I first heard this story in India, where it is told as if true -- though any naturalist would know it couldnt be. Later I learned that a magazine version of it appeared shortly before the First World War. This account,and its author, I have never been able to track down.
The country is India. A colonial official and his wife are giving alarge dinner party. They are seated with their guests -- army officers andgovernment attaches and their wives, and a visiting Americannaturalist- in their spacious dining room, which has a bare marblefloor, open rafters and wide glass doors opening onto a veranda.
A spirited discussion springs up between a young girl who insists thatwomen have outgrown the jumping-on-the-chair-at-the-sight-of-a-mouseera and a colonel who says that they havent.
"A womans unfailing reaction in any crisis," the colonel says, "is toscream. And while a man may feel like it, he has that ounce more ofnerve control than a woman has. And that last ounce is what counts. "
The American does not join in the argument but watches the otherguests. As he looks, he sees a strange expression come over the face of thehostess. She is staring straight ahead, her muscles contracting slightly.With a slight gesture she summons the native boy standing behind herchair, and whispers to him. The boys eyes widen, he quickly leaves.
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