August 23, 2025 • 8 mins
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Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter thirty one, in which you read of the glorious
caverns of white marble fronting on the wonderful river in
the tropics of the underworld. How we came upon a
solitary wanderer on the banks of the river, my conversation
with him, and my joy at finding myself in the
land of the rattle brains, or happy forgetters. Brief description
(00:20):
of them. With every turn in the winding way that
skirted the white shores of this wonderful stream, its swarms
of light emitting animals lented in new beauty. For as
the day advanced, if I may so express it, they
lifted their glowing bodies nearer and nearer to the surface,
until now the river shone like molten silver, and as
the sheer walls of rock on the opposite bank held
(00:42):
set in them vast slabs of mica. The effect was
that these gigantic natural mirrors reflected the glowing stream with
startling fidelity, and through the flood of soft light, in
dazzling shimmer, against the fantastic portals of the white marble
caverns on this side of the stream. It was a
scene never to forget. And again again I paused in
(01:03):
silent wonder to feast my eyes upon some newly discovered beauty.
Now for the first time I noted that every white
marble basin of cove and inlet was filled with a
different glow, according to the nature of the tiny phosphorescent
animals which happened to fill its waters, one being a
delicate pink, another a glorious red, the third a deep,
(01:24):
rich purple, the fourth a soft blue, the fifth a
golden yellow, and so on, the charm of each tent
being greatly enhanced by the snowy whiteness of these marble basins,
through which long lines of curious fish, scaled in hues
of polished gold and silver, swam slowly along, turning up
their glorious sides to catch the full splendor of the
(01:46):
light reflected from the mica mirrors. And now the chilly
breath of King Galadus's domain no longer filled the air.
I stood in the tropics of the underworld, so to speak.
And but one thing was lacking to make my enjoyment
of this fair region complete, and that was some one
to share it with me. True Bulgar had an idea
of its beauty, for he testified his happiness at being
(02:08):
once more in a warm land, by executing some mad
capers for my amusement, and by scampering along the shore
of the glowing river and barking at the stately fish
as they slowly fanned the water with their many colored fins.
But I must admit that I longed for the Princess
Shnibouleh to keep me company. But it was a rash wish,
for the warm air would have thrown her into convulsions
(02:29):
of fear, and she would have preferred to meet her
death in the cool river rather than attempt to breathe
such a fiery atmosphere. By this time I had advanced
several miles along the white shores of the glowing stream,
and feeling somewhat fatigued, I was about to sit down
on the jutting edge of a natural bench of rock,
which seemed almost placed on the river ranks by human hands,
for human forms to rest upon and watch the wonderful
(02:51):
play of tints and hues in this wide, sweeping inlet. When,
to my amazement, I saw that a human creature was
already sitting there. His eyes were mixed upon the water,
and methought that his face, which was gentle and placid,
wore a tired look. Certainly, he was plunged into such
deep meditation that he either took or feigned to take
no notice of my approach. Bulgar was inclined to dash
(03:14):
forward and attract his attention by a string of ear
splitting barks. But I shook my head. This wander along
the glowing stream of day wore rather a graceful cloak
like garment, woven of some substance that shimmered in the light,
and so I concluded that it must be a mineral wool.
His head was bare, and so were his legs to
the knees, his feet being shod with white metal sandals,
(03:37):
tied on with what looked like leathern thongs. All and all,
he had a friendly, though somewhat peculiar look about him,
and his attitude struck me as being that of a
person either plunged into deep thought or possibly listening for
some anxiously expected signal. At any rate, Accustomed as I
was to meet all sorts of people on my travels
in the four corners of the globe, I determined to
(03:58):
make bold enough to interrupt the gentleman's meditations and wish
him good morrow. Whom have I the pleasures meeting in
this beautiful section of the world within a world. The
man looked at me in a dazed sort of way
and replied, I really don't know. I'm happy to say,
but sir, thy name, I insisted, forgot it years ago,
(04:19):
was his remarkable answer. But surely, sir, I exclaimed rather testily,
or not the sole inhabitant of this beautiful underworld. Thou
hast kinsman wife family, A gentle stranger. He replied, in
slow and measured tones. There are people farther along the shore,
and they are good, dear souls, although I have forgotten
(04:40):
their names, and I have to a very faint recollection
that two of these people are sons of mine. Stop
no a. Their names are gone from me too. I
forgot them the day my own name slipped from my mind.
