Puslapio vaizdai

offer from our company, the man is ours. I Why should he not take it? Who is the man am the manager of the company."

that can say, 'I gave it him in pity for his “How can you subsidize a man by giving delusions '?" him his own? Will the legal aspect of Duns- “ He will take it, that 's what I say,” scoffed muir's claim affect its justice in his own eyes ?" Norrisson. “He will take the stock, too. He asked Philip.

knows the worth of money, and he knows the “ It does not now; but his light will grow. need of it. What shall follow remains to be Property that has no existence in law can't be seen. I am satisfied, remember, though I seem peddled about under the name of a water-right. to have backed down on a vital point. DunsI think he has had his misgivings that his claim muir is chief engineer; well and good. And was wearing pretty thin. Observe, he never my son will be his first assistant. How does consulted his lawyer till the other day, when that strike you ?" he knew he had to; he did n't want to be too It struck Philip in so many different ways at sure. It's the nature of dreams to look queer once that he could not choose instantly the by daylight. Dunsmuir's fifteen years' fight will best answer— the truest— to his scruples, his look very strange to him six months from now. doubts, and his deep, excited joy. However, it makes no difference to me; let him “May I ask, sir, if this is part of the 'deal'?" take our offer, or walk off with his pride and an was what he said. empty pocket."

Mr. Norrisson answered indirectly. “It is “What is it you propose to offer him, now ?” understood that you are to have the position.”

“ Make him chief engineer and give him a “Whether Dunsmuir wants me or not? I little stock."

should find it unpleasant to be foisted on my “And how will you put the offer of stock to chief.” a man who has no rights in the scheme ?" “You are not supposed to know it. I need

“We shall put it this way: Parties might not have told you; but it 's impossible to forehave got hold of that location who would have see what you will shy at next. We have angiven us more trouble than you have; who other meeting fixed for this afternoon,” Mr. would have forced us to build before we were Norrisson added, rising, and touching the bell

. ready. This is to pay you for keeping up the “We shall put in our final proposition as I right for us.”

have stated it. I want you there. I want Duns“ That is very clever," said Philip, who muir to see you before he's had time to take thought it infernally clever ; " but Dunsmuir a prejudice." will take it as a taunt. You can never com- “I must ask you to excuse me," said Philip, promise him through offering him a share in decidedly. his own scheme. You might as well try to • Why excuse you? It was for this I sent suborn an author, offering him a royalty on his for you.” book."

Philip, who coveted Dunsmuir's favor for rea“Yes, yes; I know the pride he has in his sons too delicate, too personal, and as yet too design, his responsibility, and all that. But his vague, to be spoken, had no resource but to plans went out of his hands in our first deal. bear his father's contempt for what must appear He will find, after a while, that he is being taken merely another instance of coxcombry belongcare of on this scheme, and that I am taking care ing to the schools. of him.”

• What the devil is it now? You are as mysPhilip rose from the table and walked to the terious as a woman!” open window, where the purest of morning But nothing would induce Philip to go near breezes drifted in from the fields of blossoming those embittered men in council, committed to alfalfa.

the side which he was not on. He entreated “Why does your company want to own its that his name be withheld for the present. Let engineer?” he asked.

Dunsmuir's affairs be settled first. I am the company here,” said Mr. Norris- “ It won't take half an hour to settle that,” son, disdaining the shelter of the collective said the man of business. “ I want to know if noun; and for the first time in his various ex- you will take that place; for your name will positions of the dispute between himself and come up whether you are there or not. You Dunsmuir he showed the bad blood he had will do as you please about that; the other always attributed to Dunsmuir alone.

matter I want settled." " I submit that it will never occur to Duns- “I will take it gladly, provided Dunsmuir muir that he is being “taken care of,” said be left free to discharge me as he would any Philip; and he triumphed in the thought. His other man's son, if my work should not suit.” sympathies were with the man of his own pro- “Very well," Mr. Norrisson assented, with fession. “The work is his by every right of dis- the smile of a patient man who is nearing the covery, of design, of fitness, and of sacrifice. limit of his pet virtue. “We will put it that



way then. You don't want to be taken care " You are in this scheme, gentlemen, for of,' either; is that it ?”

