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 you in London that accidents sometimes happened. And you are not in danger? The police do not suspect you?"

"What the devil"

"Hush!"

She held up a slim olive hand with one big emerald on the little finger.

"You are right; I should not have spoken so in a public place. We will not speak of the matter again, but our troubles are ended; our life together will be wonderfulwonderful!"

Derek laughed suddenlya harsh, disagreeable laugh.

"So the rats come back, do they? Two million makes a differenceof course it does. I ought to have known that." He laughed again. "You will help me to spend that two million, won’t you, Mirelle? You know how, no woman better." He laughed again.

"Hush!" cried the dancer. "What is the matter with you. Dereek? Seepeople are turning to stare at you."

"Me? I will tell you what is the matter. I have finished with you, Mirelie. Do you hear? Finished!"

Mirelle did not take it as he expected her to do. She looked at him for a minute or two, and then she smiled softly.

"But what a child! You are angryyou are sore, and all because I am practical. Did I not always tell you that I adored you?"

She leaned forward.

"But I know you, Dereek. Look at mesee, it is Mirelle who speaks to you. You cannot live without her, you know it. I loved you before, I will love you a


text:
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 hundred times more now. I will make life wonderful for you—but wonderful. There is no one like Mirelle."

Her eyes burned into his. She saw him grow pale and draw in his breath, and she smiled to herself contentedly. She knew her own magic and power over men.

"That is settled," she said softly, and gave a little laugh. "And now, Dereek, will you give me lunch?"

"No."

He drew in his breath sharply and rose to his feet.

"I am sorry, but I told you—I have got an engagement."

"You are lunching with some one else? Bah! I don't believe it."

"I am lunching with that lady over there."

He crossed abruptly to where a lady in white had just come up the steps. He addressed her a little breathlessly.

"Miss Grey, will you—will you have lunch with me? You met me at Lady Tamplin's, if you remember."

Katherine looked at him for a minute or two with those thoughtful grey eyes that said so much.

"Thank you," she said, after a moment's pause; "I should like to very much."

license: Creative Commons - Attribution Share-Alike - https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/


text: The Mystery of the Blue Train/Chapter 18


text:
Page:Hudibras - Volume 2 (Butler, Nash, Bohn; 1859).djvu/309

RV 447 (ANSWER.])


text:
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 the prefect with Ben Khia (or Ben Tobia) a man of (war?); but despatch thou him to thy servant ”

57 B.—The salutation as usual mentions Baalath of Gebal. “Why shall the King my Lord send to me? The best indeed trembles, of those who watch for him against my foes, and of my freemen. What shall defend me if the King will not defend his servant? if the King will order for us chiefs of the Land of Egypt, and of the Land of Nubia, and horses, by the hand of this my chief as I hope, and preservation for the servants of the King my Lord. If none at all to me to march horses  my land is miserable. By my soul’s life! if the King cared at heart for the life of his servant, and of his chief city, he would have sent a garrison, and they had guarded thy city and thy servant. That the King shall know of our lands; and Egyptian soldiers (bitati) shall be ordered; and to save all that live in his land, therefore it is spoken as a message to the King (with thy messengers?) As to the  of this dispute of Khaia with the city of Simyra, that they should send us without delay thirteen talents (or pieces of gold): I gave the proclamation. The men of blood are named in the letter to the city of Simyra. It avails not. Ask Khaia as to the letter of our previous dispute with the city of Simyra—to satisfy the King, and to give security to the King, they are sending again, and ”

24 B.M This is broken at the top.

“And King my Lord, soldiers are moving to the city of Gebal, and behold the city Durubli has sent forth soldiers to war to the city Simyra. If the heart of the King my Lord is toward the city of Durubli my Lord will also order many soldiers, thirty chariots and an hundred chief men of your land; and you will halt at the city Durubli, my Lord’s city. If the lands are to be defended, the King will order the departure of Egyptian soldiers (bitati) to the city of Gebal, and (I doubt not?) you will march to us). And I to slay him, and  behold the King my Lord  faith-


text:
Page:Hudibras - Volume 2 (Butler, Nash, Bohn; 1859).djvu/310

RV 448 (ANSWER.])


text:
Page:The story of the flute (IA storyofflute1914fitz).djvu/278

 Another curious flute story is current in Greece:A boy to whom some superhuman being has given a flute, goes with it to the public, where a quantity of crockery is for sale. He begins to play, whereupon all the pots, jugs, and basins begin to fly about in the air and are all broken to pieces. He also compels a priest to dance among thorns, which hurt his feet terribly. (Griechische und Albanïsche Märchen.)

A Hindu fairy tale relates how Seventee Bai, the daughter of a Rajah, dresses herself up as a boy and starts out in search of adventures. She meets Hera, an enchantress, who, supposing her to be a man, falls desperately in love with her. Seventee alleges that before marrying Hera she must perform an important mission. The enchantress gives her a little golden flute, telling her whenever she is in need of assistance to go into the forest and play it, promising that before the sound ceases she (Hera) will appear. The maid puts the flute in the folds of her dress and whenever she is in a difficulty she plays on it, whereupon Hera always appears, swinging in a silver tree. (Frere, Old Deccan Days.)

The legend of the Invisible Flute-player is current amongst the peasants of several parts of Germany. He usually haunts a particular house, playing sometimes in one room, sometimes in another. In some versions he visits a whole district. Whenever the inhabitants name or whistle a few bars of a certain tune, it is at once played by the invisible flautist. When the milkmaid in the dairy takes an apple in her


text:
Page:Egyptian Literature (1901).djvu/247

 ful; and they have warred with the men Kau Paur (Egyptian magnates) of the King. Lo! they have slain Biari the Paur (magnate) of the King, and he has given gifts to my and they are helping. And none are servants of the King. And evil in our eyes behold is this. I am spoiled, and I fear lest no wish of the faithful chief be granted to him. Lo! you will make my kindred to be afflicted. The King shall arm the land thy soldiers great and small, all of them; and Pakhamnata did not listen to me and they do a deed that  and thou shalt tell him this, that he shall set free the city of Simyra; and (the King) will listen to the message of his servant, and shall (send) Egyptian soldiers. Behold he will say to the King that the Egyptian soldiers have no corn or food to eat, all the enemies have cut off from the midst of the cities of the King my Lord the food and the corn and (I) have raised soldiers gathering (in) the city of Gebal there is not  you shall send to us and to march to it, and I have stopped  and not one of the lands of the Canaanites helps Yankhamu though he is for the King.”

58 B.—This is a large and important tablet, but much broken; it begins with a short salutation, and then says at once, “I am laid low.” It refers to the loss of the city Abur, and mentions the names of Aziru and Abdasherah, and says there is no garrison. The enemy are marching on to the capital. He says: “I sent to the palace (or capital of Egypt) for soldiers and you gave me no soldiers.” “They have burned the city Abur, and have made an end in the sight of Khamu my son.” “The man of sin Aziru has marched he has remained in the midst  I have despatched my son to the palace more than three months (ago) who has not appeared before the King. Thus (says) my chief of the city of Takhida —they are reaching him: of what use are the fortifications to the men left therein?” “The chief who came


text:
Index talk:Journal of the Optical Society of America, volume 30, number 12.pdf

Red or Bold links
I am unable to find a way to link to a table or figure on the same page that plays well within page namespace. They are either bold or red. The red links try to find Index:Journal of the Optical Society of America, volume 30, number 12.pdf/#fig5 and the embolded links don't look right. My opinion is that both suck. A preference from a reader of the page namespace would be appreciated.--RaboKarbakian (talk) 15:08, 13 February 2024 (UTC)


text:
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 out of the lands of Egypt to inform, whom you announced us on account of Aziru formerly, I shall send to the King. You will not have heard this message as to the city Abur. The dogs are wasting, as is said, do you not mark the news? If the King had thought of his servant, and had given me soldiers ” The next passages are much damaged, but refer to the same general subject of complaint. The next intelligible sentence is: “The people have been enraged expecting that the King my Lord would give me for my chief city corn for the food of the people of the strongholds.” He then protests his good faith, and says finally: “And my sons are servants of the King, and our expectation is from the King The city is perishing, my Lord has pronounced our death ”

77 B.—After a short salutation: “Let the King hear the news of his faithful servant. It is ill with me: mightily fighting, the sons of Abdasherah have striven in the land of the Amorites. They had subdued all the land of the city of Simyra, and they have wrecked the city Irkata (Arkah) for its ruler. And now they are coming out of the city of Simyra, and it is ill for the ruler (who is) in face of the foes who come out.” The tablet is here broken, but refers to Gebal and to the rulers Zimridi and Yapaaddu. The writer hopes for the arrival of troops. “Egyptian soldiers; and the Sun-King will protect me. Friendly men have been (shut up?) in the midst of his land. Moreover, the King my Lord shall hear the message of his servant, and deliver the garrison of Simyra and of Irkata: for all the garrison have out of the city Simyra and  Sun-God Lord of the lands will order for me also twenty (companies?—tapal) of horse, and, as I trust, to the city of Simyra (to defend her) you will speed (a division?) instructing the garrisons to be strong and zealous, and to encourage the chiefs in the midst of the city. If also you grant us no Egyptian soldiers no city in the plains will be zealous for thee. But the chain of the Egyptian soldiers has quitted all the lands—they have disappeared to the King.”

