You know quite well. First I was going to apologise for all the thoughts that had ever been in my mind about you and the hospital. I was {259}an utter fool not to have known that you were the most generous Frank corrected the mistake he had made, and said he was too much excited to remember all about the rules of grammar and etiquette. He had even forgotten that he was hungry; at any rate, he had lost his appetite, and hardly touched the juicy steak and steaming potatoes that were before him. San Francisco, the City by the Sea, was full of interest for our young adventurers. They walked and rode through its streets; they climbed its steep hill-sides; they gazed at its long lines of magnificent buildings; they went to the Cliff House, and saw the sea-lions by dozens and hundreds, within easy rifle-shot of their breakfast-table; they steamed over the bay, where the navies of the world might find safe anchorage; they had a glimpse of the Flowery Kingdom, in the Chinese quarter; and they wondered at the vegetable products of the Golden State as they found them in the market-place. Long letters were written home, and before[Pg 47] they had studied California to their satisfaction it was time for them to set sail for what Fred called "the under-side of the world." WORKING UP A RECKONING. WORKING UP A RECKONING. "That was probably sa-kee," replied the Doctor. Frank had made a discovery about the cats of Japan, and carefully recorded it in his letter as follows: A little way off from Dai-Boots are the temples of Kamakura, which are celebrated for their sanctity, and are the objects of much veneration. They are not unlike the other temples of Japan in general appearance; but the carvings and bronze ornamentations are unusually rich, and must have cost a great deal of money. There was once a large city at Kamakura, and traces of it are distinctly visible. The approach to the temples is over some stone bridges, crossing a moat that must have been a formidable defence in the days before gunpowder was introduced into warfare. "What is the use of writing up our Canton experiences," said Frank, "till we know what we are to do? If we go home by San Francisco, we will have plenty of time on the steamer; and if we go on to the west, we will have to go by steamer too; and then we will have time enough between Hong-kong and the first port we stop at. Why should we be in a hurry to write up our account, when, in any case, we shall have the time to do so while we are at sea?" I SHE WANTED TO LAUGH
At a farm-house well hidden in the woods of a creek we got a brave supper for the asking and had our uniforms wonderfully cleaned and pressed, and at ten that evening we dismounted before the three brightly illumined tents of General Austin, Major Harper and that amiable cipher our Adjutant-general. On the front of the last the shadow of a deeply absorbed writer showed through the canvas, and Ferry murmured to me "The ever toiling." It was Scott Gholson. I had heard the same name for him the evening before, from her whose own lovely shadow fell so visibly and so often upon the bright curtain of Ned Ferry's thought. "Understand," I said as I wheeled, "I fully expect her to recover." "Even if he's a myth," interrupted Gregg, "he is still worth investigating. What annoys me is your positive antagonism to the idea that he might be possible. You seem to want to go out of your way to prove me in the wrong. I may add, that once a man has ceased to believe in the impossible he is damned." Gregg swung round with a gesture of annoyance. Both men were now pitched to their highest key, and every word that was spoken seemed to be charged with terrific import. "But why do you persist in adopting this attitude," demanded Gregg, in tones of frank disgust, "it is so frightfully reactionary." There was no date and no address. There was a deal of flourish about the letter as if the writer had learned his craft abroad. It ran as follows: The door closed quietly behind Bruce. Just for a moment the lace-clad figure lay motionless on the couch. Then she rose and swept up and down the room like a tornado. She had shown her hand, she had betrayed her secret, and the man who had her heart scorned her. She was filled with shame and rage and hate. "Go along with your doctor," said Maitrank now, in great good humour. "If you will have the goodness to call a cab I will get back to my hotel." "I'll dress at once," she said. "My bedroom door is locked, so this is the only way I can escape. Get out something dark for me to wear, Hannah." An engine lathe is for many reasons called the master tool in machine fitting. It is not only the leading tool so far as performing a greater share of the work; but an engine lathe as an organised machine combines, perhaps, a greater number of useful and important functions, than any machine which has ever been [122] devised. A lathe may be employed to turn, bore, drill, mill, or cut screws, and with a strong screw-feed may be employed to some extent for planing; what is still more strange, notwithstanding these various functions, a lathe is comparatively a simple machine without complication or perishable parts, and requires no considerable change in adapting it to the various purposes named. FRANCS-TIREURS? My new companion tried desperately to speak as good Dutch as possible, but failed in the most196 deplorable manner; every time pure German words came in between. He told a story that he stayed at Maastricht as a refugee, and now wanted to fetch his children from a girls' boarding-school at Brussels. I pretended to believe every word, and after he had forgotten the first story he made up another, saying that he came from Lige, where some officers who were billeted on him were kind enough to give him a chance of going to Brussels, to purchase stock for his business.
