The daily worker. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1924-1958, 1926-01-09


and the sides of the road sweep past me with
their phosphorescent trees and white telegraph
wires-I think~of the ball at the palace of
Chest
Luxury gold, gold. 1t was golden fete, and
all the women were dressed in golden cos
tunes. In that gigantic hall the light shattered
itself against this splendOr, braser of gems
and warmly painted faces, diadems, aigrettes
and wings of gold, and bodies like ingots of
gold in groups and rows and masses, all whir-
fng.z A concentric swarm of golden bees MAX
ling merry and buzzing in a transparency of
ihaloyan glittering arabesques around great
conflagration of gold t. % 12ss
In the night the black automobile splashed
with white reflections, shoots toward the wind,
ing slopes, and misses the edge by hair.ovA
curve in the road hanging over the gulf rushes
upon me, with an oak tree whose bark is like
elephant hide, lit up by the headlights. / take
the curve at high speed, ten inches from death,
eyes and hand steady On this curved track,
suddenly and dzzily Illuminated two of my
wheels must be turning on air. Then the vo-
lent spinning rights itself and the car is thrown
squarely upon the tarred and rubbery, miles of
the cliff road
Every one of those hundreds of great ladies
-countesses, miladies, and milliOnairesses,
with golden throatSS who people the immense
ballroom of the Baron de Chests villa and the
drawing rooms opening like chapels on the
nave of a church, was exquisite to behold, smi-
ing, half-invting, each one carnally designed
in the mode (Which is the only thing that car
ries the idea of perfection, down here on the
Rivfera)
s But the exquisite image of Carla rises before
me as though reflected in the windshield while
the headlights throw upon the shadowy square
a sheet of white. In this sharp lid of light that
closes in my, VISION the sweet face of Carla is
4 formed, delicate and timid She was not at the
ball tonight. l think of her.
He said to me, the Baron de Chest that king
of gold, pointing at me with sovereign finger:
'"The afraid on China tremendous affair
Your
This nabob, this Buddha of the Golden Fete,
has the air of a sportsman, clean-shaven, with
his rather wasted and Anglo-Saxon face. You
can't often catch sight of him; his contempor-
aries only glimpse him in drawing rooms and
fashionable restaurants, or at smart country
clubs or coming out of important conferences
Carried away with joy | think over what he
said to me, just as the roaring of high speed
subsidies into low at the bottom of the paved
slope. The raid on China-that meant pub
licity, glory, money, and Carla!
l am happy: My claxon screams out and
take the side of the road to let another car pass
scrape the night with growing speed. All the
lines OF the landscape converge in my eyes, and
solid planes seem to meet at my wrists. The
accelerator makes the wind stronger Right
and left the white walls of houses fly by like
paper. The town. Before begin the descent
/ see from the dizzy summit, in the dark sky
where the moon is lost like poor scrub-wom-
an, the houses, beginning with their roofs
A F'rER the formalities of the garage, on foot
and uncaged, l reach my doorstep. My
hand puts the key in the keyhole. see my
hand, and my card nailed on the door-Hubert
Allen Aviator. II
light up, and look at myself in the mirror:
have full face, and broad shoulders. laugh;
] am glad to be alive. That fairy ball still
dances to its fiery music But l shall go trium-
phanty to China. / don't envy that luxurious
millionaire; my twenty-five years of youth de-
molish his forty years of age. / am young and
perfectly balanced All my training of fitness
and energy, to keep my mind and muscle