14 B. M.—“Ribadda speaks to his Lord the King of many lands the Great King. Baalath of Gebal has given power to


text: Page:The Decline of the West.pdf/23

title: Page:The Decline of the West.pdf/23


text:
Page:Egyptian Literature (1901).djvu/249

 the King my Lord: at the feet of my Lord, my Sun, seven times seven times I bow. Why wilt not thou utter for us a message to me? And (now) know the demand which my chief is despatched to make in presence of the King my Lord; and his division of horse has marched, but the man has delayed marching—its chief—as the letters to the King were not given to the hand of my chief as to what has been said  of your land, is it not needful that the allies of the Paka should march to the men of blood; have not all the lands been grieved? It will be necessary for the allies, but they come not being slow. Moreover I sent for men of garrison and for horses, but you care not for us (even) to return us a message for me. And I am destroyed by Abdasherah like Yapaaddu and Zimridi—and they are fugitives. Moreover, the revolt of the city of Simyra and of the city Saarti continues against him. We remain under the hand of Yankhamu; and he gives us corn for my eating. We two guard the King’s city for him, and he collects for the King, and orders my chief, appointing chiefs to assist for me, fulfilling the decree which thou hast thyself appointed. We have trusted in the King. And two chiefs of the city have been despatched to be sent, having come down bound from the camp of Yankhamu. Moreover, as to this assistance to Yankhamu, Ribadda is in your hands, and all that is done for him (is) before you; it is not for me to punish thy soldiers. My superior is over me. And I will send to him if you do not speak about this, or he gives up the city, or I depart. Moreover, if you do not utter for us a message for me, both the city will be surrendered, and I shall go away with the men who support me. And learn that our corn also is failing, and Milcuru has measured the corn—measure of Baalath very much ”

89 B.—This is much broken. After the usual salutation he says that Abdasherah has fought strongly, and has seized cities belonging to Gebal; that news has reached the city as to what has befallen the city Ammia (Amyun) from the men of blood. A certain Berber chief is mentioned. He speaks of “two months,” apparently as the limit of time in which he ex-


text:
Page:John Banks Wilson - Maneuver and Firepower (1998).djvu/310

288 (Office of the Adjutant General, Publications Branch) 320 (5 Jun 56) DCSOPS, Division General file, DAMH-HSO.

$17$ Ltr, Garrison H, Davidson to Willard G, Wyman, 21 Feb 56, CGSC Library.

$18$ Moenk, Large-Scale Army Maneuvers, p. 212; Transcript of Address by General Maxwell D. Taylor, Chief of Staff, United States Army, Before the Army School Commandants, Room 2E-715A, The Pentagon, Washington, D.C., Thursday, 28 Feb 57, CS 322 (1 Feb 57), RG 319, NARA.

$19$ Ltr, G–3 to CG, CONARC, 17 Nov 54, sub: Organization of the Army During the Period FY 1960–1970, RG 319, NARA; Midgley, Deadly Illusions, pp. 58–59.

$20$ Ltr, CONARC to TAG and other addresses, 28 Oct 55, sub: PENTANA Army (U), ATSWD (Combat Developments)-G–322/4 (Army) (28 Oct 55), 322/4 (Army), RG 319, NARA.

$21$ Ltr, John E. Dahlquist to Maxwell D. Taylor, 12 Dec 55, 322/19/Army 6–10 Aug 56, RG 319, NARA.

$22$ Taylor, Swords and Plowshares, pp. 152–53: John M. Taylor, General Maxwell Taylor: The Sword and the Pen (New York: Doubleday, 1989), pp. 198–99; Ltr, Maxwell D. Taylor to CG, CONARC, sub: Army Organization, 1 Jun 56, Division General file, DAMH-HSO.

$23$ Ltr, CofS to CG, CONARC, sub: Reorganization of the Airborne Division and the Development of Special Airborne Reconnaissance Units, 20 Sep 55, RG 319, NARA.

$24$
Ltr, CONARC to CofS, 15 Dee 55, sub: Reorganization of the Airborne Division (S), ATSWD 322/31 (Div) (15 Dec 55), 101st Abn Div file, DAMH-HSO. During the planning for the pentomic reorganization the Army returned to use troop and squadron for cavalry reconnaissance units.

$25$
Ltr, DCofS for Military Operations to CG, CONARC, 20 Feb 56, sub: Reorganization of the Airborne Division, OPS OT DC 2, 101st Abn Div file, DAMH-HSO.

$26$
TOE 57T, ROTAD, Airborne Division, 1956; CONARC, "Summary of Major Events and Problems, 1956," vol. 1, Doctrine and Requirements Division, G3 Section, 1 Jan–30 Jun 56, Reorganization and Test of the Airborne Division (Project ROTAD), pp. 1–4, DAMH-HSR.

$27$
Taylor coined the Madison Avenue term "pentomic" to describe units organized with pentagonal structures and atomic capabilities. See Taylor, Swords and Plowshares, p. 171.

$28$
DOD News Release No. 1205–55, 14 Dec 55, Ltr, TAG to CG, Third Army, 4 Jun 56, sub: Reorganization of the 101st Airborne Division, AGAO-O (M) 322 (23 May 56) DCSPER, and Wilber Brucker, Address before AMVETS National Convention, 1 Sep 56, all 101st Abn Div file, DAMH-HSO; "Run Down on the 101," Army 7 (Oct 1956); 51–53.

$29$
CONARC, "Summary of Major Events and Problems, 1 Jul 56–30 Jun 57," vol. 1, ch. 2, pp. 1–5.

$30$
Ibid. p. 6–12.

$31$
Ibid.

$32$
Ibid., p. 13; CONARC, "Summary of Major Events and Problems, 1 Jul 57–30 Jun 58," vol. 3, Organization and Equipment Division, pp. 1–4, DAMH-HSR; TOE 57D, Airborne Division, 1958; Ltr, TAG to CG, Third Army, 19 Nov 58, sub: Reorganization of the 82nd and 101st Airborne Divisions, AGAO-O (M) 322 (20 Oct 58) DCSPER, 10st Abn Div file, DAMH-HSO; "The Army's Month," Army 8 (Apr 1958); 20.

$33$
Ltr, CofS to CONARC, 23 Aug 56, sub: Reorganization of Current Infantry Division, Division General file, DAMH-HSO.

$34$
Ltr, CONARC to DCofS for Military Operations and other addresses, 15 Oct 56, sub: Reorganization of Current Infantry Division, ATTNG-D&R 322/53 (Div) (15 Oct 56), and Ltr, CG, CONARC, to CoS, 21 Dec 56, sub: Basic Doctrinal Guidance in Connection with New (ROCID) Division Organization, ATCG (CG, CONARC), both Division General file, DAMH-HSO.

$35$
Taylor's address, 28 Feb 57; CONARC, "Major Events and Problems, 1 Jul 56–30 Jun 57," vol, 1, Doctrine and Requirements Division, G3 Section, 1 Jan–30 Jun 57, pp. 20–23.

$36$
CONARC, "Major Events and Problems, 1 Jul 56–30 Jun 57," vol. 3, Organization and Equipment, G3 Section, pp. 3–7; TOE 17T ROCAD, Armored Division, 1956.

$37$
Taylor's address, 28 Feb 57.

$38$
Taylor, Swords and Plowshares, p, 171; Glenn Hawkins, "United States Force Structure


text:
Page:Memoirs on the coleoptera (IA memoirsoncoleopt01case).pdf/61

Rh {|style="font-size:90%" cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0
 * Atheta (Micrearota) tincta n. sp.—Moderately stout and convex, the coloration nearly as in the preceding, shining, the reticulation feeble, the punctures very fine, sparse, notably closer and asperulate on the elytra; head as long as wide, the parallel sides evenly and broadly rounded, the eyes rather small, not prominent and anterior, the carinæ wholly obsolete; antennæ unusually long, about half as long as the body, moderately stout and only very gradually incrassate, the outer joints evidently wider than long though much less transverse than in the other species, the last large, stout, pointed, fully as long as the two preceding, the second and third alike, unusually elongate, the latter but very slightly the shorter; prothorax nearly as in sana but relatively a little smaller and shorter, much wider than the head; elytra short and strongly transverse, the suture only just visibly longer than the prothorax; abdomen rather wide, only a little narrower than the elytra, parallel, with straight sides, the first two tergites as usual, shorter than the next three and paler in color; hind tarsi long and slender, of the usual structure. Length 1.78 mm.; width 0.45 mm. New York.
 * }
 * }

The species is an exception in the entire genus in its notably long antennæ. In this genus there are no distinct male sexual modifications so far as observable.

In this subgenus the body is minute in size and of peculiar parallel convex form, the mesosternal process extending but slightly behind the middle of the coxæ, with its apical part subparallel but rather wide, the apex subacutely rounded and rather closely approaching the long and acute metasternal projection, the intervening narrow ridge not or scarcely depressed and the coxæ well separated. The tarsi seem to be rather long but the posterior are missing in my only example. The hypomera appear to be fully visible from a lateral viewpoint but are rather more inflexed than in Atheta.


text: Memoirs on the Coleoptera/Volume 1/New Species of the Staphylinid Tribe Myrmedoniini/Tribe Myrmidoniini/Group Athetæ/Atheta/Micrearota


text:
Presidential Decree No. 940 (Marcos)

, Manila has always been, to the Filipino people and in the eyes of the world, the premier city of the Philippines, it being the center of trade, commerce, education and culture;

, Manila from time immemorial has been the seat of the national government of the Philippines;

, Manila has now become a popular site of international meetings and conferences;

, the City of Manila has modern transportation, communication and accommodation facilities and all the other physical attributes of a modern city;

, President of the Republic of the Philippines, by virtue of the powers vested in me by the Constitution, do hereby decree and order the following as part of the law of the land:

The capital of the Philippines is hereby designated to be Manila and the area prescribed as Metro Manila under Presidential Decree No. 824 shall be the permanent seat of the national government.

Repealing Clause. All laws, decrees, orders, proclamations, charters, and rules and regulations or parts thereof, which are contrary to or inconsistent with this Decree are hereby repealed, amended or modified accordingly.

Effectivity. This Decree shall take effect on June 24, 1976.

Done in the City of Manila, this 29th day of May, in the year of Our Lord, nineteen hundred and seventy-six.

Rh

By the President:

Rh

title: Presidential Decree No. 940 (Marcos)


text:
Page:Memoirs on the coleoptera (IA memoirsoncoleopt01case).pdf/62

54

The type and only known specimen of this isolated species flew upon my newspaper while on a steamer in Hampton Roads.

The type of this subgenus is one of the most minute of the Athetids, of subparallel and moderately convex form, the mesosternal process very short, not extending to the middle of the contiguous coxæ and with its sharply angulate apex finely aciculate, separated from the small but angulate metasternal projection by a very long deep interval, at the bottom of which the longitudinal ridge is very thin and laminiform. The tarsi are moderate, the first four joints of the posterior short and subequal.

The contiguous coxæ and short mesosternum betoken some affinity with Metaxya and Hydrosmecta, but the antennæ are wholly at variance. There are no visible sexual modifications.

