28.

Yomana

Ricaro, can I not help you? You are unhappy.
Is it the Princess - your love for her?

Ricaro.

Yes, my love for her - - - my mad love
for her ! Ever since I was a child !

Yomana

When you used to long to cut off her beautiful hair !

Ricaro.

She has cast her spell upon me ! She has
wound her web about me ! There is an old
song that puts my love in words :-

" There is a woman whom I hate and love.
This is my sorrow. She has bound my
neck
Within the noose of her long hair and
bound
My soul within the halter of her dreams,
And fastened down my heart into one place"

29.

I am unhappy when I am near her, and yet,
when I am near her I am not happy. But
now, I have no more hope. I must go away.

Yomana

On another quest ?

Ricaro

No - - She asks what no man can give !

( he drops his head in his hands in
despair, then rises and paces up and down.)

Yomana

Tell me - tell me your sorrow. We love
each other. We have been as brother and
sister. Although I am only your foster-sister,
we have been dearest friends. We have shared
our joys, we have shared our sorrows. Why
withhold this one?

Ricaro.

I cannot tell you.

30.

Yomana

Yes, yes, I can help you -- I must know.

Ricaro.

Know then. She has asked for the perfect heart of a woman.

Yomana
(after a silence)

And this heart that you would search for - is it such a shadow that you do not see it ? Can you not feel it in your hands ?

Ricaro.

If I had such a treasure I could not give it to her.

Yomana

You have this heart, and you did not know it. I love you too, but not as she loves you. I would not see you suffer. I love you for yourself - she loves you for herself. I do not fear to tell you. It is only when we ask a price for this gift that we need feel shame. I do not ask a return - I give a free gift.

31.

I am proud of my gift to you if it brings
you happiness.

Ricaro

I cannot accept this gift.

(He takes her hand tenderly in his,
draws her to him and kisses her on
the forehead.)

I do not understand myself at times. I
cannot see clearly gentle Yomana. I love
you too, but so differently! I am at peace
when my eyes rest on you, and there is peace in
my soul when I am near you. Dear sister, and
dearest friend, I will never see the Princess
any more. Give me the peace of your life.
Give me your love. It is so sweet to love and
be loved, and you are so fair.

As a child I laid my sorrows on your heart,
so now help me, help me forget this mad love,
forget the past, and quiet this wild beating
of my heart. Put to sleep the pain that lies
so restless in my heart, and let me awaken to
your tender love - the love born of our child-
hood days.

Yomana

It cannot be, dear Ricaro! I have never
hoped for your love, therefore, I have no hope
to lose. But my heart is troubled for this

32.

strange love of yours for the Princess in
the mysterious woods, rather than for my
own sad heart. If I am sad I understand
what it is to give you the joy of love.
Take my gift, but this gift must go with true
love, else it will bring unhappiness.
It is the fear of what may be in store for
you that makes my heart sore. Be sure of
yourself before you take this gift - and then -

Ricaro.

Dear Mama, I cannot !

Yomana
(eager)

Wait beneath my window. I will give you a
magic casket, and within it you shall find
the treasure you seek. Guard it carefully.
It is yours to do with what you will.

( Yomana enters the house, and appears
at the casement. She hands Ricaro a
casket. Ricaro takes it, and covers
her hand with kisses. Then she leans
out and he kisses her tenderly. )

Farewell, Ricaro dear, Farewell ! ! .........

34.

Ricaro
(from the gate)

Farewell !

Yomana

as the gate closes, falls back on the cushion
as if asleep. Her slave maiden enters the
room, and through the casement you can see
her lean over her mistress

Slave-Maiden

She sleeps.

( Then the slave-maiden lights one
candle which burns at her head, another
at her feet on the shelf at each end.)

Slave-Maiden.

She sleeps with heavy sleep, my beloved
mistress .........

CURTAIN.

35.

## ACT III.

### Scene between Ricaro and Zaska.

Zaska is in her waiting room. She is dressed for a wedding, her face is veiled. A slave enters.

### Slave Maiden.

The Prince, your father, and all the Court are waiting. Your father bids me ask you to delay no longer.

( The bells are heard without, summoning the people to the wedding. )

### Zaska.

Tell my father, the Prince, I will come soon. I was indisposed for a time.

( she waves her aside, and is restlessly watching the door on the other side )

Twice I have sent for Ricaro. Why does he not come? I must see him before I wed. I must see within the magic casket.

( Ricaro enters hurriedly )

36.

Ricaro.

Why did you send for me? What delays you?
The Prince and the Court are waiting for you.
Come, beautiful Zasla !

( He takes her hand )

Princess.

Ricaro, I cannot wed you before I see
within the magic casket. Open it - open it !

Ricaro
( carries the casket under his robe )

No, not now. Do not ask me now. Wait !
Come - they are wondering what has detained you.

Princess.

No, no. Now, open it - open it !

Ricaro
( tries to lift her veil, but she pushes
his hand away )

Let me see your beautiful face, and remove the
impression of a dreadful dream. I dreamed I
was blind - blind - and could not see your
beautiful face - - And then I moaned and cried
out to you to let me see, and my eyes were open -
and I saw - - I saw - - My God, I cannot tell

1

THE MYSTERY ON THE MOUNTAIN

by
JULIA ELLSWORTH FORD

One autumn evening I was sitting alone by my fire. As I looked out of the window, the clouds were dark and heavy with expectant rain; probably a thunder storm. All my life I have dreaded those electric storms; they fill me with a fear which I seem unable to conquer. The memory of what happened five years ago during one such storm helped to shape a tragic event in my life.

