THE MOLLYCODDLE.

Dunstan Times, Issue 2676, 28 July 1913, Page 2

THE MOLLYCODDLE.

(By Harold MacGrath.)

It was a very dilapidated Tauchnitz. A healthy pud of wind would have carried it over the rail into the Gull ol Siam; and Maurice and Heruuone and Gaspare would have “mourued in nowmg purple” until the end ot rime, hrom between pages lot; and ibd where llermoino tains about Etna ana Maurice recalls playing dead m the water —Kate drew a letter, which was also beginning to show tiio wear ot weather and handling. For the thirteenth time she perused it, —being without superstition—-but she could not squeeze anything more out of it than she had at the first reading. Her brother was not subtle; there was never anything between the hues, if one excepted sundry sputteis from an ill-used pen —stub and acidbitten at that. No, Bob was no; subHe; and that was why she had cabled him. She wanted blunt facts—no maundenngs; and here the blunt tacu* We My dear Sisterina— Sure I know Ahthuh Wells M’ffmot? lies just as nice as he can be! And so jou ran into him at Cairo" M ant tacts, eh. Here goes: Yale vvasn t good enoug for him after the first year; so he went ovah to Oxford, y know, where thev give you culture with a large iv. He’s mamma’s boy and aunty s boy and grati’ma’s! He s been coddled up and yodelled to smeo the first bib. i he old man never dared to kick him, because the three women would have pulverised him; but it’s history that papa used to go down into the palatial cellar and chop wood by the hour to relieve his feelings. Pa Wihnot was one of those oldlmllodgs whod unexpectedly jump into Wall Street, yell wow-wow twice, and pick up the million or t\ o that the wolves had dropped in their hurry. He never went. in for ambs —not enough scrapping m that game . Mamma Wilmot’s family was three hundred years old, and Ahthuh io]>usents that part of the junk, along with the highbovs and lowboys and dewdrops and crotch-mahogany jsMeboards and Sheffield plate. Whew! , 1 know what you’ll say: I’ve met a gul interested in antiques. Go are tar a* jou llk Qf course we ragged Molly—that’s what we called Ahthuh—a good deal at college. Mollycoddle wo dubbed linn, and yet, my word for it, he fussed, us all. Ho wasn’t a silly aws—a Wnlic, be just smiled and bowed when any one trod on his toes. Ho lent Ins mone> freely, but ho never lent for boosting “pupposes” —only to help out some chap who told a good, tearful tale. He walked about like ft man m lus sleep; ho never woke up to the fact that wo were trying to make a tool ot he had written poetry wo could have understood; but all hq did was to read and quote it. Me found, out that mamma was to blame for bis going to Oxford. M T o might have made k man out of him at Ya e. He always stepped aside. Some of the rougher lads would yank the cigarette out nt his mouth, and all they d get for .hen trouble would be a smile and another cigarette. Baseball, football, trai *- meets —all Chinese to Molly. Ho just simply didn’t belong to the male species of a college campus—that s ftll Qld Man MHlmot died of apoplexy, and you can’t pud the wool over my eves as to what brought that about. I* was the ooat-of-arms Molly brought or sent home after getting his degree A r Oxford Ahthuh Wells M ilrnot Never expected him to bob up again! Lives over there, I presume, with mamma and aunty and gran ma. Odd that tou should have him along lor t ie final lap of the Grand Tour. He 11 ho fine to run errands —that _ is, n bo hasn’t changed. Kate, he just wasn t human; he was too good to he true. Never let out a hurrah; never got patriotically ‘‘imbued” when we walloped Prihoetown: never gambled, spooned,, hunted, fished or played. Yon know your loving brothers ; wo have three or four broken slats that 11 always bo threatening our lungs ami tummies, and noses that try to go on straight ahead whenever wo turn a comer; in other words, Molly is the kind of a dub that bothers our thinkers —can’t find any place to put him—don’t understand him! If bed been one of those sly, weak-kneed cads with money that infest our colleges these days 'everything would ho as clear as glass’. Well (take it from Brother Boh) that somewhere under his hide is the Old Man silently trying to get out. And I’d like to he on the spot when the bust-up comes. . , Lovingly. 