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Actions and Reactions. It has induced gloom in me; yet a modified gloom. Nearly a quarter of a century has passed since
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Plain Tales from the Hills delighted first Anglo-Indian, and then English society. There was nothing of permanent value in that book, and in my extremest youth I never imagined otherwise. But
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The Story of the Gadsbys impressed me. So did
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Barrack-room Ballads. So did pieces of
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Soldiers Three. So did
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Life's Handicap and
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Many Inventions. So did
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The Jungle Book, despite its wild natural history. And I remember my eagerness for the publication of
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The Seven Seas. I remember going early in the morning to Denny's bookshop to buy it. I remember the crimson piles of it in every bookshop in London. And I remember that I perused it, gulped it down, with deep joy. And I remember the personal anxiety which I felt when Kipling lay very dangerously ill in New York. For a fortnight, then, Kipling's temperature was the most important news of the day. I remember giving a party with a programme of music, in that fortnight, and I began the proceedings by reading aloud the programme, and at the end of the programme instead of
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God Save the Queen, I read,
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God Save Kipling, and everybody cheered.
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Stalky and Co. cooled me, and
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Kim