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Updated: May 3, 2025
The fourth wall was all heavily curtained window. And turned toward it was a large chair with a mahogany reading-stand attached, on which a yellowish and folded copy of The Times, dated July 6, 1914, the day Timothy first failed to come down, as if in preparation for the War, seemed waiting for him still.
During the prayer and hymns a spontaneously born rumor that there would be something sensational in President Wood's announcements went through the student body. The president, as he gave out the hymns, did not look at the students, but sadly smoothed the neat green cloth on the reading-stand. His prayer, timid, sincere, was for guidance to comprehend the will of the Lord.
He then rose and taking the reading-stand from the floor carried it into a corner of the room near one of the windows, lifted the candle from it and returned to the empty fireplace before which he had been sitting.
How am I to put it any other way? Let me think now well of course I know perfectly well that it's not a piano, or a reading-stand, or a sofa that you want, any more than I do. We want the same thing, sweetheart." She smiled sadly. "Do we? I should have said the trouble is that we don't want the same thing, and never did." "I don't understand you." "Nor I you.
At the close of the song, Miss Cresswell advanced to the reading-stand. She assumed an oratorical tone. There was a note of pathos in all she said. "There came to Exeter Hall some ten months ago," she began, "the class whose early demise we are now making famous with these ceremonies. They were young then. They continued to remain young " "So young," came in a sad-voiced chorus from the singers.
She threw back her head and closed her eyes to shut out the stupidity, and the mockery, and the misery of that idea. "I don't want" she spoke slowly. Her voice dropped from its high petulant pitch, and rounded to its funeral-bell note "I don't want a piano, nor a reading-stand, nor a sofa. I simply want a place that I can call my own."
In the centre of the floor was an oak table a table made of sharp slabs of oak laid upon a frame that was evidently of ancient design, probably early German, a great, gold screen sheltered a high canonical chair with elaborate carvings, and on a reading-stand close by lay the manuscript of a Latin poem.
Behind was the black cave, masked with green thorn, so low that it was hard to believe that a man could enter it. In front was the fall of the cliffs and the vast but cloudy vision of the valley. On the small rock platform stood an old bronze lectern or reading-stand, groaning under a great German Bible.
The furniture of the room consisted of but three pieces an arm-chair, a small reading-stand supporting the candle, and a long kitchen table, supporting the body of the man.
Drawing a cushioned seat to this secluded nook, where no person passing casually through the room would be able to see me, I sat down, and feeling too indolent to get myself a reading-stand, I supported the volume I had taken up to read on my knees. It was entitled Conduct and Ceremonial, and the subject-matter was divided into short sections, each with an appropriate heading.
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