Tonight my beloved friend was returning to me from the Orient. We had corresponded during his absence, but pen and paper are poor substitutes for intimate talks. On account of my refusal to be his wife, he had gone to the Orient without me, though he departed my beloved lover and his letters had ever been full of tenderness and longing for me. However, I could not help saying to myself: "Will he still care for me when he sees me after these years? Shall I be different in his eyes. And what change will I find in him?" Tonight would decide our fate. The moments seemed endless as I waited for him to come.

I heard a motor drive up to the door and the bell ring. Another moment and he had entered the library. He was tall, and handsome as ever, tanned from southern oriental skies, but otherwise outwardly unchanged. He

2

came forward eagerly, took both my hands in his and raised one to his lips. Unconsciously we moved to the large sofa in front of the fire. He did not take his eyes from mine. I had not spoken. My inner excitement was too great. The thing that had prevented me from marrying him had to be told that night.

He poured forth story after story of his interesting adventures and his life in the Orient. Growing suddenly serious, he said, "I must have my answer tonight, dear, immediately."

"I cannot give you my answer now," I replied. "In fact, everything will depend on a strange story that I must unfold to you. I have never told it to anyone before -- I did not dare. I could not even muster courage to tell it years ago. At this moment, I hesitate, but I long to relieve my mind and share with you the secret of my haunting trouble, which you must know before you decide to marry me. You must promise never to tell it to anyone."

"I promise," he said, "and the sooner the story is begun and ended, the better, because I have waited too long already."

"There is another promise," I said, "that I would like to have you make -- not to interrupt, for it is a long story."

"Very well," he said, "but that will be a more difficult promise to keep than the first."

An open fire has magic charm and its heat and

3

glow are conducive to unburdening secrets in one's heart.

"It happened," I began, "when I was very young, impulsive and excitable. A young man was visiting us in the mountains. This man, as I found out later, was in love with me. Father's ranch in the West was in a wild mountainous country. As I was a good shot, father thought it best for me to carry a pistol. There were wild animals in the woods, and, as I was fearless, except for thunderstorms," I added, smiling, "I used to go off on my horse all day, following trails and mountain paths."

"While my friend was visiting me, I received a letter from a cousin, inviting me for a week-end party. My uncle owned a ranch on the other side of the mountain. It took all day to drive over this steep mountain, starting early in the morning. It was a beautiful drive, notwithstanding it was rough in places, and we preferred it rather than the longer ride around the mountain."

"We had a picnic lunch near the roadside. At the same time we gave our little horse a rest. Suddenly a thunderstorm came up. It grew very dark, but especially so in the dense woods. A terrific clap of thunder made our horse shy and, as he did so, he broke the shaft. Here was a predicament. What should we do?"

"My friend jumped out of the phaeton, held the shaft and guided the horse. Suddenly we saw a little house in the woods, but there was no smoke coming from the chimney, so we concluded there was no one there. A

4

little distance further on there was a farm house. We
could see the top of the house and outbuildings and the
smoke curling up from the chimneys. It was now raining
very hard.

My friend said, 'I think I will investigate this
little house. We will put the horse under the shed and
then I will leave you inside.' He went in with me. It
was quite dark. We could barely see the door, and had
to wait for flashes of lightning to get our bearings.
There was a low step. Then the door opened into a long
narrow room, and we waited for the lightning to reveal
what was within. In the middle of the room stood a
greasy table on which was a candle in an old saucer and
a knife. Nearby was a chair, an old hat and a shirt. At
the back of the room a curtain stretched across either a
closet or a doorway.

"My friend struck a match, but the wind blew it out.
Neither was he successful with the second attempt, because
a window pane was broken, admitting the wind and the rain.
We waited a second, and a sharp flash of lightning
enabled us to locate the candle, and he was successful in
lighting it. He threw the matches on the table. 'You
had better keep the box,' he said; 'the candle might
blow out.'

"'What a spooky place,' I replied, looking around
the dimly lighted room. 'I don't want to stay here.

5

Besides, thunder storms always terrify me. I think I
shall go with you.'

"That will be most unwise," he said. But, by
the tone he implied that he could not consent to my going
in that frightful storm. 'I, fortunately, have a rubber
coat,' he continued. 'Your coat is thin and you would be
soaked to the skin. We have a long way to go yet and, on
account of this delay, we shall be lucky if we reach our
destination before midnight.'

"My actions showed that I yielded.

"It looks as though a tramp had been here,' I
said. 'I hope he is not upstairs.'

"There is no upstairs," he replied. "This is the
only room in the house. This is too small a building to
have another room."

"After taking another look around the dismal place,
I ventured timidly, 'I might put the robe over my head,
and go with you.'

"He paid no heed to my remark, but did an unexpected thing. Perhaps the situation drew from him the gesture of an affection which I had long suspected. He tenderly made me feel his strength by putting his arm around me. I knew he held my friendship dearly. My emotions were strangely stirred. My heart beat at a terrific pace. Just then a clap of thunder and an almost blinding flash of lightning illumined the room, making the darkness more weird.

6

"I hate thunder storms," I exclaimed. "They create in me an unexplainable emotion." I was terrified. I felt his right arm pressing around my body, his lips against mine. He drew his long slender hand across my cheek and neck. He had the most beautiful hands I had ever seen.

