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Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, August 06, 1922, Image 54

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Just a Little About j
Mr. Cabell is to me a very pi
I called him up when I reached Ri<
1 he lives five miles out of that to
j; solicitation of Joseph Hergeshcimt
! interest.
I wanted to talk to Mr. Cabell
! but the warm sunshine and the spr
sometimes erroneously associates
> where. It was snowing when I ari
1 a jeweled city of gleaming icicles
! I did not meet Mr. Cabell, becausi
kindly to the weather and motor ti
If James Branch Cabell had w
of "Jurgen" alone he would have a
I The book has the distinction of
j: country, and copies of the Americ
J sum. There is an English edition
i They were very enthusiastic over
, other books are an additional reasc
' literature.
"The Bright Bees of Toupan"
writer who would have treated th
II riage in this perfectly delightful fa
After all, should artists mart
I Cabell. MAR1
wonderfully prospered at
magic. He was, as they say,
now blessed with more than
any reasonable person would ask for,
and the most claimant of these superfluities
appeared to him to be his wife.
They tell how Miramon was one of
the Leahy, born of a people that was
neither human nor immortal, telling
how his home was builded upon the
summit of the mountain called Vraidex.
Here in the old days dwelt
Miramon Liuagor. at a discreet remove
from the prudishness of men
and the disreputable amours of the
High Gods, retiredly in his Doubltful
Palace, wherein, as they report also,
this wizard designed the dreams for
His taste was for the richly romantic.
But his wife Gisele had quite
other notions, a whole set of notions,
and her philosophy was that of belligerent
individualism. And the wizard
to keep peace, at least in the intervals
between his wife's more
mordantly loquacious moments, would
design such dreams as Gisele preferred.
But he knew that these
dreams did not express the small
thoughts and fancies which harbored
in the heart of Miramon Liuagor. and
which would perish with the falling
of his doom unless he wrought the
fancies into dreams that, being fleshless,
might evade carnivorous time.
And Miramon hungered for the lost
freedom of his bachelorhood.
* * * *
TTIS wife also was discontent, be(
cause the ways of the Leshy appeared
to this mortal woman indecorous.
The doom that were upon the
Leshy seemed not entirely in good
taste to her who had been born of a
?-ar.o ahnnf whom destiny did not
bother; in fact, It was a continual Irritation
to her that her little boy,
Demetrios was predestinate to kill
his father with the charmed sword
Flamberge. This was a doom which
Madame Gisele found not at all the
sort of thins you cared to have Imminent
In your own family; and she
felt that the sooner the gray Norns,
who weave the fate of all that live,
c were spoken to quite candidly, the
better It would be tor everybody con- ,
cerned. <
She was irritated by the mere sight <
of Flamberge. So her thinking was i
not of silk and honey when, after i
polishing the sword as was her usage i
upon Thursday morning, she came I
Into Miramon's Ivory tower to hang .
the weapon in its right place. With
Miramon sat that sleek person whom
men called Nlnstan. It was not known
to all of Nlniian's friends that he was
an evil spirit who had come out of
the Bottomless Pit to work iniquity;
but Mlramon I-lluagor knew this, and
therefore he made appropriate use of
the demon, and Indeed upon this very ;
afternoon the two were looking at <
that which Nlnslan had procured for
the wisard at a price. ,
"Good-day to you, Sir NInsian."
says Madame Gisele, politely enough. ,
And then she spoke, in a different
tone, to Miramon Lluagor. "And with
what are you cluttering up the house
now:1' ,
"Ah, wife." replies Miramon, 'hhese (
are the bees of Toupan. a treasure ,
beyond word or thinking. They are j
not as other bees, for theirs is the ,
appearance of shining Ice; and they j
crawl fretfully, as they have crawled ,
since Toupan's downfall, about this j
cross of black stone " ,
"That Is a very likely story for you
to be telling me. who can see that
the disgusting creatures have wings j
to fly away with whenever they want t
to. And besides, who In the world
is Toupan?" (
"He is nobody in this world, wife, j
and It Is wiser not to speak of him. (
I.et it suffice that he made all things
as they were. Then Koshchel took
the power from Toupan and made all
things as they are. Tet three of
Toupan's servitors endure upon the
earth, where they who were once
lords of the Vendlsh have now no
power remaining save to creep
humbly as insects: the use of their
wings is denied them, the charmed
stone holds them immutably. Oho,
but, wifi, there is a cantrap which
would free them, a cantrap which
nobody has as yet discovered, and to
their releaser will be granted whatever
his will may .desire."
