pebblewick boasted an enterprising evening paper of its own, called “the pebblewick globe,” and it was the great vaunt of the editor’s life that he had got out an edition announcing the mystery of the vanishing sign-board, almost simultaneously with its vanishing. in the rows that followed sandwich men found no little protection from the blows indiscriminately given them behind and before, in the large wooden boards they carried inscribed:

the vanishing pub

pebblewick’s fairy tale

special

and the paper contained a categorical and mainly correct account of what had happened, or what seemed to have happened, to the eyes of the amazed garge and his crowd of sympathisers. “george burn, carpenter of this town, with samuel gripes, drayman in the service of messrs. jay and gubbins, brewers, together with a number of other well-known residents, passed by the new building erected on the west beach for various forms of entertainment and popularly called the small universal hall. seeing outside it one of the old inn-signs now so rare, they drew the quite proper inference that the place retained the license to sell alcoholic liquors, which so many other places in this neighborhood have recently lost. the persons inside, however, appear to have denied all knowledge of the fact, and when the party (after some regrettable scenes in which no life was lost) came out on the beach again, it was found that the inn-sign had been destroyed or stolen. all parties were quite sober, and had indeed obtained no opportunity to be anything else. the mystery is underlying inquiry.”

but this comparatively realistic record was local and spontaneous, and owed not a little to the accidental honesty of the editor. moreover, evening papers are often more honest than morning papers, because they are written by ill-paid and hardworked underlings in a great hurry, and there is no time for more timid people to correct them. by the time the morning papers came out next day a faint but perceptible change had passed over the story of the vanishing sign-board. in the daily paper which had the largest circulation and the most influence in that part of the world, the problem was committed to a gentleman known by what seemed to the non-journalistic world the singular name of hibbs however. it had been affixed to him in jest in connection with the almost complicated caution with which all his public criticisms were qualified at every turn; so that everything came to depend upon the conjunctions; upon “but” and “yet” and “though” and similar words. as his salary grew larger (for editors and proprietors like that sort of thing) and his old friends fewer (for the most generous of friends cannot but feel faintly acid at a success which has in it nothing of the infectious flavour of glory) he grew more and more to value himself as a diplomatist; a man who always said the right thing. but he was not without his intellectual nemesis; for at last he became so very diplomatic as to be darkly and densely unintelligible. people who knew him had no difficulty in believing that what he had said was the right thing, the tactful thing, the thing that should save the situation; but they had great difficulty in discovering what it was. in his early days he had had a great talent for one of the worst tricks of modern journalism, the trick of dismissing the important part of a question as if it could wait, and appearing to get to business on the unimportant part of it. thus, he would say, “whatever we may think of the rights and wrongs of the vivisection of pauper children, we shall all agree that it should only be done, in any event, by fully qualified practitioners.” but in the later and darker days of his diplomacy, he seemed rather to dismiss the important part of a subject, and get to grips with some totally different subject, following some timid and elusive train of associations of his own. in his late bad manner, as they say of painters, he was just as likely to say, “whatever we may think of the rights and wrongs of the vivisection of pauper children, no progressive mind can doubt that the influence of the vatican is on the decline.” his nickname had stuck to him in honour of a paragraph he was alleged to have written when the american president was wounded by a bullet fired by a lunatic in new orleans, and which was said to have run, “the president passed a good night and his condition is greatly improved. the assassin is not, however, a german, as was at first supposed.” men stared at that mysterious conjunction till they wanted to go mad and to shoot somebody themselves.

