THE BROOK KERITH

CHAP. I.

IT was at the end of a summer evening, long after his usual bedtime, that Joseph, sitting on his grandmother's knee, heard her tell that Kish having lost his asses sent Saul, his son, to seek them in the land of the Benjamites and the land of Shalisha, whither they might have strayed. But they were not in these lands, she continued, nor in Zulp, Son, whither Saul went afterwards, and being then tired out with looking for them he said to the servant: We shall do well to forget the asses, lest my father should ask what has become of us. But the servant, being of a mind that Kish would not care to see them without the asses, said to young Saul: Let us go up into yon city, for a great seer lives there and he will be able to put us in the right way to come upon the asses. But we have little in our wallet to recompense him, Saul answered, only half a loaf and a little wine at the end of the bottle. We have more than that, the servant replied, and opening his hand he showed a quarter of a shekel of silver to Saul, who said: He will take that in payment. Whereupon they walked into Arimathea, casting their eyes about for somebody to direct them to the seer's house. And seeing some maidens at the well, come to draw water, they asked them if the seer had been in the city that day, and were answered that he had been seen and would offer sacrifice that morning, as had been announced. He must be on his way now to the high rock, one of the maidens cried

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after them, and they pressed through the people till none
was in front of them but an old man walking alone,
likewise in the direction of the rock; and overtaking
him they asked if he could point out the seer's house
to them, to which he answered sharply: I am the seer,
and fell at once to gazing on Saul as if he saw in him
the one that had been revealed to him. For you see, Son,
seers have foresight, and the seer had been warned over-
night that the Lord would send a young man to him, so the
moment he saw Saul he knew him to be the one the Lord
had promised, and he said: Thou art he whom the Lord has
promised to send me for an appointment, but more than that
I cannot tell thee, being on my way to offer sacrifice, but
afterwards we will eat together, and all that has been
revealed to me I will tell. You understand me, Son, the
old woman crooned, the Lord had been with Samuel
beforetimes and had promised to send the King of Israel
to him for an appointment, and he moment the laid eyes
on Saul he knew him to be the king; and that was why
he asked him to eat with him after sacrifice. Yes,
Granny, I understand: but did the Lord set the asses
astray that Saul might follow them and come to Samuel
to be made a King? I daresay there was something like
that at the bottom of it, the old woman answered, and con-
tinued her story till her knees ached under the boy's weight.

The child's asleep, she said, and on the instant he
awoke erying: No, Granny, I wasn't asleep. I heard all
you said and would like to be a prophet. A prophet,
Joseph, and to anoint a king? But there are no more
prophets or kings in Israel. And now, Joseph, my little
prophet, 'tis bedtime and past it. Come. I didn't say I
wanted to anoint kings, he answered, and refused to go to
bed, though manifestly he could hardly keep awake. I'll
wait up for Father.

Now what can the child want his father for at this
hour? she muttered as she went about the room, not

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guessing that he was angry and resentful, that her words
had wounded him deeply and that he was asking himself,
in his corner, if she thought him too stupid to be a
prophet.

I'll tell thee no more stories, she said to him, but he
answered that he did not want to hear her stories, and
betwixt feelings of anger and shame his head drooped,
and he slept in his chair till the door opened and his
father's footsteps crossed the threshold.

Now, he said to himself, Granny will tell father that
I said I'd like to be a prophet. And feigning sleep he
listened, determined to hear the worst that could be said
of him. But they did not speak about him but of the
barrels of salt fish that were to go to Beth-Shemish on the
morrow; which was their usual talk. So he slipped from
his chair and bade his father good-night. A resentful
good-night it was; and his good-night to his grandmother
was still more resentful. But she found an excuse for his
rudeness, saying that his head was full of sleep—a remark
that annoyed him considerably and sent him upstairs
wishing that women would not talk about things they
do not understand. I'll ask father in the morning why
Granny laughed at me for saying I'd like to be a prophet.
But as morning seemed still a long way ahead he tried
to find a reason, but could find no better one than that
prophets were usually old men. But I shall be old in
time to come and have a beard. Father has a beard and
they can't tell that I won't have a beard, and a white one
too, so why should they—