"This Is some more of your stuff
and nonsense, out of old fairy tales,
where everybody gets three wishes
and no good out of any of them."
"No. my love, because I shall put
them to quite practical uses. For you
must know that whan I have found
t. out the cantrap which will release
the bees of Toupan "
a * *
r* IBELE showed plainly that his
^-7 foolishness did not concern .her.
She sighed, and hung the sword .In
" Its accustomed place. "Oh, but I am
" *W1? eadtase W<*gHl*v" 1
wvar/ wi uiw ? - ? ? "Then,
wife," say* Mlramon,' "then
why are you perpetually meddling 1
/with what you do not understand!" "I
think," eald Nlnslan, at once, '
for this demon, too, was married, "I I
think that I had best be going."
But Oisele's attention was reserved I
for her husband. "I meddle, as you so
very politely call It, because you have l
no sense of what is right and proper, i
no sense of morals, no sense of ex- I
pediency, and in fact, no sense at al{." j
Mlramon said, "Notf, dearest
Sir Nlnslan was hastily ptoking up i
his hat. But Sis ale continued, with |
that resistless and devastating onflow
which is peculiar to tidal waves, and
the tongue of her speaks for her hus. i
, band's town good. ' j
"Women everywhere have a hard
time of it, hat la particular do I pity
ames Branch Cabell
easant voice over the telephone,
rhmond, Va., one day last spring;
wn. He had already joined the
ERICAN FICTION through the
:r, who had offered to enlist his
about his story for the program,
ing flowers that the New Yorker
with Virginia were visiting elserived,
and Richmond had become'
when I left the next morning.
: the roads to town did not take
raveling was unsafe,
ritten nothing; else, as the author
unique place in American letters,
having been suppressed in this
:an edition now bring a fabulous
i that has reached these shores,
it in England. But Mr. Cabell's
in for his high place in American
follows, and I know of no other i
ie very intricate subject of marirytale
y? I leave it to you?and Mr.
the woman that Is married to one of
you moonstruck artists. She has not
half a husband, she has but the tending
of a baby with long lege
"It U so much later than I thought,
that really now " observed Ninzian,
"And I might have had an earl or
a well-thought-of-baron, who would
have had the decency to remember
our anniversary and my birthday,
and in any event would never have
been In the house twenty-four hours
a day. . Insead, here I am tied to a
muddle-head who fritters away his
time contriving dreams that nobody
cares about one way or the other.
Yet if only you would be sensible
about your allly business I eould
put up with the inconvenience of having
you underfoot every moment.
People need dreams to help them
through the night, and nobody enjoys
a really good dream more than I do
when I have time for It, with the
million and one things that are put
upon me. But dreams ought to be
wholesome, they ought to point an
uplifting moral, and certainly they
ought not to be about incomprehensible
thin nonsense that nobody
can half way understand. They ought,
in a word, to make you feel that
the world is a pretty good sort of
place after all."
"But, wife. I am not sure that it
is," says Miramon, midly.
"Then the more shame to you. and
the very least you can do is to keep
such morbid notions to yourself and
not be upsetting other people's repose
with them."
"I employ my natural gift, I express
myself and none other. The
rose bush does not put forth wheat,
nor flax neither," returned the wlxard.
with a tired shrug. "In fine, what
would you have?"
"Oh. a great deal it means to you
what I prefer! But if I had my wish
your silly dream- making would be
taken away from you so 3that we
might live sensibly.
? * * *
VfOW as she spoke Gisele slapped
viciously at the black cross. And
a thing happened to behold which
would have astonished the mages
and the enchanters who had given
Dver centuries to searching for the
mantrap which would release the bees
->( Toupan. For now without any
exercise of magic the scouring rag
swept from the stone one of these
Insects. Koshchel, who made all
(Continued from Second Pare.)
gentle fashion, more laughter-loving
every day.