808. P.S. Don’t do it Kate’! Don’t do it I Millions are 0.K., hut not with Molly tagging on behind. She was willing to wager what remained of her letter-of-credit that the postscript TTfl« not Bob’s —it «liowo-n too much insight; it was the girl with the antique furniture. It made her furious to think that thev should think anything of the kind. She twisted the letter into a taper, got ur> ami sought the broad teak rail. She flung the letter into the sea and watched it slowly vanish astern. . Everywhere grent swells un-cnilnted like the muscles of some giant athlete stretching in his sleep: living fish spun hither and thither and porpoises sported near by; and the sniee-hulen air from Borneo blew snftlv and deliciouslv across her face. Below, the steel windcatchers reaching out from the portholes like cannon, gave the floating hotel the martial semblance of a frigate of the lino searching the seas for an alien flag. Kate turned her glance from the sea to the Canton lounge forward, hist beyond the protection of the awning, in the full glare of the sunshine. To attract a person hv means of whistling was a sign of vulgarity—so she had boon taught; vet it was all she could do not to purse her young red lips into a shrilling. As if her thought had served without the more physical aid of the whistle, the young man reclining on the Canton lounge pulled aside the pith helmet with which he was shielding his face, smiled and rose. He smoothed his sleeves, shook his legs, looked at his cuffs —an exquisite shade of lavender silk, linked by genuine scarabs—felt of his cravat, and then walked toward her. ‘lf only he would trip and fall!” she murmured. “If only there was a shoestring loose!” “Is there anv thing I can do?” he asked, putting his helmet in the crook of his arm. He looked at his watch. “By Jove! half after four! Let mo get you a ten. or an ice.” “I should like-an ice; still, I’m not so feeble ” He was already on the Way down the i deck toward the refreshment table. j ‘Oh, Molly! Mollv!” she laughed— , then groaned : “If he had an English i accent I could forgive him.” _ | Nature had given Arthur M 7 ells M’il- * mot an exceedingly handsome face and 1 a wholesome, graceful figure; study ! had added to these a pleasing voice. I impeccable manners and a preference ; for the poets. He could recite A Tiling i of Beauty is a Joy Forever in such a manner as to cause young girls to bite ■ their lips and elderly ladies to seek , their handkerchiefs. But the flv in the , amber, the crack in the indo, was in , this strange and alien fact —Arthur was not sentimental. Who ever heard of a j

man who read aloud from the poets for the sake of the beauty he found there? —a handsome young man with bankers in New York and London and Baris! It was inconceivable. No one ever caught him reading in cosy corners, seeking the soul of the blond—or brunette —-young thing, or patting her head to bring out the cadences of certain lines. No. _ He was the same to the young, the middle.aged and the old —affable, courteous —a Mercury or a Ganymede whenever the occasion required the services of Jove’s footman or butler The menfolks of the party treated him rather contemptuously because they could not understand him. • They snubbed him; but snubs provoked nothing but smiles. They put mean little inconveniences in his path, like having coolies mislay his voluminous luggage; but his amiability was unchanging. As she gazed after him Kate wondered which would relieve her _ most thoroughly —to laugh, cry or fall into a thundering rage. He was the strangest mollycoddle