I told her I might not be back for a month.
She said it didn't matter; she had plenty of time, and would wait
for me.
The family entreat me to hurry home.
I ate a very fair dinner - "laid in a good stock of ballast," as my
seafaring friend would have said; wished "Good-bye!" to everybody,
and kissed Aunt Emma; promised to take care of myself - a promise
which, please Heaven, I will faithfully keep, cost me what it may -
hailed a cab and started.
I reached Victoria some time before B. I secured two corner seats
in a smoking-carriage, and then paced up and down the platform
waiting for him.
When men have nothing else to occupy their minds, they take to
thinking. Having nothing better to do until B. arrived, I fell to
musing.
What a wonderful piece of Socialism modern civilisation has become!-
-not the Socialism of the so-called Socialists - a system modelled
apparently upon the methods of the convict prison - a system under
which each miserable sinner is to be compelled to labour, like a
beast of burden, for no personal benefit to himself, but only for
the good of the community - a world where there are to be no men, but
only numbers - where there is to be no ambition and no hope and no
fear, - but the Socialism of free men, working side by side in the
common workshop, each one for the wage to which his skill and energy
entitle him; the Socialism of responsible, thinking individuals, not
of State-directed automata.
Here was I, in exchange for the result of some of my labour, going
to be taken by Society for a treat, to the middle of Europe and
back. Railway lines had been laid over the whole 700 or 800 miles
to facilitate my progress; bridges had been built, and tunnels made;
an army of engineers, and guards, and signal-men, and porters, and
clerks were waiting to take charge of me, and to see to my comfort
and safety. All I had to do was to tell Society (here represented
by a railway booking-clerk) where I wanted to go, and to step into a
carriage; all the rest would be done for me. Books and papers had
been written and printed; so that if I wished to beguile the journey
by reading, I could do so. At various places on the route,
thoughtful Society had taken care to be ready for me with all kinds
of refreshment (her sandwiches might be a little fresher, but maybe
she thinks new bread injurious for me). When I am tired of
travelling and want to rest, I find Society waiting for me with
dinner and a comfortable bed, with hot and cold water to wash in and
towels to wipe upon. Wherever I go, whatever I need, Society, like
the enslaved genii of some Eastern tale, is ready and anxious to
help me, to serve me, to do my bidding, to give me enjoyment and
pleasure.
