Vol. 2 No. 1 - Modernist Magazines Project

53 APRIL THE FIFTH
corridors that suggest the last walk in Mountjoy, taken
the strategically placed chair, and gazed across half-anacre
of desk at what seems by now the whole bench of
Revenue Commissioners opposite—by that time the sap
who does not rise before you begins to look very much like
the Head Lad indeed !
There it is. Seven million pounds ! It is got by a lot
of well-organised routine, the mixture-as-before of perspiration
and inspiration, and an occasional bit of gunning
up and down the back-trails of Commerce. Profit-making
is a matter of exchange—and it is well for the wicked to
remember that the party of the first part may not always
give the same version as the party of the second-part.
Commerce, these days, is almost distressingly a matter of
Record. And the Inspector's net is wide. It is, moreover,
one thing to suppress profits and another to keep them
hidden, even if all defaulters may not be so thoughtless
as the one reputed to have disclosed three banking accounts
and then handed over a cheque for his Taxes drawn on a
fourth. On the whole if you must have excitement it will,
therefore, probably come less expensive in the end if you
stick to barratry, cycling without lights, or playing solo
with strange men on a Race Special. So the Inspector
asks a lot of questions, and checks all the answers. But
he is fair. (Well—fairly fair !) He will be the first to
admit that he only gets the millions because the community
is willing. (Well—fairly willing !) If he happens
to be in an expansive mood and can articulate with his
tongue in his cheek he may even add the old slogan
about * soliciting the favour of a continuance of your
esteemed patronage/ But, my brothers . . . there is one
slogan which, much as we may plead it, he will always
shy at. He will explain impartially, expound learnedly,
listen patiently, but he will never fully line up to the
adulatory * miah ' of the nineteen-eleven-and-three'rs that
the customer is always right.