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of how in that at once sinister and time, however, that this high pitch of grotesque connection they had felt private emotion was by itself far from notified in time. It was the extension meeting the case as the enemy presented of the programme and its still more it; what I wanted of course to do was prodigious publication during the quar to meet it with the last lucidity, the ter of a century of interval, it was the fullest support for particular defensive announced application of the extin- pleas or claims and this even if what guisher to the quite other, the really so most underlay all such without excepcontrasted genius the

genius the expression of tion came back to my actual vision, that which surrounded me in the manner I and no more, of the general sense of the have glanced at, it was the extraordinary land. The vision was fed and fed to such fact of a declared non-sufferance any a tune that in the quest for reasons, that longer, on Germany's part, of either of is for the particulars of one's affection, the obnoxious national forms disfiguring the more detailed the better, the blades her westward horizon, and even though of grass, the outlines of leaves, the drift by her own allowance they had nothing of clouds, the streaks of mortar between intellectually or socially in common save old bricks, not to speak of the call of that they were objectionable and, as an child-voices muffled in the comforting incident, crushable-it was this, I say, air, became, as I have noted, with a hunthat gave one furiously to think, or dred other like touches, casually felt, rather, while one thanked one's stars extraordinary admonitions and symbols, for the luxury, furiously and all but un close links of a tangible chain. When utterably to feel.

once the question fairly hung there of The beauty and the interest, the now the possibility, more showily set forth more than ever copious and welcome than it had up to then presumed to be, expression, of the aspects nearest me

of a world without use for the tradition found their value in their being so re so embodied, an order substituting for sistingly, just to that very degree of this, by an unmannerly thrust, quite eccentricity, with that very density of another and really, it would seem, quite home-grownness, what they were; in a ridiculous, a crudely and clumsily the same way as the character of the improvised story, we might all have resister-land lately joined in sisterhood sembled together a group of children at showed for exquisite because so in their nurse's knee disconcerted by some grained and incorrigible, so beautifully tale that it isn't their habit to hear. all her own and inimitable on other We loved the old tale, or at least I did, ground. If it would have been hard exactly because I knew it; which leaves really to give the measure of one's dis me keen to make the point, none the may at the awful proposition of a world less, that my appreciation of the case squeezed together in the huge Prussian for world-variety found the deeply and fist and with the variety and sponta- blessedly familiar perfectly consistent neity of its parts oozing in a steady with it. This came of what I “read trickle, like the sacred blood of sacrifice, into the familiar; and of what I did between those hideous knuckly fingers, so read, of what I kept reading through so, none the less, every reason with that uplifted time, these remarks were to which our preference for a better condi- have attempted a record that has reached tion and a nobler fate could possibly its limit sooner than I had hoped. bristle kept battering at my heart, kept I was not then to the manner born, in fact pushing into it, after the fashion but my apprehension of what it was on of a crowd of the alarmed faithful at the the part of others to be so had been con-. door of a church. The effect was lit- firmed and enriched by the long years, erally, yes, as of the occasion of some and I gave myself up to the general, the great religious service, with prostrations native image 1 thus circled around as to and exaltations, the light of a thousand the dearest and most precious of all candles and the sound of soaring choirs native images. That verily became at -all of which figured one's individual the crisis an occupation sublime; which inward state as determined by the men was not after all so much an earnest ace. One could still note at the same study or fond arrangement of the mixed