And as he uttered these words, he threw his head
back with a sudden jerk, and I heard a strange
click inside of it, as if something had slipped from
(05:01):
its place, And that instant, a mysterious expression used by
that master of masters, don fume, flashed through my mind. Rattlebrains, Yes,
that was it. And now I felt sure that I
was standing in the presence of one of the curious
folk inhabiting the world within a world to whom Don
Fume had given the strange name of Rattlebrain's or happy Forgetters.
(05:25):
I was so delighted that I could barely keep myself
from rushing up to this gentle visaged and mild mannered
person whose head had just given forth the sharp click,
and grasping him by the hand. But I feared to
shock him by such a friendly greeting, and so I
contented myself with crying out, Sir, thou seest before thee
none other than the famous traveler Baron Sebastian von Trump.
(05:48):
But to my great amazement and greater chagrin, he simply
turned his strange eyes with the far away look upon
me for an instant, and then resumed his contemplation of
the beautifully tinted sheet of water as if I had
and opened by mouth. It was the most extraordinary treatment
that I had experienced since my descent into the underworld,
and I was upon the point of resenting it as
(06:09):
became a true knight, and especially of Van Trump. When
don Fum's brief description of the rattle brains are happy
forgetters flitted through my mind, said he. By the exercise
of their strong wills. They have been busy for ages,
striving to unload their brains of the to them now
useless stock of knowledge accumulated by their ancestors. And the
natural consequence has been that the brains of these curious folk,
(06:31):
who call themselves the happy forgetters, relieved of all labor
and strain of thought, have absolutely shrunken, rather than increased
in size, so that with many of the happy forgetters,
their brains are like the shriveled kernel of a last
year's nut, and give forth a sharp click when they
move their heads suddenly with a jerk, as is often
their wont for they take great pride in proving to
(06:51):
the listener that they deserve the name of rattle brain.
Nor do I need remind the old reader. Concluded Don
Fum in his celebrated work on the World within a World,
that the chiefest among the happy forgetters is the man
whose head gives forth the loudest and sharpest click, For
he it is who has forgotten most. You can have
but a faint idea. Dear friends of my delight at
(07:13):
the prospect of spending some time among these curious people,
people who look with absolute dread upon knowledge as the
one thing necessary to get rid of before happiness can
enter the human heart. No joy can equal the happy forgetters, when,
upon clasping a friend's hand, he finds that he has
forgotten his very name. And no day is well spent
in this land at the close of which the inhabitant
(07:35):
may not exclaim this day I succeeded in forgetting something
that I knew yesterday. At last, the happy forgetter rose
from his seat and calmly walked away, without so much
as wishing me good day. But I was resolved not
to be so easily gotten rid of, so I called
after him in a loud voice in vulgar following my example,
(07:56):
raised a racket at his heels, whereupon he faced about
and remarked, BEG, pardon, I had quite forgotten thee I'm
happy to say, and thy name too, I've forgotten that.
Let me see art thou al radiate one of the
animals in the water. I was more than half inclined
to lose my temper at this slur, classing me a
backboned animal with a mere jelly fish. But under all
(08:18):
the circumstances, I thought it best to control myself, for
I could well imagine that from the size of my
head and the utter absence of all click inside of it,
I was not destined to be a very welcome visitor
among the happy forgetters. And therefore, swallowing my injured feelings,
I made a very low bow and begged this curious
gentleman to be kind enough to conduct me to his people,
(08:41):
among whom I wished to bide for a few days.
