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The Vision Unspeakable!

Being an entirely imaginary glimpse of Capping in 1937.

(Scene—the Dominion Museum. Seated on a dais, protected with iron bars and furnished with peep-holes, are the Identities of Long Standing, now, however, sitting: Mr. May-call-'em, Mr. Leave-me, Mr. Affair, Prof. Rank-and-green, Prof. Efflorescence, Prof. Hinter, Prof. Influenzie, Prof. Turfy, and others so well known that we had rather not enumerate them. To right and left, more fossils. The latter, however, are in glass cases.

May-call-'em: I must congratulate you, Rank-and-green, on the painstaking way in which you have endeavoured to secure the preservation of the peace. Iron bars—peepholes—Capping Machine—they do you great credit.

Leave-me: Capping Machine? Is that your latest, Professor?

Rank-and-green (modestly): Well, it has not previously made its appearance. The mechanism is really very simple. It is operated by clock-work, and one wind-up does two hundred and fifty students. One arm of the machine proffers the certificate to the graduate, while the other automatically shakes his hand.

Hinter: So that the thing can be operated from the dais without any exposure of either Professors or Council?

Rank-and-green (not deigning to notice the interruption): The idea, I am proud to say, is entirely my own. The machine was designed by Professor Efflorescence. Nothing, you know, is a Physical impossibility to him.

Affair: Don't leave me altogether out of the picture, Rank-and-green. I, too, have been toiling for the elevation to a loftier sphere of this ceremony.

Rank-and-green: I apologise. I am bound to say, Mr. Leave-me, that the credit for the idea of holding the Capping Ceremony in the Museum this year goes entirely to Mr. Affair. Next year he thinks of advocating the Terrace Gaol.

Efflorescence: Gentlemen, if you will pardon me, I should like to point out that the selected students have arrived. (Enter, carefully watched and marshalled by eleven policemen, the ten selected students. They are chosen by the Professorial Board to represent the Undergraduate body at the ceremony. Nine of them have been here before. They enter on tiptoe, with shamelessly sullen faces. The tenth is an innocent lamb whose feet seem to shuffle a lot better because his mouth is open.)

Police Sergeant: Come on 'ere, young feller! Up on your toes' Mind the rules, now. (The ten are herded into their special enclosure.)

Rank-and-green: Professor Efflorescence, will you kindly read aloud to the students the rules relating to the possession of missiles and weapons?

Efflorescence (reading): Students are hereby warned that the bringing into the ceremony of any object, thing, fragment, or particle—

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Rank-and-green: Including fowls and tomatoes!

Efflorescence: Including tomatoes and fowls—

Rank-and-green: You had better say, "White leghorns not excepted."

Efflorescence (frowning): Including white leghorns; or any other conceivable substance or article whatsoever, that may be thrown, fired, released, dropped, exploded, or in any conceivable way brought into contact with any member, or any conceivable part of any member, or any conceivable garment covering any part of any member of the Council or of the Professorial Board,—er—is strictly forbidden.

Rank-and-green: Are you sure they heard the clause relating to white leghorns and tomatoes?

Efflorescence (sulkily): Shall I include Indian Runner ducks and water-melons?

May-call-'em; Professor Hinter, will you kindly search the students in accordance with the regulations? (Prof. Hinter descends.)

Affair: How can he do it? He must be very rash. They are a desperate looking lot of young anarchists, too. Very rash!

Rank-and-green: It is not rashness, Mr. Affair; it is socialism. (Hinter searches the students' pockets.)

Green student (in a hurt whisper): Why do they search us, Professor? Anyone would think they were frightened of us.

Hinter (in a guarded undertone): Quite, quite! Of course, I believe there's an element of truth in that. But—you know (shaking his head significantly)—narrow! Narrow!

Rank-and-green: What is that bulge in that student's pocket, Professor Hinter? It looks to me suspiciously like the outline of a white leghorn.

Hinter: That's the student's pocket handkerchief.

Rank-and-green: You are sure there are no tomatoes wrapped up in it?

Hinter: Not one tomato. (He returns to his seat.)

(Enter the graduates, looking like a line of sheen travelling by single ticket to Ngahauranga, or the Free Discussions Club coming before the Inquisition. The Inquisition is there, without a doubt, and the graduates sit nervously down in front of it. An uproarious silence falls. You could hear a pin drop now, if one of the undergraduates dared to drop it—if!)

(We pass over the speech of the Chairman and others of the Council as matters too deep for words, and come to the real thing. Professor Rank-and-green rises.)