His senses were numbing, and he must have fallen asleep
soon after, for when he awoke it seemed to him that he
had been asleep a long time, several hours at least, so
many things had happened or seemed to have happened;
but as he recovered his mind all the dream happenings
melted away, and he could remember only his mother.
She had been dead four years, but in his dream she looked

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as she had always looked, and had scolded Granny for laughing at him. He tried to remember what else she had said but her words faded out of his mind and he fell asleep again. In this second sleep an old man rose up by his bedside and told him that he was the prophet Samuel, who though he had been dead a thousand years had heard him say he would like to be a prophet. But shall I be a prophet? Joseph asked, and as Samuel did not answer he cried out as loudly as he could: Shall I? Shall I?

What ails thee, Son? he heard his grandmother calling to him, and he answered: An old man, an old man. Ye are dreaming, she mumbled between sleeping and waking. Go to sleep like a good boy, and don't dream any more. I will, Granny, and don't be getting up; the bed-clothes don't want settling. I am well tucked in, he pleaded; and fell asleep praying that Granny had not heard him ask Samuel if he would be a prophet.

A memory of his dream of Samuel came upon him while she dressed him, and he hoped she had forgotten all about it; but his father mentioned at breakfast that he had been awakened by cries. It was Joseph crying out in his dream, Dan, disturbed thee last night: such cries, "Shall I? Shall I?" And when I asked "What ails thee?" the only answer I got was "An old man."

Dan, Joseph's father, wondered why Joseph should seem so disheartened and why he should murmur so perfunctorily that he could not remember his dream. But if he had forgotten it, why trouble him further? If we are to forget anything it were well that we should choose our dreams; at which piece of incredulity his mother shook her head, being firm in the belief that there was much sense in dreams and that they could be interpreted to the advantage of everybody.

Dan said: If that be so, let him tell thee his dream. But Joseph hung his head and pushed his plate away; and seeing him so morose they left him to his sulks and

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fell to talking of dreams that had come true. Joseph had never heard them speak of anything so interesting before, and though he suspected that they were making fun of him he could not do else than listen, till becoming convinced suddenly that they were talking in good earnest without intention of fooling him he began to regret that he had said he had forgotten his dream, and rapped out: He was the prophet Samuel. Now what are you saying, Joseph? his father asked. Joseph would not say any more, but it pleased him to observe that neither his father nor his granny laughed at his admission, and seeing how interested they were in his dream he said: If you want to know all, Samuel said he had heard me say that I'd like to be a prophet. That was why he came back from the dead. But, Father, is it true that we are his descendants? He said that I was.

A most extraordinary dream, his father answered, for it has always been held in the family that we are descended from him. Do you really mean, Joseph, that the old man you saw in your dream told you he was Samuel and that you were his descendant? How should I have known if he hadn't told me? Joseph looked from one to the other and wondered why they had kept the secret of his ancestor from him. You laughed at me yesterday, Granny, when I said I'd like to be a prophet. Now what do you say? Answer me that. And he continued to look from one to the other for an answer. But neither had the wit to find an answer, so amazed were they at the news that the prophet Samuel had visited Joseph in a dream; and satisfied at the impression he had made and a little frightened by their silence Joseph stole out of the room, leaving his parents to place whatever interpretation they pleased on his dream. Nor did he care whether they believed he had spoken the truth. He was more concerned with himself than with them, and conscious that something of great importance had happened to him