"You will be perfectly safe here," he tried to reassure me.

"At this period of our friendship, that act would have met with rebuff. Now, the strength of his strong body comforted me. I hated to admit it, but I was frightened and I know I showed it. Again I was conscious of the passing of his slender fingers over my face. Then, without a single word, he turned and left me."

"I fell into a chair but forgot, for a moment, the terrors of the storm in the thought of the touch of his hand on my face. Then there came a frightful crash of thunder. Forks of lightning snaked the sky. The windows rattled. The blue light, flaring up and down as if chased by a hideous devil, awoke me from my thoughts. The wind blew out my light. The lightning passed and left me in darkness. I groped for the matches. I struck one. In its flare I saw at the end of the room a curtain which probably concealed a large closet. The curtain moved toward me and the fingers of a hand appeared, clutching the curtain -- so it seemed. Memories of Edgar Allen

7

Poe's stories came to my mind stirring my imagination.
A trembling shook my body. Was this some tramp who had hidden behind the curtain when my friend and I entered.
Would he, now that I was alone, attack me? I was wearing valuable jewels. Perhaps he would kill me if I resisted.
I took a more careful look around. A dirty shirt lay on the floor, an old hat in the corner and a knife on a chair near the curtain.

"Again the thunder roared, the lightning furrowed the sky, the house and windows shook and my candle went out. I was in darkness. I struck a match and relit the candle, but my eyes were not on it. They were riveted on the curtain which moved towards me again. This time the hand seemed to move in the dim light. Was it a hand? And now two eyes seemed to peer at me out of the darkness. Eyes only, - I could see no face. Jeering eyes, malicious eyes, saying -- what were they saying?

"My hands mechanically slipped into my pocket for my pistol, which I always carried when I went into the woods. A year before I had pointed it at a man who had tried to hold me up in a lonely part of the mountain. Then, I lashed my horse and he sprang forward out of danger; but now, what was I to do? What was this man doing here? Why had he hidden? If he had been an honest man, with no evil intention, he would not have hidden. I rose to my feet. The chair fell with a loud noise that made me jump. If he should attack me and my shot go wild, I

8

would be helpless. A great horror crept over me. My
whole body became cold and rigid with fear -- fear of
being surrounded with darkness at the approach of this
 creature.

"The candle began to flicker. There was something
uncanny and awesome in the situation. I could hear my
breathing and, I thought, his. Fingers seemed closing on
the curtain and it moved slowly and surely outward --
slowly but steadily toward me.

"Fear cried, 'If he acts like that, he will kill
you; better fire now.' Reason cried, 'Wait until the man
comes out; you may kill a human being.' These conflicting
emotions warred within me. Better fire now!

"The curtain moved forward. The eyes were devilish.
Then came a great crash of thunder and the lightning
flashed. It seemed as if he were springing toward me.
Uncontrolled fear and terror took possession of me. My
reasoning power left me. I raised my hand, and fired.

"I heard something fall. I fled, stumbling over
the chair which had overturned on the floor. I slammed
the door after me and, as there was a hook and ring on
the outside of the door, I quickly fastened it. With
that barrier I gained a little courage, but on the same
instant, my attention was attracted to a large sign over
the door. On it was printed: 'THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED.'

"I do not know that this relieved me much. The
thought persisted: 'Had I killed a man or had I shot at

9

something in the closet which fell and made that tremendous noise, or was the house haunted? Had other people had my experience and put this sign over the door? These thoughts rushed through my mind in seconds -- not minutes. I did not want to go to the shed where the horse was. Instead, I ran toward the farm house. The rain had stopped, though the thunder and lightning still continued. A little way down the road I saw my friend with the lantern. I ran to him, and then it was his turn to be surprised, for I threw my arms around his neck, crying, 'Oh, I'm so frightened. I could not stay in that house.' Beyond that, however, I did not reveal what had happened.

"You are trembling," he said. "What has frightened you?"

"There is a sign over the door," I replied. "I saw it when I came out. It says the house is haunted."

"Nonsense," said he. "How ridiculous. Do you want me to go back with you and investigate?"

"No, No," I said. "Never again."

"So we bent our energies to binding the shaft with the rope the farmer had given him and, in a short time, were driving away."

"We had gone a long distance without my saying anything. My companion was full of his jaunt to the farm house, and told me of the little child who had helped him get the rope and of the old farmer's kindly wife."

"Farmers are real people," he remarked. "They

10

live so close to nature. Yet the consciousness of beauty
seems to escape them.'

"How silent you are," he exclaimed presently.
'I seem to be doing all the talking.' And, taking the
reins in one hand, he held my hand in the other.

"I have had a terrible shock," I said. "I believe I did see a ghost. I saw his eyes gleaming at me."

"Nonsense," said he again. And all the time,
running through my mind was that strange terrifying scene.
The apparition and the swaying of the curtain back and
forth, the eyes staring at me,
the frightful thunder and lightning and then the
pistol shot. Had I really killed someone? Should I have
gone back? And then came the excuse, perhaps to comfort
me, 'But the house is haunted and it must have been a
ghost.'

"But what was it that fell? Ghosts do not fall.
Had I hit something in the closet or a human being? If I
had killed a man in my excitement and terror, I felt that
I could not stand the thought of it. It would kill me.
All this may have been nonsense to my friend. Surely
it was not to me."

