The　Club　of　Queer　Trades
  by　G。K。Chesterton
  Chapter　1
  The　Tremendous　Adventures　of　Major　Brown
  Rabelais；　or　his　wild　illustrator　Gustave　Dore；　must　have　had　something　to　do　with　the　designing　of　the　things　called　flats　in　England　and　America。　There　is　something　entirely　Gargantuan　in　the　idea　of　economising　space　by　piling　houses　on　top　of　each　other；　front　doors　and　all。　And　in　the　chaos　and　complexity　of　those　perpendicular　streets　anything　may　dwell　or　happen；　and　it　is　in　one　of　them；　I　believe；　that　the　inquirer　may　find　the　offices　of　the　Club　of　Queer　Trades。　It　may　be　thought　at　the　first　glance　that　the　name　would　attract　and　startle　the　passer…by；　but　nothing　attracts　or　startles　in　these　dim　immense　hives。　The　passer…by　is　only　looking　for　his　own　melancholy　destination；　the　Montenegro　Shipping　Agency　or　the　London　office　of　the　Rutland　Sentinel；　and　passes　through　the　twilight　passages　as　one　passes　through　the　twilight　corridors　of　a　dream。　If　the　Thugs　set　up　a　Strangers'　Assassination　Company　in　one　of　the　great　buildings　in　Norfolk　Street；　and　sent　in　a　mild　man　in　spectacles　to　answer　inquiries；　no　inquiries　would　be　made。　And　the　Club　of　Queer　Trades　reigns　in　a　great　edifice　hidden　like　a　fossil　in　a　mighty　cliff　of　fossils。
  The　nature　of　this　society；　such　as　we　afterwards　discovered　it　to　be；　is　soon　and　simply　told。　It　is　an　eccentric　and　Bohemian　Club；　of　which　the　absolute　condition　of　membership　lies　in　this；　that　the　candidate　must　have　invented　the　method　by　which　he　earns　his　living。　It　must　be　an　entirely　new　trade。　The　exact　definition　of　this　requirement　is　given　in　the　two　principal　rules。　First；　it　must　not　be　a　mere　application　or　variation　of　an　existing　trade。　Thus；　for　instance；　the　Club　would　not　admit　an　insurance　agent　simply　because　instead　of　insuring　men's　furniture　against　being　burnt　in　a　fire；　he　insured；　let　us　say；　their　trousers　against　being　torn　by　a　mad　dog。　The　principle　（as　Sir　Bradcock　Burnaby…Bradcock；　in　the　extraordinarily　eloquent　and　soaring　speech　to　the　club　on　the　occasion　of　the　question　being　raised　in　the　Stormby　Smith　affair；　said　wittily　and　keenly）　is　the　same。　Secondly；　the　trade　must　be　a　genuine　commercial　source　of　income；　the　support　of　its　inventor。　Thus　the　Club　would　not　receive　a　man　simply　because　he　chose　to　pass　his　days　collecting　broken　sardine　tins；　unless　he　could　drive　a　roaring　trade　in　them。　Professor　Chick　made　that　quite　clear。　And　when　one　remembers　what　Professor　Chick's　own　new　trade　was；　one　doesn't　know　whether　to　laugh　or　cry。
  The　discovery　of　this　strange　society　was　a　curiously　refreshing　thing；　to　realize　that　there　were　ten　new　trades　in　the　world　was　like　looking　at　the　first　ship　or　the　first　plough。　It　made　a　man　feel　what　he　should　feel；　that　he　was　still　in　the　childhood　of　the　world。　That　I　should　have　come　at　last　upon　so　singular　a　body　was；　I　may　say　without　vanity；　not　altogether　singular；　for　I　have　a　mania　for　belonging　to　as　many　societies　as　possible：　I　may　be　said　to　collect　clubs；　and　I　have　accumulated　a　vast　and　fantastic　variety　of　specimens　ever　since；　in　my　audacious　youth；　I　collected　the　Athenaeum。　