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"Then are her eyes the gutter's color. But Catherine's eyes are twin firmaments." And about them the acacias rustled lazily, and the air was sweet with the odors of growing things, and the world, drenched in moonlight, slumbered. Without was Paris, but old Jehan's garden-wall cloistered Paradise. "Has the world, think you, known lovers, long dead now, that were once as happy as we?"

Abraham Chown, the police inspector, first shook his head and prophesied speedy destruction of all these hopes; and then Gaffer Lezzard criticised still more forcibly. "All this big-mouthed talk's cracklin' of thorns under a potsherd," hesaid. "You an' him be just two childern playin' at shop in the gutter, an' the gutter's wheer you'll find yourselves 'fore you think to. What do the man knaw?

Brown stood balancing himself on the gutter's edge, pale, rapt, uttering incoherent prophecy concerning the advent of a car not yet visible anywhere in the immediate metropolitan vista. "Old man," began Smith with emotion, "I think you had better come very quietly somewhere with me. I I want to show you something pretty and nice." "Hark!" exclaimed Brown.

When he spoke, it was strange to hear the voice of the back-streets, the gutter's phrase, expressing that quiet assurance. "If it wasn't you," he said, "it wouldn't be nobody else. It's only you as can do it." He paused, with lips pursed in deliberation. "If you knowed what I know," he went on, "you'd see it wasn't right. I reckon you'll have to come too." "Eh?"

When a man sits down on a curb stone with his feet in the gutter to "study life" and imagines himself a philosopher, while he moralizes on the muddy feet that pass him, he would probably feel grieved if the strong hand of some clear-headed individual lifted him up out of the gutter's filth and he was informed that much depended upon one's view being from a level, not an incline.

I watched him from the level cover of a second-story porch as he scrambled up the shingles. I admire men who can climb high places and stand upright and unmoved at the gutter's edge. But their bravado forces on me unpleasantly how closely I am tied because of dizziness to Mother Earth's apron strings. These fellows who perch on scaffolds and flaunt themselves on steeple tops are frontiersmen.