she bad ever met; for his good looks wore not effeminate —simply his nose, his chin and his brows wore not strongly marked. He gave to her thro, dissatisfaction one finds in Canova’s marbles after having seen those of Michelangelo and Bodin, If only ho would snarl and growl sometimes —slam a door scrape his lounge back to the nook ho had first selected and oust the insuperable brewer who had preempted it! But nothing ever happened. He reminded her of a pariah dog—always eager to get. out of the way. to efface himself. The eternal cigarettes and the perennial Keats! ~ , AH the wav from Port Said; from Colombo to Kandy; Bombay to Ahmo<l -ibad; Jaipur to Delhi and Agra; Benares in Darjiling, down to Calcutta ; Ban goon to Mandalay; Singapore —always immaculate, from his canvas shoes to his white helmet. The dust scorned to pass on each ado of him and the rain never fell where ho walked. It. deeply puzzled her that she should always be waiting for him to fall down into some puddle, to strike tho centre of some dust-storm, or to bump against a waiter with a travful of soupdislips. Arthur M’olls M il mot boro a charmed life. She had met him at Shepheard s, in Cairo, at the Christmas ball. A brisk young captain in the artillery had introduced him. ‘‘Vernon? Are vou by any happy el in nee tho sister of Bob and Joe, of Yale?” 1 . That, had opened all doors to him. so far as Kate was concerned. Her aunt, who was chaperoning the little band' of nomads, was charmed. Mhlmot wa.s worth six million dollars. Ho was invited to finish the tour with them. They were twelve valiant pleaauresoekerv making the circle hnppy-go-hickily. stopping where thev pleased; going on when thev tired of this place or that, unhampered by personal conductors. It. was great fun. A careful lv chosen party, see ally and intimatelv known to each other, composed of eight women and four men ; an engaged couple, a single man named ('badwick, who had been Boh A ernon a room mate at Yale, and who made no secret of his regard for Kate. She understood Chadwick: ho was as simple as A-B-C. B ig. strong, an ex-roothaller, an amateur boxer—he went at love as if it were ns able a thing as the famous V-wedge. She would have been married to him months ago had it not Iveen for the fief, that, she was full of romance and objected to a lover who never forgot that he had once worn spiked shoes and had made doormats of his less vigorous opponents. Kate wanted a. little of D’Artngnan. David Copper field, John Budd, and TTeerv Esmond —an amalgamation as impossible to find as tlie fourth dimension.

Tt whs nnlv ivlii'ii the good ship Lud- | wl ir stonned at Sup/ for coal that the horror of the situation confronted the tcmrsts. Arthur "Wells Wilrnot was nnmher thirteen! Beimr furious bridge pin vers, the men prowled and vowed Hat someth in g had.lv rotten would han-rv>n-—a. mollveoddle and a hoodoo —for f'lrdwmk had not been backward in cxplaning "Wilrnot’a status at Yale, thnmdi they had not known each other personally. For nearly three months idler had waited for a wreck, a great loss of money, a sudden death; hut nothing at all had happened, if one omitted Fate’s loss of patience and the aennisition of an irritability that alarmed her aunt and sometimes real I v frightened Chadwick. He was a mollveoddle, this | person; for. though he never drank or gambled or flirted, he smoked Ihr-'e thousand six hundred and fifty cigarettes a year and read poetry to all who would listen. Back iu Bombay, the canto! had gone down with a. broken spine. Tin’s last straw had been added when she found him on the balcony of the hotel hay : it" his hands manicured and readin" aloud to the manicurist. Kate had not stopped to think that in diseovering a manicurist in Bombay the man li-d accomplished almost the impossible. Sometimes she doubted. Suppose beneath this a-wgra.vat.in" unruffled calm tln-re should be a rich vein of cynicism and contempt for the people round