Aldous Huxley

“ Mandragore all said charming things.
Dinner was served; the party took their places. Lord Badgery sat at the head of the table, with Mr. Tillotson on his right hand and Sir Herbert Herne on his left. Confronted with Bomba's succulent cooking and Bomba's wines, Mr. Tillotson ate and drank a good deal. He had the appetite of one who has lived on greens and potatoes for ten years among the black beetles. After the second glass of wine he began to talk, suddenly and in a flood, as though a sluice had been pulled up. ”

“ Tillotson looked up, his face puckered into a smile, and nodded his head in affirmation of his words.
"You believe in the life to come?" said Spode, and immediately flushed for shame at the cruelty of the words. ”

“ Hither Spode now came almost every day, bringing the old man news of the progress of the banquet scheme. Every day he found Mr. Tillotson sitting in the same place under the window, bathing, as it were, in his tiny puddle of light. "The oldest man that ever wore grey hairs," Spode reflected as he looked at him. ”

“ I find literature quite depressing enough. I insist that life at least shall be a little gayer. Did you tell him I wanted him to paint my room?"
"But he can't paint. He's too blind and palsied."
"Can't paint?" Badgery exclaimed in horror. "Then what's the good of the old creature?"
" 'Can't paint?' Badgery exclaimed in horror. 'Then what's the good of the old creature?' "
"Well, if you put it like that—" Spode began.
"I shall never have my frescoes. Ring the bell, will you?"
Spode rang.
"What right has Tillotson to go on existing if he can't paint?" went on Lord Badgery petulantly. ”

“ Tillotson, with an incomparably noble gesture, leaned forward and tossed among the seething crowd of urchins his three last coppers
In Bomba's big room the company was assembling. The long gilt-edged mirrors reflected a singular collection of people. Middle-aged Academicians shot suspicious glances at youths whom they suspected, only too correctly, of being iconoclasts, organizers of Post-Impressionist Exhibitions. Rival art critics, brought suddenly face to face, quivered with restrained hatred. ”

“ Across his shirt front lay the broad green ribbon of some unknown Order.
"Queen of the tambourine, the cymbals, and the bones,"
Mr. Tillotson concluded in a gnat-like voice before welcoming his visitor. "Well, Spode, here you are. I'm dressed already, you see. The suit, I flatter myself, fits very well, almost as though it had been made for me. I am all gratitude to the gentleman who was kind enough to lend it to me; I shall take the greatest care of it. It's a dangerous thing to lend clothes, 'for loan oft loseth both itself and friend.' The bard is always right." ”

“ He gives continually of his best life, and in return he receives much joy, it is true much fame, it may be, but of material blessings, very few. It is eighty years since first I devoted my life to the service of art—eighty years, and almost every one of those years has brought me fresh and painful proof of what I have been saying: the artist's life is a hard one. ”

“ Spode rapped out as soon as the story was over. He was in an itch to let out his information about Deburau. Badgery had given him a perfect opening with his ridiculous Sanger. "What a perfect man, is n't he? He used to—"
"This is my main gallery," said Lord Badgery, throwing open one leaf of a tall folding-door. "I must apologize for it. It looks like a roller-skating rink." He fumbled with the electric switches and there was suddenly light—light that revealed an enormous gallery, duly receding into distance according to all the laws of perspective. ”

“ The conquest and capture of Badgery was an almost essential strategical move in the campaign. Edmund, forty-seventh Baron Badgery, was a lineal descendant of that Edmund, surnamed Le Blayreau, who landed on English soil in the train of William the Conqueror. Ennobled by William Rufus, the Badgerys had been one of the very few baronial families to survive the Wars of the Roses and all the other changes and chances of English history. They were a sensible and philoprogenitive race. No Badgery had ever fought in any war, no Badgery had ever engaged in any kind of politics. ”

“ He's only got ten pounds between him and the workhouse. And if you'd seen the black beetles in his basement!"
"Enough! enough! I 'll do everything you think fitting."
"I thought we might get up a subscription among lovers of the arts."
"There are n't any," said Badgery.
"No; but there are plenty of people who will subscribe out of snobisme."
"Not unless you give them something for their money."
"That's true. I had n't thought of that." Spode was silent for a moment. "We might have a dinner in his honor. The Great Tillotson Banquet. Doyen of the British art. ”

“ Mr. Tillotson looked down complacently at his shirt front. "Ah, you 've noticed my order. It's a long time since I wore that. It was given me by the Grand Porte, you know, for services rendered in the Russo-Turkish War. It's the Order of Chastity, the second class. They only give the first class to crowned heads, you know—browned heads and ambassadors. And only Pashas of the highest rank get the second. Mine's the second. They only give the first class to crowned heads—"
"Of course, of course," said Spode.
"Do you think I look all right, Mr. Spode?" Mr. Tillotson asked, a little anxiously. ”

“ Tillotson?"
"For the black beetles. There's nothing like a hedgehog for beetles. It will eat black beetles till it's sick, till it dies of surfeit. That reminds me of the time when I told my poor great master Haydon, in joke, of course, that he ought to send in a cartoon of King John dying of a surfeit of lampreys for the frescoes in the new Houses of Parliament. ”

“ The artist's life is a hard one."
At eleven Mr. Tillotson was talking about the Preraphaelites. At a quarter past he had begun to tell the story of B. R. Haydon all over again. At twenty-five minutes to twelve he collapsed quite speechless into his chair. Most of the guests had already gone away; the few who remained made haste to depart. Lord Badgery led the old man to the door and packed him into his second car. The Tillotson Banquet was over; it had been a pleasant evening, but a little too long.
Spode walked back to his rooms in Bloomsbury, whistling as he went. ”

“ They had been content to live and quietly to propagate their species in a huge machicolated Norman castle, surrounded by a triple moat, only sallying forth to cultivate their property and to collect their rents. In the eighteenth century, when life had become relatively secure, the Badgerys began to venture forth into civilized society. ”

“ So he got a job as a drawing-master in a girl's school in Holloway, and there he's been ever since, growing older and older, and feebler and feebler, and blinder and deafer, until finally the school has given him the sack. He had about ten pounds in the world when I found him. He lives in a kind of black hole in a basement full of beetles. When his ten pounds are spent, I suppose he 'll just quietly die there."
Badgery held up a white hand. ”

“ Their property was large, they were rich; and with the growth of industrialism their riches also grew. Villages on their estate turned into manufacturing towns, unsuspected coal was discovered beneath the surface of their barren moorlands. ”

“ It will be fun to see them squabbling." Badgery laughed. Then his face darkened once again. "Still," he added, "it 'll be a very poor second best to my frescoes. You 'll stay to dinner, of course."
"Well, since you suggest it. Thank's very much."
The Tillotson Banquet was fixed to take place about three weeks later. Spode, who had charge of the arrangements, proved himself an excellent organizer. He secured the big banqueting-room at the Café Bomba and was successful in bullying and cajoling the manager into giving fifty persons dinner at twelve shillings a head, including wine. ”

“ Can't you see it in the papers? I'd make a stunt of it in 'The World's Review.' That ought to bring in the snobs."
"And we 'll invite a lot of artists and critics—all the ones who can't stand one another. ”