He had no legs that practised not his gait;
And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish,
Became the accents of the valiant;
For those that could speak low and tardily,
Would turn their own perfection to abuse.
To seem like him.
In the case of the top-hat the disappearance is due to the psychology of
the war. The great tragedy has brought us down to the bed-rock of things
and has made us feel somehow that ornament is out of place, and that the
top-hat is a falsity in a world that has become a battlefield. I don't
think women have shared this feeling to the same extent. I am told there
were never so many sealskin coats to be seen as during last winter. But,
perhaps, the women will say that men have been only too glad to use the war
as an excuse for getting rid of an incubus. And they may be right. We had
better not make too great a virtue of what is, after all, a comfortable
change. Let us enjoy it without boasting.
Our enjoyment may be short-lived. We must not be surprised if this
incredible hat returns in triumph with peace.
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