hibbs however was a long, lank man, with straight, yellowish hair and a manner that was externally soft and mild but secretly supercilious. he had been, when at cambridge, a friend of leveson, and they had both prided themselves on being moderate politicians. but if you have had your hat smashed over your nose by one who has very recently described himself as a “law-abidin’ man,” and if you have had to run for your life with one coat-tail, and encouraged to further bodily activity by having irregular pieces of a corrugated iron roof thrown after you by men more energetic than yourself, you will find you emerge with emotions which are not solely those of a moderate politician. hibbs however had already composed a leaderette on the pebblewick incident, which rather pointed to the truth of the story, so far as his articles ever pointed to anything. his motives for veering vaguely in this direction were, as usual, complex. he knew the millionaire who owned the paper had a hobby of spiritualism, and something might always come out of not suppressing a marvellous story. he knew that two at least of the prosperous artisans or small tradesmen who had attested the tale were staunch supporters of the party. he knew that lord ivywood must be mildly but not effectually checked; for lord ivywood was of the other party. and there could be no milder or less effectual way of checking him than by allowing the paper to lend at least a temporary credit to a well-supported story that came from outside, and certainly had not been (like so many stories) created in the office. amid all these considerations had hibbs however steered his way to a more or less confirmatory article, when the sudden apparition of j. leveson, secretary, in the sub-editor’s room with a burst collar and broken eye-glasses, led mr. hibbs into a long, private conversation with him and a comparative reversal of his plans. but of course he did not write a new article; he was not of that divine order who make all things new. he chopped and changed his original article in such a way that it was something quite beyond the most bewildering article he had written in the past; and is still prized by those highly cultured persons who collect the worst literature of the world.

it began, indeed, with the comparatively familiar formula, “whether we take the more lax or the more advanced view of the old disputed problem of the morality or immorality of the wooden sign-board as such, we shall all agree that the scenes enacted at pebblewick were very discreditable, to most, though not all, concerned.” after that, tact degenerated into a riot of irrelevance. it was a wonderful article. the reader could get from it a faint glimpse of mr. hibbs’s opinion on almost every other subject except the subject of the article. the first half of the next sentence made it quite clear that mr. hibbs (had he been present) would not have lent his active assistance to the massacre of st. bartholomew or the massacres of september. but the second half of the sentence suggested with equal clearness that, since these two acts were no longer, as it were, in contemplation, and all attempts to prevent them would probably arrive a little late, he felt the warmest friendship for the french nation. he merely insisted that his friendship should never be mentioned except in the french language. it must be called an “entente” in the language taught to tourists by waiters. it must on no account be called an “understanding,” in a language understanded of the people. from the first half of the sentence following it might safely be inferred that mr. hibbs had read milton, or at least the passage about sons of belial; from the second half that he knew nothing about bad wine, let alone good. the next sentence began with the corruption of the roman empire and contrived to end with dr. clifford. then there was a weak plea for eugenics; and a warm plea against conscription, which was not true eugenics. that was all; and it was headed “the riot at pebblewick.”

yet some injustice would be done to hibbs however if we concealed the fact that this chaotic leader was followed by quite a considerable mass of public correspondence. the people who write to newspapers are, it may be supposed, a small, eccentric body, like most of those that sway a modern state. but at least, unlike the lawyers, or the financiers, or the members of parliament, or the men of science, they are people of all kinds scattered all over the country, of all classes, counties, ages, sects, sexes, and stages of insanity. the letters that followed hibbs’s article are still worth looking up in the dusty old files of his paper.

a dear old lady in the densest part of the midlands wrote to suggest that there might really have been an old ship wrecked on the shore, during the proceedings. “mr. leveson may have omitted to notice it, or, at that late hour of the evening, it may have been mistaken for a sign-board, especially by a person of defective sight. my own sight has been failing for some time; but i am still a diligent reader of your paper.” if mr. hibbs’s diplomacy had left one nerve in his soul undrugged, he would have laughed, or burst into tears, or got drunk, or gone into a monastery over a letter like that. as it was, he measured it with a pencil, and decided that it was just too long to get into the column.

then there was a letter from a theorist, and a theorist of the worst sort. there is no great harm in the theorist who makes up a new theory to fit a new event. but the theorist who starts with a false theory and then sees everything as making it come true is the most dangerous enemy of human reason. the letter began like a bullet let loose by the trigger. “is not the whole question met by ex. iv. 3? i enclose pamphlets in which i have proved the point quite plainly, and which none of the bishops or the so-called free church ministers have attempted to answer. the connection between the rod or pole and the snake so clearly indicated in scripture is no less clear in this case. it is well known that those who follow after strong drink often announce themselves as having seen a snake. is it not clear that those unhappy revellers beheld it in its transformed state as a pole; see also deut. xviii. 2. if our so-called religious leaders,” etc. the letter went on for thirty-three pages and hibbs was perhaps justified in this case in thinking the letter rather too long.