"If I am silent," I said, still holding tightly
to his hand, 'forgive me. I have had a shock and it was
upset me terribly."

"Yes, I see you are excited, but you will soon
be all right."

11

"The rest of our ride was over hills and through dark woods, and then into the open country and through the town with its lighted windows. I was glad to see the outline of my cousin's cozy home, for everything in the past few hours had seemed so strange. It was half past eleven when we reached the house. My cousins had been anxious about us on account of the storm. Although it was late, they were still sitting up, waiting for us. The long ride was my excuse to retire to my room to think over the day's events, instead of remaining to have supper with them.

"The following morning I was like one paralyzed. I could not move. I begged the others to go off to their tennis, promising that I would join them later. They gave me a little time to recover myself. My cousin and my friend joked and laughed all that day about the haunted house, and again terror sprang up in my mind as they threatened to investigate it.

"Let us all drive over and see the haunted house. We may see the ghost. I have heard there was a haunted house on the mountain, but I have never seen it," my cousin exclaimed.

"Two days of gaiety and laughter and dancing and doing all the things that youth loves to do helped to blur, for the time, this fearful experience, but the time drew near when we had to return. Finally we started back

12

over the mountain and, on our way, my friend told me of
his love for me and urged me to marry him before he left
and go with him to the Orient. But, on account of my
troubled mind, I could not consent.

"Do you know where we are?" he asked, as we
neared the little farmhouse. "It was fortunate we were
so near someone when the shaft broke." Then he turned
and said, teasingly, "Do you want to investigate the
haunted house?

"No, no," I cried sharply.

"Then, as I had the reins, I whipped up my
horse so that we would pass as quickly as possible the
place I dreaded so to see, but just as we came by the
long row of trees that led up to the house, my friend
suddenly put his hands on the reins and drew the horse
to a standstill.

"Look," he cried. We riveted our eyes on the
spot where the haunted house had been. The house had
disappeared.

"The ghost probably carried the house away," he
said laughingly. "Or, perhaps we were dreaming that
night. Who knows?"

"But I knew better. Did he not see the charred
debris and realize that the house had burned down to the
ground?"

"Why I did not then tell him the whole story

13

and relieve my mind of the emotions that were tormenting
me, I do not know. I only know that for years I have
suffered whenever I have thought of that scene and of
the possibility that I might have killed a man; and tonight
dear friend, it is the first time I ever have had the
courage to put into words the story of that night's
experience on the mountain. "

As I finished my story, my beloved put his
arm about me.

"Oh, if you had only told me all this before, de
dear heart."

"But I feared I had killed a man and, you
remember, you left shortly. My mistake arose in not
being able to tell the truth -- in letting fear conquer
me -- in not having courage to face the situation, the
natural consequence of which was acute suffering. But I
am glad you know it now," I answered, looking up into his
handsome face.

"If you had told me during the drive or, if
not then, later, before I went away, I could have saved
you all this suffering. There was no closet in that
small room. Before I left you there, I took special
pains to look, and even walked around the house. Being
an architect, I unconsciously, perhaps, notice doors
and windows and observe things a non-professional person
would not observe. That curtain, dear, was simply nailed

14

on an old door leading out to the back. It was impossible
for a man to stand between that door and the curtain and
not be seen. He was the creation of your fear. You
probably knocked a panel out of the old and rotten door
and the wind rushed in, upset the candle, and the greasy
table easily caught fire and burned the house. Your
ghost had to find another haunting place.

"My lover rose to take his leave, saying, 'This
time it will not be good-bye, but au revoir, my dear. I
shall return in the morning and then we can arrange our
plans to go to China."

The storm that had been gathering during the
evening burst in a flare of lightning and a loud clap
of thunder. I threw my arms around my lover's neck.

In the meantime, his motor had arrived and the
maid was answering the bell. As she opened the door,
the wind blew the parlor curtain in and I looked up into
his face and smiled.

"Ghosts," he said, as his arm tightened around
me. "This house is haunted." And we both laughed.

AND SOME HAVE PETS THRUST UPON THEM.

I always declared, declared so emphatically that I never would have a lap dog, be seen with a lap dog, or take care of one, or, for that matter, any kind of an animal or bird, that my friends got the impression that this was a final decision on the subject that no circumstance could alter or change.

Later I discovered a weakness in my character, but, fortunately, not in my mind. To own any kind of an animal or bird seems a waste of time. They always need attention just when you are busy. They are especially annoying to an author and just as you are in the midst of writing a story or poem or a play, your daughter's dog curls himself in a sunny spot on the floor and proceeds to sleep, and you say, "Good doggy", but only for one moment for he soon begins to scratch. Of all things this scratching is the most annoying. When Noah em-barked in his Ark, with animals and insects two by

2

two, I wish he had left certain insects behind.

After the dog has scratched apparently every part of his body, interfering with his peace of mind as well as with your own work until it gets jerky in style, in despair you wash the dog - you wash him because if you have traveled in France you have sympathetic memories.

Instead of being grateful, he tries to slip away from you and vigorously shakes himself while you chase him - you wouldn't mind if it were in front of your flower garden, but it is damaging to the household furnishings.

