Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1929-12-08

y II thought YOU loved 1t more than you loved
me. 1t was my rival, 1 thought" The girl
was conscious of remorSe, and yet 1t was re-
morse cOnamingled with mounting joy"
And so yeu thought a jingle scrubbed upon
bit of paper; could be your rival with me!'
Then Cynthia no longer doubted. but gave
joyous little Sobbing laugh, for the love of
her. disreputAble dear poet was sustaining the
stringent testing she had devised. She touched
his freckled hand caressingly, and her face
was as no man had ever seen 1t, and her voice,
TOO, caressed him. r..@ =
"Ah, you have made me the. happieSt of
women, Kit! Kit Arn almost disappointed
IN you. though, that you do not grieve more for
the loss of that beautiful poem"
His smiling did not waver; yet the lean,
red-haired man stayed motionless. DO I APP
pear perturbed," he said. why, but see how
lightly take the destruction of my life-work
In this, my masterpiece! For can assure you
it was a masterpiece, the fruit of two years
toll and of much loving repolishment--"
An. but you love me better than such mat
ters do you not?" she asked him, tenderly
kit Marlowe. adore you! Sweetheart, do
you not understand that a woman wants to be
loved utterly and entirely? She wants no
rivals, not even paper rivals And so often
when you talked of poetry have felt lonely
and chilled and far away from you and have
been half envious. dear, of your Heroes and
your HelenS, and your other good for nothing
at all. And will make amends, quite prodigal
amends, for my naughty jealousy; and my poet
shall write me some more lovely poems, so he
shall"
He said, "You fool"
And she drew away frcm hin, for he was
no longer smiling
'Ycu burned my Hero and Leander'! YouI
you big-eyed fool You Isping idiot Won
wr1ggling, cuddlng worms Had not even Won
the wit to perceive it was immortal beauty
which would have lived long after YOU and I?
And you, half-witted animal shining chat
terlng parrot, lay claws to i'll" Marlowe had
risen in a sort of seizure, in condition which
was really quite unreasonable when YOU con-
sloered That only poem was at stake even
rather long poem
And Cynthia began to smile with tremulous
nurt-Iooklng young lips. 80 nv poets love
is very much the same as Pevensey's love, And
j was right, after ALL"
what do you care for my ideals? What do
you care for the ideals of that tall earl whom
you have held from his proper business for a
IorVngnt! Or for the ideals of any man aliyep
why, not one thread of that dark hair. not
one snap OF those white little fingers ex
cept when ideals irritate you by distractinO q
mans attention from Cynthia Allonby. Other
wise, ne IS welcome enough to play with his
ncomprehensible toys"
He jerked a thumb toward the shelves he
hind him.
ono, you pretty ladiesl what all Won value
~ such matters as those cups: they please
the eye, they are worth sound money and
people envy You the possession Of them. So
S S eIlef Is your shiny mud cups, and you
ourn my Hero and Leander': and I declajrn ALI
TINS dull nonsense, over the ashes of INV
ruined creams thinking at bottom of how
pretty YOU are, and Of how much I would like
20 KISS you. That Is. the real tragedy the Inn
mortal tragedy. that l. should. still .hanker
aIter you. Cynthia" re..,.-- =.
: His voice dwelt tenderly upon her,.nanoe. -.
h6 IeVer"haunted eyes were tender too. for
just a moment q Then he sErimaeed - - ~. :
% mo, T. am wrohg-Athe tragedy strikes .,eenery
The root Of=it Is that there is In you and IN
All your- Offering kind NO malice nd wft "a
40 harm nor to- hurt anything, but inst =
bland and invincible and upon the whole =
wen meaning stupidity, informing bright
ana solt end delteateiy scented animal SO
you Work raAin among those naen who serve
ideals. not fore-planning rain, not desiring 10
ruin anything; not even having sufficient Wit
20, perceive the ruin when it is,accomplished:
You are, when; al Is done, not even detesta6le-
not even a worthy peg whereon' to hang de.
nuneAatoryr sonnets.-s you shallow pated pretty
creatures whom peets--oh, and in youth ALI
men are poets!-A-whona poets, now, and Sltvays
are doomed 10 banker after the GetSines,t az
their poeSy so In logic must retfact all.
my harsh words: and / musts without snS
mint OF reproach. sndeavOr to bid you a some;
what more civil farewell" -, 80. -. ~
.....'- -,.s' .H,"y- -.
=. '~-'> -. =: ~. IS. =. Z. d.
CHE had regarded him, throughout this pre-
postefous and unCslled-for haranRue with
SAD composurs, with q fOrgiving pity. Now
she asked him, very quietly, where: are you
going. kip" r. =. =. - :, - -
:. To the Golden Hind, gentle, patient and ,
nn1ustIy prosecuted virgin martyrl" he an
sWefed, with an exaggerated bow-"since that
Is the part In which you now elect to posture