Body long and slender, the facies somewhat as in Metaxya, the middle coxæ very narrowly separated, the mesosternal process short, barely extending to the middle of the coxæ, its apex acute but


text:
Page:NBS Circular 553.djvu/96

 {| !Color name !Source !ISCC-NBS Color designation with serial number from sec. 14 After Glow||P||p.pPk 252 Agate||M||s.rBr 40, s.Br 55 Agate Grey||M||1.Gy 264 Agathia Green||H||s.YG 117, s.yG 131 Agean Mist||PP||l.gGy 154 Ageratum||P||gy.pPk 253 Ageratum Blue||M||p.P 227 Floss Flower Blue Ageratum Violet||M||gy.P 228 Ageratum Violet||R||m.P 223 Aladdin's Lamp||P||m.r0 37 Alamo||M||s.Br 55 Alcanna (same as Henna)||M||s.rBr 40 Alcazar (same as Egyptian Red)||M||d.R 16, s.rBr 40 Alderney||M||m.yBr 77 Alesan (same as French Nude)||M||l.gy.rBr 45, l.Br 57, gy.Br 60 Alexandria Blue||M||v.B 176, s.B 178 Almond Blossom (same as Almond [Pink])||M||l.Pk 4, m.Pk 5, p.Pk 7, gy.Pk 8 Almond [Brown]|M||l.Br 57, 1.gy.Br 60, 1.y Br 76, 1.gy.yBr 79 Almond Green||T||m.yG 136, d.yG 137, gy.G 150 Almond Green||TC||gy.G 150 Light Almond Green||T||l.yG 135, m.yG 136, p.G 149 Almond [Pink]||M||l.Pk 4, m.Pk 5, p.Pk 7, gy.Pk 8 Almond Blossom Aloes [Green]||M||p.G 149 Aloma||M||M l.Br 57, I.yBr 76, m.yBr 77 Alpine||M||gy.B 186 Alpine Blue||P||v.l.pB 198, v.p.pB 202 Alpine Green||M||d.gy.G 151 Aluminum||M||l.Gy 264, med.Gy 265 Amaranth||M||deep rP 238 Amaranthine Amaranth||P||d.pR 259, gy.pR 262 Amaranthine (same as Amaranth)||M||deep rP 238 Amaranth Pink||M||deep pPk 248 Amaranth Pink||R||deep pPk 248 Pale Amaranth Pink||R||s.pPk 247 Amaranth Purple||M||deep pR 256 Amaranth Purple||R||deep pR 256 Amaranth Rose||H||s.pPk 247 Amarna||M||deep G 142, d.G 146 Amarylis||M||m.R 15, gy.R 19 Amazon||M||m.G 145 Amber||T||deep OY 69, ΟΥ 71, d.ΟΥ 72
 * Abbey||M||s.V 207
 * Absinthe [Green]||M||m.YG 120
 * Foliage Green||
 * Absinthe Green||R||m.YG 120
 * Absinthe Yellow||M||gy.gY 105
 * Absinthe Yellow||P||m.Y 87
 * Abstract Blue||P||v.p.B 184
 * Abyss||P||p.G 149
 * Acacia||M||1.gY 101, m.gY 102
 * Gaude, Luteous, Olde, Oold, Wald, Wau, Weld, Wield, Woald, Wod, Wold||||
 * Acacia||P||gy.G 150
 * Acacia Gray||P||gGy 155
 * Acacia Green||P||gGy 155
 * Academy Blue||M||m.gB 173
 * Acajou (same as Laurel Oak)||M||m.rBr 43
 * Acajou Red||R||gy.R 19
 * Acanthe||M||m.0l Br 95
 * Butternut, Siberian Brown
 * Acetin Blue||R||gy.pB 204
 * Acier (same as Grey Drab)||M||l.gy.Ol 109
 * Ackermann's Green||M||d.yG 137
 * Ackermann's Green||R||m.G 145
 * Aconite Violet||H||d.V 212
 * Aconite Violet||M||m.P 223
 * Datura
 * Aconite Violet||R||m.P 223
 * Acorn||M||gy.yBr 80
 * Meadowlark
 * Adamia (same as Eminence)||M||d.P 224
 * Adelaide (same as Prunella)||M||deep V 208
 * Aden||M||I.G 144
 * Aden||P||I.G 144
 * Admiral||M||blackish 230,pBlack 235
 * Logwood
 * Admiral||P||d.gy.P 229
 * Adobe||M||m.yBr 77
 * Adobe Brown||T||m.yBr 77
 * Cinnamon Brown
 * Adrianople Red||M||m.R 15
 * Levant Red, Turkey Red, Turkish Red
 * Adriatic||M||m.bG 164
 * Adust (same as Tan)||M||brO 54
 * Aero||M||gy.B 186
 * Aerugineus||B||l.yG 135, m.yG 136,l.G 144, m.G 145,p.G 149, gy.G 150, l.bG 163, m.bG 164
 * Afghan (same as Chippendale)||M||d.gy.Br 62
 * Afghan Red||M||v.R 11
 * Checkerberry, Hypermic Red
 * African||M||Black 267
 * African Brown (same as Chippendale)||M||d.gy. Br 62
 * African Brown||TC||d.gy.Br 62, brGy 64
 * African Green||P||d.gy.B 187
 * African Night||P||d.gy.rBr 47
 * Afterglow||P||M||p.V 214
 * Meadowlark
 * Adamia (same as Eminence)||M||d.P 224
 * Adelaide (same as Prunella)||M||deep V 208
 * Aden||M||I.G 144
 * Aden||P||I.G 144
 * Admiral||M||blackish 230,pBlack 235
 * Logwood
 * Admiral||P||d.gy.P 229
 * Adobe||M||m.yBr 77
 * Adobe Brown||T||m.yBr 77
 * Cinnamon Brown
 * Adrianople Red||M||m.R 15
 * Levant Red, Turkey Red, Turkish Red
 * Adriatic||M||m.bG 164
 * Adust (same as Tan)||M||brO 54
 * Aero||M||gy.B 186
 * Aerugineus||B||l.yG 135, m.yG 136,l.G 144, m.G 145,p.G 149, gy.G 150, l.bG 163, m.bG 164
 * Afghan (same as Chippendale)||M||d.gy.Br 62
 * Afghan Red||M||v.R 11
 * Checkerberry, Hypermic Red
 * African||M||Black 267
 * African Brown (same as Chippendale)||M||d.gy. Br 62
 * African Brown||TC||d.gy.Br 62, brGy 64
 * African Green||P||d.gy.B 187
 * African Night||P||d.gy.rBr 47
 * Afterglow||P||M||p.V 214
 * Air Blue (same as Ceramic)||M||m.B 182
 * Air Castle Blue||P||v.p.B 184
 * Aircraft Cream (AN 507)||F||gy.Y 90
 * Buff (PC), Cream (USA 127)
 * Aircraft Gray (AN 512)||F||l.Gy 264
 * Airedale||M||m.yBr 77, gy.yBr 80
 * Airway||M||l.B 181
 * Airy Cream||P||White 263
 * Akbar||M||deep rBr 41, m.rBr 43
 * Alabaster (same as White Jade)||T||p.yPk 31, yGy 93
 * Alabaster Tint||T||P||v.p.B 184, bWhite 189
 * Egyptian Blue
 * Alfalfa||M||d.yG 137
 * Algerian (same as Tan-bark)||M||m.Br 58
 * Algerian Red||M||deep rBr 41
 * Crimson Maple
 * Algiers Blue||P||m.gB 173
 * Algonquin (same as Terra Cotta)||M||deep O 51, br0 54
 * Alhambra||M||d.gy.G 151, d.bG 165
 * Alice Blue||M||p.B 185
 * Alice Blue||R||p.B 185
 * Light Alice Blue||R||l.B 181, p.B 185
 * Alizarine Blue||R||m.B 182
 * Alizarine Pink||R||s.Pk 2, deep Pk 3
 * Alkermes (same as Scarlet)||M||v.R 11
 * Allure||P||l.B 181
 * Almond||P||1.yBr 76
 * Almond, Burnt (see Burnt Almond)M, P||
 * Almond, Toasted (see Toasted Almond)||M||
 * Biscuit, Doe, Pawnee
 * Almond Cream||P||p.OY 73
 * Almond Green||M||gy.G 150

Amber, Cloudy (see Cloudy Amber)||M Light Amber||T||m.ΟΥ 71, dΟΥ 72 Amber, Peach (see Peach Amber)||P|||| Amber, Rose (see Rose Amber)||M|||| Amber, Topaz (see Topaz Amber)||P|||| Amber Brown||M||bro 54 Amber Brown||R||s. Br 55 Amber Coral||P||m.yPk 29 Amberglow||M||br054, I.Br 57 Amber Gold||P||I.y Br 76, gy.Y 90, d.gy.Y 91 Amberlite||TC||I.y Br 76 Amber White||M||p.Y 89, gy.Y 90, p.gY 104, gy.gY 105, p.YG 121 Amber Yellow||H||brill.Y 83, I.Y 86 Amber [Yellow]||M||I.Y 86, m.Y 87 Venetian Yellow|| Amber Yellow||R||brill.Y 83, s.Y 84, I.Y 86, m.Y 87 Ambrosia||M||m.rBr 43 Ambrosia||P||v.I.yG 134 Ambulance||M||d.gy.rBr 47 Amelie (same as Chippendale)||M||d.gy.Br 62 American Beauty||M||d.R 16 American Beauty||T||v.R 11, m.pR 258 American Beauty||TC||d.pR 259 American Green (same as Jadesheen)||M||m.yG 136, d.yG 137, gy.G 150 American Green||R Dark American Green||R Amethyst||Р Amethyst||P Amethyst||TC Light Amethyst||T Amethyst, Old (see Old Amethyst)||M Amethyst Orchid||P Amethyst Violet||H Amethyst [Violet]||M Amethyst Violet||R Amparo Blue||M Amparo Blue||R Light Amparo Blue||R Pale Amparo Blue||R Amparo Purple||M Amparo Purple||R Light Amparo Purple||R Pale Amparo Purple||R Amulet||M Amulet||P Anamite (same as Twine)||M Anatolia||M Anatta (same as Salmon (Pink)||M Ancestral||P Andorra||M Andorre||M Andover Green||M Andover Green||R Andrinople Berries (same as Ta-Ming)||M Anemone||M Angel Blue||P Angel Red (same Coromandel)||M Angel Wing||P Angora||P Animal Rouge (same as Carmine)||M Aniline Black||R Dark Aniline Blue||R Aniline Lilac||R

m.yG 136 d.yG 137, gy.G 150, d.gy.G 151 gy.rP 245 m.P 223 m.P 223 m.P 223 I.P 222 V.P 216 m.P 223, d.P 224, gy.P 228 V.P 216 s.B 178, brill.pB 195 brill.pB 195 brill.B 177 v.p.B 184, p.B 185 m.P 223 brill.P 217, s.P 218 brill.P 217 I.P 222 d.bG 165 m.bG 164 1.gy.01 109 deep rBr 41 m.yPk 29 White 263, 1.Gy 264 d.rBr 44, d.gy.rBr 47 m.yG 136, gy.G 150 gy.OIG 127 gy.YG 122 s.OY 68, m.OY 71 p.rP 244 v.p.B 184 m.rBr 43 1.pPk 249 p.OY 73, yWhite 92 v.R 11, s.R 12 d.gy.P 229, d.pGy 234 d.gy.B 187, d.gy.P 229 I.V 210 85

title: Page:NBS Circular 553.djvu/96


text: Memoirs on the Coleoptera/Volume 1/New Species of the Staphylinid Tribe Myrmedoniini/Tribe Myrmidoniini/Group Athetæ/Atheta/Micratheta


text:
Page:Batman upon Bartolome.djvu/78

 It is moyſt, that it maye helpe to the diſſolution of things receiued. As if any things that are put too the tongue, either to the roofe of the mouth, be hard or drye, by the moyſture of the tongue, they ſhall be the eaſilier tempered, to be apte and couenable to all manner digeſtion and reſolution. The tongue alſo is ſauourleſſe, that it maye the better take all manner ſauour of things, as the water, the which if it had a determined ſauour, it might not take the ſauour of another thing. Taſt is made in this manner: Two ſinewes be placed in the middle of the tongue, which are ſpread into manye boughes called Radices, and braunches to the vttermoſt ſides and parts of the tongue: and by theſe ſinewes the ſpirite that is called, Animalis, is brought into the tongue. Therefore when the thing that muſt be taſted, entereth into the tongue, either into poores & holes of the ſinewes, ſpirite that is named Animalis, that is therein, taketh a lykeneſſe of the properties thereof, the which afterwarde it preſenteth to the high perſeueraunce of the ſoule. The taaſt is more boyſtous & thicke than the ſmell, as much as fumoſitie is more ſubtill than water. For the ſmell, of kinde is ſmoakie: but the féelyng of taaſt, is a moyſt waterneſſe, as ſayth Conſtantine. This ſenſe is néedfull to ſaue the body and the lyfe of a beaſt. For if the taſt be corrupt or faile: the vertue of féeding fayleth. And ſo the ſubſtaunce of the beaſt fayleth by lyttle and lyttle. The taaſt is corrupt, when his inſtrumentes are hurt and grieued, or when corrupt humours haue maſtrie in them, and that is, when it féeleth not the ſauour of things, either when it féeleth not that ſauour as it is. And that falleth, if a ſingular humour hath maſterie in the ſubſtaunce of the tongue. As by example: If red cholar haue maſterie, all ſéemeth bitter: & if ſalt fleme hath maſterie, all thing ſéemeth ſalt: and ſo of other. As it fareth of them that haue the feauers, in whom the maſterie of a corrupt humour, corrupteth and deſtroyeth the taaſt. Alſo it is chaunged, and hurte by the mallyce of the thing that is taſted: as it fareth in the taaſt of an Aloe, and other things that be paſſing bitter, for by the force or vnſauerineſſe thereof, the taaſt is very much grieued. The taaſt hath lyking in ſwéete things, for that lykeneſſe that it hath with ſwéeteneſſe. For that ſwéetneſſe that ſtandeth in hot and moyſt, is like to all the members be moſt ſpecially fed with ſwéete foode. For ſwéete foode nouriſheth much, and is lyghtly lykened to the members and lims, as ſaith ''Iſaac. in Det.''

¶Of touching. Cap. 21.
TOuching is the wit of knowing diuers things, that are to be touched, for by the vertue of touching, the ſoule knoweth hot and wet, colde and dry, ſoft and hard, ſmooth and rough. Or as Auicen ſayth, The touching is a vertue, ordeyned in the ſinewes of all the body, to knowe what he toucheth. Though this vertue be in all the parts of the body, yet it is principally in the palme of the handes, and in the ſoles of the féete, the which kinde temperately for this reſon hath ordained, that they ſhould the lyghtlyer perceiue and féele things colde and hot. Theſe partes be hollowe, that things to be felt may the better be perceiued, and that things to be helde, maye the better and more ſtrongly be holden. They féele temperately, that they maye take the lightlyer the lykenes of a thing that is temperate. Things that maye be fealt, may be called the compoſition of the firſt qualyties, and certaine conueniences to them, as rough and ſmoothe, harde and ſofte. In the vttermoſt héerof, the vertue of féelyng is grieued and hurte, as in the thing that is eyther too hot or too colde: for kinde hath lyking in the meane, as luke warme. To make this vertue perfect, theſe things néedeth to the cauſe efficient dooing, and that is the deriuation of the ſpirite Animall to the inſtrumentes of féelyng: alſo a conuenient inſtrument, and that is in two manners. One is the ſinewes that commeth from the braine, and bringeth the ſpirite Animall, to all the lymmes.

title: Page:Batman upon Bartolome.djvu/78


text:
Executive Order No. 392 (Corazon Aquino)

, pursuant to Presidential Decree No. 824, as amended, a public corporation known as Metropolitan Manila was formed from among the Cities of Manila, Quezon, Pasay and Caloocan and the Municipalities of Makati, Mandaluyong, San Juan, Las Piñas, Malabon, Navotas, Pasig, Pateros, Parañaque, Marikina, Muntinlupa, Taguig, and Valenzuela, and placed under the administration of the Metropolitan Manila Commission;

, the President exercises direct supervision and control over the Metropolitan Manila Commission (Section 18, Presidential Decree No. 824, as amended);

, Article X, Sections 11 and 13 of the Constitution provide that:

 * " The Congress may, by law, create special metropolitan political subdivisions, subject to a plebiscite as set forth in Section 10 hereof. The component cities and municipalities shall retain their basic autonomy and shall be entitled to their own local executives and legislative assemblies. The jurisdiction of the metropolitan authority that will thereby be created shall be limited to basic services requiring coordination.

 * Local government units may group themselves, consolidate or coordinate their efforts, services, and resources for purposes commonly beneficial to them in accordance with law."

, it is for the best interest of the constituents of the local government units comprising the Metropolitan Manila that the consolidation or coordination of the efforts, services and resources for purposes to them be administered by their duly elected local chief executives;

, while Congress is tasked to pass a law that will provide for the metropolitan authority on a more permanent basis, the present demands for a cohesive consolidation or coordination of basic services among the component cities and municipalities of the Metropolitan Manila necessitate an urgent devolution of the powers and functions of the Metropolitan Manila to an interim authority;

, Article XVIII, Section 8 of the Constitution states:

 * " Until otherwise provided by the Congress, the President may constitute the Metropolitan Authority to be composed of the heads of all local government units comprising the Metropolitan Manila area."

, President of the Philippines, by virtue of the powers vested in me by the Constitution and by law, do hereby order:

Until otherwise provided by the Congress, there is hereby constituted the Metropolitan Manila Authority, hereinafter referred to as the Authority, to be composed of the heads of the four (4) cities and thirteen (13) municipalities comprising the Metropolitan Manila area.

The Authority shall have jurisdiction over the delivery of basic urban services requiring coordination in the Metropolitan Manila. These basic urban services shall include among others: land use, planning and zoning; traffic management; public safety; urban development and renewal; management and control of operations during calamities and emergencies affecting public welfare and safety; and sanitation and waste management. Any change in the classification of zoning shall however be subject to the approval of the Housing and Land Use Regulatory Board (HLURB).

The Authority shall be governed by the Metropolitan Manila Council, hereinafter referred to as the Council, composed of the Mayors of the four (4) cities and thirteen (13) municipalities of Metropolitan Manila.

The Chairman shall be elected from among the Mayor members of the Council to serve for a term of six (6) months. The Council shall be assisted by a professional Metropolitan General Manager and three Deputy General Managers to be appointed by the President of the Philippines.

The Secretaries of Transportation and Communications, Public Works and Highways, and Budget and Management shall attend all meetings of the Council as non-voting members.

The Council shall be responsible for the following:

1. Formulation of policies on the delivery of basic services requiring coordination or consolidation for the operations of the Authority; and

2. Promulgation of resolutions and other issuances of metropolitan-wide application, approval of a code of basic services requiring coordination, and exercise of its rule-making powers.

The members of the Council shall have one (1) vote each. The Council shall establish the necessary technical, consultative and secretariat support.

The Metropolitan Manila Commission shall devolve to the Authority all its powers and functions, which are not otherwise inconsistent with the Constitution and existing laws, in order to carry out its mandate to deliver basic urban services requiring coordination or consolidation in Metropolitan Manila.

The Chairman of the Council shall have the following functions:

1. Call and preside at the meetings of the Council;

2. Present for the approval of the Council the annual budget of the Authority;

3. Submit the organizational structure and staffing pattern of the Authority for approval by the Council and the President;

4. Present for the approval of the Council after consultation with the local government units and the appropriate government entities the following plans and proposals: the annual operations plan, proposed policies and programs, revenue-raising measures and proposals, draft rules and regulations, and such other plans and projects necessary to carry out the purpose of this Executive Order and which require the approval of the Council;

5. Prepare and submit to the Council and to the President of the Philippines annual reports and evaluation of programs and projects;

6. Recommend to the President and Congress, with the approval of the Council, measures which will improve the quality of life of the people in Metropolitan Manila or which will introduce services not covered by this Executive Order which are necessary for the betterment of Metropolitan Manila;

7. Recommend to the national policy-making bodies the implementation of plans and programs of agencies and/or local governments that conform to the regional development plan; and

8. Perform such other functions as may be required by law, by the President, or by the Council of the Authority in accordance with this Executive Order.