Then you settle yourself to your writing-heaven help you if it is a poem. After a short space the dog returns and sits up. Did you ever hear of a writer continuing his work while a dog sat up? No, you take the dog out. If it is in the country, he is liable to run away; if it is in the city, you walk up and down and pretend it isn't your dog and you refuse to let lamp posts and trees come within your vision. Then, a dog without a leash is apt to get you in trouble, especially if he sees another dog. Irrespective of fast approaching

3

motors, he dashes in front of them. The chauffeur
ruins his brakes or dashes into a tree trying to save
the dog's life, and if you haven't heart disease, you
have something like it. Is the dog grateful? No.
You end by grabbing your dog's tail and your neighbor
his dog's tail and you wrench them apart.

Every now and then the maid interrupts, "The
dog is lost." Your first exclamation is, "Heaven
be praised!"

Then you have a vision of your daughter's
face when she returns. The dog that welcomed her
with joy, jumps and barking is lost.

With low mumblings you put on your hat and
coat. If you find him you spend unheeded and unpro-
ductive words conversing with the dog. They are
like men in this respect - they spend one moment of
in regret for wrong done, that's all, and this seldom
changes their characteristics. If you don't find the
dog, you spend your time telephoning to neighbors and
the police, and the next day the reward you pay might
have taken you to the opera or bought you a lot of new
books..

That evening you may inadvertently refer to the

4

episode as annoying, and your daughter immediately
offers to dispose of the dog with a very sad face.
She would have to find someone who would be good to him.
Of course, you say, if you are a devoted mother,
that's all right, never mind.

All dogs love to go in a motor, and in the
afternoon, if you unconsciously speak of this ride in
the dog's presence, later you will find the dog on the
rug waiting for the expected pleasure. (I say expected
because, although you have a moment when you think you
can't possibly take him, the expression in his tail and
eyes makes you realize your selfish character and you
take the dog). When you get into the motor, the dog
informs you that he can't possibly see out of the
window, that that is what he came for - to see the pano-
rama of dogs, children and lights and that he would
greatly appreciate it if he could sit on your lap. But
you say, I have my best dress on. He suggests putting
a robe over it and he looks at you out of the corner
of his eye - a human being can't give you such a pathetic,
appealing look as a dog.

And you who hate a lap dog end by having one
on your lap.

5

I often look into other motors and see other women, intelligent looking women, and wonder by what combination of circumstances they have dogs on their laps.

At least I console myself that I haven't degraded myself with dog talk.

"Does doggie darling want to see all the other little doggie friends?" I heard a woman in the motor next to mine say.

This present dog is a very intelligent Pekingese. He looks like Ibsen. He loves my daughter and he loves me only when there is a motor around. They say, "Love begets love". Perhaps he knows this.

There are many historical stories about the devotion of men and women to their dogs who were faithful companions to them.

Personally I prefer not to have animals and birds in the house, but I remember a dog that I once loved, a big Newfoundland, a faithful, polite dog, who went on tramps through the woods as a companion and came into the house only when invited. My brother was ill for a long time and he carried notes and things in a big bag up and down stairs all day.

6

This dog had a fine character and was most unselfish, and he had a noble pride when helping one.

I had a bird too, when I was young. But I had read the story of Leonardo da Vinci - how he would plead with people not to keep birds in cages. Sometimes, if they seemed wild and unhappy, he bought them and let them fly away into the blue sky until to sing on the tops of the trees.

My bird was a wounded robin, and when she was well I put her in an open cage in the tree and she came down every morning to visit me and I dug worms for her in the garden. But one day she found her mate and left me for a handsome lover.

Perhaps it is memories of these pets which make me patient with all the various ones that have come into my house.

One day, my mother-in-law brought home a small alligator from the South, but as she was called away to the West she left me in charge of the alligator a sick canary and a plant in a pot, as she described it. The plant consisted of three stems without any leaves. Her visit in the West proved a lengthy one. Time did not diminish the length and strength of the Alligator and he had a way of hiding under sofas and chairs which

caused us to look before we sat down, but a guest one day
seated herself on the sofa, trustful and unsuspicious of
the inbits of our domestic pets. Judging from her scream,
I surmised the trouble and that night the alligator died an
unnatural death.

The canary died the day after she left and the
plant - well, when she returned she found a blooming flower.
"How strange", she remarked; "I thought that was a fuchsia".

There are times when it is just as well to be silent
after a remark.

It never rains but it pours. My oldest son and his
family, having decided to move to town, the question
came up as to what they would do with their two Pekingese.

My son appeared with one under each arm. "Would
you mind keeping them a few days, Mother, until my wife
and I can find a place for them?"

These helpless outcasts are still with me. They
are pampered darlings and immediately contested with the
family possession of the soft cushions on chairs, and
only by producing old cushions from the attic did I save
my plush upholstery.

The night following the arrival of the Pekingese,
my son appeared with a white terrier puppy. She bounded

8

in and joyously greeted us all in a boisterous manner.

Suddenly, the lord of the manor dog appeared growling and the white dog gave one leap in the air and leaped in my lap - why my lap I can't say except that it is broad and ample. My son explained that the dog was lost at the station and followed him.

Another dog!

This dog was a timid and affectionate dog. She never let my son out of her sight for a minute. He put her to bed in his room, but when he shut the door, she howled so he was obliged to retire early for the night, and I have strong suspicion that she slept on the bed.

The following Sunday a friend phoned that he would stop over on his way to New York. When he arrived he said he hadn't dared announce that he had bought and brought a dog with him. The meeting was more demonstrative on the dog's part than on mine.

Four dogs!

In the afternoon, a motor ride was proposed and all four dogs appeared wagging their tails and smiling - yes, dogs smile. They also have the opposite expression which was demonstrated that same afternoon.