Twenty bookes clothed in blake or red Next morning if we choose, the only requirement being that we do not disturb others-- journey ended I should meet him, too. And you see! Another distinguished compliment was paid to Plotinus after his death by no less an authority than the Pythian Apollo, who at this period had fully recovered the use of his voice. On being consulted respecting the fate of the philosophers soul, the god replied by a flood of bombastic twaddle, in which the glorified spirit of Plotinus is described as released from the chain of human necessity and the surging uproar of the body, swimming stoutly to the storm-beaten shore, and mounting the heaven-illumined path, not unknown to him even in life, that leads to the blissful abodes of the immortals.423 First the gum was in the amphibian, Sandy said, trying to be as modest as the discovery would let him, then it was gone. We thought we saw somebody in the hangar when first we went inbut he got away somehow. Then we saw the amphibian flying and it flashed over me that whoever we had seen before had been working on the amphibian and had chewed up all those pieces of gumbut I didnt see why he had left it there. Then, when we found out that the man calling himself Everdail didnt look for or miss the gum, I guessed that he hadnt been the gum chewerbut who had, then, I wondered. And why. It must have been for some reason, because if he had found the gum when he came to play ghost, keep everybody away from the estate by scaring them, and get the amphibian ready, hed have throw any gum he found into the waste can. You wont find out anything by that, Atley. That very afternoon he passed a news stand and was chained in his tracks by a small headline in black type at one corner of a paper, in a box, or enclosure of ruled lines that set it off from the other news. They were working on the check-up and warming of the engine as they talked. Dick made the objection to Sandys theory. Within half an hour, high in air, the airplane found its quarry! Sandy generously recollected the caretaker and sent back the glass.
Where have you been? demanded Larry. We hunted high and low! We thought something had happened to you when we saw Jeff fly his airplane away, came here and didnt locate you. Sandy, waiting until he got to a shrubbery, moved so it was between him and his quarry. He, too, crossed the ascending turf. Of the fruitful earth, like a goblin elf, It was only some one standing at the mouth of the hole, however, a shadow against the shimmering sunlight. And it was a womanit was Felipa. [Pg 223] They had lived an idyl for two years apast, and he begrudged nothing; yet now that the splendor was fading, as he knew that it was, the future was a little dreary before them both, before him the more, for he meant that, cost him what it might, Felipa should never know that the glamour was going for himself. It would be the easier that she was not subtle of perception, not quick to grasp the unexpressed. As for him, he had wondered from the first what price the gods would put upon the unflawed jewel of their happiness, and had said in himself that none could be too high. The boy explained that it was not that, and she let him go, in relief. The conduct of Vernon, though he had been the Idol of the Opposition, and not of the Ministry, as it became known, increased enormously the unpopularity of Walpole. Though he had literally been forced into the war by the Opposition, the whole of its disasters were charged, not on them, but on him; and they did not hesitate to throw from themselves upon him the odium of all its failures. The general election which now came on was seized upon to load Walpole with all the weight of the unsuccessful war. The Duchess of Marlborough, Pulteney, and the Prince of Wales raised funds to outbribe the master of corruption himself. They incurred heavy debts to complete his ruin, and as the news of the miserable issue of the expedition to the Spanish settlements came in, numbers of those who had been returned to Parliament as friends of the Ministry turned round and joined the Opposition in violent denunciations of the mismanagement of the war. Lord Chesterfield, whilst these transactions had been progressing, had hastened on to Avignon, and, taking up his quarters with the Duke of Ormonde, obtained from the Pretender letters to nearly a hundred Jacobites in England and Scotland, engaging them to put out all their power and influence against Walpole. Some time after dark, and after the Deacon's patience had become well-nigh exhausted, the railroad men came around with a lantern, and told him that at last it was settled, and the train would move out very soon. There had been conflicting orders during the day, but now the Chief Quartermaster at Nashville had ordered the train forward. Sure enough, the train pulled out presently, and went rattling up toward Shelbyville. Again the Deacon's heart bounded high, and after watching the phantom-like roadside for awhile, he grew very sleepy, and crawled in alongside of Si. He waked up at daylight, and went at once to the car-door hopefully expecting to recognize the outskirts of Nashville, or at least Murfreesboro. To his dismay, he saw the same sutler's shanty, mule-corral, pile of baled-hay, and the embalmer's sign on a tree which had been opposite them while standing on the track at Bridgeport. "Corpril Elliott," Shorty corrected him, mindful of the presence of Sergeant Bob Ramsey. The silence of the woods and the mountains as night drew on became more oppressive than the crashing sounds, the feverish movements, and the strained expectancy of the day had been.