him —so rich a vein that he would submit to snubs and covert insults for the sake of ha vine a. Lan ah all by himself? T)>.'m She stiffened against the rail. What was it to her ? Why should she care? She knew that she hated him. Arthur returned with a cup of tea and a cooling ice. Ho offered them hot hj. * “Thanks!” Sho ate tho ieo with relish. “Will yon he man tine the tea?” “No.” She knew she was rude, hut she did net care. “May I drink it?” “Merciful Heavens, yes! I shouldn’t object, if you drank it out of the saucer.” Sho laughed with malice. “Indeed. I should like to see you do it.” H’> looked at her blankly. “Whv do you say that?” “Haven’t you any faults. Don’t you ever remember to V 1 human like the rest of ns? Why did you let that brewer out your lounge out from under the awning?” “Why. the poor devil weighs over two hundred! He’d melt away out there. Heat doesn’t bother me.” “Does the cold? Does anything ever bother you ?”—spitefully. “Well,” he answered as he pressed the slice of lemon into the bottom of the cup, “sometimes you do.” Then he looked up. For a mollycoddle ho had the straightest, most unwavering eves she had ever encountered. Sho hated herself as she set til ' dish on tho rail. He took out his cigarette ease, beautifully and expensively made in applegreen jade. “Will you do mo a favor?” “Another ioe?” “No. Throw' those cigarettes overboard.” Ho laughed and dumped the contents of the case into the sea. “Promise me you’ll never smoke another !” “I’m used to them.” It was the first protest he had over put into words within her hearing. “I gave up pipes and cigars five years ago. Cigarettes

rather rest a chap. I smoke only ten a day. That’s light enough.” So she hadi him in a corner at last! ‘You will not promise?” “M’ould it —please you?”—earnestly. “I am curious to learn whether you have will-power to do it,” she evaded. “AH right—for a year.” ‘‘No, no! Straight out-and-out—al-ways!” “May I go back to pipes and cigars?” he asked her. “Oh, yes; but no cigarettes.” Ho opened and closed the case ruefully. ‘ ‘Will you accept this as a little keepsake ? I’ve grown very fond of it, but if I have it about I’m likely to be tempted. Now I’M go down and throw over tho rest of the cigarettes.” When ho had gone she stared down at the wonderfully hollo wed-out green stone in her hand. And he really meant it! A queer little smile stirred her lips. That night, after dinner, Chadwick found her dreaming by the forward crossrail, watching tho star-powdered sky fall swiftly away from the bow or rise with tho suddenness and precision and theatricality of a stage curtain. “Kate,” he began, “you’ve nut me off month after month. M’hen are yon going to marry me?” “Never in this wide world, John! We grew up together; 1 know yon just as weH as I know Bob and Joe. At home you live throe houses away. I could no more marry you than I could Bob or Joe! You’re just as much to me as they arc —brother and sister. Besides, I don’t want to marry any one. I’d much prefer to be an old maid. I’m sorry if I hurt von, Chad; hut I’d hurt yon a good deal more if I married yon just because I’m sorry.” “Hurt me? Somehow or other, Kate, you’ve always been hurting me. M T liy, I’ve loved you since kindergarten days. Maybe you’d better wait a while—trip may have upset yon,” said the man, eager to catch at any straw. “Don’t give mo your answer now; I want yon to wait till we get home.” “No false hopes, Chad. I know my heart. I do not love yon in the way yon wish. And it would he a crime if 1 lot. you hope when T know there’s no chance in the world of my marrying yon. One gets over all kinds of hurts -—-even this one; and in a yenr or so you may ho glad that 1 didn’t take yon at your word.” “Pretty tough! All 1 canto on this trip for was because I thought 1 had a chance.” “I never gave you any reason to believe 90.” “Well, I thought women liked to play the game of being coy,” Chadwick made answer. “Not honest ones —and I’m honest, Chad.” Boor, big,.blundering buy, who didn’t know one poet from another; to whom Corot was a vegetable with tho “t” left oil'; who could not liavo told an Ispahan from a gunnysack; whose one talent lay in the histories for AllAmerican cloven, the halting averages of baseball stars, and the records of tho reigning luminaries of the squared circle! Impulsively she gave him her hand and he crushed it so that tho rings cut cruelly. “Oh! Not so hard, Chad! You seem to forgot how strong you are.” “Well, 1 guess I’ll go in and have a “Begs won t do you any good. “I’m going to ask for tho don’t-care kind.” Abruptly he left her and entered the smoke-room. She stood in tho light of tho smokeroom doorway for a moment, then turned to the rail again. And now tho rest of the trip would be spoiled. Why could they not leave her alone? She was young; she wanted to see life and the world; time enough later on to think of marriage, the humdrum. If Chad wanted to bo foolish —to drink and play bridge all night—it was his affair. She was sorry to have hind, him, hut ho just would bo blind; ? thousand times she had tried to open his eyes futiloly. And the young man on the Canton lounge saw her disappear into the companionway. The cigar ho had been smoking describ ’d a crimson are over the rail and vanished. To have sworn off like that for a girl who didn’t care shucks for him! Shucks! M’hat in the world had brought that typical Yankee word into his mind? 11. Arthur broke sugar into his demitasse and brushed his fingers. “I rather believe that when I get back to Baris I’ll write a novel.” "Keeper, he’s out again!” murmured Chadwick, wlio.se si3n.se of humor found its only expression in the latest taking phrases of vaudeville lingo and oomic-supplemenb slang. “Make it a love story!” suggested the engaged couple. The married men stoically took out their cigar cases, impatient to be off to the billiard room. “Piffle!” Chadwick pushed aside his empty cup. “A novel?” said Kate half scornfully, half teasingly. “M’hat do you know about life?” “1 know as much as most people--if not more.” The ever-recurring smile and the perennial twinkle in his eyes appeared as 'shir ripped off the scarlet band from the most expensive cigar to he found in Yokohama. “MHiab put that idea into your thinker? It takes something more than an Oxford degree to mako a good story-teller,” said Chadwick. ‘‘You’ll always resent my leaving Vale.” “What Yale man wouldn’t?” Chadwick had begun to hate M'ilmot. Ho did not reason why; ho only knew that it was in his heart, seething and boiling whenever the complacent young man opened Ids mouth. “All writers have to begin sometime,” interposed Mrs Arnold, Kate’s aunt. She understood the cause of (’•lundwiok’s antagonism far more readily than ho did. “Bure they do; but they have to have something to begin with.” Chadwick laughed boisterously ami lo’iesomoly; Kate frowned; and Arthur hit off tho cud of his cigar in a maimer which caused her eyes to widen. He was very nearly angry! “What do you know of life?” Kate reiterated, frankly curious. “You have never wanted a single luxury; you have never known obstacle or pain : and unless you dreadfully want something you cannot have —-unless vou know great sorrow and great joy-—life is a closed hook. Dreamers are only poets, not story-tellers.” “Isn’t poetry an expression of life?” “Yesterday it was, but it is not today. M’o move too swiftly; our affairs are too multifarious ” “Deep water, Kate!” warned her aunt. “Be careful or we’ll have to jnrnn in after you if you keep that up.” Kate laughed, hut there was a note of impatience in the sound. “At any rate, observations of life, the things that happen about us dailv. are the foundations of true story-tell-ing. For four months now Mr Wilinot has travelled with us —ho has never gone into the bazaars; in Canton he never left the hotel; in Macao he stayed at the hotel and 1 read D« Ba.nville.”