The Metropolitan General Manager of the Authority shall have the following functions:

1. Manage the day-to-day operations of the Authority;

2. Develop programs and implement projects along the policies set by the Council and assist the Chairman of the Council in the management and operations of the Authority;

3. Act as head of the technical, consultative and management staff of the Authority;

4. Assist the Chairman and the Council in the preparation of rules and regulations, the comprehensive development plan, the operations plan and appropriation measure, the basic services code, and such other measures which are necessary to help the Chairman and the Council attain the objectives of this Executive Order;

5. Prepare the annual reports and other reports of projects and programs required by this Executive Order, for the approval of the Chairman; and,

6. Perform such other functions as may be required by law, by the Council, or by its Chairman.

The local government units shall continue to be primarily responsible for the administration of their respective political jurisdictions. While local governments shall be involved with specific problems and issues concerning their respective political jurisdictions, the Authority shall attend to metropolitan-wide and/or common problems or those transcending local boundaries. Local city and municipal councils shall formulate and submit city/municipal plans and priorities to Authority for integration with the sectoral and regional plans. The Authority shall provide technical assistance and guidance on the preparation of local development plans and programs to ensure conformity with the regional plan. The Authority shall review legislation proposed by the local legislative assemblies to ensure consistency among local governments and with the comprehensive development plan of Metro Manila, and advise the local governments accordingly.

To carry out the purposes of this Executive Order, the Authority shall submit to the Department of Budget and Management the budget for its annual operating expenses for inclusion in the general appropriations law.

City and municipal treasurers of the local government units comprising Metropolitan Manila shall continue to collect all revenues and receipts accruing to the Metropolitan Manila Commission and remit the same to the Authority; Provided, that such income collections as well as the share of the Authority from the regular sources of revenue in the General Fund of the city or municipality as local counterpart for the integrated basic services and developmental projects shall be treated as a trust fund in their books of account; Provided, further, that the remittances thereof shall be effected within the first thirty (30) days following the end of each monthlymonth. [sic] Failure to remit the same within the prescribed period without justifiable reason shall subject the personsperson [sic] or persons responsible for such delay to the penalties and sanctions imposelimposed [sic] under existing laws. In this regard, the Council is authorized to conduct an inquiry as to the cause of suchde laysuch delay [sic].

All sources of revenues of the Metropolitan Manila Commission shall remain valid and in effect, and shall henceforth pertain to the Authority.

All city and municipal treasurers, municipal assessors, and their assistants as well as all other officials whose appointment is currently vested upon the Metropolitan Manila Commission shall be appointed by the President of the Philippines, upon recommendation of the Council, subject to the Civil Service law, rules and regulations.

Other treasury and assessment personnel shall be appointed by the local chief executive in the city or municipality in accordance with existing laws.

The Authority, the Council, the Chairman of the Council, and the Metropolitan Manager shall be under the direct supervision of the President of the Philippines. The President shall have the power to revoke, amend or modify any rule, resolution or act of the Authority, the Council, the Chairman of the Council, and the Metropolitan Manager.

The President shall continue to exercise administrative disciplinary jurisdiction over the elective City and Municipal officials in the Metropolitan Manila.

To enable the President of the Philippines to assess the performance of the Authority and the management system of Metropolitan Manila, the Authority shall undertake a periodic review of its functions, organizational structure, and impact of its programs and projects at least once every year and submit a special report thereof to the President with appropriate findings and recommendations.

To prevent disruption in the delivery of basic urban services pending the full implementation of the Authority's organizationaorganizational [sic] structure and staffing pattern, all officials and employees of the Metropolitan Manila Commission including the incumbent Commissioners who shall continue to exercise their duties and functions under the direction of the Authority until they have been given notice for change of duties and functions, transfer to another office or position, or termination of service. Until otherwise provided by law the Authority shall be exempted from the coverage of Batas Pambansa Blg. 337, the Local Government Code.

All assets and properties presently in use and/or under the accountability of the Metropolitan Manila Commission and all its obligations, indebtedness or liabilities shall be transferred to the Authority subject to conditions that may be established by the Department of Budget and Management, Office of the President and Commission on Audit.

Civil service laws and regulations pertinent to the displacement of personnel affected by this Executive Order shall be strictly enforced.

The Acting Governor of the Metropolitan Manila shall supervise the transfer to the Authority of such subsisting powers and functions, including the transfer of properties, assets and liabilities, and personnel of the Metropolitan Manila Commission within the period of sixty (60) days from the date of this Executive Order. Upon the effectivity of this Executive Order, the Acting Governor shall convene the mayors of the cities and municipalities comprising Metropolitan Manila and shall preside at its organizational meeting, which shall include, among others, in its agenda the election of the Chairman of the Council. After the election of the Chairman of the Council but within sixty (60) days referred to herein, the Acting Governor shall turn over the affairs of the Metropolitan Manila Commission to the Council.

This Executive Order shall take effect upon approval and completion of its publication in at least two (2) national newspapers of general circulation.

in the City of Manila, this 9th day of January, in the year of Our Lord, nineteen hundred and ninety.

Rh

By the President:

Rh


text:
Scribner's Magazine/Volume 34/Number 6/A House of Mercy

UNT MERCY, what are you thinking of?" The young man turned his head a little on the pillow to look inquiringly toward the door.

It was the door of Room 24 leading into the men's ward. Aunt Mercy had been standing there for five minutes, gazing intently before her into space. The serene face framed in the white muslin cap had a rapt, waiting look. It reminded the young man of a German Madonna that he had run across last summer in an old gallery corner, whose face had haunted him. "Aunt Mercy, what are you thinking about?" he repeated gently.

She turned slowly toward him, the placid look breaking into twinkles. "I was thinking I'd better turn Mr. Ketchel's mattress t'other end to, and put a bolster under the upper end. It kind of sags."

For a moment the young man on the pillow looked a little bewildered. Then he lay back and laughed till the iron bedstead rang and the men in the ward pricked up their ears and smiled, in sympathy.

Aunt Mercy smiled too, stepping leisurely toward him.

"There, there," she said as she adjusted the sheet and lowered his pillow a trifle, "I dunno's I'd laugh any more 'bout that. 'Tisn't so very funny to change a mattress t'other end to."

He raised a hand and wiped the laughter from either eye. "But you looked as if you were thinking of angels and cherubims and things, Aunt Mercy."

She nodded placidly. "I gen'ally do," she responded, "but that don't hinder knowing about mattresses and bolsters .... I wouldn't laugh any more for a day or two if I was you. The bandages might get loose." She slipped a careless hand along his forehead, gathered up a cup and plate from the stand beside him, and slid plumply from the room.

His eyes followed her through the door, down the long ward as she stopped here and there for a word or a question. Once she raised her hand sternly at a bed and sniffed. The cap-strings bristled fiercely.

"He's catching it," muttered the young man from the private room, "I knew he would. You can't keep a baccy pouch in the same room with Aunt Mercy." He sighed a little and glanced, without turning his head, toward the window where the spring clouds sailed and filled with swelling whiteness. A breath of freshness stole in softly. On the sill was a bowl of pansies. He lay looking at them idly. His lids fluttered and closed—and lifted again and fell shut.

Out in the ward the men were laughing and talking. Sanderson, robbed of his baccy pouch, was sullen and resentful, and the men were chaffing him. Aunt Mercy drifted through the swing door at the end of the ward. She placed the cup and plate on a dumb waiter and crossed the hall to the women's ward. A nurse met her as she came in at the door. "Mrs. Crosby is worse. Temperature a hundred and four," she said in a low voice.

Aunt Mercy nodded. She went slowly down the ward. White faces on the pillows greeted her and followed her. Aunt Mercy beamed on them. She stopped beside a young girl and bent over to speak to her. The girl's face lighted. It lost its fretted look. Aunt Mercy had told her that she was to have a chop for her dinner if she was a good girl, and that there was a robin out in the apple tree. She turned her gaunt eyes toward the window. Her face listened. Aunt Mercy went on.... A nurse coming in handed her a slip of paper. She glanced at it and tucked it into her dress. It was a telephone message from Dr. Carmen, asking to have the operating-room ready for an appendicitis case in ten minutes.

The girl with the gaunt eyes called to her.

"Aunt Mercy." The voice was weak and impatient.

Aunt Mercy turned slowly back. She stood by the bed, looking down with a smile.

The girl thrust an impatient hand under her cheek, "Can I hear him inhere?" she demanded.

Aunt Mercy glanced toward the window. "The robin? Like enough, if he flies this way. I'll go out and chase him 'round bime-by when I get time."

The girl laughed—a low pleased laugh. Aunt Mercy's tone had drawn a picture for her: The robin, the flying cap-strings in swift pursuit, and all out-doors—birds and trees and sky. She nestled her face on her hand and smiled quietly. "I'm going to be good," she said.

Aunt Mercy looked at her with a severe twinkle. "Yes, you'll be good—till next time," she said.

The nurse by the door waited, impatient. Aunt Mercy came across the room.

"Get 15 ready.... Find the new nurse.... Send her to the operating-room.... Send Henry to the ambulance door.... Tell Miss Staunton to have things hot and put out the new ether cones. It wants fresh carbolic and plenty of sponges." The nurse sped swiftly away.

Aunt Mercy looked peacefully around. She gave one or two instructions to the ward nurse, talked a moment with one of the patients, smiled a kind of general benediction on the beds and faces and sunlit room, and went quietly out.... At the door of the operating-room she paused a moment and gave a slow, comfortable glance about. She changed the position of a stand and rearranged the ether cones.

The next minute she was standing at the side door greeting Dr. Carmen. The ambulance was at the door.

"It's a bad case," he said. "Waited too long."

"Woman, I suppose," said Aunt Mercy. She was watching the men as they put the trestles in place.

"He looked at her. "How did you know?"

"They're 'most always the ones to wait. They stand the pain better'n men." She stepped one side with a quiet glance at the fitter as the men bore it past. "She'll come through," she said as they followed it up the low stairway.

"I wish I felt as sure," responded Dr. Carmen.

Aunt Mercy glanced back. A man was standing at the door, his eyes following them. She looked inquiringly toward the Doctor.

"Her husband," he said. "He's going to wait."

Aunt Mercy spoke a word to a nurse who was coming down the stairs, with a motion of her hand toward the man waiting below.

The little procession entered the operating room, and the door was shut.

man in the reception-room was waiting. He was thick-set, with dark hair and eyes and an obstinate chin. He looked up with a doubtful flash as Aunt Mercy came in.

"How is she?" he demanded. He had sprung to his feet.

Aunt Mercy descended into a creaking chair and folded her hands quietly. "Sit down, Mr. Dalton," she said, "I'm going to tell you all about it."

The words seemed to promise limitless details.

He sat down, chafing a little, and looking at her eagerly.

