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She glanced at the heading, then she crumpled the newspaper into a ball and flung it to the floor. While Halsey, looking stricken and white, was trying to smooth it out and read it, Gertrude had dropped her head on the table and was sobbing stormily. I have the clipping somewhere, but just now I can remember only the essentials.
Not long after our visit to the Observatory, the Young Astronomer put a package into my hands, a manuscript, evidently, which he said he would like to have me glance over. I found something in it which interested me, and told him the next day that I should like to read it with some care.
It didn't read like the Socialism he used to preach, it had the ring of religion. He had called it religion.
He was so much a man like us that He kept the glory that was set before Him as a motive for enduring the cross." I knelt down. Nervousness suddenly possessed me, and my voice trembled, as I read the printed words: "Father, give me thy blessing, for I have sinned." Then nervousness left me. The scene became very calm. It seemed to be taking place somewhere out of the world.
And later, as she read aloud to him from "The Princess," he chanced to notice the stain of the cherries on her lips. For the moment her divinity was shattered. She was clay, after all, mere clay, subject to the common law of clay as his clay was subject, or anybody's clay. Her lips were flesh like his, and cherries dyed them as cherries dyed his.
If you will come some day to my barracks, I will act as doorkeeper, if it seems good to you; but on that occasion I will resign to no, other the pleasure of accompanying you in the 'voyage a Cythre'. The pretty woman did not read the note aloud; neither did she allow the givers of forfeits to remain in ignorance that she had received a visit from the First Consul.
When we read this poem, the first question that comes to us is "What was the 'good news from Ghent?" But we find on looking up the matter that the whole incident is a fanciful one; Browning simply imagined a very dramatic situation, and then wrote this stirring poem about it. And surely he has made it all seem very real to us.
Ken lifted the crisp new sheet of music and stared at it, and then read aloud the words on the cover. "Fairy Music," it said and his name was there, and the Maestro's, and "net price, 60c" "like a real one," indeed. And within were flights of printed notes, and the words of the "Toad Pome" in cold black and white. And above them, in small italics, "Dedicated to Kirkleigh Sturgis."
This I handed to her to read, and although she said no word when she handed it back, I could see that she was much moved. "My pen runs not so fast as it did. I will therefore now conclude.
"In my next letter I will tell you of our friend's engagement and marriage. Your loving cousin, Millie." The hearers waited with eagerness for the next Friday evening, as they enjoyed so much hearing those interesting letters. The next Mr Jacobs read was this: "Hulda is only fifteen years of age, and has already been married six months.
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