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he ascended the stairs, pausing at every step uncertain if he should return to ask for the whole of the story of Saul's anointment. It seemed to him to lack courtesy to return to the room in which he had seen the prophet, till he knew these things. But he could not return to ask questions: later he would learn what had happened to Samuel and Saul, and he entered the room, henceforth to him a sacred room, and stood looking through it, having all the circumstances of his dream well in mind: he was lying on his left side when Samuel had risen up before him, and it was there, upon that spot, in that space he had seen Samuel. His ancestor had seemed to fade away from the waist downwards, but his face was extraordinarily clear in the darkness, and Joseph tried to recall it. But he could only remember it as a face that a spirit might wear, for it was not made up of flesh but of some glowing matter or stuff, such as glow-worms are made of; nor could he call it ugly or beautiful, for it was not of this world. He had drawn the bed-clothes over his head, but —impelled he knew not why, for he was nearly dead with fright he had poked his head out to see if the face was still there. The lips did not move, but he had heard a voice. The tones were not like any heard before, but he had listened to them all the same, and if he had not lost his wits again in an excess of fear he would have put questions to Samuel: he would have put questions if his tongue had not been tied back somewhere in the roof of his mouth. But the next time he would not be frightened and pull the bed-clothes over his head.

And convinced of his own courage he lay night after night thinking of all the great things he would ask the old man and of the benefit he would derive from his teaching. But Samuel did not appear again, perhaps because the nights were so dark. Joseph was told the moon would become full again, but sleep closed his eyes when he should have been waking, and in the morning

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he was full of fear that perhaps Samuel had come and gone away disappointed at not finding him awake. But that could not be, for if the prophet had come he would have awakened him as he had done before. His ancestor had not come again: a reasonable thing to suppose, for when the dead return to the earth they do so with much pain and difficulty; and if the living, whom they come to instruct, cannot keep their eyes open, the poor dead wander back and do not try to come between their descendants and their fate again.

But I will keep awake, he said, and resorted to all sorts of devices, keeping up a repetition of a little phrase: He will come to-night when the moon is full; and lying with one leg hanging out of bed; and these proving unavailing he strewed his bed with crumbs. But no ancestor appeared, and little by little he relinquished hope of ever being able to summon Samuel to his bedside, and accepted as an explanation of his persistent absence that Samuel had performed his duty by coming once to visit him and would not come again unless some new necessity should arise. It was then that the conviction began to mount into his brain that he must learn all that his grandmother could tell him about Saul and David, and learning from her that they had been a great trouble to Samuel he resolved never to allow a thought into his mind that the prophet would deem unworthy. To become worthy of his ancestor was now his aim, and when he heard that Samuel was the author of two sacred books it seemed to him that his education had been neglected: for he had not yet been taught to read. Another step in his advancement was the discovery that the language his father, his granny and himself spoke was not the language spoken by Samuel, and every day he pressed his grandmother to tell him why the Jews had lost their language in Babylon, till he exhausted the old woman's knowledge and she said: Well now, Son, if you want to hear any

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more about Babylon you must ask your father, for I have
told you all I know. And Joseph waited eagerly for his
father to come home, and plagued him to tell him a story.

But after a long day spent in the counting-house his
father was often too tired to take him on his knee and
instruct him, for Joseph's curiosity was unceasing and
very often wearisome. Now, Joseph, his father said, you
will learn more about these things when you are older.
And why not now? he asked, and his grandmother
answered that it was change of air that he wanted and
not books; and they began to speak of the fierce summer
that had taken the health out of all of them, and of how
necessary it was for a child of that age to be sent up to
the hills.

Dan looked into his son's face, and Rachel seemed to
be right. A thin, wan little face, that the air of the hills
will brighten, he said; and he began at once to make
arrangements for Joseph's departure for a hill village,
saying that the pastoral life of the hills would take his
mind off Samuel, Hebrew and Babylon. Rachel was
doubtful if the shepherds would absorb Joseph's mind as
completely as his father thought. She hoped, however,
that they would. As soon as he hears the sound of the
pipe, his father answered. A prophecy this was, for while
Joseph was resting after the fatigue of the journey, he was
awakened suddenly by a sound he had never heard
before, and one that interested him strangely. His nurse
told him that the sound he was hearing was a shepherd's
pipe. The shepherd plays and the flock follows, she said.
And when may I see the flock coming home with the
shepherd? he asked. To-morrow evening, she answered,
and the time seemed to him to loiter, so eager was he
to see the flocks returning and to watch the she-goat
milked.