She smiled on him. "Hard work waiting, ain't it?" she said.

His face broke a little.

"Did she get through all right."

Aunt Mercy nodded. "Yes, she got through." She rocked a little in the big chair. "She's standin' it pretty well, considering," she added after a pause.

"Will she get well?" The question burst at her.

She looked up at him slowly—at the dark eyes and obstinate chin. "I don't know," she said. She waited a minute. "I suppose you'd rather know the truth," she asked.

"Yes,—yes."

"I thought so." The muslin strings nodded. "When my husband died they didn't let us know how sick he was. I've always thought we might 'a' saved him—between us—if we'd 'a' known. They wanted to spare my feelings." She looked at him inquiringly.

"Yes." He waited a little less impatiently. The world was a big place. Everybody died.... Would Edith die?... He looked at her imploringly.

She returned the look with one full of gentleness. "I don't see how she's going to live," she said slowly. The face under its white cap took on a trance-like look. The eyes were fixed on something unseen. She drew a quick breath.... "But I guess she will," she said with a tremulous laugh.

The man's lips parted.

She looked at him again. "If I was you, Mr. Dalton, I'd go home and feel pretty big and strong and well, and I'd hope pretty hard."

He looked at her, bewildered.

She was on her feet. She ran her eye over his face and person. I'd wear the cleanest, freshest clothes I could get, and I'd look so 'twould do her good just to set eyes on me."

He flushed under the two-days' growth of beard, and ran his hand awkwardly across his chin. "But they won't let me see her?" he said.

"Well, I don't know," responded Aunt Mercy. "It'll do her good—whether she sees you or not," she added energetically.

He rose with a smile, holding out his hand. "I believe you 're right," he said. " I t gives me something to do, anyway, and that's worth a good deal."

"Yes, it's something to do," she responded, "and I don't suppose any of us knows just what cures folks."

"Could I see her to-morrow, perhaps?" he asked, watching her face.

She shook her head emphatically. "Not till I think best," she replied with decision. His face fell.

"And not then," she said, "unless you're feeling pretty well and strong and happy."

He gave a little abrupt laugh. "Oh, you've fixed that all right. I sha'n't sigh—not once—in a dark room—with the lights out."

Aunt Mercy smiled serenely. "That's good." At the door she paused a moment. "I wouldn't reckon too much on seeing her," she said. "I sha'n't let anyone see her till she asks. She won't pay much attention for three-four days yet."

A peculiar look crossed the man's dark face. "That's all right," he said. "I can wait."

"Outside the door he l8fted his face a little to the fresh breeze. His eyes stared absently at the drifting sky. "Now, how did she know Edith wouldn't want to see me?" he said softly, "how did she find that out?"

connected with the hospital was under the absolute control of Aunt Mercy. Each member of the white-capped corps of nurses looked to her for direction, and the cook and the man who ran the furnace refused to take orders from anyone else. It was no unusual sight for the serene, white-framed face, with its crisp strings to appear among the pipes and elbows of the furnace-room, and leave behind it a whiff of common sense and a series of hints on the running of the hot-water boiler. Even Dr. Carmen himself never brought a patient to the House of Mercy without asking humble and solicitous permission of Aunt Mercy.

There was a current belief that the Berkeley House of Mercy belonged to Aunt Mercy herself; and I am not at all sure that Aunt Mercy did not think so—at times. The hospital had been endowed twelve years before by a rich woman in gratitude for her recovery from a painful disease. She had wished to reward the surgeon who had cured her. And when Dr. Carmen had refused any payment beyond the usual fee, she had established the Berkeley House of Mercy over which he was to have absolute control. He, in turn, had installed Aunt Mercy as matron of the hospital—not with the understanding that she was to have absolute control, but as being, on the whole, the most sensible and reliable woman of his acquaintance.

The result of the arrangement was as has been stated. It was not known that Aunt Mercy had ever refused him, point-blank, permission to bring a patient to the hospital. But she sometimes protested, with a shrewd twinkle in her eye, "Oh, I can't have that Miss Enderby here. She's always wanting to have her own way about things I" Then Dr. Carmen would laugh and bring the patient. Perhaps he gave her a hint beforehand. Perhaps the fame of Aunt Mercy's might had reached her. Perhaps it was the cool, firm fingers.... Whatever might be the reason, it is safe to say that Miss Enderby did not once have her own way from the day that she was carried into the wide doors of the House of Mercy, a sick and querulous woman, to the day when she left it with firm, quick step, and turning back at the door to fall with a sob on Aunt Mercy's neck, was met with a gentle little push and a quick flash from the white-capped face. "There, there, Miss Enderby, you run right along. There's nothin' upsets folks like sayin' good-by. You come back some day and say it when you're feeling pretty well."

was thinking to-day, as she went back along the wide corridor to Room 15, that the new patient was not unlike Miss Enderby. There was the same inflexible tightening of the lips and the same contracted look of the high, level brows. The lips had not opened except for low moans, and the eyes were closed. As Aunt Mercy stood looking down at them, they fluttered softly. They opened for a moment and closed again with a dull look.

Aunt Mercy bent her head and listened to the heavy breathing. Then she spoke softly to the nurse in charge, who listened obediently and went away. It was not an unusual thing for Aunt Mercy to assume control of a case at any moment. Perhaps she was most likely to do this about three or four o'clock in the morning when all the hospital was asleep and a chill had crept into the air. The nurse in charge of a critical case would look up to find Aunt Mercy standing beside her, fresh from a cold bath, with a smile on her big, restful face and a whispered command on her lips that sent the tired nurse to bed with a clear conscience.

The patients that Aunt Mercy assumed in this peremptory fashion always recovered. Perhaps they would have recovered in any case. This is one of the things that no one knows. It may be noted, however, in passing, the patients themselves as they came into the new day, holding fast to Aunt Mercy's hand, cherished a belief that had it not been for that firm, plump hand, the new day would not have dawned for them.... They had no strength and no will of their own. But through the cold and the darkness, something held them; and when the spirit came creeping back with the morning, the first thing that their eyes rested on was Aunt Mercy's face.

woman's eyes opened suddenly. They looked for a moment, dull and unseeing, into Aunt Mercy's. Then they fell shut. Aunt Mercy's fingers noted the pulse and passed once or twice across the high, fretted brow. Slowly a look of sleep passed over the face and the strained lines relaxed. Aunt Mercy, watching it, gave a nod of satisfaction Out in the orchard the robin sang his twilight song, slow and cool and liquid, with long pauses between, and the dusk crept into the white room, touching it.

Aunt Mercy sat passive, waiting, the eyes under her white cap glowing with a still, deep look. All the threads of life and death in the hospital gathered up and centred in the quiet figure sitting there. Not a pulse in the great building beat, or flickered and went out, that Aunt Mercy did not know it.' But she sat waiting while the twilight deepened, a look of restfulness in her big face. Now and then she crooned to herself, half humming the lines of some hymn and falling silent again, watching the sleeper's breath.

The night nurse paused outside the door, and a Httle rush of gaslight flickered in. Aunt Mercy rose and closed the door and shifted a screen noiselessly to the foot of the bed. The long night had settled down for its sleep. And Edith Dalton's soul was keeping watch with death. Slowly it sank back into the grim hold... only a spark left, with Aunt Mercy keeping guard over it.... So the night passed and the day, and another night and another day... and the third day dawned. Edith Dalton would have said, as the spark glowed higher and blazed a little and lighted her soul, and her eyes rested on Aunt Mercy's face, that the figure sitting there had not left her side for the three days. Down through the deepest waters, where death lulled her and heaven waited, she had felt a touch on her soul, holding her, drawing her steadily back to life; and now she opened her eyes and they rested on Aunt Mercy's face and smiled a little. Then the lids fluttered together again and sleep came to the face, natural and sweet.

Aunt Mercy's eyes grew dark beneath the white cap. She touched a bell and gave the case over to the day nurse that came. "She will be all right now," she said. She spoke in the low, even voice that was not a whisper and not a tone. "Give her plenty of water. She has been very thirsty. But there is no fever. Don't call me unless there is a change.... Then send at once." She departed on her rounds.

No one would have guessed, as the fresh, stout figure moved in and out among the wards, that she had not slept for two nights. There was a tradition that Aunt Mercy never slept and that she was never tired. Dr. Carmen laughed at the tradition and said that Aunt Mercy slept as much as anyone, more than most people, in fact, only she did it with her eyes open—that it was only a superstition that made people think they must shut their eyes to sleep. The Hindus had a trick worth two of that. Aunt Mercy knew the trick, and she might tell other folks if she would, and save the world a lot of trouble.

But Aunt Mercy only shook her head, and smiled, and went her way. And when the fight with death came, she went with each one down into that other world, the world of sleep and faith and unconscious power, on the borderland of death, where the soul is reborn, and waited there for life. She had no theories about it, and no pride; and if she had now and then a gentle, imperious scorn of theorists and bunglers, it was only the touch of human nature that made the world love her.

was the sixth day, and Edith Dalton was doing well—that is, the wound was doing well. As for the woman, she lay with indifferent eyes looking at the white wall of her room and waiting recovery. The only time that the look in the eyes changed was when Aunt Mercy appeared in the doorway for a moment, or sat by her bed. Then it would deepen to a question and flicker toward hope.

"Doing well?" Aunt Mercy would say. "They give you good things to eat, don't they?"

The woman smiled faintly. "Yes."

"That's right. Eat and sleep. And hope don't hurt—a little of it."

"Aunt Mercy?" The voice had a sharp note. It was the tenth morning, and the invalid was resting against the pillows that had been raised on the bed.

"Yes?" Aunt Mercy turned back.

"Hasn't he been to see me—once—my husband?" There was a shamed, half-imperious note in the words.

Aunt Mercy sat down comfortably by the bed and looked at her. Then she shook her head, chidingly... "I've never seen a sick person yet that wa'n't unreasonable,"' she said.

The woman's face relaxed. "I know," she said, apologetically, "but when one is sick the days are long."

"You told me—that was four-five days ago," said Aunt Mercy, "that you didn't want to see him or hear his name mentioned. At least, that's what I understood."

The woman was not looking at her.

"So when he's been here, time and again—three times a day, some days—I've told 'em you couldn't see anybody—not even your husband.... I thought that was what you wanted?"

"Yes," said the woman, faintly.