your money's worth; I am in it, now, for the Philip did not explain. His father was, on sole sake of my work. Is it likely you will the whole, more amused than displeased by his tamper with that? Your guarantees I have coyness. It was, as he understood it, partly nothing to do with. I will be bound by no youth's high conceit of itself, and partly the time-limit of your making in my deal with skittishness of a proud young novice in busi- powers that are beyond your cognizance." ness, unacquainted with the practical nature “I don't quite tumble to your talk of reof a 'deal. However, as they left the house venge," said Norrisson, apparently in reference together he felt called on to straighten the to some previous threat of Dunsmuir’s. “How, young man's views on one point.

if it's a fair question, would you propose to take “Foisted' is a good word,” said Mr. Nor- it? In the courts, for instance? Because I can risson,“ but it does n't apply to a straight de- tell you—” mand that my son, a graduate of the Polytech- “In the people's court of the electionsnic, and the very man for the place, should I could meet you there. Bear in mind, all have it. You understand ?”

that your farmers want to make head against I do,” smiled Philip; “and I take back the you is a leader-a man who knows something word. And, frankly, I know that I can do the and who has nothing to lose. I have heard a work; but I want the relation to be a pleasant word of buying their representatives; maybe one, and I don't want it to begin to-day in the those gentlemen, whose politics are in their midst of a discussion which may, or may not, pockets, may think to buy me?” take a happy turn. Give me time, and a fair Philip knockedtwice before his father shouted show of pleasing my chief, and I think we can “Come in!” The men were all on their feet; hit it off.”

Dunsmuir pacing the floor, his gaunt cheek“ There is sense in that; and it's your con- bones reddened, his blue eyes blazing, his graycern, the social part, not mine. The cañon will golden hair tumbled on his head as by a wind be your headquarters, and you don't want to of strife. He wheeled upon Philip, who, as no live there in a bees' bike. They ’re a set of one spoke to introduce him, was forced to come outlandish, prejudiced exiles, anyhow. It's all bluntly out with his errand: right; I sha'n't hurry you.”

"I have the pleasure to tell you, sir, that While Philip was dressing for dinner that your son is in town. He is at the office, askevening there came a summons from the tele- ing for you." phone. He hurried into his clothes, and went “My son ? What office? Who is this youngto the tube. The call was from the company's ster?” he demanded of the company generally, office: one of the young men wishing to know without taking his eyes from Philip's face. if Dunsmuir were in town, or if any of his peo- "My son. Your engineer, Dunsmuir, the ple were in. Philip could not say, and asked boy I was telling you about.” who wanted Dunsmuir.

Dunsmuir took no notice of Philip in either Answer came: “His son."

of the given characters. “ Where is his son ?”

“Is it a waif word you bring ?” he asked, “ Here. Came in to-night-engineers' team with a tremor in his deep-strung tones; “or from camp."

do you come from my son, himself ?” “What camp ?”

“ I bring you the message as it came by tele“ Fielding's — Lower Snake.”

phone from the company's office. He was “ Ask him to come up here."

there fifteen minutes ago, asking for his father. After an interval the reply was: “Can't do They said he was ill, and I took it on me to it. He's all broke up.”

have him brought to our house. He will be “Get a carriage and bring him, some of you, there before we can get there. Your team is I 'll find his father."

below." Philip rushed over to the stable where Duns- “Man, are you sure here is no mistake? I muir kept his team; the horses were being cannot bear to be jostled by such news if it be put to. The stableman said Dunsmuir's orders not the truth.” He spoke harshly, lapsing into were that his rig should be at the Transcon. by his Scotch accent, and Philip answered as to six o'clock. It was then ten minutes to six. a woman:

Philip jumped in beside the man, and they “Shall we not go and see ?" drove to the hotel. He was shown at once to Dunsmuir began to look about the room for Mr. Westerhall's rooms. The door of the par- his hat and coat. He was holding hard against lor, at the far end of a long corridor, stood ajar, the heart-shaking message, but there was a mist and a voice which he took to be Dunsmuir's before his eyes. Philip helped him to his things, was thundering. He could not avoid hearing and almost put them on him. He found a pleathe words :

sure in waiting upon him, and the omen was a good one, though he did not think of it at then, my bonny chiel ! I have been fighting the time. In silence the other men drew near, against you, I confess it; I wanted no manand shook Dunsmuir by the hand.