* * *
-pHE Saint Martina summer lasted
to the beginning of December,
and then it came to an end, and with
it the idyll of Artstlde and Anne
One Saturday afternoon, when the
rain was falling dismally, she received
him with an embarrassment
she could scarcely conceal. The usual
heightened color no longer gave
i'Quth to her cheek; an anxious frown
knitted Iter candid brows, and there
aas no laughter In her eyea. He
ooked ?t her questionlngly. Was
inything the matter with Jean? But
lean answered the question for himself
by running down the passage and
springing like a puppy into Arlstide's
Anne turned her face away, as if
:he sight pained her, and, pleading a
eadache and the desire to lie down,
ihe left the two together. Returning
ifter a couple of hours with the tea
:ray, she found them on the floor
3reathles.8ly absorbed in the erection
>f card pagodas. She. bit her lip and
swallowed a sob. Ariatlde jumped up
ind took the tray. Was not the
leadache better? He was so grieved.
Jean must be very quiet and drink
jp his milk quietly like a hero, because
auntie was suffering. Tea was
i very subdued affair. Then Anne
carried off Jean to bed, refusing
Aristide's helpful ministrations. It
was his Saturday and Sunday joy to
bathe Jean amid a score of crawly
:In insects which he had provided for
:he child's ablutlonary entertainment,
tnd it formed the climax of Jean's
blissful day. But this afternoon Anne
tore the twain asunder.
Aristlde looked mournfully over
the rain-swept common through the
eaded pane* and speculated on the
inigma of woman. A man, feeHng
111, would have been only too glad
For somebody to do his work; but a
Broman, just because she was 111, defined
assistance. Surely women
were an Intellect baffling sex.
She ci.me .'back, having put Jean to
led. _ v
"My dear friend," she said, with a
Hurt of bravery, *1 have something
rery hard to say, but I must say it.
fou must go away from Beverly
"Ah!" erled Arlstide, "is tt I, then,
that gives you a headache?"
"It's not your fault," she said gently.
nrou have been everything that
t loyal gentleman could be?and it's
lecause you're a loyal gentleman that
rou must go."
"I don't understand," said he. pudk
tied. "I must. go away because ' I
[lve you a headache, although it is
lot my fault."
"It's nothing to do with headaches,"
the explained. "Don't you see? PeoHa
around here are Ulklng."
"About you and me?"
"Tea," said Miss Anus, faintly.
(Jl I
things as they are, had decreed, i
they report, that these bright perils
could be freed only in the most obvious
way, because he knew this .
would be the last method attempted
by any learned person.
Now for an instant the walls of the <
Ivory tower were aquiver like blown 1
veils. And the bee passed glitteringly
to the window, and through the ;
clear glass of the closed window, <
leaving a small round hole there, as
the creature went to join its seven
sfT MA
"Saprelotte!' cried Aristide, with a
fine flourish, "let them talk!"
"Against Jean and myself?"
The reproach brought him to his
feet. "No," said he. "No. Sooner
than they should talk I will go out
and strangle every one of them. But
It Is infamous. What do they say?"
"How can I tell you? What would
they say In your own country?"
"France le France and England Is 1
"And a little, cackling village is
the'same all the world over. No, my '
dear friend?for you are my dear
friend?you must go back to London
for the sake of my good name and
Jean's." '
"But let us leave the cackling village."
"There are geese on every com- ,
mon," said Anne.
"Now de Bleu"' muttered Aristide, ,
walking about the tiny parlor. "Nom ,
de Dleu de nom de Dleu!" He stood ]
in front of her and flung out his arms ,
wide. "But without Jean and you )
life will have no meaning for me. I |
shall die. I shall fade away. I shall j
perish. Tell me, dear Miss Anne, i
what they are saying, the miserable i
peasants with souls of mud." t
* * a * i
ANNE could tell him no more. It :
had been hateful and degrading '
to tell him so much. 31ie shivered
through all her purity. After a bar- '
ren discussion, she held out her hand, 1
large and generous like herself.
"Gpod-bye." She hesitated for the 1
fraction of a second. "Good-bye, Arls- (
tide. I promise you shall provide for i
Jean's future. I will bring him up .
to iiOnaon now ana mail to sea you.
We will And some way out of the
difficulty. But you see, don't you, that
you muit leave Beverly 8toke?"
