CHAPTER V
THE EQUATOR
The Earth is self-centred. Poised on an imaginary toe, she pirouettes round her self-centre, at the rate of over a thousand miles an hour.
We say imaginary toe because the Earth, owing to the enormous size of her waist, has never been able to see it.
To anyone with a waist measurement of twenty-five thousand miles the very existence of toes is purely problematical.
To wear an actual belt round a waist of such dimensions would be impossible even if it could be of any use. Instead, therefore, the Earth wears round her middle an imaginary line called the Equator.
To give this imaginary belt some excuse for existence we have depicted the Earth in an imaginary ballet skirt, which without in any way hampering her movements complies with the strict regulations pertaining to feminine attire.
Being self-centred, the Earth has naturally an exaggerated sense of self-esteem.
Other Spheres of equal or greater importance are referred to as “Luminaries” and supposed to exist chiefly for the purpose of furnishing light when the Sun and Moon are otherwise engaged.
Oh would some Power the giftie gie her
To see, as other Planets see her!
QUESTIONS
Can an imaginary line be said to exist?
If not, why does it need an excuse for existence?
CHAPTER VI
THE EARTH’S CRUST
Matter-of-fact Geologists speak of the Earth’s Crust as if there were only one Crust.
Thoughtful people (like ourselves) who can read between imaginary lines, know that there are (as in a pie) two Crusts, the Upper Crust and the Under Crust.
The Upper Crust is pleasantly situated on the top and is rich and agreeable and much sought after.
The Under Crust is soggy and disagreeable. The only apparent reason for its existence is to hold up the Upper Crust.
To quote the eminent Nonsensologist Gelett Burgess —
The Upper Crust is light as snow
And gay with sugar-rime;
The Under Crust must stay below,
It has a horrid time.
When in the course of time the Upper Crust becomes too rich and heavy for the popular taste, the Social Pie flops over and the Under Crust becomes the Upper Crust.
These periodic flip-flops of the Social Pie are called Revolutions.
You would think that a Revolving Pie would be a disturbing thing to have in one’s system, but the Giddy Globe doesn’t seem to mind it in the least.
Balanced on an imaginary toe, she continues to pirouette at the rate of a thousand miles an hour, just as if nothing were the matter.
The latest specimen of Acrobatic Pastry is after a Russian recipe.
The Bolshevik Pie has no Upper Crust at all and is declared by the leading Chefs of Europe to be unfit for human consumption, but the proof of the Pie is in the eating, how would you like to try just a —2
Oh, very well! We never did care much for pie anyway, not even for breakfast.
CHAPTER VII
THE TEMPERATURE OF THE GLOBE
In spite of incessant and violent exercise, the Giddy Globe (as we have remarked before) is unable to keep comfortably warm all over.
Her Temperature varies from intense cold at her upper and lower extremities to fever heat in the region of her equatorial diaphragm.
Ancient Geographers indicated these variations of temperature by means of Zones.
The Term Zone is derived from the Greek word ζωνη a Belt or Girdle, and a Girdle in the days of the First Geography Book was the principal (if not the only) garment of a well dressed person.
Today, however, the Girdle is no longer accepted as a complete costume.
No modern Costumer would countenance such a “model,” it would be too easy to copy and consequently unprofitable.
Even the “Knee-plus-ultra” of Newport or Palm Beach Society would hesitate to pose for the Sunday Supplement Photographer in a one-piece Bathing Girdle.
You might explore the World of Dress, from the Land of the Midnight Follies to the Uttermost parts of Greenwich Village and find nothing exactly like it.
It is on its way, to be sure, but it will never be fashionable until —
The two extremes of décolleté
Of Ballroom and of Bathing Beach
Here meet in a bewildering way
And mingle all the charms of each.
Why, then, in this up-to-date Geography Book, should we depict the Giddy Globe in an obsolete hoop skirt of imaginary Zones?
In striving to answer the question, we have hit upon a pleasing compromise.
At least it is up-to-date.