At　some　future　day；　perhaps；　I　may　tell　tales　of　some　of　the　other　bodies　to　which　I　have　belonged。　I　will　recount　the　doings　of　the　Dead　Man's　Shoes　Society　（that　superficially　immoral；　but　darkly　justifiable　communion）；　I　will　explain　the　curious　origin　of　the　Cat　and　Christian；　the　name　of　which　has　been　so　shamefully　misinterpreted；　and　the　world　shall　know　at　last　why　the　Institute　of　Typewriters　coalesced　with　the　Red　Tulip　League。　Of　the　Ten　Teacups；　of　course　I　dare　not　say　a　word。　The　first　of　my　revelations；　at　any　rate；　shall　be　concerned　with　the　Club　of　Queer　Trades；　which；　as　I　have　said；　was　one　of　this　class；　one　which　I　was　almost　bound　to　come　across　sooner　or　later；　because　of　my　singular　hobby。　The　wild　youth　of　the　metropolis　call　me　facetiously　‘The　King　of　Clubs'。　They　also　call　me　‘The　Cherub'；　in　allusion　to　the　roseate　and　youthful　appearance　I　have　presented　in　my　declining　years。　I　only　hope　the　spirits　in　the　better　world　have　as　good　dinners　as　I　have。　But　the　finding　of　the　Club　of　Queer　Trades　has　one　very　curious　thing　about　it。　The　most　curious　thing　about　it　is　that　it　was　not　discovered　by　me；　it　was　discovered　by　my　friend　Basil　Grant；　a　star…gazer；　a　mystic；　and　a　man　who　scarcely　stirred　out　of　his　attic。
  Very　few　people　knew　anything　of　Basil；　not　because　he　was　in　the　least　unsociable；　for　if　a　man　out　of　the　street　had　walked　into　his　rooms　he　would　have　kept　him　talking　till　morning。　Few　people　knew　him；　because；　like　all　poets；　he　could　do　without　them；　he　welcomed　a　human　face　as　he　might　welcome　a　sudden　blend　of　colour　in　a　sunset；　but　he　no　more　felt　the　need　of　going　out　to　parties　than　he　felt　the　need　of　altering　the　sunset　clouds。　He　lived　in　a　queer　and　comfortable　garret　in　the　roofs　of　Lambeth。　He　was　surrounded　by　a　chaos　of　things　that　were　in　odd　contrast　to　the　slums　around　him；　old　fantastic　books；　swords；　armourthe　whole　dust…hole　of　romanticism。　But　his　face；　amid　all　these　quixotic　relics；　appeared　curiously　keen　and　moderna　powerful；　legal　face。　And　no　one　but　I　knew　who　he　was。
  Long　ago　as　it　is；　everyone　remembers　the　terrible　and　grotesque　scene　that　occurred　in；　when　one　of　the　most　acute　and　forcible　of　the　English　judges　suddenly　went　mad　on　the　bench。　I　had　my　own　view　of　that　occurrence；　but　about　the　facts　themselves　there　is　no　question　at　all。　For　some　months；　indeed　for　some　years；　people　had　detected　something　curious　in　the　judge's　conduct。　He　seemed　to　have　lost　interest　in　the　law；　in　which　he　had　been　beyond　expression　brilliant　and　terrible　as　a　K。C。；　and　to　be　occupied　in　giving　personal　and　moral　advice　to　the　people　concerned。　He　talked　more　like　a　priest　or　a　doctor；　and　a　very　outspoken　one　at　that。　The　first　thrill　was　probably　given　when　he　said　to　a　man　who　had　attempted　a　crime　of　passion：　〃I　sentence　you　to　three　years　imprisonment；　under　the　firm；　and　solemn；　and　God…given　conviction；　that　what　you　require　is　three　months　at　the　seaside。