Newark post., 1911-08-09


launching into themes of this
sort; she invariably fell short of
her intentions when she did SO.
what! Have got to be for
ever asking questions, and never
making statements? cried she.
1T seems to be 'won1an's
sphere" said Robert with touch
OF irony. Confess, Marian, that
you don't care about being logical.
I'm afraid you have made a mess
OF this. 1t would have been bet
ter to PROFOUND the enquiry-Is
the genius OF man immortal?' and
then, prove that is SO, if you can"
When | believe with all my
soul that it is immortal, and know
how to say that | dor'
"Ah, but, my dear, the world
doesn't care what you believe per-
sonally-that is, not unless you
bring proofs that will incline it to
agree with you
And do convictions then, count
for nothing?"
absolutely nothing, without
proofs 1t was the scientists un-
compromising answer.
Science and Imagination they
have always been antagonists" he
continued. Each should keep to
its own ground. Now, Marian,
what | don't like about this is your
saying that the genius of a cer-
tain man was immortal. That
would be settling a question which
has always been recognized as one
of difficulty. And how do you set
tie it? Why, by imagining a state
OF things for which you present
no support.
80, | dare say it is trash" sigh
ed Marian, wearily, "Will you be
good enough to read it, Robert?'
with all my heart!"
He drew her to him, and seating
her on his knee, read:
THE MAN WHOSE GENIUS
WAS IMMORTAL.
The Worlds Story.
Q'm glad you provided for that,
Marian.")
He was an unfortunate fellow.
We all knew him and we all re-
member what charming Spring
day it was when he was slowed
away in one of the charity lots OF
suburban cemetery.
We used frequently to see him
on the street, drawing the ghost O.:
coat about him, and walking
swiftly, with his odd, spiritual face
buried i'll his chest. Perhaps a lit
tie encouragement would have
been of use to him, but we are a
busy crowd, and attentions like
charity, should begin at home. Be-
sides, it is mooted question whe-
ther such people should be abetted
in their follies.
He thought he had gift, poor
devil and wrote for the press,
column on column, with a dollar
for pay, and five mouths to feed.
Marvellous, how he got along
He belonged, in short, to a class
of people that is like gun-powder
prone to go off awkwardly if
touched at the wrong time. Rob
inson-known as our Samaritan
loves to tell of an occasion when
he had the misfortune to apply the
fuse for such an explosion.
He was slipping his Apollonaris,
one day, in cafe, when he caught
sight of Bernard seated at an OPP
posite table. He looked pinched
and benumbed, and fingered unac-
'countably over cup of tea. Rob
inson watched him until his own
plate of terrapin began to lose rel
ish.
Damn the fellow! Why do )
he come here for lunch:?" IT
thought, at the same time order
ing snug meal in a basket, with
which he followed the poet out.
Bernard was rapid walker and
gave Our friend a race to over
take him. Perhaps it was not
surprising that the latter was in
no sweet humor when he caught
the fellows sleeve, and said, OPEN
ing the basket, Look here, don't t
go to saying we saw you starve
before our eyes. | dare say you've
had nothing but that cup OF tea
since morning. Poor pay-bis
families-bad state of things
He was undoing the napkin,
when Bernard waved his hand.
"I'll not trouble you to undo
that" he said and shot off down