“Smells —smells —smells!” said Arthur. “And at Shanghai aud Peking ” “More smelts!” Everybody laughed. “Bother!” Kate was deeply in earnest. “M’hat do you know of poverty, strife, ambition?” “I wasn’t contemplating writing an. Oriental yarn or a problem novel. 1 don’t like the people in this part of the world. Aren’t there other subjects just as interesting?” “M ho’.s for the billiard room?” asked Chadwick, whom tiro discussion was beginning to boro. Mrs Arnold rose to go to her room and the party strolled out of the dining room. “Mil! you take a rickshaw ride?” whispered Arthur. “No thanks,” said Kate abruptly “The .ride in from Kioto has tired me. Go alono and to-morrow tell mo what you saw.” “I wish,” said Arthur ruefully, “that I could please everybody.” “In niercy’s name, please yourself for once!” advised Kate impatiently. •( wish I wo.ro a man!” "I don’t!” And for a wonder he did not smile. Indeed, ho gazed at her so frankly and earnestly that she was forced to look elsewhere. “Sometimes I am sorry 1 came along, for I’ve proved to ho only a nuisance. 1 wish you liked mo just a little.” “M’hat makes you think we don’t?’ she countered. She preferred to interpret his remark as impersonal. “I don’t care what the others think, but I do want your good opinion. It was very kind ot you to ask me along ; but I’m not a congenial traveller. 1 can’t help liking good clothes, clean streets, clean houses, clean food —and 1 don’t like whisky or cards.” “Who in the world wants you to „• Do you want the truth, Mr \\ ilrnot—tho real honest truth?” “From you, yes.” “M’cll, then, go out and break something!” He stared at her uncomprehondiiigl.v. “Fight for what you think is your own; don’t lot any one impose upon you; talk back; forget the women of your family and remember only the man. ’ ’ “ihul?” She nodded. “M’hy, everybody hated poor old dad-” “That might be; but everybody was afraid of him.” “And nobody in this wide, world i.s afraid of me. Is that what you mean? Again she nodded. He ran his lingers through his line blonde hair confusedly. Kate despised herself for wanting to <h, the same thing. “Perhaps 1 am hope- | less! I begin to see. Life with me has been a series of pushbuttons; 1 never had to do anything for myscll. 1 can see your point of view. Your two brothers were athcietic, always ! getting in and out of trouble, lootballing, boxing—and all that. Why, i don’t know a fishhook from a sinker! And all tho time you’ve been silently i comparing us! A namby-pamby! “No, not that. It is simply that you have boon smothered with the goou things of life. Make a niche lor yourself in the world—-do something! Write a novel if you think you can tie it. 'The world is a great arena; men are lighting in it; join them; take your affairs out of the hands ol youi lawyers and agents, and manage tneiu .>ourself. And above all ” She paused. She had no idea or lotting her thoughts go like this. All said and done he was only a slight acquaintance ol her two broflß'is, iweni\tour years of age —old enough to thins lor himself. Besides, they occupied totallv different spheres socially, ana who was she to dictate to Arthur Welis W ilrnot? His mother, his aunt and his grand mother were American celebrities in Europe, often mentioned in the conservative court journals; Jus great grand sire had been an English knight; and scarcely a .Sunday passed that there was not some story ol tho beautiful Alls Wihnot and a duke or a prince who wanted to marry her. As for Kate Vernon, she had her name in tho newspapers just once —the day her marc ran away in the park and threw her. “Well —aud above all?” he repeated. Was there anything more beautiful, mere desirable than she as she stood there, her eyes asparkle, a llush on he: checks, her lips as seal let as the How cl s of the pomsottias that bloom in Cairo? “Forget Oxford! Go home! iP.n i become one of those drifting, inert homeless tilings we call expatriates. She -.-itopped and stared at him. "You would not It'll mo all these things if you hated mo, would your “Hate you! What makes you think I hate you? There!” —holding out her hand. She snatched it away and Hew upstairs notwithstanding she had promised to join her aunt at bridge in the reading room. She could see in her mind’s eye the crook in Bob s lips and tho wrinkle that ran clown Joe s cheek when contempt stirred her brothers. As for Arthur Wells Mdlmot ho gazed after her until the flounce of her skirt went whisking round the banister. "By—Jove!” lie took from his coat pocket a tines letter the envelope of which was onefourth buried under stamps upon whose face one read: Tihertc —Egalito—Tiatemito! M’hat