ager's son on the work. And here you come “ I have n't been able to tell you how I have with your coals of fire! I shall be in bonds if felt for you, Dunsmuir, in this business of your the mercies hold; there 's nothing slackens a son,” said Norrisson the father; and said Wes- man's war-grip like the thought, My God has terhall, who had a little fair-haired lad of his remembered me." own across the water:

Philip might have asked himself, had scruples “Our toast to-night shall be, 'Our boys; been in order, Would Dunsmuir have made God bless them !'"

him his messenger to the cañon that night had In the wagon, driving through the streets, he known how keen he was for the errand? A Dunsmuir spoke, charging himself that he must joy that was not all enthusiasm for the work get him a man to carry a message to his women- was rising in his heart: already he saw himself folk waiting in the cañon. “If this news be on the darkling road; he was entering the cañon true, they cannot hear it too soon,” he said. by starlight; he saw the lights in the waiting “I will be your man," said Philip.

house, and a girl with startled, soft gray eyes “ Will you so ? Let it be your first order, was thanking him as his news deserved.

(To be continued.)

Mary Hallock Foote.


JERE at life's silent, shadowy gate,

Faint in the darkness, blind and dumb,
O Soul, my promised comrade, come!
The morn breaks gladly in the east;
Hush! hark! the signs of solemn feast :
The softened footstep on the stair;
The happy smile, the chant, the prayer;
The dainty robes, the christening-bowl-
'T is well with Body and with Soul.
Why lingerest thou at dawn of life?
Seest not a world with pleasure rife?
Hear’st not the song and whir of bird ?
The joyous leaves to music stirred ?
Thou too shalt sing and float in light;
My Soul, thou shalt be happy — quite.
But yet so young, and such unrest ?
Thou must be glad, my glorious guest.
Here is the revel, here is mirth,
Here gayest melodies of earth;
Measures of joy in fullness spent ;
My Soul, thou canst but be content.
Is this a tear upon my hand ?
A tear ? I do not understand.
Ripples of laughter, and a moan?
Why sit we thus, apart, alone ?
Lift up thine eyes, O Soul, and sing !
He comes, our lover, and our king !
Feel how each pulse in rapture thrills !
Look, at our feet the red wine spills !
And he — he comes with step divine,
A spirit meet, O Soul, for thine.
Body and Soul's supremest bliss -
What, dost thou ask for more than this?

Stay, here are houses, lands, and gold;
Here, honor's hand; here, gains untold;
Drink thou the full cup to the lees;
Drink, Soul, and make thy bed in ease.
Thou art my prisoner; thou, my slave;
And thou shalt sip wherein I lave.
Nay? nay? Then there are broader fields,
Whose luring path a treasure yields ;
Thou shalt the universe explore,
Its heights of knowledge, depths of lore;
Shalt journey far o'er land and sea ;
And I, my Soul, wilt follow thee;
Wilt follow — follow- but I lag;
My heart grows faint, my footsteps flag.
And there are higher, holier things ?
Is this a taunt thy spirit flings?
What is it, Soul, that thou wouldst say?
Thou erst had time to fast and pray.
Give me one word, one loving sign,
For this spent life of yours and mine!
I held thee fast by sordid ties ?
I trailed thy garments, veiled thine eyes ?
Go on, I come: but once did wait,
O Soul, for thee, at morning's gate.
Canst thou not pause to give me breath ?
Perchance this shadow, Soul, is death.
I stumble, fall; it is the grave;
I am the prisoner; I the slave;
And thou, strange guest, for ay art free;
Forgive me, Soul; I could but be
The earth that soiled, the fleshly clod,
The weight that bound thee to the sod.
Dust unto dust! I hear the knell ;
And yet, O Soul, I loved thee well !

Emma Huntington Nason.


SHALL never forget two aphorisms oλόγος είναι ο κασμάς,” and “Σκάψε έως το στερεό,

given me by an old grave-digger the first meaning, “The best archæologist is the
in Greece. He was one of a class spade,"and the second,“Go down to the native
that corresponds very much to the soil."
old-fashioned poacher in Eng-

I believe it was chiefly owing to my remem. land and on the Continent, in bering these two aphorisms, and acting upon

whom the illegitimate pursuit is them, that I succeeded in discovering what we not only followed for gain, but has become an may now call the Tomb of Aristotle. Though exciting sport, a wild instinct with a touch of the a considerable amount of archæological study romance that hovered round the gentleman and reasoning, a careful working through of of the road and the bandit. He had followed all the ancient and modern authorities on topoghis favorite

pursuit in all parts of Attica, in Boeo- raphy, a collection of all the passages in antia, and in Eubea, and had sold many a beauti- cient authors dealing with the works of art ful object of ancient art and craft to the Athenian which once existed in a certain district, and dealer, which objects, no doubt, are now orna- innumerable other considerations of a more menting some museum of a great European theoretical nature, must precede the choice of metropolis. As such excavation is forbidden any site of excavation, and must continually be by law, and as the exportation of all objects of present in the mind of the excavator, it is, after antiquity found in Greece is also forbidden, he all, the act of digging itself, and the unbiased had twice suffered confinement in prison for a examination of what the spade and pick may considerable period; and this in spite of all his turn up, upon which the archæologist must shrewdness and caution, for he did nearly all his chiefly rely. And if the naturalist in examindigging at night. He had now turned his hand ing any object in nature, or any member of an to honest work, and had become a workman organic body, whether with the naked eye or in our corps of excavation, in both Boeotia and under the microscope, must guard against the Eubea. Though he was invaluable in cau- "personal equation," the archæologist must be tiously clearing away the soil that had been equally careful not to allow his preconceptions massed in a tomb, and thus extracting without and his own desires to warp his vision and exa breakage a delicate vase, or a piece of gold- amination of the objects which his excavations work, or a bronze mirror, it was just as well lay bare. The second advice is almost still more always to keep a strict watch over his every important. He must never be satisfied with movement; for, having extracted securely from what he has found, nor cease from working its hiding-place in the earth some valuable ob- when he has not found anything, until he has ject of antiquity, he might also return it to reached the virgin, the unworked, soil. It resome hiding-place of which we knew not, which quires considerable experience to distinguish would be even more secure than was the ac- between worked and unworked soil, and it is cumulated soil, so far as any chance of our get- important that every archæologist should inting it again was concerned. But I shall always form himself of this difference, and practise the be grateful to him for the two epigrams which art of distinguishing between them with eye he gave me one day, and which are, in a way, and hand. When there are small fragments fundamental and most important lessons for of pottery or building-material to be found any archæologist who intends to excavate. mixed in the earth, it is plain sailing; but when

I was maintaining to some colleagues that these indexes are wanting, it becomes much there was sure to be a wall under a certain more difficult, for the characteristics of virgin configuration of the soil, to which opinion I soil vary with the actual nature of the earth in was led by a series of arguments archæologi- different parts, and the workmen are often more cal and practical, and to strengthen my own easily discouraged through unsuccess than is the position I appealed to old Barba Spiro for a morally and intellectually superior archæoloconfirmation of my view. He looked at the gist, and are prone to cryout, “Štepeó!” (“Virgin spot for a long time; then gave a side glance soil!”) long before they have really reached it. at me; then scratched his head, and, fixing his However full of moments of thrilling exeyes on one button of my waistcoat, he enun- citement-moments that in their intensity have ciated two short phrases: “Oxurr,tepos apyar no equal in any other department of scientific

1 The pictures in this article are made from photo. work or of sport — the practice of excavation graphs taken by Mr. and Mrs. Gordon Oswald. may be, there are days and even weeks of

