It is not its utility. I have
never heard any one claim that this strange cylinder had that quality. It
is not its comfort It is stiff, it is heavy, it is unmanageable in a wind
and ruined by a shower of rain. It needs as much attention as a peevish
child or a pet dog. It is not even cheap, and when it is disreputable it is
the most disreputable thing on earth. What is the mystery of its strange
persistence? Is it simply a habit that we cannot throw off or is there a
certain snobbishness about it that appeals to the flunkeyism of men? That
is perhaps the explanation. That is perhaps why it has disappeared when
snobbishness is felt to be inconsistent with the world of stern realities
and bitter sorrows in which we live. We are humble and serious and out of
humour with the pretentious vanity of our top-hat.
ON LOSING ONE'S MEMORY
The case of the soldier in the Keighley Hospital who has lost his memory in
the war and has been identified by rival families as a Scotchman, a
Yorkshireman, and so on is one of the most singular personal incidents of
the war.
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