As his strength came back he followed the shepherds
and heard from them many stories of wolves and dogs, and

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from a shepherd lad, whom he had chosen as a companion,
he acquired knowledge of the plumage and the cries and
the habits of birds, and whither he was to seek their
nests: it had become his ambition to possess all the wild
birds' eggs, one that was easily satisfied till he came to the\ egg of the cuckoo, which he sought in vain, hearing of it
often, now here, now there, till at last he and the shepherd
lad ventured into a dangerous country in search of it and
remained there till news of their absence reached Magdala
and Dan set out in great alarm with an armed escort to
recover his son. He was very angry when he came upon
him, but the trouble he had been put to, and the ransom he
had had to pay were very soon forgotten, so great was his
pleasure at the strong healthy boy he brought back with
him, and whose first question to Rachel was: Are there
cuckoos in Magdala?—father doesn't know. His grand-
mother could not tell him, but she was willing to make
inquiries, but before any news of the egg had been gotten
the hope to possess it seemed to have drifted out of Joseph's
mind and to seem even a little foolish when he looked into
his box, for many of his egg shells had been broken on the
journey. See, Granny, he said, but on second thoughts he
refused to show his chipped possessions. But thou wast
once as eager to learn Hebrew, his grandmother said, and
the chance words, spoken as she left the room, awakened his
suspended interests. As soon as she returned she was
beset by questions, and the same evening his father had
to promise that the best scribe in Galilee should be
engaged to teach him: a discussion began between Dan
and Rachel as to the most notable and trustworthy, and it
was followed by Joseph so eagerly that they could not
help laughing; the questions he put to them regarding
the different accomplishments of the scribes were very
minute, and the phrase—But this one is a Greek scholar,
stirred his curiosity. Why should he be denied me
because he knows Greek? he asked, and his father could

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only answer that no one can learn two languages at the same time. But if he knows two languages, Joseph insisted. I cannot tell thee more, his father answered, than that the scribe I've chosen is a great Hebrew scholar.

He was no doubt a great scholar, but he was not the man that Joseph wished for: thin and tall and of gentle appearance and demeanour, he did not stir up a flame for work in Joseph, who, as soon as the novelty of learning Hebrew had worn off, began to hide himself in the garden. His father caught him one day sitting in a convenient bough, looking down upon his preceptor fairly asleep on a bench; and after this adventure he began to make a mocking stock of his preceptor, inventing all kinds of cruelties, and his truancy became so constant that his father was forced to choose another. This time a younger man was chosen, but he succeeded with Joseph not very much better than the first. After the second there came a third, and when Joseph began to complain of his ignorance his father said:

Well, Joseph, you said you wanted to learn Hebrew, and you have shown no application, and three of the most learned scribes in Galilee have been called in to teach you.

Joseph felt the reproof bitterly, but he did not know how to answer his father and he was grateful to his grandmother for her answer. Joseph isn't an idle boy, Dan, but his nature is such that he cannot learn from a man he doesn't like. Why don't you give him Azariah as an instructor?—Has he been speaking to you about Azariah? Dan asked.—Maybe, she said, and Dan's face clouded.

## CHAP. II.

WE understand then, Son, Dan said, on hearing that the fourth preceptor whom he had engaged to teach his son Hebrew had failed to give satisfaction, that you cannot

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learn from anybody but Azariah. Now, will you tell us what there is in Azariah more than in Shimshai, Benaiah or Zebad? and he waited for his son to speak, but as Joseph did not answer he asked: Is it because he looks more like a prophet than any of the others? And Joseph, who still dreaded any allusion to prophets, turned into his corner mortified. But Rachel came forward directly and taking the child by the shoulders led him back to his father, asking Dan with a trace of anger in her voice why he should think it strange that the child should prefer to learn from Azariah rather than from a withered patriarch who never could keep his eyes open but always sat dozing in his chair like one in a dream.

It wasn't, Granny, because he went to sleep often; I could have kept him awake by kicking him under the table. Joseph stopped suddenly and looked from one to the other.

Why then? his father asked, and on being pressed to say why he didn't want to learn Hebrew he said he had come to hate Hebrew, an admission which rendered his parents speechless for a moment. Come to hate Hebrew, they repeated one after the other till frightened by their solemnity Joseph blurted out:

You wouldn't like Hebrew if the scholar's fleas jumped on to you the moment you began. And pulling up his sleeves Joseph exhibited his arms. How could I learn Hebrew with three fleas biting me and all at one time, one here, another there and a third down yonder. He always has three or four about him. No, Father, don't, don't ask me to learn Hebrew any more.—But, Joseph, all Hebrew scholars haven't fleas about them.

An unbelieving face confronted them, and Joseph looked as if he were uncertain whether he should laugh or cry: but seeing that his parents liked his story he began to laugh.

We've tried several preceptors but you're hard to

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please, Joseph. Now what fault did you find with—and
while Dan searched his memory for the name Joseph
interjected that the little fellow whose back bulged like
Granny's chest wouldn't let him read the interesting
parts of the Scriptures but kept him always at the Psalms
and the Proverbs. And he was always telling me about
Hillel, who was a good man, but good men aren't as
interesting as prophets, Joseph rapped out. And wilt
thou tell us what he told thee about these pious men?
Dan asked, a smile playing about his long thin mouth.
That the law didn't matter as long as we were virtuous,
Joseph muttered, and he was always explaining the stories
that I understood quite well when Granny told them.
So it was Hiram that confirmed you in your distaste for
Hebrew, Dan said, and the child stood looking at his
father, not quite sure if it would be in his interest to
accept or repudiate the suggestion. He would have
refused to give a direct answer (such is the way of
children) but the servant relieved him of his embarrass-
ment: Azariah was at the gate asking for shelter from
the rain.

From the rain! Dan said, rising suddenly. It is coming
down very fast, Mother, but we were so engaged in
listening to Joseph that we didn't hear it. Shall we ask
him in, Joseph? The child's face lighted up. Now isn't
it strange, Rachel said he should call to-day? We
haven't seen him for months, and now in the middle of a
talk about tutors—aren't you going to ask him in? Of
course, Dan said, and he instructed the servant to ask the
scribe to come upstairs. And now, Joseph, I hope you'll
listen to all that Azariah says, giving quiet and reasonable
answers. And not too many questions, mind!

Joseph promised to be good and quiet and to keep
himself from putting questions. I will listen attentively
he said, and he seized on the last chance available to his
tongue to tell that he had often seen Azariah in the lanes.

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He doesn't see us, he walks like one in a dream, his hair
blowing in the wind. But when he does see us he speaks
very kindly . . . I think I'd like to learn Hebrew from
him. Rachel laid her finger on her lips; the door opened
and Azariah advanced into the room with a long grave
Jewish stride, apologizing to Dan as he came for his
sudden intrusion into their midst, mentioning the heavy
rain in a graceful phrase. Joseph, who was on the watch
for everything, could see that his father was full of respect
for Azariah, and hearing him say that it was some years
since Azariah had been in his house he began to wonder
if there had been a quarrel between them; it seemed to
him that his father was a little afraid of Azariah, which
was strange, for he himself did not feel in the least afraid
of Azariah but an almost uncontrollable desire to go and
sit on his knee.

Here is my boy Joseph: and, Azariah, you will be
interested to hear that we were talking about you for the
last quarter of an hour.