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discouraging ill success, which sorely try the one time had been Greek vice-consul at some patience of even the most sanguine and perse- Italian port. He spoke Italian fairly well. He vering. Thus perseverance is one of the quali- had proved hospitable to Mr. Fossum, and was ties most needed by him who would dig for very affable and effusive in his greeting to us. I antiquities. But often there may be a call upon at once asked for the demarch, or mayor, of the more active qualities, physical and intellectual, town, and was told that I should presently be than perseverance, in order to withstand the taken to his house. I knew it was an important serious hardships to which excavation in some matter at once to gain the friendly coöperation parts of Greece must necessarily expose the dig- and assistance of this the chief functionary in ger. The excavations of the American School the district. Mr. Fossum, aided by his host, had of Archäology of Athens at Eretria in Eubea already explored all the resources of the town, during the months of February and March of and had found them worse than scanty. Unlike last year, one of the results of which was the all other villages, even in the remotest parts of discovery of this interesting tomb, certainly Greece, it appeared impossible to find any peaswere accompanied with severe hardships to ant or inhabitant who for good pay would miall who took part in them. My colleague, Pro- grate to some kinsman's house, or allow himfessor Richardson, who joined me in the second self to be relegated to the ground-floor of his visit, during which we suffered most,-owing hut, leaving to us the upper room, which is to the unusual inclemency of the weather, – approached by wooden steps from without, to assured us that during his winter campaign clean and to furnish with our camp-beds. The in our own civil war he had not encountered reason for this was that there were but few such discomfort.

thrifty and working inhabitants, and most of My first trip to Eretria, leaving Athens on the houses had been deserted. We looked at February 1, was comparatively an easy one. It two of these deserted houses, but with the rain consisted of a two-days' ride across Attica, till that had fallen, with no window-panes, with a we reached the harbor of the ancient Oropos, broken-down fireplace and a rotting floor, they on the narrow strait, called Euripus, which sep- presented so miserable an aspect, and looked arates Eubea from the mainland, and imme- so unwholesome, that we could not think of diately opposite Eretria. Our sail across the making either of them our headquarters. We Euripus, which ought to have occupied but an were not much comforted when we learned an hour and a quarter, took six hours, during that the cause of this desertion was the unwhich we had to rely upon the clumsy rowing wholesomeness of this fever district. of the fishermen who owned the heavy boat It was one of the great, but equally unpracwhich carried us across. Dusk was just begin- ticable ideas of the late King Otho of Greece ning to set in, and with it came rain, as we to transplant to this site of the ancient Eretria landed in the picturesque harbor of the small the brave inhabitants of the island of Psara deserted village which now occupies the site of (when, after the war of independence, this the proud city of Eretria, at one time the rival Greek island was not added to the Hellenic of Athens in prosperity and power. Situated on kingdom), granting to each a large piece of this narrow strip of sea, which looks like an in- land, and laying out a city by the ancient harland lake, this plain, once so fertile, is bounded bor. In keeping with his generous though vion the west by a range of mountains, beautiful sionary character, the king undertook the work in outline, while across the strait rise the clas- on a large scale. Engineers were called in, and sical hills and mountains of Attica and Bæotia, laid out the city with broad streets and open with Parnassos looming dimly in the far dis- squares, which, even at present, though there tance. This spot is at all times one of the most are only ruined houses and but few inhabitants, strikingly beautiful in Europe. Yet even the bear the names of University street, Marine surpassing beauty of the site could not dis- Square, etc. He even proceeded to build there pel the disappointment and annoyance which a large nautical school, which was meant to rear gained on us as we proceeded to make ar- future mariners and admirals, and which now, rangements for a prolonged stay.

without a roof, and with crumbling walls, stares Mr. Fossum of Johns Hopkins University, with tragic irony at the deserted houses, a monBaltimore, a student of the School, who labored ument of noble quixotism. The energetic and with enthusiasm and skill during the whole pe- vigorous members of this new Psara soon left, riod of the excavation, had preceded us by a day, and are scattered over Greece and in distant and was at the harbor to meet us. Hewasaccom- parts of the globe, and have, many of them, panied by a black-bearded man of western Eu- amassed great wealth, retaining considerable ropean appearance, who wore a gray ulster and pride in the patriotic traditions of their Psara shooting-cap. At first sight he looked more iot ancestors. The few hundred that have relike an Italian than like a Greek. I soon found mained, chiefly women and children and old that he was thoroughly Europeanized, and at men, are unthrifty in character, with health

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