If Naturalists Go To Heaven (about Which

I Said I 'liked' Being Half-educated; You Were So Much More 'surprised' At Everything When You Were Ignorant.

Right In The Hart Of The Africn Jungel A Small Wite Man Lives. Now There Is One Extraordinary Fact About Him That He Is The Frind Of All Animals.

I Can't Be Expected To Produce Deathless Prose In An Atmosphere Of Gloom And Eucalyptus.

Among The Myrtles The Mantids Moved, Lightly, Carefully, Swaying Slightly, The Quintessence Of Evil. They Were Lank And Green, With Chinless Faces And Monstrous Globular Eyes, Frosty Gold, With An Expression Of Intense, Predatory Madness In Them. The Crooked Arms, With Their Fringes Of Sharp Teeth, Would Be Raised In Mock Supplication To The Insect World, So Humble, So Fervent, Trembling Slightly When A Butterfly Flew Too Close.

Tea Would Arrive, The Cakes Squatting On Cushions Of Cream, Toast In A Melting Shawl Of Butter, Cups Agleam And A Faint Wisp Of Steam Rising From The Teapot Shawl.