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As they entered, a workman with a pot and ink-brush in his hand was surveying lettering he had just completed on a good-sized packing-case. "Here are the 'goods, Judson," announced the merchant. "All ready, sir," the workman responded, eyeing Jack and the detective curiously. "Did you substitute boards with knot-holes?" Mr. Brooke asked. "Yes, sir.
She was his poem of woman, a lyric delight, a three-dimensions of flesh and spirit delicious, a fate and a good fortune written, ere the first man and woman were, by the gods whose whim had been to make all men and women for sorrow and for joy. But his mother put into his hand the ink-brush and placed under it, on the table, the writing tablet. "Paint," said she, "the ideograph of TO MARRY."
And in my suspended hand I hold my fountain pen, and as I remember that other hands of me, in long gone ages, wielded ink-brush, and quill, and stylus, I also find thought-space in time to wonder if that missionary, when he was a little lad, ever trailed clouds of glory and glimpsed the brightness of old star-roving days.
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