End of Chapter thirty one
Chapter thirty one, in which you read of the glorious
caverns of white marble fronting on the wonderful river in
the tropics of the underworld. How we came upon a
solitary wanderer on the banks of the river, my conversation
with him, and my joy at finding myself in the
land of the rattle brains, or happy forgetters. Brief description
(00:20):
of them. With every turn in the winding way that
skirted the white shores of this wonderful stream, its swarms
of light emitting animals lented in new beauty. For as
the day advanced, if I may so express it, they
lifted their glowing bodies nearer and nearer to the surface,
until now the river shone like molten silver, and as
the sheer walls of rock on the opposite bank held
(00:42):
set in them vast slabs of mica. The effect was
that these gigantic natural mirrors reflected the glowing stream with
startling fidelity, and through the flood of soft light, in
dazzling shimmer, against the fantastic portals of the white marble
caverns on this side of the stream. It was a
scene never to forget. And again again I paused in
(01:03):
silent wonder to feast my eyes upon some newly discovered beauty.
Now for the first time I noted that every white
marble basin of cove and inlet was filled with a
different glow, according to the nature of the tiny phosphorescent
animals which happened to fill its waters, one being a
delicate pink, another a glorious red, the third a deep,
(01:24):
rich purple, the fourth a soft blue, the fifth a
golden yellow, and so on, the charm of each tent
being greatly enhanced by the snowy whiteness of these marble basins,
through which long lines of curious fish, scaled in hues
of polished gold and silver, swam slowly along, turning up
their glorious sides to catch the full splendor of the
(01:46):
light reflected from the mica mirrors. And now the chilly
breath of King Galadus's domain no longer filled the air.
I stood in the tropics of the underworld, so to speak.
And but one thing was lacking to make my enjoyment
of this fair region complete, and that was some one
to share it with me. True Bulgar had an idea
of its beauty, for he testified his happiness at being
(02:08):
once more in a warm land, by executing some mad
capers for my amusement, and by scampering along the shore
of the glowing river and barking at the stately fish
as they slowly fanned the water with their many colored fins.
But I must admit that I longed for the Princess
Shnibouleh to keep me company. But it was a rash wish,
for the warm air would have thrown her into convulsions
(02:29):
of fear, and she would have preferred to meet her
death in the cool river rather than attempt to breathe
such a fiery atmosphere. By this time I had advanced
several miles along the white shores of the glowing stream,
and feeling somewhat fatigued, I was about to sit down
on the jutting edge of a natural bench of rock,
which seemed almost placed on the river ranks by human hands,
for human forms to rest upon and watch the wonderful
(02:51):
play of tints and hues in this wide, sweeping inlet. When,
to my amazement, I saw that a human creature was
already sitting there. His eyes were mixed upon the water,
and methought that his face, which was gentle and placid,
wore a tired look. Certainly, he was plunged into such
deep meditation that he either took or feigned to take
no notice of my approach. Bulgar was inclined to dash
(03:14):
forward and attract his attention by a string of ear
splitting barks. But I shook my head. This wander along
the glowing stream of day wore rather a graceful cloak
like garment, woven of some substance that shimmered in the light,
and so I concluded that it must be a mineral wool.
His head was bare, and so were his legs to
the knees, his feet being shod with white metal sandals,
(03:37):
tied on with what looked like leathern thongs. All and all,
he had a friendly, though somewhat peculiar look about him,
and his attitude struck me as being that of a
person either plunged into deep thought or possibly listening for
some anxiously expected signal. At any rate, Accustomed as I
was to meet all sorts of people on my travels
in the four corners of the globe, I determined to
(03:58):
make bold enough to interrupt the gentleman's meditations and wish
him good morrow. Whom have I the pleasures meeting in
this beautiful section of the world within a world. The
man looked at me in a dazed sort of way
and replied, I really don't know. I'm happy to say,
but sir, thy name, I insisted, forgot it years ago,
(04:19):
was his remarkable answer. But surely, sir, I exclaimed rather testily,
or not the sole inhabitant of this beautiful underworld. Thou
hast kinsman wife family, A gentle stranger. He replied, in
slow and measured tones. There are people farther along the shore,
and they are good, dear souls, although I have forgotten
(04:40):
their names, and I have to a very faint recollection
that two of these people are sons of mine. Stop
no a. Their names are gone from me too. I
forgot them the day my own name slipped from my mind.
