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Newspaper Page Text
THE MYSTERY OF OM
By George Munson.
She was not his Molly. John Beatty
realized that as, attired in a stiff
shirt, which gave him a sensation of
impending asphyxia and a suit of
evening clothes, which made him feel
like a waiter, he stood moodily beside
the door and watched his fiancee
moving among her guests.
He had returned from the West
after a three years' absence. He had
"Night and Day, Forever 1 Dream of
gone to make his fortune in the
mines and Molly had said she would
be true to him. He had made the for
tune and Molly had been true, but
. . . Well, this was not the sim
ple, pretty country girl whom he had
left three years before.
There was incense in the air and
Beatty liked the incense of whole
some -oxygen. There were three J
poets present John did not mind
poets, but these had long, greasy hair
and dirty finger-nails. And he posi
tively loathed the black man in the
turban, who was holding forth a rapt
audience Molly included upon the
mysteries of Yoga.
"To attain the infinite?" he was
saying with a supercilious smile. "It
is easy, ladies. Concentrate! Con
centrate and repeat without cessation
the magic syllable 'Om.' Then
breathe in lightly through the left
nostril, concentrate all feelings in
the center of the spine, and exhale
through the alternate nostril, mean
while repeating the magic syllable
After that canie a lecture upon
Esoteric Buddhism, as set fortlj by
the great seer and sage Patanjali,
several hundred centuries before
Molly had opened her pretty eyes in
Binghampton, N. Y.
After the guests had gone John
Beatty stood facing Molly alone.. He
was sick at heart and angry words
rose to his lips.
"Don't you see, Molly, this isn't
real?" he was saying.. "It isn't whole
some. That black man "
"You mean Mr. Ramsammy Chun
dra Ghee?" inquired Molly, with omi
"I do," said Beatty. "I don't like to
see you mixed up with a crowd of
fakers like those, dear. If he wants
to concentrate on the infinite let him
do his breathing exercises in some
good gymnasium. Why, Molly, there
isn't a real man or woman among ali
that crowd. You seem to have
"Yes, I have changed, John," an
swered Molly. "I have found myself.
And you haven't changed. You have
lost yourself in the whirl of worldly
interests. It isn't any use, John. We.
could never be happy together. I
want to live in the soul, to have my
spiritual freedom. We could never be
happy together." "
"You want to break our engage
ment?" asked Beatty coldly,