Ultima Thule - John Galsworthy
John Galswothy, the narrator of
the story recalls his old friend Ultima Thule and tells us about his story.
Ultima Thule, an old man always
came in Kensington
Gardens in the afternoons
accompanied by a little girl. They moved about playfully. His dresses did not
indicate any great share of prosperity but his face was quite interesting. It
had a special sort of brightness with waves of silvery hair and the blue eyes.
His cheeks were drawn in and his lips withered.
The narrator made his
acquaintance with him. But one day the narrator saw him coming alone, looking
sad. He sat down on the bench with the narrator and was talking himself in a
sort of whisper. “God cannot be like us”. The narrator asked ‘Why?’ The old man
said that the landlady’s seven years old girl was dead. When the narrator said
that he had seen her looking at the flowers, trees and ducks. He was happy that
the narrator had seen her. He said that she was a good companion to him and
that they were good friends. He regretted saying ‘Things don’t last”.
Music, he said makes one feel
like a bird. He imitated the note of a black bird and it was very perfect.
“Birds and flowers are wonderful things”, he said. All the animals seemed to
him marvelous things. He told the narrator that he was happy, as he had spoken
to him. He added that he made friends of the creatures and flowers.
Next time, the narrator saw him
standing by rails of an enclosure holding a cat. He disliked the boys dragging
that cat with a string. The cat was badly hurt. He remarked that a cat is one
of the most marvelous things in the world. He knew that the cat would die but
he wanted to take it home. He thought that a little kindness might do a great
deal for that. The narrator accompanied him for some distance. The old man’s face
looked so like a mother’s when she is feeding her baby. He hoped that the cat
would look quite differently the following day. He said that he would have to
get in through without his landlady’s notice. He added that he had two or three
stray creatures already at his place. The narrator wanted to accompany him to
his room. He agreed.
As they drew nearer home, the old
man took a newspaper from his pocket and wrapped that round the cat. “She is a
funny woman”, he repeated about his landlady.
When he opened the door, the
narrator saw in the hall a short, thin woman dressed in black with sharp and
bumpy face. Her voice sounded brisk and resolute. She asked him what he had got
with him… (Mr. Thompson?)
Thompson answered: “Newspaper,
Mrs. March”. She told him that he could not take that cat upstairs. The old man
spoke in a determined voice. The narrator asked her if Mr. Thompson lived
there. In the mean while the old man ascended the stairs.
The landlady showing the man
going up said that was Thompson. She expressed her dislike and remarked that he
was unbearable. She said he was good but he has no sense of anything.
Mr. Thompson himself was
half-starving but he fed the stray animals. The landlady asked the narrator to
advise him.
Thompson’s room was fairly large
with a bare floor. The place smelt of soap and a little beasts and birds.
Besides the new cat, there were three other cats and four birds they were all
invalids. The birds in the cage had perched.
Thompson told the narrator that
the birds would go after if they were mended. He spoke about them dearly. To
him all those birds and cats seemed to be marvelous.
The landlady had stood still at
the bottom of the stairs and asked the narrator if he had met Thompson she
added that she didn’t know why she kept him of course he was kind to her little
girl. The narrator saw tears in the landlady’s eyes.
The landlady had kept him as a
tenant but his keeping the stray animals and birds with him in the room was
unbearable to her. She knew that she sends him out, but he was nowhere to go,
no relations and not a friend in the world. He was a peculiar, strange being,
he himself starved but fed the stray animals that were disabled and sick.
The narrator did not see Thompson
again in the garden for sometime and one day he went to meet him. At the
entrance to his street, the narrator saw a lot of people collected round and
watching a yellowish beast was making frantic movements in the cage. It was an
amusement for the people.
A man in the audience asked the
master of the animal to give him that animal. He bargained and got it paying
three pence. Thompson joined that narrator and expressed that he wanted to have
that poor bear. He expressed his regret
that even if he could buy the beast, his landlady would not have allowed that.
He said that bear is really an extraordinary animal. “It’s a marvelous
creation!” he said.
They were passing through the
fish shop. Thompson said: “ A fish is a marvelous thing… look at the scales! Do
you ever see such mechanism?” The narrator
bought for him five codfish. Thompson carried them in a bag. He was thinking of
his cats.
Thompson always talked about his
strays and music. The narrator served him food often. He had been out of a job
more than ten years. When questioned he asked not to talk about that.
His landlady had a good conscience and had terrible
grudges against Thompson and yet she tolerated him. He always collected the
strays and discovered the marvels of creation among them. She allowed him to
stay in her house. Their hands were joined by that died child.
Thompson became very ill. The
landlady shooed his trays out. He had been giving his food away to those
animals. She explained how the birds and cats were dirtying her house and how
Thompson led a miserable life. The doctor said that he had caught double
pneumonia. The landlady nursed him.
He fell back, quiet at once.
Presently one cat came stealing in and sat against the walls. The bullfinch
bird came to his pillow. The sunlight played on his bed. He said that the sunlight
is the most marvelous thing.
Mr. Jackson of the theatre came
to see Mr. Thompson. The narrator described to him the situation and about the
expectation of Mr. Thompson. Jackson
told the narrator that Thompson worked at his theatre for thirty years and
never missed a night. He complimented Thompson was the rare flute player. The
owner wanted to send out one flute player. Thompson sent in his resignation.
After that he could never get a place anywhere. He was kind hearted and never
cared for himself. Mr. Jackson decided to take care of all his birds and cats.
He handed over a card to the narrator – “ Mr. Cyril Porteous Jackson, Ultima
Thule, Wimbledon”. He spoke about Thompson with affection.
The landlady too had sat there
she was gazing angrily at the cat. Mr. Jackson gave the narrator his diamond
ring to take care of Mr. Thompson and went out.
The following morning Mr.
Thompson died. The bright angel had gone to sleep. The bird had sat on his
chest looking into his face.
He had not left money for his
funeral. He never thought about himself. The landlady began to cry. A
telegraphic message was sent to Jackson
and on the day of the funeral the narrator went to his house Ultima Thule to
see if he had carried out his promise. He had kept ready an outhouse. In it he
placed cushions against the walls and a little trough of milk. He had hung a
flit birdcage. The bullfinch was dead too. The cats refused to stay there.
Jackson had named his house Ultima Thule –
First rate, the whole place was the last word in comfort. A man must have a
warm corner to end his days in. But in Thompson’s ‘Ultima Thule’, the bullfinch
had died on a heart that had never known success.
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