Aunt Mercy nodded. "And now you're acting hurt and keeping yourself from getting well."

The woman flushed a little. "I don't think I am."

"Yes, you are," said Aunt Mercy, comfortably. "Of course it don't make any real difference. You'll get well some time.... Only it seems foolish. Well, I must be going on my rounds. Keep up good courage." She stood up and moved toward the door.

" Aunt Mercy."

"Yes."

"You haven't time to stop a few minutes?" "Why, yes. I've got plenty of time, if you want me. There's two operations this morning, but everything's ready."

"Two operations?" The woman's lips grew white.

"One's a man with five children. Got to lose his leg.... His wife's plucky. She's gone right to work earning money. But she's coming this morning to be with him for the operation. She said he'd stand it better. I guess she's right. They seem pretty close together.... That's the only thing I really envy in this world," said Aunt Mercy, slowly,... "having a husband that loves you and cares." She sat quietly watching the locust leaves outside the window. They shimmered in the light.

The woman raised a hand. "You don't understand," she said.

"Like enough not," said Aunt Mercy. "It's hard work understanding other folks' feelings. I don't more'n half understand my own.... I suppose you were kind of disappointed in him....?"

"I don't know " The words faltered.

"They be, mostly."

"Is everyone unhappily married?" the voice flashed at her.

"Well, I didn't say just that. But most of 'em find it different from what they expected—men being men.... Women are women, too. I'll have to go, now. It's time for the man, and she'll be waiting in the parlor. I told her to wait there." She rose slowly. "You don't want to see him, if he should happen to come to-day?"

"No." The lips trembled a little and closed over the word.

"All right," said Aunt Mercy, soothingly. "Take plenty of time to get well. He can wait. He's a good kind to wait, I can see that." She had drifted out.

The woman's eyes followed her eagerly with a question in them. She put up her hands to cover them. When she took them down the eyes were filled with tears and a gentle light glowed in them. "Dear old Tom," she said, softly, "he can wait."

As Aunt Mercy opened the parlor door he sprang to his feet. He was radiant with a look of courage, and his eyes glowed as he came toward her.

She shook her head, smiling a little. Then she turned to a young woman waiting by the door. She was strong and fresh and a look of purpose gleamed in her face. Aunt Mercy looked at her approvingly. Go down to Room 20, Mrs. Patton, on the left-hand side. I've told Dr. Carmen you're to be there. It's all right."

As the young woman left the room she turned to him again.

"Won't she see me?" he asked.

"Come to-morrow about ten o'clock," she said, slowly, "she'll be wanting to see you then."

"How do you know?" He reached out a hand.

"I don't know, but I seem to feel it in my bones. She's most well.... She's well all through."

And she left him standing there, a glad light in his eyes, while she went down the corridor to the man waiting in Room 20.


text: Talk:Scribner's Magazine/Volume 34/Number 6/A House of Mercy


text:
On the Face of the Waters

HE had been sitting in the dusk on the veranda, looking into the shadows and thinking that she would go in and read a little before going to bed. The house was very quiet. The children were asleep. Tom was at the club. The whole town was asleep in the moonlight as she looked down the shaded street. Not a soul was in sight. Then she fell to dreaming. The moonlight often made her dream. It was by moonlight that Tom had wooed her. She had been won in the enchanted land. Married life was broad daylight. But sometimes she slipped back to it again—to the land of shadows and beckoning and foliage with the moonlight sifting through.... The gate-latch clicked. She peered through the dusk, down the long yard. It was Tom—and some one with him. She watched the two figures, idly, incuriously, as they came up the path. Near the house one of them tossed away the end of a cigar. It fell among the flowers and glowed. They came up the broad steps slowly, a little lazily. It was a warm night, and Tom had grown stout. At the top of the steps he paused, looking back to the yard and pointing to something behind them, explaining it to the figure beside him. Then they turned and crossed the veranda to the little open-air room at the end.

She watched them as they approached, wondering whether she knew the man.... No, she had never seen him.... He was too distinguished for Burleighville.

“It's Ward Allen,” said Tom genially. “Think of my finding him at the club!”

The man bowed over her extended hand with exaggerated courtesy. It made her feel plebeian and commonplace. She was suddenly conscious that her hands were rough from the garden work and her collar crumpled. She withdrew her hand quickly, almost rudely, and motioned to a seat near by.

Tom drew it forward with a quick gesture: “Sit down, Ward. Sit right down. Make yourself at home. It's mighty good to get you here.” He seated himself on the railing of the veranda and surveyed his guest with satisfaction. “Just about the last man I expected to see,” he said sideways to Mary. His lighted cigar was in his hand and he put it to his lips, heaving a contented whiff. “I'd been talking to Burleigh, and I turned around, and there he was.” He smiled toward his guest, with a slow, broad smile that the moonlight broadened and softened.

The man's face returned it parenthetically. He was leaning back in his chair, looking into the shadowy yard:

“You have a beautiful place here.” He had turned to Mary.

She lifted her glance indifferently, studying the misty light: “By moonlight—yes.”

“At any time,” said the man politely. “You have done a great deal to it. I remember the place as a boy. No one would have guessed it would be like this.” He was still addressing her. But she made no response.

After a moment's silence she raised her eyes, almost perfunctorily. “Perhaps so,” she said.

Tom looked at her, the slow smile on her lips. “She don't enthuse over the place,” he said lightly. “The vegetable garden's her pet. Just wait till you see the turnips. Now the main thing I did here”—he waved his cigar comprehensively—“was to clear up the brush a little and close things in. That clump of cedars over there—one of the nicest things we've got. You ought to have seen it, all choked in and tangled up with grape-vines and bittersweet. It took a man two weeks to get it cut away and trimmed up. But there it is!” He surveyed it fondly.

“Very fine,” said the man, “especially from this point.”

“That's it. You see it, don't you? Same old block!” He looked at his guest affectionately. “We always did agree from the word 'go.'” He turned to his wife: “If you'd seen the way we tagged each other round, you'd 'a' thought we had one idea between us.”

“Damon and Pythias?” she said. She was wondering whether she might slip away into the house and read her book, after all. She was de trop in this reunion. The man's refined air annoyed her, and his deliberate, well-bred interest. No one would have—that Burleighville could have done a man like that.

Tom extended his cigar-case. “Take one,” he said, “Mary don't mind.”

The man refused with a gesture.

Tom bit off the end and searched for a match: “Damon and Pythias is the poetry of it. But I guess Siamese Twins is nearer the truth. We didn't sigh for each other soulfully, but we stuck like burs.”

The man from the city smiled a little. He had risen to his feet, putting aside his host's protest: “Not to-night, I mustn't stay. Aunt Esther will be sitting up for me. I mustn't spoil her beauty sleep.”

He turned to the woman sitting in the low chair beside him. “Don't rise, Mrs. Searle,” he protested as she stood up.

“I am going in,” she said bruskly. She felt helplessly rude. The man drove her to it—with his urbanity. With sudden contrition she held out her hand: “Good-night, Mr. Allen. Your coming back will mean a great deal to Tom. He has often spoken of you.”

He bowed low over the hand. “I count it a great privilege to know his wife,” he responded.

She withdrew her hand quickly. “Good-night,” she said.

HE sweet-peas hid him from sight till he was close upon her. She rose from her knees by the onion bed, looking to either side for flight. Then she advanced to meet him.

He wore a white linen suit with a straw hat and boutonnière, and he carried a light walking-stick. He was the correct gentleman. Yet he looked, somehow, oddly at home in the garden.

Mary took in the immaculate freshness, the crisp, shining hair and low-cut shoes, as she crossed the few feet of turf between them.

He lifted the straw hat, greeting her with a frank smile. “I came to see the garden,” he said.

She looked at him, a little puzzled, a little vexed: “Do you care to see it?”

“I came on purpose.”

“Very well.” She turned and led the way down the paths, pointing out the different beds with elaborate care and relating the history of each with a kind of dry precision.

The man beside her lent himself to her mood. His questions were curt and to the point, but full of interest. Gradually she thawed to them. The man seemed to know the difference between a cabbage and a cucumber. She showed him a new variety of endive that she was cherishing in a remote corner. “I'm afraid the cook will find it,” she explained. “I am saving it for Tom—for his birthday.”

“Just for Tom?”

“Just for Tom,” she said, smiling a little. “The rest of us may get a taste, but it is his treat. The whole garden is really for him,” she added with a touch of abandon.

The man laughed happily: “I thought he despised it.”

“He does—in theory. In practise he is very fond of it.” The tone held no cynicism, only frank amusement and affection.

The man looked at her. She wore no hat, and her hair was loosened by the wind and tumbled. A streak of brown earth lay across one cheek. She was not conscious of her looks, or of him. The contentment of the garden had come back to her. She was looking across it with shining eyes. “Shall we go back?” she said.

He glanced at a seat under the elm, near by, at the foot of the garden. “I could rest a little,” he said.

She smiled and led the way to the seat: “Tom always wants to stop here.”

“He shows good sense,” said the man. “He always had good sense.”

“Always,” she responded.

For a few minutes they sat without speaking. She was conscious that the silence made no demands. The man's super-refinement had vanished. She thought of it vaguely as a kind of romantic garment, appropriate for a moonlight stroll, but out of place in the sunshine. It seemed to have slipped from him. He was like the garden now, clear and clean-cut, with a hint of something tonic beneath. She smiled a little at the fancy. She was glad that she disliked him less. It would be pleasanter for Tom.

“My Aunt Esther is the most beautiful woman I know,” he said quietly; “beautiful in her way.”

She started and looked at him. Then her face broke into a smile. “Isn't she!” she said quickly. “I didn't suppose anybody else would see it. Tom calls her homely.” She laughed.

He smiled back: “I was thinking how she looked this morning in her flower garden, like a piece of porcelain—”

“Porcelain—?” Her voice lingered on the question.

“No—not quite—not porcelain, is it? I hadn't thought of that. It is more like—” He leaned back with closed eyes, his face intent.... “It's more like fine pottery,” he said at last, “like faience—the kind Palissy used to make—'”

She leaned forward: “With blue in it?”

He opened his eyes: “Blue and green, with a touch of pink on enamel—cream-white.”

“I know,” she spoke quickly. “And not too fine.”

“Not too fine—but very clear—and beautiful in its roughness.” He turned to her. “You never saw a piece?”

“No. But I know how it looks. I have seen her.”