Rank-and-green: Mr. Chairman, Members of the Council and Professorial Board, and graduates—oh! and students of Victoria College!—I think it most fitting, on this joyous occasion—(A groan bursts from the green student. The others have learned by now to hide their suffering; he hasn't. A bitter tear surges down his cheek and lands with a deafening splash on the floor.)

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Rank-and-green: I beg your pardon! Who spoke?

Hinter: One of the students dropped his false teeth, professor.

Rank-and-green (continuing):—to say a few words relating to the ideals of the University. For a young Greek or Roman student, those ideals might have been summed up in our modern word, "self-realization."

(A muffled exclamation from one of the professors. It sounds suspiciously like "Bosh!")

Rank-and-green: I beg your pardon? Someone interrupted me.

Hinter: Professor Turfy was merely ejaculating "Hear, hear!"

Rank-and-green: Pliny tells us the significant story of a young Greek—(He continues. The time is 3.15 p.m.)

* * *

(He continues. The time is 3.35 p.m.)

* * *

(He continues. The time is 3.55 p.m.)

* * *

He concludes. The time is 4 o'clock. The green student is seen to be sleeping peacefully, his mouth wide open, and upon his face the smile of one who has found in death what life and the Professorial Board couldn't give him. The others are asleep, too, but after years of practice in lectures, they look astonishingly wide awake.)

Rank-and-green (outraged): Is that—is that student—asleep, sergeant?

Sergeant (waking up himself at once, with a skill born of long experience in the Police Force): Asleep, is he? (Prodding the green student remorselessly)—'Ere, wake up, you young villain! Fancy goin' to sleep in the middle of the perfesser's nice talk! Why, I ain't educated, and he's had me that worked up I couldn't 'ave stood 'im another minute! (His connection with the law has taught him that there are about four occasions when a lie isn't justified, and he clearly sees that this isn't one of them.)

(One by one everybody wakes up. You can see they are experts at this sort of thing; they look so painfully interested.)

May-call-'em: We shall now proceed with the business of Capping. Will you kindly set your machine in motion, Professor Efflorescence?

(The Capping Machine is set in motion. It works beautifully. One by one the graduates have their certificates handed them, and their right hands heartily wrung, and return to their seats. The machine does exactly sixty-seven to the minute. What is more, it doesn't make any distinctions between women and men!)

Influenzie (quoting Goethe): "How greatly it is all planned!"

Efflorescence: There is not much likelihood of the "Kiss Grandpa" episode of 1926 being repeated, is there?

Rank-and-green (with modest pride): Our motto, gentlemen—"Not touched by human hands."

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Green Student (overhearing him): Why, that's what it says on the packets of "Kornies," isn't it? Breakfast food, I mean.

Sergeant (cuffing his ear): Hold your tongue, will you, young feller?

Green Student (bursting into tears): But—but it isn't original!

Sergeant: And why should it be? Just because there's three kisses on the end of a lot of barrels, there ain't no reason why you shouldn't put 'em at the end of a letter, is there, stoopid ? (The Capping has concluded. The machine, fit as a fiddle after pumping scores of hands, and still itching for more, is shut off. The graduates gather their belongings and prepare for a speedy exit. The professors and Council nudge one another significantly and talk hurriedly in low tones. You can see they are up to some devilment. The Green Student takes out his handkerchief. He is not noticed in the bustle. He proceeds to unfold it. He is still not noticed. He extracts two tomatoes. And eats them!) (At length the Chairman comes nervously forward. The graduates have slipped modestly out. A back door is opened behind the dais. In fact, the stage is set for a get-away—but not by the students.)

May-call-'em (displaying extreme emotion): Students are—students are reminded—(he backs a step or two, then out it comes with a rush)—that a retiring collection will be taken up to defray expenses!

(Exeunt all the professors and Members of the Council within three seconds! The students rise like ten famished wolves. The policemen rise with them, like eleven unfamished ones. The students see that their case is hopeless. As one man, they fall in a dead faint.)

(Enter the caretaker, broom in hand, and carrying a sack. He gazes all round him in bewilderment.)

Caretaker: Why, where's the blooming mess?

Sergeant: What blooming mess, matey?

Caretaker: Old Rank-and-green told me the place 'd be a reg'lar garbage 'eap of white leghorns and tomatoes.

(The caretaker looks at the sergeant; the sergeant looks at the caretaker; they look at one another, in fact, and tap their foreheads understandingly.)

Sergeant (eloquently): These perfessers!

(For the first time in many years, the Museum resounds with uproarious laughter.)