The following week a friend, calling, said she thought the white dog was just the dearest dog she had

9

ever seen. I remarked that I thought it would be lovely
for her to adopt the dog. So he departed with her.

Also the small quiet pekingese dog departed.
He looked stupid and his tongue hung out, but he had
to be taught a thing only once, proving that appearances
were against him.

I was now left with two dogs. They still continued
scratching. I continued washing. Alas, no good ef-
fect. Friends suggested some strange skin disease, so I
called in a physician. The physician informed us that
washing never helped their trouble. I must sprinkle
them with a powder and leave it on all night and then wash
them the next morning.

We still have the second Pekingese on account of
her Christian disposition, her gentleness, her endearing
ways. She springs when she runs like a miniature fawn.
If you believed in transcendentalism, you would feel that
her soul was that of a departed saint. It was suggested
that we keep her all winter, but I said it was too bad that
we deprive a lady friend who wanted the dog so badly.

Another pet was a fluffy yellow ball chicken.
It's a pity these pets cannot retain their beauty and soft
quality of their youth.

We went to town for the winter. I absolutely

10

refused to take the chicken; my heart was cold to all appeals. The children wept.

An artist friend was visiting us at the time. He offered to take the fluffy ball. So he took it to town. When the artist, who was very tender hearted, painted, Fluffy Ball poised on his shoulder, but when he left the studio for his meals Fluffy Ball cried so bitterly that it gave the artist indigestion hurrying with his meals, and he had to go to the country for his health. I think he took the chicken with him.

I once remarked at dinner that I thought my children inherited their love of dogs from their father, but he immediately declared that he didn't like dogs but always regretted that we didn't have a cat. Thereupon my youthful son thoughtfully brought home a cat the next day.

There is a saying that cats are like women and dogs like men. This is an erroneous conclusion, for, since the possession of this cat, I feel that the statement should be reversed. Cats are like men. They are independent creatures. Whoever heard of a hermit woman. I recall Kipling's words, "The cat that walked by its lone." Women always want companionship and affection

11

like the trustful dog. If you are called to a neighbor who is ill, the dog accompanies you and like-wise expresses his affectionate sympathy. The cat remains by the fireside. In the evening the dog is ever ready to sit by you wherever you are; the cat chooses his place at a distance except on special occasions. I am speaking of cats in general. Of course, there are exceptional cats.

I have talked at length on dogs but they were not the only pets that were part of our household. I have reason to remember a goat.

This goat was trained to draw a wagon but it was likewise a house-trained goat, without any doubt in my mind, when it was young. With age, it had developed large and healthy proportions and horns and a steady balance on its hind legs. He never took this attitude seriously himself, - rather as a playful way of accosting you when you met him on the lawn, but behind a tree or up one I always felt safer.

He had a sense of humor too. In summer it was annoying though to have to keep the doors shut, and sometimes the children left them open and he always took advantage of such occasions. One day he devoured

12

a manuscript of mine on Cosmic Consciousness. I remember my husband uttering a flippant remark over this tradgedy,- that it was just as well, as the goat was the only one who could have digested it.

The same afternoon he ate all the flowers in the house. On another day he bounded up the front stairs and then stood in his playful manner before the frightened seamstress who, with screams, entered a closet. As I said, the goat had a sense of humor and a playful manner. He remained there the entire afternoon; so did the seamstress. She declared he winked at her every time she poked her head out of the closet, but, of course, when one is in an excited condition one's imagination is apt to run away with one. Something had to run away. The goat wouldn't and she couldn't, so she said the goat or she would have to leave. I think my son compromised by promising to tie the goat up. Because of his greedy disposition, this was an economical thing to do, for he had brought the wrath of the gardener on his head. In fact, he wasn't a popular goat and, after the following episode, we disposed of him.

A very beautiful timid and elegant young lady and her fiancée came to visit us. He was an old friend and it was her first introduction to the family.

13

Dinner was announced. We waited and waited, but she did not appear. My husband, who is very impatient over delayed meals, walked up and down in the dining room and said things - you know the kind of things men say on such occasions about women always, etc., etc. I returned to the library.

"Won't you please go up stairs and see what has happened," my friend said anxiously.

The goat, after his enjoyment of the game of peek-a-boo with the seamstress, was indulging in the same game with the timid young lady. I had to call my son to the rescue, as the goat and I were not on intimate terms, and only friends of muscular strength under such conditions conquered.

The next day an old lady aunt came to visit us. My son tied the goat with a string to the door knob. When she pulled the door open, the goat came in, and, needless to say, she did not go out. The goat assumed his upright position and the old lady fell on all fours - I mean, on her hands and knees. The seamstress shut herself in the closet and the maid came to the rescue with a feather duster, but when she saw that the goat was tied she refused intimate contact with the goat for the untieing

14

of strings. My son could not be found. The old lady watched the sub set, the goat took a nap, the maid stayed by with the feather duster and the seastress remained in the closet. The following day, however, my son spent the afternoon in the closet and the goat departed.

These are only a few of the pets. We had white rats, chemelions, crows, a poll parrot and rabbits which formed this collection. When we moved to town for the winter the question came up as to what we should do with these weird companions.

My young son and the family bachelor physician in Rye were great friends and they had a fellow feeling for these weird pets. When I saw their heads together, whispering mysteriously, I knew that either the physician was about to present my son with something new or the physician was about to take over one and all of my son's collection.

