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Updated: May 16, 2025
There is a mass of real superstition upon these points, a belief in a magic purity, in magic personalities who can say: My strength is as the strength of ten Because my heart is pure, and wonderful clairvoyant innocents like the young man in Mr. Kipling's "Finest Story in the World."
On thy knees and draw the bow; bid the shrilling arrow go; In the empty mocking thicket plunge the spear; But thy hands are loosed and weak, and the blood has left thy cheek It is Fear, O Little Hunter, it is Fear! RUDYARD KIPLING'S Song of the Little Hunter.
But it is not easy for the student to discover, or for the critic to suggest, how a man in his early twenties may develop such a wise insight into human life as is displayed, for example, in Mr. Kipling's "Without Benefit of Clergy." A few suggestions may, perhaps, be offered; but they must be considered merely as suggestions, and must not be overvalued.
Kipling has wrought a miracle of transformation with Tommy Atkins. General Sir George Younghusband, in a recent book, A Soldier's Memories, says, "I had never heard the words or expressions that Rudyard Kipling's soldiers used. Many a time did I ask my brother officers whether they had ever heard them. No, never.
Don't think I mean to loff," Says I, like a toff, "Where d'you mean to sleep tonight? God made this grass for go'ff." His masterpiece, The Barrel-Organ, has something of Kipling's rollicking music, with less noise and more refinement. Out of the mechanical grinding of the hand organ, with the accompaniment of city omnibuses, we get the very breath of spring in almost intolerable sweetness.
When Bok read the manuscript, he was delighted; he had for some time been reading Kipling's work with enthusiasm, and he saw at once that here was one of the author's best tales.
Kipling's own attitude, as one reads The Young British Soldier, with a verse like If your wife should go wrong with a comrade, be loth To shoot when you catch 'em you'll swing, on my oath! Make 'im take 'er and keep 'er; that's hell for them both, And you're shut o' the curse of a soldier. That seems to me fairly to represent the level of Mr.
Kipling's "They" is the greater story because it defends itself from being understood by those it is not really for. In exhibiting the subtler and more delicate phases of human experience, the novel far transcends the drama. The drama, at its deepest, is more poignant; but the novel, at its highest, is more exquisite.
Besides these three, there was "Alice in Wonderland," and "Æsop's Fables," there was "Robinson Crusoe," and "Little Women," and two volumes of fairy tales in green and gold with a gorgeous peacock on the cover. Eugene Field's poems had come in the last box, with Riley's "Songs of Childhood" and Kipling's jungle tales. Twelve beautiful books, all of Mrs.
Dempsey's lodgers except the things that were not mysterious. One of Mr. Kipling's poems is addressed to "Ye who hold the unwritten clue to all save all unwritten things." The same "readers" are invited to tackle the foregoing assertion. Mr. Brunelli, being impressionable and a Latin, fell to conjugating the verb "amare," with Katy in the objective case, though not because of antipathy.
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