Arletide went back to hla comfortleaa
lodgings aflame with bewilderment,
Indignation and deepalr. He
fell upon Mrs. Buttershaw, a slatternly
and Bour-visaged woman, and
hurled at her a tornado of questions.
She responded with the glee of. a hag,
and Arlstlde learned the amaslng
fact that in the matter of sheer uncharltableness,
unkindness and foulness
of thought Beverly Stoke, with
its population of 300 hinds, oould
have brought down upon it the righteous
Indignation of Sodom, Gomorralh,
Babylon, Paris and London. For a
fortnight or so Anne Honeywood's
life In the villAge had been that of
a pariah dog.
"And now you've spoke of it yourself,"
said Mrs. Buttershaw, her hands
pn her hips, "I'm glad. I'm a respectable
woman. I am, and go to church
regularly, and don't want to be mixed
up in such goings on. And I never
have held with foreigners, anyway. And
the sooner you And other lodgings, the
For the first and only time in his life <
words failed Ariatide Pujol. Ha stood l
in front of the virtuous harridan, hie
Upa working, hla Oncers convulsively 4
etaoaMoc the air. . , :j. t
fellows in the Pleiades.
Toupan, afloat in the void, unclosed
his ancient unappeasable eyes, and
Jacy returned to his aforetime estate
in the moon, and all plants and trees
everywhere were withered, and the
sea also lost its greenness, and
there weTe no more emeralds, and'
the High Gods were appalled to see
their doom so near at hand, and they
cried out to Koshchef, who devised
Koshchei answered: "Have paRTIN'S
an!" he gasped, and, sweeping her
away from the doorway of his box of
a sitting room, he rushed up to his
tinier bedroom and in furious haste
packed his portmanteau.
"I would rathej die than sleep another
night beneath your slanderous
roof," he cried at the foot of the stairs.
"Here, is more than your week's
money." He flung a couple of gold
coins on the flour and dashed out into
the darkness and the rain.
He hammered at Anne Honeywood's
door. She opened it in some alarm.
"You??but " she stammered.
"I have come," said he, dumping his
portmanteau in the passage, "to take
you and Jean away from this abomination
of a place. It is a Tophet reserved
for those who are not good enough for
hell. In hell there is dignity, que
liable! Here there is none. I know
what you have suffered. I know how
they insult you. I know what they
say. You cannot stay one more night
here. Pack up all your things. Pack
up all Jean's things. I have my valise
here. I walk to St. Albans and I come
hack for you In an automobile. You
lock up the door. I tell the policeman
to guard the cottage. You come with
me. We take a train to London. You
and Jean will stay at a hotel. I will go
to my good friend who saved me from
Madam Gougasse. After that we will
"That's Just like you." she said,
smiling in spite of her trouble, "you
act first and think afterwards. Unfortunately
I'm in the habit of doing
the reverse."
"But It's I who am doing all the
thinking for you. I have thought till
my brain is red hot." He laughed in
his luminous and excited way, and,
seizing both her hands, kissed them
me after the other. "There!" said he,
"be ready by the time I return. Do not
hesitate. Do not look back. Remember
Lot's wife!" He flourished his hat
ind was gone' like a flash Into the
heavy rain and darkness of the December
evening. Anne cried after him, but
ie, too, remembering Lot's wife, would
not turn. He marched on buoyantly,
teedless of the treat and the squirting
mud from unseen puddles. It was. an
tdventure such as he loved. It waa a
tnlghfly errand, parbleu! Waa he not
lellverlng a beautiful lady from the
Iragon of calumny? And in an automobile,
too! His imagination fondled
the Idea. '
A T a garage In St. Albans he readily
^ found a car for hire. He waa all
for driving It himself-<-that is how he
tad pictured the rescue?but the proprietor.
dull and unimaginative
tradesman, declined firmly. It was a
hireling who drove the car to Beverly
Stoke. Ann, unhatted and uncloaked,
tdmltted him.
"You are not ready?"
"My dear friend, how can I V
"You are not coming?" His hands
trapped to his sides and his face waa
the incarnation of disappointment.
"Let na talk things oven reasqnibly,"
she urged, opening the pan or
"But I have brought the autojjao
tlence! When Toupan Is released I fall
with you. Meanwhile I have made
all things as they are."
