The Greenville journal. [volume] (Greenville, Ohio) 1850-1918, 1912-11-21

She couldn't have suggested any
thing more to his liking. And so,
after little hurrying about, the two
young people went outside and began
to promenade slowly up and down the
mole. Their conversation was desul-
tory. George had dropped back into
his shell and the girl was not equal
to the task of drawing him out.
Once he stumbled over a sleeping
beggar, and would have fallen had she
not caught him by the arm.
Thanks. I'm clumsy"
ITS rather difficult to see them in
the moonlight; their rags match the
pavements."
The Egyptian night, that sapphirine
darkness which the flexible imagina-
ton peoples with lovely and terrible
shades, or floods with mystery and ro-
nance and wonder, lay softly upon
this strip of verdure aslant the des-
ert's face, the Valley of the Nile. The
moon, round, brilliant, strangely near,
suffused the SCARED old visage Of the
world with phantom silver; the stones
of the parapet glowed DULY, the pave
ment glistened Whitley, all things 1t
touched with gentleness, lavishing
beauty upon beauty, mellowing ugli-
ness or effacing It. The deep blue
Nile, beribboned with the glancing
lights from the silent feluccas, curling
musically along the sides of the frost
like dahabeahs and steamers, rolled
on to the sea; and the blue-white
arc-lamps, spanning the Great Nile
bridge, took the semblance Of pearl
necklace. From time to time a cara
van trooped across the bridge into
Cairo.
do you care for poetry, Mr.. Jones?"
81? / used to write It."
And you aren't afraid to admit it,"
We'll, shouldn't confess the deed
to every one," he answered frankly.
I'VE all write poetry at one time or
another; but it's generally not consti-
tutional, and We recover"
Il do not see why any one should be
ashamed Of writing poetry"
"Ah, but there is poetry and poetry.
My kind and Byron's is born of kin
dred souls; but he was an active
genius, whereas, wasn't even a pas
sive one. In all great poets find my
own rejected thoughts, as Emerson
says; and that's enough for my slen-
der needs. Poets are rather uncom-
Portable chaps to have round. They
are capricious, irritable, temperament
al, selfish, and usually demand all the
attention"
The little vocal stream died up
again, and once more they listened to
the magic sounds Of the night. She
stopped abruptly to look over the para
pet, and his shoulder met hers; after
that the world to him was never 60
ing to be the same again.
Moonlight and poetry; not the
safest channels to sail uncharted. The
girl was lonely, and George was lone
ly, too. His longing had now assumed
a definite form; hers moved from this
to that, still Indefinitely. The quick
ness with which this definition had
come to George rather startled him.
His first sight of Fortune Chedsoye
had been but yesterday; yet, here he
was, not desperately but consciously
in love with her. The situation bore
against all precepts; 1t ripped up his
preconceiyed ideas of romance as
gale at sea shreds a canvas. He felt
bit panicky. He had always planned
a courtship of year or so, meetings,
separations, and remeetings, pleasur-
able expectations, little junkets to the
aters and country places; in brief, to
witness the rose grow and unfold.
Somewhere he had read or heard that
courtship was the plummet which
sounded the depths of compatibility.
He knew nothing of Fortune Ched-
soye, save that she was beautiful to
his eyes, and that she was as different
from the ordinary run Of girls as yon-
der moon was from the stars.
Again she stopped, leaning over the
parapet and staring down at the wa
ter swirling past the stone embank-
ment. He did likewise, resting upon
his folded arms. Suddenly his tongue
became alive; and quietly, without
hesitancy or embarrassment, he began
to tell her OF his school life, his life
at home. And the manner in which
he spoke Of his mother warmed her;
and she was strangely and wonder
ingly attracted.
"Of course, the mother meant the
best in the world when she gave me
Percival Algernon; and because she
meant the best, have rarely tried to
hide them. What was good enough for