Genre Fiction. Page - 250

partans better than himself. I suppose hewas in earnest; there is no reason to doubt it. That was a citizen.

A Spartan mother had five sons with the army. A Helot arrived;trembling she asked his news. "Your five sons are slain." "Vileslave, was that what I asked thee?" "We have won the victory."She hastened to the temple to render thanks to the gods. That wasa citizen.

He who would preserve the supremacy of natural feelings in sociallife knows not what he asks. Ever at war with himself, hesitatingbetween his wishes and his duties, he will be neither a man nora citizen. He will be of no use to himself nor to others. He willbe a man of our day, a Frenchman, an Englishman, one of the greatmiddle class.

To be something, to be himself, and always at one with himself, aman must act as he speaks, must know what course he ought to take,and must follow that course with vigour and persistence. When Imeet this miracle it will be time enough to decide whether he isa man or a citizen, or how he cont

kly to do any good. A school would be his death. When he comes tobe a little stronger, who knows what a year or two's Latin may do forhim?

HARDCASTLE. Latin for him! A cat and fiddle. No, no; the alehouseand the stable are the only schools he'll ever go to.

MRS. HARDCASTLE. Well, we must not snub the poor boy now, for Ibelieve we shan't have him long among us. Anybody that looks in hisface may see he's consumptive.

HARDCASTLE. Ay, if growing too fat be one of the symptoms.

MRS. HARDCASTLE. He coughs sometimes.

HARDCASTLE. Yes, when his liquor goes the wrong way.

MRS. HARDCASTLE. I'm actually afraid of his lungs.

HARDCASTLE. And truly so am I; for he sometimes whoops like aspeaking trumpet--(Tony hallooing behind the scenes)--O, there hegoes--a very consumptive figure, truly.

Enter TONY, crossing the stage.

MRS. HARDCASTLE. Tony, where are you going, my charmer? Won't yougive papa and I a little of your company, lovee?

TONY. I'm in haste, mother; I cannot

"Oil!" Deston exclaimed, involuntarily, as everything fell into place in his mind. The way she walked; poetry in motion ... the oil-witch ... two empires ... more millions than he had dimes.... "Oh, you're Barbara Warner, then."

"Why, of course; but my friends call me 'Bobby'. Didn't you--but of course you didn't--you never read passenger lists. If you did, you'd've got a tingle, too."

"I got plenty of tingle without reading, believe me. However, I never expected to----"

"Don't say it, dear!" She got up and took both his hands in hers. "I know how you feel. I don't like to let you ruin your career, either, but nothing can separate us, now that we've found each other. So I'll tell you this." Her eyes looked steadily into his. "If it bothers you the least bit, later on, I'll give every dollar I own to some foundation or other, I swear it."

He laughed shamefacedly as he took her in his arms. "Since that's the way you look at it, it won't bother me a bit."

in, and charged back with a roar.

Both Tom and Astro and Tony Richards and McAvoy grabbed at their respective unit mates and tried to restrain them. In the struggle to keep Roger and Davison apart, Astro accidentally pushed Richards to one side.

"What in blazes--!" yelled Richards. He suddenly released Davison and gave Astro a shove that sent the big cadet sprawling. And then, without warning, McAvoy swung at Tom. The curly-haired cadet saw the blow coming a fraction of a second too late and caught it on the side of his head. He fell back into the bushes.

Roger yelled in anger at the sudden attack, and grabbing Davison by the front of his tunic, slammed a hard right into the cadet's stomach. Richards grabbed Roger, holding him around the head and neck, as McAvoy swung at him viciously. Seeing their unit mate pommeled, Tom and Astro charged back and the battle was on. The two units forgot about the watch officers and the strong possibility of being caught and slugged it out in the darkness

oung men, who desired to do a braverthing than any of their fellows, set out in quest of this fruit. Many ofthem returned no more; none of them brought back the apples. No wonderthat they found it impossible to gather them! It is said that there wasa dragon beneath the tree, with a hundred terrible heads, fifty ofwhich were always on the watch, while the other fifty slept.

In my opinion it was hardly worth running so much risk for the sake of asolid golden apple. Had the apples been sweet, mellow, and juicy, indeedthat would be another matter. There might then have been some sense intrying to get at them, in spite of the hundred-headed dragon.