And In that inhtant Miramdn Lluagor,
as he stood blinking In his ivory
tower, was aware of a touch upon his
forehead, as If a damp sponge were
passing over it, and he perceived
that he had forgotten the secret of
his wisardry. Something he could yet
recall, they say, of the magic of the
Purln and the cast atones, of the
Horse and the Bull of the Water, and
; sump
"He can wait for Ave minutes, can't
"He can wait till doomsday," said
"Take off your dripping coat. You
must be wet through. Oh, how Impulsive
you are!"
He took off his overcoat dejectedly
and followed her into the parlor,
where she tried to point out the impossibility
of his scheme. How could
she abandon her home at a moment's
notice? Failing to convince him, she
said at last in some embarrassment,
but with gentle dignity: "Suppose we
did run away together In your romantic
fastyon, would it not confirm
the scandal in the eyes of this wretched
"You are right." said Ariatide. "I
nau nut Lnougm ui it.
He knew himself to be a madman.
It was not thus that ladies were rescued
from calumny. But to leave her
alone to face it for time indefinite
was unthinkable. And, meanwhile,
what would become of him, severed
from her and little Jean He sighed
and looked around the little room
where he had been so happy, and at
the sweet-faced woman whose companionship
had been so dear to ,him.
And then the true meaning of all the
precious things that had been his life
for the past two months appeared before
him like a smiling valley hitherto
hidden and now revealed by dissolving
mist. A great gladness gathered
round his heart. He leaned
across the table by which he was
sitting and looked at her and for the
first time noticed that her eyes were
"You have been crying, dear Anne,"
said he, using her name boldly.
A man ought not to put a question
like that at a woman's head and bid
her stand and deliver. How is she
to answer? Anne felt Aristlde's
bright eyes upon her and the color
mounted and mounted and deepened
no tier cheeks and brow.
"I don't like changes," she said in a 1
low voice.
Artstlde slipped noiselessly to the
side of her chair and knelt on one
knee and took her hand.
"Anne?my beloved Anne!" said he.1
And Anne neither moved nor protested,
but looked away from him
into the fire. i
* ? * w
AND that is all Aristlde told me.
There are seared end beautiful
things in life that one man does not
tell to another. He did. however,
mention that they forgot all about
the unfortunate chauffeur sitting in
the rain till about three hours afterward.
when Aristlde sped away to a St.
Albans hotel in joyous solitude.
The very neat day he burst in upon
me in a state of bliss bordering on
"But there's a tragic side to It," he
said when the story was over. "Tor
half the year X shall be exiled, to Bordeaux,
Marseilles and Algiers as the
The author of "Jurgen" writes
new story for All-Star Program
\ \ ^fl|
JP& \ JH
MR / y
Ly y H
most of the lore of the Apsarasas and
the Faidhin remained to him. He ,
could still make shift, he knew, to j
control the bitter Duergrar, to build
the fearful bridge of the White
Ladies, or to contrive the dance of
the Korred. He kept his mastery of ,
the Shedeem who devastate, of the
Shehireem who terrify, and of the
Mazikeen who destroy. But such accomplishments,
as he despairingly
knew, were the stock in trade of any
fairly competent sorcerer anywhere;
representative of Dulau et Compagnio."
"The very best thing that could
happen for your domestic happiness,"
said I.
"What? With my heart"?he
thumped his heart?"with my heart
hurting like the devil all the time?"
"So long as your heart hurts," said
I, "you know it isn't dead."
A short wnue atterwara tney were
married in London. I was best man
and Jean, specklessly attired, was
page of honor, while the vicar of her
own church at Chislehurst performed
the ceremony. The most myopic of
creatures could have seen that Anne
was foolishly in love with her rascal
husband. How could she help it?