Azariah raised his thick eyebrows and waited to be
told how he had come to be the subject of their talk,
though he half knew the reason, for in a village like
Magdala it soon gets about that four preceptors have
been sent away unable to teach the rich man's son. He
has made up his mind, Dan said, to learn Hebrew and
Greek from none but you. No, Father, I didn't make
up my mind. But I couldn't learn from the others and I
told you why. Are you sure that you can learn from me?
Azariah asked. Joseph became shy at once, but he liked
to feel Azariah's friendly hand upon his shoulder, and
when Dan asked the scribe to be seated Joseph followed
him, and standing beside his chair asked him if he would
teach him Hebrew, a question Azariah did not answer him.
You will teach me, he insisted, and Dan and Rachel kept
silence, so that they might better observe Joseph working
round Azariah with questions; and they were amused, for

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Joseph's curiosity had overcome his shyness; and, quite forgetful of his promise to listen and not to talk, he had begun to beg the scribe to tell him if the language they spoke had been brought back from Babylon, and how long it was since people had ceased to speak Hebrew. Azariah set himself to answer these questions; Joseph gave him close attention, and when Azariah ceased speaking he said: When may I begin my lessons? And he put the question so innocently that his father could not help laughing. But, Joseph, he said, Azariah has not yet promised to teach you, and I wouldn't advise him to try to teach a boy that has refused to learn from four preceptors. But it will be different with you, Sir, Joseph murmured, taking Azariah's hand. You will teach me, won't you? When will you begin?

Azariah answered that it could not be this week, for he was going to Arimathea. The town we came from, Dan said. I am still known as Dan of Arimathea, though I have lived here twenty years. I too shall be known as Joseph of Arimathea, Joseph interjected. I'd like Joseph of Arimathea much better than Joseph of Magdala.

You needn't shake your head at Magdala, Dan said. Magdala has done well for us. To which Joseph answered nothing, but it was not long, however, before he went to his father saying that he would like to go to Arimathea, and in charge of Azariah.

You are asking too much, Joseph, his father answered him. No, I don't think I am, and his honour Azariah doesn't think so, Joseph cried, for his heart was already set upon this holiday. Azariah has perhaps promised to teach you Hebrew. Isn't that enough? his father remarked. Now you want him to take you to Arimathea. But if he likes to take me, Joseph replied, and he cast such a winning glance at Azariah that the scribe was moved to say that he would be glad to take charge of the boy if his parents would confide him to his care. Where-

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upon Joseph threw his arms about his father, but finding him somewhat indifferent he went to this grandmother, who welcomed his embrace, and in return for it pleaded that the boy should not be denied this small pleasure. But Dan, who only half liked to part with his son, tried to hide his feelings from his mother, who had guessed them already, with a joke, saying to Azariah that he was a brave man to undertake the charge of so wayward a boy. I shall not spoil him, and if he fails to obey he'll have to find someone else to teach him Hebrew, Azariah answered. I think the rain is now over, he said. Some drops were still falling but the sky was brightening, and he returned from the window to where Joseph was standing, and laying his hand on his head promised to call for him in the morning.

We shall hear no more about fleas preventing thee from study, Dan said to his son, and very much offended Joseph withdrew to his room, and stood looking at the spot in which he had seen Samuel, asking himself if the prophet would appear to him in Arimathea and if it would be by the fountain whither the maidens used to come to draw water. Samuel and the maidens seemed to jar a little, and as he could not think of them together he fell to thinking of the rock on which the seer used to offer sacrifices. It was still there and somebody would be about to direct them to it, and it would be under this rock that Azariah would read to him all that Samuel had said to Saul. But we shall be riding all day, he said to himself, Arimathea must be a long long way from here, and he fled downstairs to ask his father if Azariah would call for him at the head of a caravan, whether he would ride on a camel or a mule or a horse: he thought he would like to ride a camel, and awoke many times in the night, once rolling out of his bed, for in a dream the ungainly animal had jolted him from off his hump.