then there was the scientific correspondent who said—might it not be due to the acoustic qualities of the hall? he had never believed in the corrugated iron hall. the very word “hall” itself (he added playfully) was often so sharpened and shortened by the abrupt echoes of those repeated metallic curves, that it had every appearance of being the word “hell,” and had caused many theological entanglements, and some police prosecutions. in the light of these facts, he wished to draw the editor’s attention to some very curious details about this supposed presence or absence of an inn-sign. it would be noted that many of the witnesses, and especially the most respectable of them, constantly refer to something that is supposed to be outside. the word “outside” occurs at least five times in the depositions of the complaining persons. surely by all scientific analogy we may infer that the unusual phrase “inn-sign” is an acoustic error for “inside.” the word “inside” would so naturally occur in any discussion either about the building or the individual, when the debate was of a hygienic character. this letter was signed “medical student,” and the less intelligent parts of it were selected for publication in the paper.

then there was a really humorous man, who wrote and said there was nothing at all inexplicable or unusual about the case. he himself (he said) had often seen a sign-board outside a pub when he went into it, and been quite unable to see it when he came out. this letter (the only one that had any quality of literature) was sternly set aside by mr. hibbs.

then came a cultured gentleman with a light touch, who merely made a suggestion. had anyone read h. g. wells’s story about the kink in space? he contrived, indescribably, to suggest that no one had even heard of it except himself; or, perhaps, of mr. wells either. the story indicated that men’s feet might be in one part of the world and their eyes in another. he offered the suggestion for what it was worth. the particular pile of letters on which hibbs however threw it, showed only too clearly what it was worth.

then there was a man, of course, who called it all a plot of frenzied foreigners against britain’s shore. but as he did not make it quite clear whether the chief wickedness of these aliens had lain in sticking the sign up or in pulling it down, his remarks (the remainder of which referred exclusively to the conversational misconduct of an italian ice-cream man, whose side of the case seemed insufficiently represented) carried the less weight.

and then, last but the reverse of least, there plunged in all the people who think they can solve a problem they cannot understand by abolishing everything that has contributed to it. we all know these people. if a barber has cut his customer’s throat because the girl has changed her partner for a dance or donkey ride on hampstead heath, there are always people to protest against the mere institutions that led up to it. this would not have happened if barbers were abolished, or if cutlery were abolished, or if the objection felt by girls to imperfectly grown beards were abolished, or if the girls were abolished, or if heaths and open spaces were abolished, or if dancing were abolished, or if donkeys were abolished. but donkeys, i fear, will never be abolished.

there were plenty of such donkeys in the common land of this particular controversy. some made it an argument against democracy, because poor garge was a carpenter. some made it an argument against alien immigration, because misysra ammon was a turk. some proposed that ladies should no longer be admitted to any lectures anywhere, because they had constituted a slight and temporary difficulty at this one, without the faintest fault of their own. some urged that all holiday resorts should be abolished; some urged that all holidays should be abolished. some vaguely denounced the sea-side; some, still more vaguely, proposed to remove the sea. all said that if this or that, stones or sea-weed or strange visitors or bad weather or bathing machines were swept away with a strong hand, this which had happened would not have happened. they only had one slight weakness, all of them; that they did not seem to have the faintest notion of what had happened. and in this they were not inexcusable. nobody did know what had happened; nobody knows it to this day, of course, or it would be unnecessary to write this story. no one can suppose this story is written from any motive save that of telling the plain, humdrum truth.

that queer confused cunning which was the only definable quality possessed by hibbs however had certainly scored a victory so far, for the tone of the weekly papers followed him, with more intelligence and less trepidation; but they followed him. it seemed more and more clear that some kind of light and sceptical explanation was to be given of the whole business, and that the whole business was to be dropped.

the story of the sign-board and the ethical chapel of corrugated iron was discussed and somewhat disparaged in all the more serious and especially in the religious weeklies, though the low church papers seemed to reserve their distaste chiefly for the sign-board; and the high church papers chiefly for the chapel. all agreed that the combination was incongruous, and most treated it as fabulous. the only intellectual organs which seemed to think it might have happened were the spiritualist papers, and their interpretation had not that solidity which would have satisfied mr. george.

