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Updated: June 27, 2025
"He's a trifle a trifle whimsical on some subjects," explained my father, on my repeating this conversation. "There are a certain class of men," explained my mother "you will meet with them more as you grow up who talk for talking's sake. They don't know what they mean. And nobody else does either." "But what would you have?" argued Dr.
"I don't think that would improve matters," said the secretary, glad of a discussion to relieve the tedium. She too was growing nervous. "Nonsense! Of course it would." Constance launched into argument, and talked for talking's sake. She knew that her companion was not listening. "It's four o'clock," exclaimed Lady Ogram presently. "There may be an accident with the brougham.
It was almost with a whoop that the invitation was accepted by his eager hearers, and the minister smiled with gratification at their enthusiasm. "Now that's all the talking I'm going to do tonight," he said. "And as talking's rather dry work, I'm going to have a little refreshment. Will you boys join me?" Would they join him?
"That's no reason why he shouldn't be a genius." "He's a Frenchman." "Haven't Frenchmen genius?" asked the girl. Carnac laughed. "Why, of course. Barode Barouche yes, he's a great one: he can think, he can write, and he can talk; and the talking's the best that he does though I've not heard him speak, but I've read his speeches." "Doesn't he make good laws at Ottawa?"
"Talking's cheap, and I have several dozen blamed big firs to saw up, as well as Waynefleet's tonic to mix. He'll come along for it when that prick I gave him commences to heal." There were four wet and weary men in the Siwash canoe that Nasmyth, who crouched astern, had just shot across the whirling pool with the back feathering stroke of his paddle which is so difficult to acquire.
He shook his head knowingly, and said that sort of thing wouldn't go down. When he was at length convinced, he danced with rage. He became cynical. He had no patience with girls. They talked for talking's sake. It meant nothing.
"I dare say you won't understand," Dick answered in measured tones, "but the Dean's got sense enough to say nothing. Talking's no use, is it?" Few indeed shared the Dean's wisdom, or the somewhat limited view that talking is only to be practised when it chances to be useful. Are we never to discuss the obvious or to deplore the inevitable?
"Talking's work," complained Archie. "That's redundancy." "It is, when you keep interrupting," cried Bertha Davis. "Go on, Catherine. Don't mind him. Just how can we work?" "Well, the room will have to be cleaned thoroughly, and we girls can do most of that if the boys will help a little. And there will have to be some plain shelves put up for the books."
Our ways are not your ways, and there shall be to you many strange things. Nay, from what you have told me of your experiences already, you know something of what strange things there may be." This led to much conversation, and as it was evident that he wanted to talk, if only for talking's sake, I asked him many questions regarding things that had already happened to me or come within my notice.
"I am a paint factory drummer who has never had the opportunities you have enjoyed, but so long as we're up here in the wilds the only thing that counts is that we're men with the same weaknesses and feelings. Because that's so, and you're hard up against it, I and my partner mean to see you through." "You can't unless I'm willing. Man, don't you realize that talking's of no use?
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