A. and E. are the two extremities of the Giddy Globe, which are quite bare.
They correspond to the Frigid Zones.
C. is the Corset, which being hot and uncomfortable corresponds to the Torrid.
D. is – that is to say are —3
CHAPTER VIII
THE AGE OF THE GLOBE
Some people are sensitive about their ages. The Giddy Globe has never told us hers.
Rude men of science, after careful examination, declare she can’t be a day under five billion years old.
Theologians, ever tactful in feminine matters, set her down as a shrinking young thing of barely four thousand summers.
Real delicacy of feeling goes with the bulging tum rather than with the bulging forehead; who ever saw a thin Bishop or a fat man of science!
Happy the man with the bulging Tum,
Who smiles and smiles and is never glum! —
But alas for the man with the bulging brow,
If he wanted to smile, he wouldn’t know how!
If the Giddy Globe asked us to guess her age, we should say, without a moment’s hesitation, “Whatever it is you certainly don’t look it!”
Astronomers may say what they like, a Planet is as old as it looks, especially if it is a Lady-Planet, and we have seen ours when she didn’t look a June day over sixteen! and, not having a bulging forehead, we told her so!
Astronomers think themselves so wise, but what do they know about the sex of the Planets?
With the exception of Mother Earth and old Sol Phœbus, – nothing!
If you asked an Astronomer whether the Pleiad girls were really the daughters of Atlas, or what Jupiter was doing with eight Moons (if they were Moons), he would think you were trifling with him.
But is it not possible that the old Greek tales were the garbled gossip of an age-forgotten science of which we have only the A.B.C.?
If it is Love that makes the world go round (and who can prove that it isn’t?), what makes the other Planets go round?
How about the movements of the Heavenly Bodies?
How about —4
Quite right! Quite right! how we do run on!
CHAPTER IX
THE FACE OF THE GLOBE
There are no good photographs of the Giddy Globe; she refuses to sit.
Imagine attempting to photograph an obese and flighty Spheroid who spends her time pirouetting round in a circle with all her might and main.
Perhaps it is to avoid the photographer that the Earth spins, and not merely to reduce her girth as we hinted elsewhere.
In these days such a strenuous evasion of publicity is suspicious.
Where does she come from?
Where is she going?
She refuses to answer, she will not even state her business or tell her real name.
For æons (quite a number of æons) this Giddy one has been going round under various male and female aliases such as – Cosmos, Mother Earth, The World, Mrs. Grundy, the Footstool, the Terrestrial Globe.
If you look up her record you will find the following press notices —
“The Earth’s a thief.”
Timon of Athens.
“Earth’s bitter.”
Wordsworth.
“This distracted Globe.”
Hamlet.
“This tough World.”
King Lear.
“Naughty World.”
Merchant of Venice.
“This World is given to Lying.”
Henry IV.
“The World is too much with us.”
Wordsworth.
“The World is grown so bad.”
Richard III.
“The narrow World.”
Julius Cæsar.
“The World is not thy friend.”
Romeo and Juliet.
“The World’s a bubble.”
Bacon.
“This World is all a fleeting show.”
Moore.
“The World was not worthy.”
St. Paul.
“The World’s a tragedy.”
Horace Walpole.
“This bleak World.”
Moore.
“The weary weight of all this unintelligible World.”
Wordsworth.
“A World of vile ill-favoured faults.”
Merry Wives of Windsor.
“Stale, flat and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this World.”
Hamlet.
“This dim spot that men call Earth.”
Milton.
“The wicked World.”
W. S. Gilbert.
It is possible that the Giddy Globe has read the above clippings and, realizing that she has been discovered, spins round with all her might to avoid being photographed for the Rogues’ Gallery of the Universe.
Appearances are certainly against her.
When I am moved to contemplate
The rude and unregenerate state
Of that rampageous reprobate
The World at large,
And as I mark its stony phiz
And see it whoop and whirl and whiz,
I can but cry – O Lord, why is
The World at large?