And as he uttered these words, he threw his head
back with a sudden jerk, and I heard a strange
click inside of it, as if something had slipped from
(05:01):
its place, And that instant, a mysterious expression used by
that master of masters, don fume, flashed through my mind. Rattlebrains, Yes,
that was it. And now I felt sure that I
was standing in the presence of one of the curious
folk inhabiting the world within a world to whom Don
Fume had given the strange name of Rattlebrain's or happy Forgetters.
(05:25):
I was so delighted that I could barely keep myself
from rushing up to this gentle visaged and mild mannered
person whose head had just given forth the sharp click,
and grasping him by the hand. But I feared to
shock him by such a friendly greeting, and so I
contented myself with crying out, Sir, thou seest before thee
none other than the famous traveler Baron Sebastian von Trump.
(05:48):
But to my great amazement and greater chagrin, he simply
turned his strange eyes with the far away look upon
me for an instant, and then resumed his contemplation of
the beautifully tinted sheet of water as if I had
and opened by mouth. It was the most extraordinary treatment
that I had experienced since my descent into the underworld,
and I was upon the point of resenting it as
(06:09):
became a true knight, and especially of Van Trump. When
don Fum's brief description of the rattle brains are happy
forgetters flitted through my mind, said he. By the exercise
of their strong wills. They have been busy for ages,
striving to unload their brains of the to them now
useless stock of knowledge accumulated by their ancestors. And the
natural consequence has been that the brains of these curious folk,
(06:31):
who call themselves the happy forgetters, relieved of all labor
and strain of thought, have absolutely shrunken, rather than increased
in size, so that with many of the happy forgetters,
their brains are like the shriveled kernel of a last
year's nut, and give forth a sharp click when they
move their heads suddenly with a jerk, as is often
their wont for they take great pride in proving to
(06:51):
the listener that they deserve the name of rattle brain.
Nor do I need remind the old reader. Concluded Don
Fum in his celebrated work on the World within a World,
that the chiefest among the happy forgetters is the man
whose head gives forth the loudest and sharpest click, For
he it is who has forgotten most. You can have
but a faint idea. Dear friends of my delight at
(07:13):
the prospect of spending some time among these curious people,
people who look with absolute dread upon knowledge as the
one thing necessary to get rid of before happiness can
enter the human heart. No joy can equal the happy forgetters, when,
upon clasping a friend's hand, he finds that he has
forgotten his very name. And no day is well spent
in this land at the close of which the inhabitant
(07:35):
may not exclaim this day I succeeded in forgetting something
that I knew yesterday. At last, the happy forgetter rose
from his seat and calmly walked away, without so much
as wishing me good day. But I was resolved not
to be so easily gotten rid of, so I called
after him in a loud voice in vulgar following my example,
(07:56):
raised a racket at his heels, whereupon he faced about
and remarked, BEG, pardon, I had quite forgotten thee I'm
happy to say, and thy name too, I've forgotten that.
Let me see art thou al radiate one of the
animals in the water. I was more than half inclined
to lose my temper at this slur, classing me a
backboned animal with a mere jelly fish. But under all
(08:18):
the circumstances, I thought it best to control myself, for
I could well imagine that from the size of my
head and the utter absence of all click inside of it,
I was not destined to be a very welcome visitor
among the happy forgetters. And therefore, swallowing my injured feelings,
I made a very low bow and begged this curious
gentleman to be kind enough to conduct me to his people,
(08:41):
among whom I wished to bide for a few days.
End of Chapter thirty one
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