The Nevada County picayune. (Prescott, Ark.) 190?-current, 1909-06-24
HLUGZRAzZ0NeJ ee5r7
z. prZZX
,coeys/oHZ 1907 SQ54S.Zzz&&AL CO.

ont good deal more, especially If his
snv overheard Tracy's phone. wen,
shall warn Millicent-with fog-horn!
The way he warned Millicent has
been related. But from Mllilcent he
detected to another SUBJECTIVE I'M
mise of confession being strong upon
him. He freed his mind about the
stains on Cary MERGERS cuHs; anu
when at last he sought Mtll1cent he
was in his soul praising his aunt TOT d
wise old woman. After justice was
disarmed by his miscomprehension OF
Nillicents words, he took out MS
cigarette case and began pacing the
garden walks, smoking and humming
a little Spanish love song, far olaer
than the statehood of California.
The words belonged TO the air
which he had whistled weary week
ago. Young Tracy came along, and
caught UP the air, although he was
innocent of Spanish he had his man,
dolin on his arm; he proffered 1t to the
colonel.
Miss Janet has been singing coon
songs to his nibs who is really getting
almost human" he observed afaDlH5
well, a little patience and interest
will reveal new possibilities OF the
Fireless Stove, In man or metal.
Shall we get under his nibs' window
and give him the Bedouin Love Song
and / Picked Me Lemon in the Car
den of Love and the Sextette from
Lucia and ether choice selections? He
seemed to be sitting up and taking no
tice, lets lift him above the sordid
thoughts of Wall street and his plans
for busting other financiers.
The soldier gave this persifage no
answer; his own thoughts were far
from gay. He stood drinking in the
beauty of the April night. The air
was wonderfully hushed and clear.
and the play of the moonlight on the
great heliotrope bushes and the rose.
trees. which dangled their clusters 81
yellow and white over the stone para
pets of the balconies, tinted the leaf.
age and hickered delicately over the
tracery of shadow on the gray walls.
Not a cloud flecked the vast aeria.
landscape-only stars beyond stars.
through unfathomable depths Of dim
violet, and beneath the stars a pale
moon swimming low in the heavens.
one could see it between the spandreIs
of the arches spanning the colonnade
Aunt Rebecca in black lace and
jewels was fitting with the world in
general and Millicent Winter in par.
ticuar; she displayed her most cyHi
cal mood. She had demolished
democracy; had planted herself firmly
on the basic doctrine that the virtues
cultivated by slavery far outnumber
its inseparable vices; and that mosf
people If not all need master; had
been picturesquely and inaccurateiy
eloquent on the subject of dynamite
which she pronounced the logical
fourth dimension of liberty, fraternifv
and equality; had put the yellow rich
where they belonged; and the red
anarchists mainly under the sod and
she had abolished the Fourth of July
% the last sputter OF fre-cracket.
thence by easy transitions she had
eXtolhd American art (Which Ameri-
an patrons We're TOO ignorant to ap-
preciatcl deplored American music
The trouble isn't that it is canned
says she, but that il was spoiled be
fore they canned IT'D and was now
driving chariot Of fire through
American literature; as for the acad-
emics, they never said what they
thought, but only what they thought
they ought to think; and they always
mistook anemia for refinement, as an
other school mistook yelling and per.
spring for yigor.
Just as Winter modestlv entered
the arena, no less a parsonage than
Henry James was under the wheels
Janet Smith had modestly confessed
to believing him a consummate artist,
and Millicent in an orotund voice de
clared that he went deep, deep down
into the mysteries of life.
Il don't deny it; he ought to get
down deep" returned Aunt Rebecca
in her gentlest, softest utterance;
hes always boring"
NJ $. Melyille's suppressed agitation
made her stays creak
do you really think that James is
not great artist?" she breathed.
Il think he is not worth while"
Wow" cried Tracy. "Oh, say"
Aunt Rebecca; you cannot mean
=" this was Mrs Melville, choking
with horror.
His style" repeated the unmoved
iconoclast, his style has the remains
of great beauty; all his separate
phrases, if you wish, are gems; and
he is a literary lapidary; but his SEN
fences are so subtle. so complex. so
intricately compounded, and so dis