did ho know about the brotherhood of man? His mother never began her letters with My darling boy, or My dearest, or Mamma’s own. She wrote as she talked—directly, breathlessly : and if there chanced to lie any endearing forms they wore packed a wav in the heart or the letter. She hated sentiment written or spoken; a glance, a touch oi the hand—these meant far more to Arc you mad, Arthur? fho idea of your running away with total strangers in this fashion! Probably some designing minx after your money. Oh, they come from a very good middle-class family; but that’s all. Betimi to Paris as soon as ever boats and ti aims can bring you. \ou must ho hoio in May. I urn entertaining during the month. And there’s the Grand I nx. I want my handsome, distinguished boy with me. M’hen wo are together people can hardly believe I’m old enough tc ho your mother He read no farther. M’ith a frownrare enough on his brow —ho tore the letter into infinitesimal squares and with them snnwstormed the wastebasket by the side of the manager s counter. After his money! Middleclass ! “Shucks!” , Ho laughed and somehow the laughter struck deep, tingling his diaphragm and) setting loose in lus blood a sensation quite new. He repeated tho word as a child repeals something forbidden, solf-assortively. He was not aware of it, but there was something mere than sound in this vulgar Yankee ejaculation. Drifter, idler, expatriate! She was right and they were wrong. Somewhere, from out tho vast spaces. Old Man M’ilmot must have smiled ! He walked briskly toward the entrance, picking up on the way his mouse-gray Fedora and slapping it on his bond rakishly. She did not hate him! Outside he stood for a space on tho curb, debating, puffing and blowing smoko into tho air, and finding the cigar less bitter than tho one lie had smoked that noon. Finally ho heild up his hand. _ A dozen rickshaw boys came dashing

across tJio street, jabbering and chattering. The porter rescued Arthur from being torn to pieces and each piece deposited in a separate rickshaw. A sturdy Jap who spoko a Jittlo English was selected. “Where do you wish to go, sir?” asked the Swiss porter. “Tell the boy i want to sec the sights —theatres, fairs, and the like.” Tho porter leaned forward confidentially and 'whispered. “Lord, no!”-cried Arthur. “I’ll see all that in Tokio.” The porter singsonged to the rickshaw boy, who started off half a dozen times, only to bo called back and berated for his haste. At length his instructions wore complete, and a moment later the glowing paper lantern lobbed to and fro down tho side? street into tho town. Arthur leaned forward, his chin on the crook of his cane, vastly interested iti the bobbing lanterns of other rickshaws. Sometimes women in evening clothes passed and there was always that quick interchange of glance, that sparkle of eyes. Down the Honolio-dori into the Ben-!or,-don’—tho streets of the curios—lie was whirled into tho centre of an animated troe-and-fiower fair in the Basha-michi-dori, where he purchased, a beautiful dwarf pine in a cunning little glazed pot. To-morrow lie would give it to Kate. Kate! Ho had never dared to call her that when ho had been left alone with her. He laughed at the sign of Cock-eye Tom —Tailor; at the fnnnv Japanese hoys with their shaved polls and bristling topknots. And, oh! the yellow and crimson and rose of the giant labterns; and the twinkling stars above; the intermittent warm breaths from Hie shop braziers and the pleasant odor <T burning incense! Truly he had not nibbed elbows with life —and here it tnnmed about him. bristled, a riot of color, a fairyland! Down went tho thills. He nearly toppled out. AVhat now?” he cried. “Show-show! See move-um showshow!” gurgled tho coolie, taking a rag from his hrcechclniit and mopping Ins face. Moving pictures! Sure enough! So A.rib,nr. determined to enjoy himself in suite of his acquired dislike of crowds, climbed down from his seat and pushed in with the hurly-burly' —a clean, sweetsmelling one too. How closely mechanism lias drawn the far ends of the world together! He saw an Indian fight on tho plains; Henri do Guise, by the company from the Co medio Franeai.se: Coney Island: and surfbathing at Honolulu —variety enough for any man. Into the rickshaw again; and then the beauty and charm dwindled awav into sordid things—sailors’ haunts; narrow alleys, with hold-eyed women ogling from the windows; here and them a drunken white man; tin-pan inusic; discord Hanging in front of a three-storey building, flatiron in shape. like a wedge mi the road which flowed each side of it. swung a dingy glass la.nlern, upon which all might read: