Difference
Oscar Wilde was again busy making epigrams in his evidence yesterday. The following are a few of the replies he made in answering Mr. Carson:—
To me youth, the mere fact of youth, is so wonderful that I would sooner talk to a young man for half an hour that even be cross-examined in court. (Laughter.)
I never met him in society, certainly not: but he has been in my society, which is more important. (Laughter.)
An invitation to dinner is one of the best ways of pleasing anyone not of your social position. (Laughter.)
I have never asked him his age. I think it vulgar to ask people their age.
Alluding to one of the persons named, Mr. Carson ask:—
Did he discuss literature with you?—No,I did not allow him.
That was not his line?—The art of the music hall was as far as he got.
Did be use to do his own cooking?—That I don't know. I have never dined there. I don't know there was anything wrong in it.
Have I suggested that there was anything wrong?—No, cooking is an art.
During the course of the trial, yesterday, an allusion was made to iced champagne.
Is that a favourite drink of yours?—Yes; strongly against the doctors orders.
Never mind the doctor's orders.—No, I don't. (Laughter.)
With regard to Alfonso Conway, did you ever hear that he had been employed as a newspaper boy?—No, I never heard that he was connected with literature in any form. (Laughter.)
With regard to Alfonso Conway, did you ever hear that he had been employed as a newspaper boy? - No, I never heard that he was connected with literature in any form. (Laughter.)
The price of a music-hall song was also elicited by Carson:
Did you give Atkins any money?—I gave him £3 15s. to buy his first song for the music hall stage. He told me that poets who wrote for the music-hall stage never take less. (Laughter.) I had the pleasure of meeting one of the poets.
One more passage from the cross-examination of the unhappy brilliant mortal who to-day closes his career in shame:
Five or ten minutes' walk from Tite Street.—Oh, I never walk.
In paying your visits to your friends you would keep your cab outside?—Oh, yes, certainly—if it was a good cab.
The Court has been much mystified during the Wilde trial as to the identity of the gentleman who is referred to constantly as the one whose name was "written on the paper." Except that he is a Mr. B., and a gentleman of position and high repute, and that he has been for some time out of England, nothing transpired.