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Updated: June 9, 2025
I sat down beside him, and we talked commonplaces for a while, Farrar's being almost monosyllabic, while now and again feminine voices and feminine laughter reached our ears from the far end of the porch. They seemed to go through Farrar like a knife, and he smoked furiously, his lips tightly compressed the while. I had a dozen conjectures, none of which I dared voice. So I waited in patience.
By all that's splendid, there they are!" and Dol Farrar's joy-whoop rang through the English oaken hall with scarcely less vehemence than it had rung in former days through the dim aisles of the Maine forests. A sound of spinning cab-wheels abruptly stopping, a noise of men's feet on the steps outside, and the hall-door was flung wide by two pairs of welcoming hands. "Cyrus! Royal!
He waved his hand invitingly toward the bicycle. "You can go!" he said. To Miss Farrar's indignation Lathrop, instead of accepting his freedom, remained motionless. "I can't!" he said. "I'm on post. My captain ordered me to stay in front of this house until I was relieved." Miss Farrar, amazed at such duplicity, exclaimed aloud: "He is not on post!" she protested. "He's a scout!
By the bye, is your laziness making an apology for not finishing "Scenes in Judea "? Hear a compliment of my mother's for your encouragement. I am delighted to hear of Mr. Farrar's being better. Give my love to them, and tell him I know of nothing in the world I could near with more pleasure than of his improvement. What a beautiful, gentle, precious spirit he is!
Now and then he dined out; once he went to the opera with the O'Haras; but it nearly did for him, for they sang "Madame Butterfly," and Farrar's matchless voice and acting tore him to shreds. Only the happy can endure such tragedy.
However terrible the crisis, however crowded every other inch of space in the House of Commons may be, though the ungodliest member may be in his place listening to the rich resonance of Archdeacon Farrar's voice, the Treasury Bench is always empty.
In his excitement he did not notice that the girl was not listening, that she was very pale, that she was breathing quickly, and trembling. "I'll go tell them," he added, "that the other one they want is up here." Miss Farrar's strength instantly returned. With a look of terror at the now groaning figure on the floor, she sprang toward Lathrop, with both hands clutching him by his sleeves.
Farrar's nod in itself was a repulsion, and once you had seen it you mentally scored him from the list of your possible friends. Besides this freezing exterior he possessed a cutting and cynical tongue, and had but little confidence in the human race.
Cannon Farrar's "Life of Christ" is a very great help to the realization of the New Testament scenes, as is also Tissot's "Pictorial Life of Christ." In short every art should be made to deepen and clarify the conceptions roused by the study of the Bible.
I was indebted to Farrar for Mr. Cooke's acquaintance, and this obligation I have since in vain endeavored to repay. Farrar's profession was forestry: a graduate of an eastern college, he had gone abroad to study, and had roughed it with the skilled woodsmen of the Black Forest. Mr.
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