady who had just
returned from India, and was very full of her experiences. The
cousin had devoted herself during breakfast to giving a lively
description of social life in India, and was preparing to spend the
morning in continuing her lecture, when the elder lady slipped out
of the room, and returned with some sermon-paper, a blotting-book,
and a pen. "Maud," she said, "this is too good to be lost: you must
write it all down, every word!" The projected manuscript did not
come to very much, but the lesson was not thrown away.
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