As soon as the newly wedded pair
sternation of the officiating clergy,
tide, darting to the altar rail, caught
Where the
BIRDS are guided by an Inherited
instinct, and with Implicit i
faith they follow the natural
law. They have no calendar to
indicate the date for migration, no
blue print for the building of nests,
nor do lurid advertisements proclaim !
where the fattest worms thrive or the
ripest berries grow. Are these in- <
stlncts the same as those of their
feathered ancestors why lived before i
civilisation had disfigured their forests
with cities and crowded dut the i
birds? Or do they develop instincts
to meet the changing conditions 1
which the progress of mankind has '
Inflicted upon them? It would seem
as though the latter were the case. i
In New Zealand there Is a bird, the <
kea, which has acquired a remark- <
able knowledge of anatomy since pas- '
toral pursuits have been Introduced '
into that country. The kea, or moun- i
tain parrot, is of drab color, but when
extended in flight there is a flash of <
vivid yellow beneath his wings. He i
has a curved beak like Iron and claws i
that clutch and cling. He is cruel, 1
crafty, and his voice screechea tri- i
| umpnanuy <ie ?uuo ?numci mui I
der and theft to his long list of
This bird is found in the South
Island and his general headquarters
are at Mount Cook, in the Southern
Alps, which alone affords him sanctuary.
From here h* raids the Canterbury
plains, leaving death and devastation,
suffering ar.d loss In his train. The
Canterbury plains extend for 160
miles from north to south and from
the coast to the Alps and are the largest
pastoral and grasing district in
New Zealand. Near the coast the
land Is' more fertile and wheat and
potato crops are grown, but as It
nears the Alpine region It is used
for raising sheep, the famous Canterbury
mutton. Gradually it changes
from sheep to the acre to acres to
"* *' ' . -
' By Jame
and that supreme secret which had
made Mlramon Lluagor the master of
all dreams was gone away from him
He was very angry. "Accursed
woman!" he cried out, "how Indeed
has your common-sense completed
what your nagging began. This Is
the doom of all artists that have to
do with well conducted women.
Truly has It been said that marriage
is the grave of art. Well, I have put
up with much from you, but this
settles It, and I wish you were In the
middle of next week.'.'
With that he caught the soiled
scouring rag from the hand of
Clsele, and he slapped at one of the
remaining bees, and brushed It from
the black cross. And this bee departed
as the other had done.
Toupan now fnoved his wings, exulting,
and by his moving the worlds
In that part of the universe were
dislodged and ran melting down the
sky. Gauracy swept the fragments
together and formed a sun Immeasurably
greater than that which he
had lost. And the High Gods were
frightened now with reason, for In
this Intolerable glare They showed
as flimsy and Incredible inventions,
and They knew that If ever the last
remaining bee were freed from the
rross, the disain of the Pleiades
would be completed, and their day
would be over, and the power would
return to Toupan.
* * * *
VfET Koshchef, lifting never a
linger, said only: "Eh, sirs, have
patience! For I mad^ all things as
they are, and I know now it is my
safeguard that I have made them in
two ways."
But Miratnon, in his ivory tower
upon Vraldex, knew only that his
wish had been granted, for Glsele
had gone just as a bubble breaks.
"And a good riddance, too," says
MIramon. He turneu to ."winzian, tnai
smiling friend. "Why. did you ever
gee the like of such outrageousness!"
"Oh, very o.ften," replied this Ninzlan.
who, too, was married. Then
Ninzian asked: "But what will you
do next?"
be left defenseless against the doom
back the secret and the solace of my
But to Ninzian this seemed less obvious.
"You may do that by releasing
the third bee. Yea, Mlramon, you
can get back your art, but you will
be left defenseless against the doom
which is appointed. No, frlen^l, by
my advice you will employ the cantrap
as you at first Intended, and will
secure for yourself eternal life by
wishing that Flamberge may vanish
from this world of men." And
Nlnzian waved toward the sword with
which the Norns had foreordained
that Miramon Lluagor must be killed
by his own son.
The fallen wizard answered: "Of
what worth is life if it breed no
more dreams?" And Miramon said
also- "I wonder, Ninzian, Just where
Is the middle of next week?"
Sleek Ninzian spoke, secure in his
Infernal erudition. "It will fall upon
a. Wednesday, but nobody knows
whence. Oiybrius states that it is
now In Aratu, where all that enter
are clothed like a bird with wings,
and have only dust and clay to eat
in the unchanging twilight "
"She would not like that. She had
always a delicate digestion."
