Dull's, so Reverie informed me), "if mebbe he
be referring to one of his own, or that fellow Sloth's devilish fairy
tales? I know one yet he'll eat again some day."
At which remark all laughed consumedly, save Dull.
"Well, one thing Christian had, and none can deny it," said Pliable, a
little hotly, "and that was Imagination? _I_ shan't forget the tales
he was wont to tell: what say you, Superstition?"
Mr. Superstition lifted dark, rather vacant eyes on Pliable. "Yes,
yes," he said: "Flame, and sigh, and lamentation. My God, my God,
gentlemen!"
"Oo-ay, Oo-ay," yelped the voice of Mistrust, startled out of silence.
"Oo-ay," whistled Malice, under his breath.
"Tush, tush!" broke in Obstinate again, and snapped his fingers in the
air. "And what is this precious Imagination? Whither doth it conduct a
man, but to beggary, infamy, and the mad-house? Look ye to it, friend
Pliable! 'Tis a devouring flame; give it but wind and leisure, the
fairest house is ashes."
"Ashes; ashes!" mocked one called Cruelty, who had more than once
taken my attention with his peculiar contortions--"talking of ashes,
what of Love-the-log Faithful, Master Tongue-stump? What of
Love-the-log Faithful?"
At which Liveloose was so extremely amused, the tears stood in his
eyes for laughing.
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