Los Angeles herald., 1908-10-25

secret of creation just the lost digamma! Some
how as they stood in that quiet nclosure, framing
its green picture under the arch at either end Ho
listers lost hold on his own ideals began to come
back to him. And then he wondered what
thoughts were passing through the mind of the
girl beside him. for her face growing more
troubled.
It's not fair It's not fair it's not fair" she sud
denly exclaimed finging out her hands, that some
folks should live in much beauty! All those
books in there-the boys go in and read them and
smell the shrubs and look out this perfect court
and dream themselves into any mood But I, who
am trying create moods too, have to do't in sur
roundings that are awful. 1 want to succeed, l
want to succeed. l want to be artist, too!
wish dead!"
Come" said HoIlister, I'VE will go up the canal,
far up into the country. Things will look differ
ent there" HE was beginning dimly to divine her
story. The girl, for whom canoeing was evidently
a new sport. climbed gingery down upon the cush-
ions. Holster threw of his coat rolled up his
sleeves over SO white that he felt ashamed.
dipped his paddle in asterp, and the boat moved up
the canal in the still summer Neither of
them spoke. With the feelgof a paddle in his
wrists the on his back the outdoors all around
him, the too full of the renewed Joy of
physical existence. With every dig.of his blade in
to the water, with every answering life and squirt
OF the boat he felt IL blood were pumping
through him. The girl lay back on the cushions.
half in exhaustion, half in, delicious languor, an
abandonment to repose. and watched the green
banks slip through half-closed lids
Low Bridget" cried HoIlister presently. AS
they ducked and shot under the cool shadow where
the dusty sunbeams filtered through the cracks
above, their eyes met He smiled at her reassur-
ingly. and, leaning forward, touched her hand.
Were getting farther and farther away from it,"
he said.
The canal ran placidly on for mile or two, wild
ening above Mr.. Carnegies foolish lake. The day
was windless. the water still mirror. Birds
sang in the trees the bank through the trees
on the distant hill the towers of Princeton began
to emerge. Once twice they lay up against the
embankment while slow canal boat towed
past Each time when the wash of the boat had
gone down, they moved on again. but ever more
slowly, for the lazy peace of the canal work.
ing upon them. ~.
Canals have always had strange fascination
for me-" said Hollister once. When was very
little chap the train from town along be-
side one and used to wonder where all the barges
from and where they went, just George
Moore says he used to do There is a mystery
about q canal-about this canal for instanceI
Where does 1t begin, where does 1t end? Who dug
1T in the long ago? 1t ages old, part of
nature. of the landscape. And like all canals,
though it leads from somewhere to somewhere
else, yet the water does. not now 1t is still and
quiet, like a secret"
1T is the most utterly peaceful thing have
known; It is rest cure.' said the girl and shut
her eyes.
BY and by they passed the end OF Mr. Carnegie's
foolish lake and drew little town. The noon
hush the world Their boat glided along
the depths of the sky. still the water was. All
horIx fopf
dog and thekhappy cry of chud. Before them
white rock barred their way. To the left the lock-
keepers cottage, bright with whitewash and
gay with red geranium in pot beside the door,
looken down at its reflection in the black water.
Just at that moment there was not soul in sight,
and from the steeple thin and faint, drifted down
the sound of bell, tolling twelve.