He assented quietly: “Yes, you have seen her. She is perfect. I am glad you see it.”

“I have always seen it,” she said a little jealously, “only I didn't know the name.”

He nodded: “And I never saw it till yesterday.”

“She has always been like that.”

“A boy of fourteen doesn't have much use for Palissy plates,” he replied carelessly. “He cares more for what's on 'em—spiced cookies and succulent pies.”

She smiled a little: “Tom is always quoting them to me.”

He nodded: “Absolutely perfect. I never tasted anything like 'em. But she, herself—you ought to have seen her this morning—among those nice plump flowers, you know?”

“She has them all—money-flower, phlox, sweet williams, and hollyhocks, pinks and love-lies-bleeding, mullein-pinks, dahlias, bachelor's buttons, and rue.” She ran over the list, checking them off on her fingers and lingering a little over the quaint names.

He nodded. “Aren't they just right!” he exclaimed. “She was out there, working away on them, with her skirts pinned up, all clean and shining, and some little mucker—about so high—had wandered in the gate. She was talking to him and giving him flowers and kind of loving him, shy and stiff. It took Palissy all his life to find out how to make those plates,” he said suddenly. “He ruined his life for it. Burned his furniture in the kiln to fire them.”

She looked at him quietly; then past him, down the long rows of vegetable beds. She had a quick sense of sunshine and gladness. No one in Burleighville had seen Miss Esther Farquhar like this. No one would have cared to say it that way.... She had come out to the garden for vegetables, and she found—had found—sunshine with warmth in it.

They sat a moment longer in silence. Then they moved back, down the paths of the vegetable beds, to the house. At the side door she paused.

“Will you go around and wait for Tom? I must make myself presentable.” She held up her stained fingers.

He looked at them and at her loosened hair and at the earthmark on her cheek. “You are not Palissy ware,” he said smiling; “you are a garden piece. I must find a name for it.”

She shook her head. “Naming is just a mania,” she said; “seeing is better.”

“I like to do both,” he replied contentedly. “No, I mustn't stop this morning. Tell Tom I'll see him to-night.”

He lifted his hat and passed down the walk to the gate, immaculate and white, swinging the little cane lightly as he walked.

In her room she dashed the water over her face and throat, removing the mark from her cheek and bringing little tendrils of hair curling about her forehead. She buried her face in the towel and lifted it, radiant. In the cool dusk of the room, after the light outside, she could hardly distinguish the familiar objects. She moved in a new world.... There were men and women like that everywhere.... Men who saw things and cared about them. And they looked like this man—conventional, uninteresting, prosaic. And one might meet them any day, just as she had met him this morning in the garden, without expecting it.

She woke before the birds with something singing itself through the darkness—“Ward Allen, Ward Allen,” it rang—like little bells in the dark—“Ward Allen—Ward Allen.” She smiled to herself with quick joy and turned again and slept. When she wakened again the birds had taken up the sound. Tom, in the bathroom beyond, whistled it merrily. The children laughed it outside the door. It was a name of joy—a new friend. She had never had a friend—except Tom and the children. She threw open the blind and let in the light.

HE feet of the summer were winged. They brought swift messages. As the days flitted by, she had glimpses of a world of men and women and life—a world of insights, things unspoken, tranquil dreams and passion. She caught her breath sometimes.... The newness of it hurt her, and the sense that she had missed it always—without knowing. Then she grew wonted to it, accustomed to wake to a full day and to sleep between life and life. In and out of it, Ward Allen moved in careless, friendly ease. There was no question of him. He made no demands on her or on Tom. He was part of the swift new summer.

Then, one night, the moment came. She had been pacing the veranda, a smile of happy thought on her lips. Suddenly she paused. All about her, from side to side, stretched a glow, rosé-red and still. She gazed into it with startled eyes. In the midst lay something uncovered, mysterious.... She peered forward and faced a naked soul. She shrank back with a cry, back—back to the side of the house, covering her eyes.

When she came to herself the darkness lay about her, warm and breathing. With a sure instinct she turned to the open door and went swiftly up the stairs. At the door of the children's room she paused. Then she passed in and turned up the gas, softly, shading the light from sleeping cots. They lay tossed about in the warm night with hair moist and faces fresh She bent above them, smoothing the crumpled sheet and drawing pillows straight. A murmured, drowsy, response came to her—half words, out of dreamland, protest and the quiet sigh of relief—long-drawn and passing into sleep. She stood looking at them, looking.... So this was what it meant—this was what it had always meant. This was what other women faced—what they put in books. She turned sharply about to the light. Her hands were clasped behind her back and a little line was drawn between her eyes.

She was thinking fast—faster than the summer had flown.... She—Mary Earle—she had done this thing! Her gaze was deep on it. Slowly the look softened. It was a sweet, familiar thing.... It was not a sin. They could not call it sin! She must think fast.... How was it? What had she done? She was walled about by it. Was there no way? Her breath tightened. A sound from the bed caught her ear and she turned about.

Little Mary was sitting up, holding out fretful hands.

“I'm firsty,” she said sleepily.

Mary brought the water and stood over her, smoothing the hot head on the pillow. The child opened her eyes and looked up—out of unfathomable dreams—at her mother. “Rockaby,” she said, holding up her arms.

Mary gathered the groping hands in her own, patting them gently. “Not to-night,” she said.

“Rockaby!” said the child imperiously.

Mary bent to her and gathered her up, lifting her from the bed. She threw a light shawl over the little figure and bore it down the stairs.... This is what she had come for. She could think now. Her arms did not reach out to blankness. They held the child close.

She carried it to the library. It was cooler there. She drew forward the big chair by the table and sat down. The light from the hall came in faintly. It fell on her and on the table covered with books—his books and hers and Tom's. Her eye traced them idly as she rocked..That was the new book on architecture that Tom brought home last night. He was going to enlarge the wing. Where would she be when it was done?

She shivered a little and drew the child's shawl closer. Her eyes probed the books.... It ought not to come to one like this—without warning.... It suffocated her. She could not turn. Subtle coils tightened about her—one more turn and she would be fast. She stayed her breath, steadying herself against it. Slowly her heart settled to silence. The child's head rested lightly on it. The rockers had ceased to move. The big room loomed about her, shadowy.... It was not wrong—this thing in her heart, beneath the child. It was wonderful, mysterious, far-reaching—but not wrong.... She had never given it to Tom. It would never be his. But it was not wrong. Her heart rose and sang.... The books did not know. They were false. She was not a guilty creature—lost to her children and her husband. She held the thought of Tom firmly before her. Dear, blundering Tom! She was not false to him. Was a woman's heart so small a thing? She patted the head lying against her shoulder softly. Her heart had gone out to each new child with abounding love—but different for each. If she had not known him—Ward—Ward Allen—she would have missed a part of life—of loving.

She raised her eyes.

He was standing there, across the room, looking at her.

He came forward quickly: “Don't get up.”

He drew forward a chair: “I did not see you. I came in to wait for Tom.'

“He has not come.” Her eyes met his bravely.

“No. I will wait. Is she ill?” He motioned to the sleeping child.

“Only restless. She wanted to rockaby. I was going to take her upstairs.”

She did not stir, and they sat in silence. It was the familiar silence into which they often fell. Out of its mazes Mary tried to picture herself as the world would see her—if it knew. A guilty thing! She smiled a little in the dimness.

He looked at her: “What is it?”

Her answer may have halted a minute, but it came winged: “I was thinking how much I love you and how wicked the world would think I am.”

He leaned back motionless. After a long moment he spoke: “You will not be sorry.”

“No! I am glad every day—glad! I shall always be glad!' The words broke forth. They almost sang to him.

He rose slowly. “Yes, you will be glad—” He held out his hand. “Good- night, dear—good-by.”

Her hands were busy with the child, gathering it up. She did not look at him.

The child opened sleepy eyes. “'Night, Uncle Ward,” she said dreamily.

“Good-night, little girl.” He bent above her for a minute. Then he straightened himself. “You won't let it sadden you.”

She shook her head: “I am afraid I can't.” A smile held her lips. “I can't even feel guilty. I know I ought to—”

They turned. Tom's step was in the hall. He came in, holding out both hands: “Hallo, Ward. Just in time. Is she sick?” He turned to the child.

“She wanted her mother.” Mary's hand was on the tumbled head. Her eyes looked at the two men over it. “Ward's going away, Tom,” she said slowly. “He's going because I love him. I've just told him so. We want you to know it.”

The man looked from one to the other with hesitating perception. His slow bulk lifted itself. He loomed large beside them. “Don't joke, Mary,” he said. He had taken her hand protectingly.

“I'm not joking, Tom.” Her fingers closed about the big ones. “You've always loved him, you know.” She looked at him wistfully. If he failed them—

He nodded: “Yes, I've always loved Ward.” His eyes sought the other man's. “I've always loved him,” he repeated thoughtfully.

“And I've just begun to love him,” said Mary. “That's all.”

They moved apart by common consent. The balance of the moment hung poised.

The child lifted sleepy hands. “Muvver,” she breathed, and fell asleep again.

Above the child's head her eyes sought the two men. A sombre humor held their depths. “I am telling you the truth,” she said simply, “I know I ought not to say it. I ought to cling to Tom loyally, and eat out my heart in secret for Ward. But I don't feel that way. I love you both, and”—her voice grew deeply tender—“I love little Mary. And, please God”—the words broke with a little laugh—“I shall love a good many others before I die.'

The two men smiled—Ward subtly, Tom with a slow light in the eyes that watched her. “It's all right, Mary,” he said assuringly. “What you say goes.'

“It goes,” said the other in a deeper tone.

She lifted the child on her arm and held out a hand to him, swiftly:

“Good-night, Ward, and good-by. Some day you will come back.”

He moved away in the shadows. Only his voice came to them from the darkness.... “Good-by. Yes—I shall come.” His footsteps retreated faintly, dying away on the gravel walk outside.

She laid the child in his arms. “Carry her for me, Tom,” she said; “I am tired.”

He bent and kissed her. He kissed the child. “I feel as if something black had gone by us,” he said, thrusting his hand toward the darkness.

She took it in her own, drawing it about her close. “It has made a poet of you, Tom.” She laughed softly and moved toward the door. “Come away,” she said. “Come. We will keep it in the light.”

title: On the Face of the Waters


text: Talk:On the Face of the Waters

title: Talk:On the Face of the Waters