The Equinox (Volume I, Number VII)

WAITE’S WET “ It‘s a disease; he read about it in the Dai/y Mm"! on the Underground between Aldgate and Blackfriars; but it sounds better than plain ‘status' ; so he damned the extra ha’penny, and put it. To my mind it’s the shortest and plainest thing he's ever written, And I forgive him all.” The company, overborne by authority, acquiesced. Only Neuburg, always a pessimist, doubted. ”It’s unsignedl" he groaned, his lips, blood-stained bolsters dipped in ink, writhing like half-boiled lobsters. The Editor, with one shriek, one sob, and one sigh, thinking of the veil of the temple, tore a napkin in default of anything else to tear, and cried: " It is finished! Votes for Women! " Neuburg, his nose working feverishly, burst into hyena-howls. The Master arose; calling for hot water and sulphuric acid, he comparatively cleaned the victim’s left ear, and bit another piece off. Calm was restored,1 Remembering Mr. Waite’s statement in Who's Who that he “holds nearly all degrees of Masonry known in England, and some which are here unknown," Crowley dictated the followingי1616911111? "Waite, Esquire, Etcetera, Sidmouth Lodge, South Ealing. “Yes. “ALEISTER CROWLEY. ”Apprentice, Companion, Master, Secret Master, Perfect Master, Intimate Secretary, Provost and Judge, Valiant \ח1? the event, Neuburg proved to have been justified in his scepticism. The telegram was not from Waite; it was a practical joke of Dr. Wynn Westcott's, possibly, But I can no more rewrite this article than Crowley can replace Neuburg‘s ear,—A. Q.,JR. 235