aspects as a positive, a fairly sensual cations than these, and mightn't it in a bask in their light, too kindled and too word, taking the right direction, peculrich not to pour out by its own force. iarly conduce to virtue? Wouldn't The strength and the copious play of it indeed be indispensable to virtue of the appearances acting in this collective the highest strain? Never mind, at any fashion carried everything before them; rate---so my emotion replied; with it or no dark discrimination, no stiff little without it we seemed to be taking the reserve that one might ever have made, right direction; moreover the next-best stood up in the diffused day for a mo thing to the imagination people may ment. It was in the opposite way, the have, if they can, is the quantity of it most opposite possible, that one's intel- they may set going in others, and which, ligence worked, all along the line; so imperfectly aware, they are just exthat with the warmth of the mere sen posed to from such others and must sation that “they” were about as good, make the best of: their advantage beabove all when it came to the stress, as coming simply that it works, for the could well be expected of people, there connection, all in their favour. That of was the acute interest of the successive the associated outsider the order of points at which one recognised why. whose feelings, for the occasion, I have This last, the satisfaction of the deep- doubtless not given a wholly lucid ened intelligence, turned, I may frankly sketch of, cultivated its opportunity say, to a prolonged revel—“they” being week after week at such a rate that, the people about me and every comfort technical alien as he was, the privilege I had ever had of them smiling its indi- of the great partaking, of shared invidual smile straight at me and conduc- stincts and ideals, of a communion of ing to an effect of candor that is beyond race and tongue, temper and tradition, any close notation. They didn't know put on before all the blest appearances how good they were, and their candor a splendor to which I hoped that so had à peculiar loveability of uncon- long as I might yet live my eyes would sciousness; one had more imagination never grow dim.

And the great inat their service in this cause than they tensity, the melting together of the had in almost any cause of their own; spiritual sources so loosed in a really it was wonderful, it was beautiful, it was intoxicating draught, was when I shifted inscrutable, that they could make one my watch from near east to far west and feel this and yet not feel with it that it caught the enemy, who seemed ubiquiat all practically diminished them. Of tous, in the long-observed effort that course if a shade should come on occa most fastened on him the insolence of sion to fall across the picture that shade his dream and the depth of his delusion. would perhaps be the question whether. There in the west were those of my own the most restless of the faculties mightn't fond fellowship, the other, the ready and on the whole too much fail them. It rallying partakers, and it was on the beautified life, I duly remembered, it pro treasure of our whole unquenchable asmoted art, it inspired faith, it crowned sociation that in the riot of his ignorance, conversation, but hadn't it — always this at least apparently armor-proof, again under stress - still finer appli- he had laid his unholy hands.

Arpeggio Courts

BY ZONA GALE

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PRING winds, spring “Edith Granger,” she said, and he
rains, in the air a fra was aware of a white glove.
grance of springs long Arpeggio brought his right hand
past, unforgotten, about his bundle, so that the bundle lay
young-say, a fra at ease upon his chest. - Then he re-
grance of super-springs! membered.

Arpeggio Shadd "Guess you'd better not shake," said walked down Cook Street. Becker & he. “I been sharpenin' my lead-pencil. Broom displayed in their window spring Your glove looks awful clean." overcoats. Close to the glass leaned a She did not laugh. A thousand blesscolored print of a haberdasher's heaven ings on the woman who does not neces-six Apollos, in garments creased and sarily laugh. Or do I mean unnecesseamed and pressed by a law, if not sarily? moral, then infinitely compelling. With "You're very thoughtful,” she said, them, in bright relief, a heavenly maid, only. “And I hear you're town comrose-pink, trim, trig, chicand so on, missioner. Won't you come to see me down the lilting list. And one was hand some time? We're here for the summer.” ing her down white steps to a white boat, Late that night Arpeggio was still while a white swan drooped a languid awake, defining to himself what he eye. Arpeggio paused, studied this might have said. What a doorway for picture, sighed, sniffed the spring wind, grace, for ease, for the quick flush of entered Becker & Broom's, and bought pleasure, the eager, grateful, gracious a light spring overcoat.

Howing word! And how had he used "I'll wear it,” he said. “What? that moment? He had answered the . . No. Do the old one up and I'll lady: tote it along. ... What? . . . Shucks, No need to deliver 'way out to my

And what a lady! He visioned her as place."

she had stood before him on Cook Wearing the new overcoat and carry Street, beneath the early awnings of ing the goodly bulk of the old, he Becker & Broom. Oh, fair! He saw her emerged upon the sidewalk. And there moving in a bewilderment of exquisitely she was!

fitting broadcloth, of little imperious She had stepped from a car at the hat, of snowy glove. Her look, her bow, curb-a car not so new or so recently her air—what memories they made. painted as to cry out a passionate pros And he was

to go to see her. .. perity, nor yet so dingy as to confess its Sure." He writhed. owner's mute anxieties. It was well Goin' to wear your new overcoat for bred

car, unsensational, perfectly every day?” his mother inquired, mildly, groomed, inconspicuous until

you next morning, as he was departing. looked, and then revealing itself con “I dun'no' as I mind if I do, seein' spicuously faultless. In a word, it was you name it, mother," he answered, in like the lady from its depths emerg- jocund vein. ing:

She went to the door and looked after "Isn't it Mr. Shadd?" she asked. him and his new coat.

