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Updated: June 1, 2025
If left to himself, a man is most likely to use only the mischievous half of the force the half which invents imaginary ailments for him and cultivates them; and if he is one of these very wise people, he is quite likely to scoff at the beneficent half of the force and deny its existence. And so, to heal or help that man, two imaginations are required: his own and some outsider's.
He calls himself a jawman "a mere jawman" as he modestly puts it, but in point of fact he is too young and too poor to confine himself to a specialty, and there is nothing surgical which Hargrave has not the skill and the audacity to do. "Before, after, and during," murmurs the general practitioner in answer to some interpolation of the outsider's.
It's a long, long way to the day of a segregating out and in of Mendelian unit-characters. Besides, this is a strange world of choices. Nobody is to be considered worthy of parenthood until he has fallen in love properly. Nobody who would permit an outsider's decision as to when he was properly in love would be worth thirty cents as a parent.
It will be a pretty game, in which, from an outsider's point of view, I alone can be the loser. If I win I shall consider myself amply repaid. If I lose well," with an expressive movement of the hands, "I will take my chance as a sportsman should. I love your niece, John, and will risk everything to win her. Now, think of it. It will be the sweetest, prettiest gamble. And, too, think of the stake.
Westlake had pronounced Carol a "very sweet, bright, cultured young woman," and Brad Bemis, the tinsmith at Clark's Hardware Store, had declared that she was "easy to work for and awful easy to look at." But Carol could not yet take her in. She resented this outsider's knowledge of her shame. Vida was not too long tolerant. She hinted, "You're a great brooder, child. Buck up now.
There was contemptuous pity in the outsider's look as it dwelt a moment upon me before he replied: "The man was myself." And then he condescended to borrow a quarter from me. Tommy McGuffy was growing old. The skin of his attenuated face was so shrunk and so stretched from wrinkle to wrinkle that it seemed narrowly to escape breaking.
But Captain Kettle scouts the idea that he was stirred by any such feeble, womanish motives. Kettle was a poet himself, and with the kinship of species he felt the poetic fire glowing out from the person of this Mr. Hamilton. At least, so he says; and if he has deceived himself on the matter, which, from an outsider's point of view, seems likely, I am sure the error is quite unconscious.
The outsider's work is unquestionably valuable; so valuable that it may fairly be likened to the essential work performed by the engineer when he handles the throttle and turns on the steam; the actual power is lodged exclusively in the engine, but if the engine were left alone it would never start of itself.
They were things to be taken for granted, like the curtain and the wings; they had no relation to clothing in the world. Alicia laughed too. After all, they were absurd her outsider's prejudices. She said something like that, and Hilda seemed to soar again for her point of view about the illustrated interviews. "They ARE atrocities," she said.
I go to concerts and theatres; I look at the people in the streets; I even begin to take an outsider's interest in social questions, in the puny dikes, which well-meaning people are trying to raise all round us against the encroaching, devastating labor-troubles of the future. By dint of running away from life, I may end by cutting a much more passable figure in it than before.
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