But, as I have already told you, it was quite a common thing with youngpersons, when tired of too much peace and rest, to go in search of thegarden of the Hesperides. And once the adventure was undertaken by ahero who had enjoyed very little peace or rest since he came into theworld. At the time of which I am going to speak, he was wanderingthrough th

abundance of such foods, and even the poor enjoyed a rough plenty.'

The last words are true of the hamlet of Lark Rise. Because they were still an organic community, subsisting on the food, however scanty and monotonous, they raised themselves, they enjoyed good health and so, in spite of grinding poverty, no money to spend on amusements and hardly any for necessities, happiness. They still sang out-of-doors and kept May Day and Harvest Home. The songs were travesties of the traditional ones, but their blurred echoes and the remnants of the old salty country speech had not yet died and left the fields to their modern silence. The songs came from their own lips, not out of a box.

Charity (in the old sense) survived, and what Laura's mother called the 'seemliness' of a too industrious life. Yet the tradition of the old order was crumbling fast. What suffered most visibly was the inborn aesthetic faculty, once a common possession of all countrymen. Almanacs for samplers, the 'Present from Brighton

sum invalue five times the fortune which she has a right to expect from herhusband. This shall lie in your hands, together with her dowry, and youmay apply the united sum as suits her interest best; it shall be allexclusively hers while she lives: is that liberal?"

Douw assented, and inwardly acknowledged that fortune had beenextraordinarily kind to his niece; the stranger, he thought, must beboth wealthy and generous, and such an offer was not to be despised,though made by a humourist, and one of no very prepossessing presence.Rose had no very high pretensions for she had but a modest dowry, whichshe owed entirely to the generosity of her uncle; neither had she anyright to raise exceptions on the score of birth, for her own origin wasfar from splendid, and as the other objections, Gerald resolved, andindeed, by the usages of the time, was warranted in resolving, not tolisten to them for a moment.

"Sir" said he, addressing the stranger, "your offer is liberal, andwhatever hesitation I may

ishnu, beneficent and the beneficence itself, worthy of allpreference, pure and immaculate; who is Hari, the ruler of the faculties,the guide of all things moveable and immoveable; I will declare the sacredthoughts of the illustrious sage Vyasa, of marvellous deeds and worshippedhere by all. Some bards have already published this history, some are nowteaching it, and others, in like manner, will hereafter promulgate it uponthe earth. It is a great source of knowledge, established throughout thethree regions of the world. It is possessed by the twice-born both indetailed and compendious forms. It is the delight of the learned for beingembellished with elegant expressions, conversations human and divine, anda variety of poetical measures.'"

In this world, when it was destitute of brightness and light, andenveloped all around in total darkness, there came into being, as theprimal cause of creation, a mighty egg, the one inexhaustible seed of allcreated beings. It is called Mahadivya, and was form

I thought might operate beneficially upon the flighty temper ofTurkey, and the fiery one of Nippers.

I should have stated before that ground glass folding-doors divided mypremises into two parts, one of which was occupied by my scriveners, theother by myself. According to my humor I threw open these doors, orclosed them. I resolved to assign Bartleby a corner by thefolding-doors, but on my side of them, so as to have this quiet manwithin easy call, in case any trifling thing was to be done. I placedhis desk close up to a small side-window in that part of the room, awindow which originally had afforded a lateral view of certain grimyback-yards and bricks, but which, owing to subsequent erections,commanded at present no view at all, though it gave some light. Withinthree feet of the panes was a wall, and the light came down from farabove, between two lofty buildings, as from a very small opening in adome. Still further to a satisfactory arrangement, I procured a highgreen folding screen, w

over her account. The last check but one paid her bill atLausanne, but it was a large one and probably left her with cashin hand. Only one check has been drawn since."

"To whom, and where?"

"To Miss Marie Devine. There is nothing to show where the checkwas drawn. It was cashed at the Credit Lyonnais at Montpellierless than three weeks ago. The sum was fifty pounds."

"And who is Miss Marie Devine?"

"That also I have been able to discover. Miss Marie Devine wasthe maid of Lady Frances Carfax. Why she should have paid herthis check we have not yet determined. I have no doubt, however,that your researches will soon clear the matter up."

"MY researches!"

"Hence the health-giving expedition to Lausanne. You know that Icannot possibly leave London while old Abrahams is in such mortalterror of his life. Besides, on general principles it is bestthat I should not leave the country. Scotland Yard feels lonelywithout me, and it causes an unhealthy excitement among thecriminal clas