It was fortunate that it was Mr. “Seemed like Arpeggio didn't act like Shadd, because if it had not been, Arpeg- himself,” she thought. “I hope he gio would have claimed it.

ain't comin' down with somethin'. “Sure," said he, blankly—but with The junior commissioner, it was true, a pleased, pleased blankness.

did give signs that day of coming down

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with something. It was not only that books, though he read but few. Occahe was inattentive at the commissioners' sionally he bought a book, but he rarely daily meeting. He was often that. read even that. “I get 'em to have Stack Mayhew and Dodd Purcell, the around,” he said once, “but readin's a other two commissioners, had to keep all chore.” Now, however, he became actallies while Arpeggio merely scrutinized tively interested. What kind of a town the general score. But now and again was this not to have a library? that morning, in his abstractions, Ar Three days later, at two in the afterpeggio smiled; and once or twice he noon, Arpeggio appeared at his home. shut his teeth and pointed his eyes as at His mother was not there, the house some spasm of memory; and sometimes stood pleasantly open to the sun, his his lips moved, as if he were rehearsing doves were pecking on the door-stone. speech.

Arpeggio carried a bundle which he “Hain't it? Hain't it? Hain't it?" opened on the dining-room table: A new Stack demanded of him, voice and irri- light felt hat; a cravat, red on one side, tation mounting.

black on the other; a little pin--the head “Hain't what?” Arpeggio rejoined, of a deer, in gold. In his sloping-roofed dreamily.

bedroom, the open window filled with “Time-to-start — the sprinklin' budding maple boughs, Arpeggio spent cart!" Stack emitted. “What's the mat an hour in bathing and dressing. Some ter with you? Got the pip?".

time after three he went forth. The day “Who? Me?” said Arpeggio. “Shut was warm, but he carried his light spring up. I didn't know I was in the room. overcoat.

Gloves he could not quite Say! Either of you fellows heard who's assume, but he had them in his pocket. come home to the Grangers'?”

All the feel of 'em and none of the Dodd Purcell lifted his head and told, nuisance," he thought. He wore his with the importance, masked as casual cravat red side out. ness, of the born gossip.

Yes! Afternoon was the time to make “Mis' T. M. Granger and her darter," this call.

this call. If he went in the evening, said he. “They aim to pass the summer Miss Granger might believe that someto home. Somebody had ought to get thing was meant. 'em for subscriptions to the band con The house of the Grangers was a midcerts."

Victorian brick. Or it was a Grant-and"Yah!” said Stack. “I hear the dar- Hayes brick? Why predicate all these ter's set on gettin' a public liberary for American doings of the poor Victoria? Banning doorin' the summer. We hain't It had finials galore; iron endowments no time to fool with liberaries—not now.” tipped the ridge-pole; there was a cu

Is she?” said Arpeggio. Is she?" pola. The veranda, originally a name, And stroked his hair, which was trained had been widened and had become a straight back from brow to crown. Is place, with ways of willow and cretonne, she?" said he, fatuously.

of flower-boxes and little wind harps. “The question is,” said Stack, "who's It was like a beautiful modern jabot on goin' to run it, now Stover's bust his the breast of an old belle. Arpeggio leg.'

rang, and trembled. Why in thunder “I don't think,” Arpeggio offered, had he come? Should he ring again, or mildly—“I don't think Miss Granger thank Heaven and run away? would like that. With or without legs, The door was opened by Something Stover's no man to run a liberary. Pink. She was little and breathless,

“For the love of mud!” Stack May- with that charming breathlessness which hew thundered. “Run the sprinkler!" some women have in their leisure.

