"Don't you know?"
"I must arst you to move on—if you please. . . . I'd strongly advise you to get off 'ome. We've 'ad no special instructions yet—but it's against the law. . . . Clear away there. Clear a-way."
The pavement to his left became invitingly bare, and young Caddles went slowly on his way. But now his tongue was loosened.
"I don't understand," he muttered. "I don't understand." He would appeal brokenly to the changing crowd that ever trailed beside him and behind. "I didn't know there were such places as this. What are all you people doing with yourselves? What's it all for? What is it all for and where do I come in?"
He had already begotten a new catch word. Young men of wit and spirit addressed each other in this manner, "Ullo Arry O'Cock. Wot's it all for? Eh? Wot's it all bloomin' well for?"
To which there sprang up a competing variety of repartees, for the most part impolite. The most popular and best adapted for general use appears to have been "Shut it," or, in a voice of scornful detachment———
"Garn!"
III
What was he seeking? He wanted something the pigmy world did not give, some end which the pigmy world prevented his attaining, prevented even his seeing clearly, which he was never to see clearly. It was the gigantic social side of this lonely dumb monster crying out for his race, for the things akin to him,
254