it was not until almost a year after that it was felt in philosophical circles that the last word had been said on the matter. an estimate of the incident and of its bearing on natural and supernatural history occurred in professor widge’s celebrated “historicity of the petro-piscatorial phenomena”; which so profoundly affected modern thought when it came out in parts in the hibbert journal. everyone remembers professor widge’s main contention, that the modern critic must apply to the thaumaturgics of the lake of tiberias the same principle of criticism which dr. bunk and others have so successfully applied to the thaumaturgics of the cana narrative: “authorities as final as pink and toscher,” wrote the professor, “have now shown with an emphasis that no emancipated mind is entitled to question, that the aqua-vinic thaumaturgy at cana is wholly inconsistent with the psychology of the ‘master of the feast,’ as modern research has analysed it; and indeed with the whole judæo-aramaic psychology at that stage of its development, as well as being painfully incongruous with the elevated ideals of the ethical teacher in question. but as we rise to higher levels of moral achievement, it will probably be found necessary to apply the canaic principle to other and later events in the narrative. this principle has, of course, been mainly expounded by huscher in the sense that the whole episode is unhistorical, while the alternative theory, that the wine was non-alcoholic and was naturally infused into the water, can claim on its side the impressive name of minns. it is clear that if we apply the same alternative to the so-called miraculous draught of fishes we must either hold with gilp, that the fishes were stuffed representations of fishes artificially placed in the lake (see the rev. y. wyse’s “christo-vegetarianism as a world-system,” where this position is forcibly set forth), or we must, on the huscherian hypothesis, deprive the piscatorial narrative of all claim to historicity whatever.

“the difficulty felt by the most daring critics (even pooke) in adopting this entirely destructive attitude, is the alleged improbability of so detailed a narrative being founded on so slight a phrase as the anti-historical critics refer it to. it is urged by pooke, with characteristic relentless reasoning, that according to huscher’s theory a metaphorical but at least noticeable remark, such as, ‘i will make you fishers of men,’ was expanded into a realistic chronicle of events which contains no mention, even in the passages evidently interpolated, of any men actually found in the nets when they were hauled up out of the sea; or, more properly, lagoon.

“it must appear presumptuous or even bad taste for anyone in the modern world to differ on any subject from pooke; but i would venture to suggest that the very academic splendour and unique standing of the venerable professor (whose ninety-seventh birthday was so beautifully celebrated in chicago last year), may have forbidden him all but intuitive knowledge of how errors arise among the vulgar. i crave pardon for mentioning a modern case known to myself (not indeed by personal presence, but by careful study of all the reports) which presents a curious parallel to such ancient expansions of a text into an incident, in accordance with huscher’s law.

“it occurred at pebblewick, in the south of england. the town had long been in a state of dangerous religious excitement. the great religious genius who has since so much altered our whole attitude to the religions of the world, misysra ammon, had been lecturing on the sands to thousands of enthusiastic hearers. their meetings were often interrupted, both by children’s services run on the most ruthless lines of orthodoxy and by the league of the red rosette, the formidable atheist and anarchist organization. as if this were not enough to swell the whirlpool of fanaticism, the old popular controversy between the milnian and the complete sublapsarians broke out again on the fated beach. it is natural to conjecture that in the thickening atmosphere of theology in pebblewick, some controversialist quoted the text ‘an evil and adulterous generation seek for a sign. but no sign shall be given it save the sign of the prophet jonas.’

“a mind like that of pooke will find it hard to credit, but it seems certain that the effect of this text on the ignorant peasantry of southern england was actually to make them go about looking for a sign, in the sense of those old tavern signs now so happily disappearing. the ‘sign of the prophet jonas,’ they somehow translated in their stunted minds into a sign-board of the ship out of which jonah was thrown. they went about literally looking for ‘the sign of the ship,’ and there are some cases of their suffering smail’s hallucination and actually seeing it. the whole incident is a curious parallel to the gospel narrative and a triumphant vindication of huscher’s law.”

lord ivywood paid a public compliment to professor widge, saying that he had rolled back from his country what might have been an ocean of superstitions. but, indeed, poor hibbs had struck the first and stunning blow that scattered the brains of all men.