"Oh yes. Mud. To be sure. Mud,” "How j' do?" she said. said Arpeggio, and looked out the win “Is Miss Granger in?" Arpeggio put dow.

it earnestly. He was eagerness, tenseThis thought of a library gave Arpeg- ness, expectation incarnate. gio a center for his vague, new energy. bright-eyed, he was ready. The next As a matter of course, he was passively moment he had drooped to the lightly nterested. He had a vast reverence for given blow:

He was

“No, she hain't.”

For some unknown cause, Arpeggio Incredible. Arpeggio stared. Not in? brought out his rare, his beguiling smile, After all the trouble to which he had and smiled it, and continued to regard been to bathe and bedizen? In this her. utterly unforeseen catastrophe, what “Perhaps," he said, “I'd better tell course was open to him? He gazed the you who I am. I'm Shadd, one of the length of the veranda and took his reso- Banning commissioners. I called to see lution.

your mistress on the idear of a new town “I'll wait,” he said, and went down in liberary." a willow chair.

That got her. A commissioner. That The Something Pink hesitated for a was something like a policeman. A new breath, then leaned her plump little body town library. That was something repast the casement and examined Ar mote, glittering, beyond the ken of her. peggio. Not an agent.

Not an agent. A real nice She was silent, and her look changed. gentleman, though queer. Obviously a Beneath that change Arpeggio throve. gentleman whose mind was made up. He became indulgent, saw what a pretty She considered the case. She was in the little thing she was neat, flaxen, and house alone. Well, then, leave him oh, so pink-cheek and mouth and frock. wait. She retired, closed and bolted "What's

your name?” he inquired. the door. Safety for her and his own “Mamie,” she replied, respectfully, as devices for him.

one who might know what it is to say The day was sultry, a daring leap of “sir." May into the

provinces

of summer. “Mamie,” said Arpeggio, and looked Arpeggio, in his eagerness, had walked across the young green of the lawn, rapidly; he was very warm. He laid his where shadows lay waving under the overcoat on a swing, added his hat, young green of the branches. A warm slipped down in his chair to ruminate on wind bore something that smells the way the delights of library planning, and fell perfume ought to smell, and doesn't. asleep. The drowsy air drew him deep Mamie,” said Arpeggio, “sit down. I along the paths he chose. In half an want to talk to you.' hour, That Which Was Pink, bethinking She obeyed, all her indignant deherself of him, tiptoed to the parlor win meanor softened to passivity. dow, peered through the lace curtains, "Do you like to read?” Arpeggio and looked far down Arpeggio's throat. wished to know. She drew herself up, her eyes snapped;

Mamie stiffened. He wanted to do she marched to the door, unbolted it her good! with a noise, and confronted Arpeggio “When I do,” she said, “I get a book rousing. For who could be afraid of a and read it-on my own.” gentleman asleep?

Precisely,” Arpeggio approved her. “Now, then,” she said, crisply, “I'd "But that book—where do you get it?” like to know where you think you are?Mamie was put to it. Where, in fact,

“Bless me!” said Arpeggio, vaguely, did she get it? “bless me! Don't,” he appealed to her, “Of’n Miss Granger,” she mumbled. “tell me I was asleep. He colored “Precisely,” Arpeggio pursued. “And grievously. “Has Miss Granger come if Miss Granger had no books, you would in?”—his tone pleaded for a negative.

have no book. That's what I come to Well, I should think she ain't. If see you about. This here town has got she is, I dun'no' what I'd get.'

to have a liberary." What a universe! what a universe! So “That's what Miss Granger told her complex that a gentleman cannot even ma," said Mamie. take a siesta without involving a lady "Precisely,” said Arpeggio for the whom he has never before seen. Arpeg- third time, and smiled so enchantingly gio studied this lady.

that Mamie smiled back. Then Arpeg“Are you the help?” he inquired, deli- gio closed his sociological investigations cately.

and said, gently—and for no reason“Help yourself!She flashed it back. unless it was the young greenness of I'm a trained one-from a agency.” May, “Mamie, where do you live?"

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