"Good boy," Albin said absently. "What's your name?" Manure was his great idea at that moment. He had carefully tilled and turned the soil, and he fed it with manure as one crams chickens. It was of poor quality marl, mostly lime on the high ground, with a larger proportion of clay beside the ditch. Reuben's plan was to fatten it well before he sowed his seed. Complaints of his night-soil came all the way from Grandturzel; Vennal, humorously inclined, sent him a bag of rotten fish; on the rare occasions his work allowed him to meet other farmers at the Cocks, his talk was all of lime, guano, and rape-cake, with digressions on the possibilities of seaweed. He was manure mad. Something thick and icy seemed to creep into his blood, and he gripped the edge of the pew, as he stared at Realf, sitting there so unconsciously, his damped and brushed hair gleaming ruddily in the light that poured through some saint's aureole. He must not let this youngster beat him.... Beat him?the ice in his blood froze thickerafter all he had not done so very much during the twenty-six years he had toiled and struggled; he had won only a hundred acres of Boarzelllittle more than Realf had to start with ... and Realf was only twenty-five. "I'm sick of all this, I'm sick of the old man and his beastliness. Miss Bardon is lending me money to go to London University, and perhaps I shall read for the Bar." At Odiam Rose shook off her seriousness. Supper was ready, and undaunted by the huge meal she had already eaten, she sat down to it with a hearty appetite. Her step-children stared at her curiouslyRose had a gust of affection for them. Poor things!their lives had been so crude and dull and innocent. She must give them a little brightness now, soften the yoke of Reuben's tyrannythat girl Caro, for instance, she must[Pg 259] give her some pretty clothes and show her how to arrange her hair becomingly. David nudged William. His loneliness seemed to drive Reuben closer to the earth. He still had that divine sense of the earth being at once his enemy and his only friend. Just as the gorse which murders the soil with its woody fibres sweetens all the air with its fragrance, so Reuben when he fought the harsh strangling powers of the ground also drank up its sweetness like honey. He did not work so hard as formerly, though he could still dig his furrow with the best of themhe knew that the days had come when he must spare himself. But he maintained his intercourse with the earth by means of long walks in the surrounding country. The dying throes of the buck recalled Byles to the object of his journey; and they were about making an effort to extricate the animal from the brushwood, when the servitor's eye caught the gleam of a light in the cottage. It was a full hour, however, before the indefatigable purveyor re-appeared, accompanied by a dark, sun-burnt looking young man, attired in the garb of a dusty-foot or foreign pedlar. He appeared to be one of an inferior description of Galley-men, or Genoese merchants, (as described by Stowe,) who traded to England, and trafficked with a coin called galley-half-pence. They chiefly resided at a wharf named Galley Key, in Thames-street, and travelled as itinerant hawkers through the kingdom. His countenance, however, was not that of a Genoeseit had more the appearance of the English cast of features, though, judging from its dark and seaman-like hue, it was many years since he left his native country. Mary was of a florid complexion; but at this unexpected question, she stood before the searching look of the baron with her cheeks as colourless as if she had been struck by the angel of death.