"Whereas Asinius Pollio suggests,
not unplausibly, that it waits beyond
Slid and GJold, in the1 blue house of
Nostrand. where Sereda herds the unborn
Wednesdays, under a roof of
plaited serpents "
"Dear me, now that would never
suit a woman who had an almost
Jean up in his arms, and. to the consternation
of the officiating clergy,
the verger and Anne's conventional
friends, cried out exultingly:
"Ah. mon petit. It wu a lucky day
for both of us when I picked you up
on the road between Salon and Aries.
Put your hands together as you do
when you're saying your prayers,
mon brave, and say, 'God bless father
and mother.""
Tpan ohedientlv adoDted the attl
tude of the Infant Samuel In the pictures.
"God bless father and mother," said
he, and the childish treble rang out
queerly In the large, almost empty
There was a span of silence and
then all the women-folk fell on little
Jean And that was the end of that
tfopyright. All rlflits reserved.
Kea Kills. |
the sheep as It nears the mountains
and the runs are measured in miles.
The kea Is a voracious bird, but the
modern specimen has cultivated a
taste for mutton fat. Setting out
frotn his mountain home on a raiding
expedition, he alights on a sheep's
back, clutching the wool with his
claws, and he digs his Iron beak
through the animal's back, rips it
open and eats the fat from around
the kidneys, leaving the sheep to die
a slow and torturing death. Sometimes
a farmer will number the sheep
killed by the kea in hundreds, and
the devastation wrought by them
throughout the whole district is quite
appalling. Like other merciless
criminals, the kea is sometimes
caught in his own trap. The claws
which clutch the wool become bo entangled
that the bird la held priioner
ind eventually diet beside his victim.
When and how the kea discovered
the exact location of a sheep's kidney
end the shortest route to it scientists
may be able to explain, but It betrays
a knowledge of anatomy which
lias been developed since the introduction
of sheep into New Zealand
tnd is now faithfully passed on from
generation to generation.
The kea has a price upon his head
tnd fanners are always on the lookjut
and ready to take a shot at him.
5o long as he is granted sanctuary at
Mount Cook it will be Impossible to
completely check the marauder, and
the southern pastoralists are now
taking that this privilege be withIfawn
and the bird entirely exterminated.
Sentiment, however. Is
igainst the total extinction of a native
This parrot has other crimes on his
conscience. Be is a thief. When
itaying at the Hermitage, the government
hotel at Mount Cook, or the
cuts on the glaciers, one Is warned
cf his depredations. Destruction is
its greatest Joy and anything he
iteals is instantly rent and tqsn with
>cak and claw to the accompaniment
jt rascous glee.
i / . h ' ' ." A, ^ -J
A ' .
. ... ....
s Branch Cabell
f v
morbid aversion to reptiles'."
"But Sosicles declarer it is *n
Xibalba, where Zlpacna and Cabrakan
play at handball and the
earthquakes are at nurse
"She would be none the happier,
there. She does not care for babies,
she would not for one moment put up
with a fractious young: earthquake,
and would make thinga most unpleasant
for everybody. Ninslan"?and
Miramon coughed?"Ninsian, I begin
to fear I have been a little hasty."
"It is the frailty of all you artists,"
the fiend replied. "In any event
you have one wish remaining, and no
more. You can at will desire to |
have back again the control of your
lost magic, or you can have back
your wife to control you." .
"Yes." says Miramon, forlornly.
"And. indeed," the demon went on,
with that glip optimism reserved for w
the dilemmas of one's friends, "in- *
deed It Is in many ways a splendid
thing for you to have the choice
clear cut. Nobody can succeed alike
at being an artist and a husband. I
hold no brief for either career, because
I think that art is an unreasonable
mistress, and I think also that a
wife is amenable to the same description.
But I am certain no man
can serve both."
* * *
l^jIRAMON* sighed. "That is true.
There is no marriage for the
maker of dreams, because he is perpetually
creating finer women than
earth provides. The touch of flesh
cannot content him who has arranged
the shining hair of angels and
modeled the breasts of the Sphinx.
The woman that shares his bed is
there, of course, much as the blanket
or the pillow is there, and each is an
aid to comfort. But what has the f
maker of dreams, what has that
troubled being who lives inside the
creature which a mirror reveals to
him, to do with women? At best,
these animals afford him models to
be idealised beyond the insignificant
truth, somewhat as I have mads a
soul-contenting portent with only a
lixard to start on. And. at worst,
these animals can live through no
half-hour without meddling where
they do not understand."