〃　He　accused　criminals　from　the　bench；　not　so　much　of　their　obvious　legal　crimes；　but　of　things　that　had　never　been　heard　of　in　a　court　of　justice；　monstrous　egoism；　lack　of　humour；　and　morbidity　deliberately　encouraged。　Things　came　to　a　head　in　that　celebrated　diamond　case　in　which　the　Prime　Minister　himself；　that　brilliant　patrician；　had　to　come　forward；　gracefully　and　reluctantly；　to　give　evidence　against　his　valet。　After　the　detailed　life　of　the　household　had　been　thoroughly　exhibited；　the　judge　requested　the　Premier　again　to　step　forward；　which　he　did　with　quiet　dignity。　The　judge　then　said；　in　a　sudden；　grating　voice：　〃Get　a　new　soul。　That　thing's　not　fit　for　a　dog。　Get　a　new　soul。〃　All　this；　of　course；　in　the　eyes　of　the　sagacious；　was　premonitory　of　that　melancholy　and　farcical　day　when　his　wits　actually　deserted　him　in　open　court。　It　was　a　libel　case　between　two　very　eminent　and　powerful　financiers；　against　both　of　whom　charges　of　considerable　defalcation　were　brought。　The　case　was　long　and　complex；　the　advocates　were　long　and　eloquent；　but　at　last；　after　weeks　of　work　and　rhetoric；　the　time　came　for　the　great　judge　to　give　a　summing…up；　and　one　of　his　celebrated　masterpieces　of　lucidity　and　pulverizing　logic　was　eagerly　looked　for。　He　had　spoken　very　little　during　the　prolonged　affair；　and　he　looked　sad　and　lowering　at　the　end　of　it。　He　was　silent　for　a　few　moments；　and　then　burst　into　a　stentorian　song。　His　remarks　（as　reported）　were　as　follows：
  〃O　Rowty…owty　tiddly…owty　Tiddly…owty　tiddly…owty　Highty…ighty　tiddly…ighty　Tiddly…ighty　ow。〃
  He　then　retired　from　public　life　and　took　the　garret　in　Lambeth。
  I　was　sitting　there　one　evening；　about　six　o'clock；　over　a　glass　of　that　gorgeous　Burgundy　which　he　kept　behind　a　pile　of　black…letter　folios；　he　was　striding　about　the　room；　fingering；　after　a　habit　of　his；　one　of　the　great　swords　in　his　collection；　the　red　glare　of　the　strong　fire　struck　his　square　features　and　his　fierce　grey　hair；　his　blue　eyes　were　even　unusually　full　of　dreams；　and　he　had　opened　his　mouth　to　speak　dreamily；　when　the　door　was　flung　open；　and　a　pale；　fiery　man；　with　red　hair　and　a　huge　furred　overcoat；　swung　himself　panting　into　the　room。
  〃Sorry　to　bother　you；　Basil；〃　he　gasped。　〃I　took　a　libertymade　an　appointment　here　with　a　mana　clientin　five　minutesI　beg　your　pardon；　sir；〃　and　he　gave　me　a　bow　of　apology。
  Basil　smiled　at　me。　〃You　didn't　know；〃　he　said；　〃that　I　had　a　practical　brother。　This　is　Rupert　Grant；　Esquire；　who　can　and　does　all　there　is　to　be　done。　Just　as　I　was　a　failure　at　one　thing；　he　is　a　success　at　everything。　I　remember　him　as　a　journalist；　a　house…agent；　a　naturalist；　an　inventor；　a　publisher；　a　schoolmaster；　awhat　are　you　now；　Rupert？〃
  〃I　am　and　have　been　for　some　time；〃　said　Rupert；　with　some　dignity；　〃a　private　detective；　and　there's　my　client。〃
  A　loud　rap　at　the　door　had　cut　him　short；　and；　on　permission　being　given；　the　door　was　thrown　sharply　open　and　a　stout；　dapper　man　walked　swiftly　into　the　room；　set　his　silk　hat　with　a　clap　on　the　table；　and　said；　〃Good　evening；　gentlemen；〃　with　a　stress