Authors ought to live on a desert island, but then - I suppose you would need a dog. I would choose a Newfoundland.

THE THREE LITTLE BEARS,
GOLDENLOCKS, ADMIRAL T-WEE AND THE MONKEYS.

Once upon a time there was a little girl
named Goldenlocks, who went down to the river
and fell asleep under a big tree. A mischievous
little Monkey, Admiral T-Wee, all dressed up in
his Sunday clothes - red coat, red cap with a big
feather on it - spied Goldenlocks asleep. He reached
out his arm and pulled her hair. That woke her up,
and she looked around but saw no one, because T-Wee
was hiding behind the trees. So, back to sleep she
went, and T-Wee laughed and pulled her hair again.
But this time when she awoke little T-Wee was danc-
ing in front of her, singing:

"I'm a little Monkey
My name is T-Wee.
I'm out for a lark,
I'm off on a spree -
So I've bought Noah's Ark
To sail out to sea.
Now let us all embark
With Monkeys for a crew

-2-

And take along my elephant

And Captain Kangaroo.

For I'm out for a lark,

I'm off on a spree

To dance a jig-a-gee -

Won't you come along with me?

Taking Goldenlocks' hand, he danced with her
a little jig. Then off they flew to join the
merry crew.

But, oh dear me - it was a very rough day,
and when they joined the crew, Noah's Ark sailed
up on one wave, and dipped down, down, down
on another, until Goldenlocks thought they were
going to the bottom of the sea. The Kangaroo
got excited and sailed the Ark around and around
in a circle until they were all dizzy. After a while
the monkeys climbed the mast and shouted "Island,
ahoy!" Then Noah's Ark soared up on a very big wave
and landed with a bump and a bang on the island,
Com-A-Ru.

Now what were they to do?

"T-Wee," cried Goldenlocks, "you
promised to take me to the cozy little house of
the Three Little Bears, who live near the forest

-3-

on the great steep rock overlooking the sea.
And here we've landed on the island Com-a-Ru.

"Now what are we to do?"

Then the crew all shouted in chorus:

"We've landed on the island, Com-A-Ru;
Now, what are we to do?"

Little Admiral T-Wee jumped from the Ark, landed
lightly on the sand and danced and sang:

"I'm little T-Wee,
And I'm out for a spree,
So - all follow me!"

Then they went into the woods and found lots of
fruits and berries. Goldenlocks rode on the
Elephant, while the Kangaroo reached up and pulled
bananas; the Monkey climbed trees and shook down
cocoanuts, one of which hit the Kangaroo. And
wasn't he angry! He said he'd go home. But
the Monkeys all laughed:

"Ha-ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha!
The cocoanut hit the Kangaroo,
And he kicked up a terrible hullabaloo.

He tried to pull our Monkeys' tails,
But we only laughed in fits and gales
While he made a horrible hullabaloo."

-4-

Goldenlocks rode the Elephant till a branch
of the tree swept her off his back. She held
on, however, and T-Wee, and the Elephant, with
his trunk, lifted her back to her place.

The Kangaroo was a very disagreeable
fellow, strutting around hoping everyone would
notice him, or talking about his great ancestors
who "lived before man," as he proudly boasted.
The Monkeys answered:

"How about us, old Roo? We're older than you.
What care we for 'Who's Who!'"

And they sang:

"He prides himself
On his ancestors, Roo,
But his pride will fall
Like Humpty-Dumpty's on the Wall,
And all the King's horses
And all the King's men
Won't put Roo's pride
Together again."

Then the Admiral T-Wee called out: "Now
we're ready for a picnic. Seat yourselves."

The Kangaroo, who was very selfish, grabbed all
the food he could get and ate very fast. He
even stuffed what he couldn't eat into his pouth.
But selfish animals, as well as people, always get
into trouble, and he got a stamach ache and made a

-5-

big noise, roaring with pain, "Ou Owoo!" And it
served him right.

The Elephant was lying under the trees.
(He was of peaceful Quaker origin.) Blinking his
funny little eyes, he said in a deep voice:

"Boast not of thy wild ancestors, Roo,
Reform thyself, as a Kangaroo."

And the Monkeys sang:

"You'd better reform your wicked ways,
Instead of boasting of other days.
You certainly are no beauty.
Neither are you a 'cutey.'
Your legs are out of proportion,
They certainly are a caution."

The Kangaroo, raising his head haughtily,
sneered, "Thanks, awfully," and hopped away.

All of a sudden they heard a frightful
roaring. It was a big Lion, coming nearer
and nearer. They were all scared and climbed
back into the Ark, except little T-Wee, who was
not afraid because he had a magic wand. He
just waved the wand in front of the Lion, and
the Lion put his tail between his legs and
ran away. Then the Giraffe appeared and
begged Admiral T-Wee to take him along to see
the Three Little Bears.

-6-

"I'll be a flagpole. All you need do
is to tie the flag on my neck. It will be so
high up everyone can see it. All night I'll sit
in the bow and carry a flashlight in my mouth for a
headlight." So he was voted a member of the
Admiral's crew. And they named him Lee.

The bell rang.

"All ready for the march," shouted
Admiral T-Wee. "The Giraffe can lead with the
flag up the steep stone path overlooking the sea."