Now Miramon kept silence. He was
fingering the magic colors with which
he blazoned the first sketches of his
dreams. Here was his white. which
was the foam of ocean made solid,
and the black he had wrung from the
burned bones of nine emperors. Here
was the yellow slime of Scyros, and
crimson clnnabaris. composed of the
mingled blood of behemoths and
dragons, and here was the poisonous
blue sand of Puteoli. And Miramon.
who was no longer a potent wizard,
considered that loveliness and horror
which a moment ago he had known
how to evoke with these pigments?
he who had now no power to lend
life to his designs and kept just
skill enough, it might be, to place the
stripings on a barber's pole.
And Miramon Lluagor said: "It
would be a sad happening if I were
never again to away the sleeping of
men and grant them yet more dreams
of distinction and clarity, of beauty
and symmetry, of tenderness and
truth and urbanity. For, whether
they like it or not. I know that it Is
good for them, and It affords to their
starved living that which they lackr
and ought to have."
And Miramon said also: "Yet it
would be another sad happening were
my poor wife permitted eternally to
scold the shivering earthquakes in
the middle of next week. What does
It matter that I do not especially like
her? There is a great deal about my,.<#
?k>. T a ...
ecu miiL i au not 11kc. sucn as my
body's flabbiness and the small nose
which makes ludicrous the (ace I
wear. But do I hanker to be transformed
into a sturdy man-at-arms?
Do I view the snout of an elephant
with covetousness? Why? But. Xinsian.
I am astonished at your foolish
talking-. What need have I of perfection?
What would I have in common
with anybody who was patient
with me and thought highly of my
doings? No, Nlnsian. It Is in vain
that you pester me with your continuous
talking, for I am as used to
her shortcomings as I am to my own
shortcomings. I regard her tantrums
with the resignation I extend to Inclement
weather. It is unpleasant
All tempests are unpleasant. Ah, yes.
but if life should become an endless,
clear May afternoon, we could not endure
it?we who have once been
lashed by storms would cross Ian.,
and sea to look for snow and pelting
hall. Just so. to have Oisele about
keeps me perpetually fretted, but now
that she Is roue I am miserable. No,
Nlnzlan, you may spare your talking.
You need say no more, for I simply*
could not put up with being left to
live In comfort."
Sir Xlniian had heard him through,
with that patience which is requisite
of friends. And Ninslan, shrugging,
said. "Then do you choose, Miramon
for your wife and no more dreams,
or for your art and loneliness V
"Such wishing would be overwasteful."
Miramon replied, as he dusted
away the third bee. "Since I can
bear to give up neither my wife nor
my art, no matter how destroyinglv
they work against each other, 1 wish
for everything to be put back lust
where it was an hour ago."
* * * *
cpHE last bee flew in a wide circle and
returned to the cross. Life reawoke
in all which had perished in
that hour and Qauracy's baleful sun
was gone, and the dislodged worlds*
and satellites were revolving trimly
in their former places. And the High
Ood rejoiced; for there were only^
seven, Pleiades, and Toupan, afloat in
the void, again seemed harmless
enough, becauie the eyes were closeil,
wherein ie tlreleee and unappeasable I
malignity and a foreknowledge which I
Is perturbing to the goda. fl
Koshchel said only: "What need fl
was there to worry? Did I not make I
my creatures male and female? And fl
did I not make the tie which Is be- fl
tween them that cord which I wove H
equally of love and of disliking! Eh. B
sirs, but that Is a strong cord, and fl
though all things that are depend fl
upon it, my weaving holds." B
But Mlramon In his ivory tower fl
knew nothing Of how he had played fl
havoc with thO universe; he only B
knew that upon the black stone cross B
three bees were crawling fretfully B
and that his wife GUsele had come fl
back to him enraged. fl
"A pretty trick that was to plavfl
on me!" she Says. "Oh. but I pity B
the woman that is married to >iB
artist!" ^B
"But why do you perpetually med^B
die without understanding?*' he re-^|
plied, as fretful as the accursed b'ees.^J
as angry as the Intolerable woman.
And they went on very much as bt-^H
fore. B
(cesntght, tan.- au ngass snm?) Hfl

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