And the old woman's patience was nigh exhausted

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when he cried: Granny, it is day, and bade her leave her
bed and come to the window to tell him if day were not
breaking; but she answered: Get thee back to thy bed,
for 'tis the moon shining down the sky, simpleton. The
sun won't give way an hour to the moon nor the moon
an hour to the sun because thou'rt going to Arimathea.
And methinks, Joseph, that to some the morrow is always
better than to-day, and yesterday better than either,—a
remark that puzzled Joseph and kept him from his rest.
Did ye never hear, Joseph, that it is a clever chicken that
crows in the egg? the old woman continued, and who
knows but Azariah will forget to call for thee! He
won't forget, Granny, Joseph uttered in so doleful a tone
that Rachel repented and promised Joseph she would
wake him in time; and as she had never failed to keep
her promise to him he allowed sleep to close his eyelids.
And once asleep he was hard to awaken. At six in the
morning sleep seemed to him better than Arimathea, but
once awake Rachel could not dress him fast enough; he
escaped from her hands, dressing himself as he ran into
the lanes, and while tying his sandals at the gate he
forgot them and stood at gaze, wondering whether Azariah
would come to fetch him on a horse or an ass or a mule
or a camel.

At last the sound of hooves came through the dusk, and
a moment after some three or four camels led the way;
and there were horses too and asses and mules, and the
mules were caparisoned gaily, the one reserved for
Joseph's riding more richly than the others, he was glad
to see—a tall fine animal by which he was proud to
stand, asking questions of the muleteer, while admiring
the dark docile eyes shaded with black lashes. Now
why do we delay? he asked Azariah, who reminded
him—and somewhat tritely—that he had not yet said
good-bye to his parents. But they know I am going with
you, Sir, he answered. Azariah would not, however,

To:

GEORGE MOORE ON HIS EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY,

24th FEBRUARY, 1932.

AVE. Feeling that a more public gift would be distasteful to you, and that your place as a master of English letters is already so greatly established that any formal recognition from private persons would be presumptuous in those that offered it, we, a few of your friends, send you this message of congratulation on your eightieth birthday, claiming to represent therein neither the general homage that is your due nor the honour that is yours wherever art is honoured, but our personal friendship and our gratitude to an artist who, since he came to London from Paris many years ago, has not ceased to labour with a single mind in the perfecting of his craft, who has written in Daphnis and Chloe a flawless translation, in Esther Waters a tale that marks a period in our literature, in Hail and Farewell an autobiography that has rank with Rousseau's, in Heloise and Abelard a philosophical romance of supreme beauty, and in The Brook Kerith a prose epic unique in the English language. The uses of that language have been changed by your influence, as though in an ancient music you have discovered new melodies and rhythms that shall be in the air when young men in future time have stories to tell. You have taught narrative to flow again and anecdote to illumine it as the sun a stream. You have persuaded words and invention to sing new songs together that would have been heard, as those of an equal, by the masters upon whom the tradition of our literature relies, and on your eightieth birthday your pen is still unfailing in your hand. For these reasons we salute you, and for our friendship's sake. VALE.

which would annay Bill as He would beg him to confirm 2 - Confine him as he loves him

* succeeded in making her the thought came into his mind that if he could introduce the burglar into the house, an imitation burglar, of course, and then come in and rescue the lady from the imitation burglar, she would, in gratitude, marry him. At the end of this story Bill is anxious to get out of the window again, but Ben tempts him with a great sum of money and gives him a written statement saying that he is not a burglar - and so on as in the first act. And when all this is concluded they begin to lay plans as to how the alarm is to be given, but before anything is decided steps are heard. And the play goes on.

It seems to me that this arrangement would get rid of a very tedious act and would gain that which is so essential in a work of art - unity.

Ben again drops into sentiment and

Vive le medium

and Ben would then continue his story as he may do.