Following the Giraffe came T-Wee and
Goldenlocks riding on the Elephant's back, then
the Monkeys, dressed in blue and gold, and last
of all the Kangaroo. He was very angry because
the Giraffe had been made the leader, and he
muttered and spluttered. When they were nearing
the top, on a very high cliff, he saw the little
Monkey, that had accidentally hit him with the cocoanut.
Again he became angry, and tried to throw the little
fellow over the cliff. Now, the little Monkey
happened to know that the Kangaroo was ticklish.
He also knew that he could not fight him,
so he started to tickle him. The Kangaroo
laughed so hard and danced around so madly, he
dropped the little Monkey; but he, himself, lost

-8-

and eat it."

"Porridge," sneered T-Wee. Not for me;
pap is good only for babies."

Then they went into the bedroom with the
three beds all in a row - one for Papa Bear, one
for Mama Bear and one for Little Susie Ann. In
the little bed was Susie Ann's little Teddy Bear.
As soon as Goldenlocks saw the Teddy Bear she clapped
her hands and said: "I am going to lie down in
the little bed with the Teddy Bear. I am so
tired."

T-Wee tucked her in while she clasped
Teddy Bear in her arms, and T-Wee lay down on the
rug by her side and they went fast to sleep.

The Giraffe was looking in the window all
the time, and he wanted to grab the Teddy Bear
to tease Goldenlocks, but he couldn't get his
head in far enough because of the flag which
was tied to his neck.

The Elephant told him it wasn't polite
to look in windows,- "besides, you will wake
Goldenlocks." So, with his trunk, he grabbed
the Giraffe's tail and pulled him away.

-9-

SECOND PART.

Enter the Three Little Bears.

Papa Bear, wearing a green cloth coat trimmed
with gold and a stove-pipe hat with a long yellow
feather; and Mama Bear with a poke bonnet, a hoop-
skirt and full yellow dress and pantalettes; a
shawl hung over her shoulders. And she thought
her costume very stylish. But the hoopskirt kept
getting her into a lot of trouble. It caught on
all the bushes in the woods and various places in
the house - still, she had to be stylish. Little
Susie Ann wore a pink and white check apron, panta-
lettes, and her ears were tied with pink hair ribbons.

They entered the kitchen first, and Susie Ann
soon spied her empty bowl.

"Someone has eaten my porridge," she said, and
she began to cry.

"Don't cry," comforted her mother. "Cry
when you have taken off your pretty pink apron.
You'll spoil it. Here, you can have half of my porridge."
Then she saw a spoon in her porridge and one in Papa's
porridge.

-10-

Mama Bear suddenly looked frightened, and
she cried out, "I think there is a bold, big robber
in the house!"

"Where?" asked Papa Bear, also looking
frightened.

"I said, 'I think.'"

"Oh, that's safer," answered Papa Bear,
looking relieved.

"He isn't big," chimed in Susie Ann. "He
is a little robber. Look, he sat in my chair and
broke it!"

Mama Bear went to look at the broken chair.
Susie Ann ran up against her Mother, throwing
the hoopskirt in the air, and it caught on Susie
Ann's little hatstand; and the stand and she
fell to the floor.

"Oh, that hoopskirt," wailed Mama Bear.
"Gooseness! It's always getting me into trouble!"

Females wear such silly things," sneered
Papa Bear. "Why, you even wanted to buy a pair
of shoes with long heels no larger around than
a nail."

"Well, I have to be in style, don't I?"

"Yes," said Papa Bear scornfully, "if you

-11-

don't want to be an individualist. Now I'm an
individualist. I'm unusual; therefore, I'm not
like everyone else."

"Individualist!" she exclaimed. How about
males? Don't they wear woolen coats and vests
in summer, with the thermometer one hundred, so
as to look like all the rest of the males? If
you were in a parade, I couldn't tell you from
the others ... Gooseness, you might help me up!"

And Papa Bear, with a flourish of his hat,
the feather waving in the air - helped her up.

"Gooseness, you have a lot of <u>manner</u>, Papa Bear, but no <u>manners</u>," she said disdainfully.

"Where is the little robber?" asked Susie
Ann, looking for excitement. "I want to see the
little robber."

They all joined hands and sang:

## SONG

"We'll chase the robber to his lair,
We'll chase him round and round.
We'll hit him on his crown
Until he tumbles down.
If you think we do not dare,
Watch us chase him to his lair."

When they finished dancing, they went into
the bedroom. Susie Ann called out, "The little robber

-12

is in my bed, and she has my Teddy Bear, and there's
a live Monkey on the floor."

They all bent over the foot of the bed, and
looked at Goldenlocks fast asleep, with her golden
hair all over the pillow.

Goldenlocks awoke. She sat up and looked
around. At first, so frightened, she thought she
would run away. But Admiral T-Wee jumped up, flour-
ished his hat in his hand, made a bow, and said:

"Honorable Mr. Bear and Mrs. Bear and Susie
Ann, we've come to make a call and invite you to a
ball - Papa Bear and Mama Bear and Little Susie Ann.

"Will you join our jolly crew
And dance a jig-a-gee
And all sail out to sea?"

And the Three Little Bears sang:

"We're ready for a lark,
So we'll join your merry crew
And dance a jig-a-gee
And soon sail out to sea."

Then Goldenlocks jumped out of bed. She,
T-Wee and the Three Little Bears all joined hands
and danced, singing:

"Hi dee diddle dee,
Hi diddle dee dee."

The Giraffe led the way, waving his flag in
the air. Papa Bear and Mama Bear followed with
little Susie Ann, Goldenlocks riding on the