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two types—the new type, highly qualified, official, administrative, scientific, public-spirited; the old type, capitalistic, with a pretentious house and equipment, the doctor with a brougham, and a dispensary, the schoolmaster or schoolmistress with some huge old stucco house converted by jerry-built extensions to meet scholastic needs. Who would not rather, one may ask, choose the former way who was not already irrevocably committed to the latter? Well, I with my Socialist dreams would like to answer “No one,” but I’m learning to check my buoyant optimism. The imagination and science in a young man may cry out for the public position, for the valiant public work, for the hard, honourable, creative years. He may sit with his fellow-students and his fellow-workers in a nocturnal cloud of tobacco smoke and fine talk, and vow himself to research and the creative world state. In the morning he will think he has dreamed; he will recall what the world is, what Socialists are, what he has heard wild Socialists say

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(Continued in next issue.)

She put out her hand impetchussly and ses she:

"I'll meet you in the hall," she said, as she went out.

Isilda hid her face again in his bosom, and burst into a shower of tears.

At the wooden entrance gate he paused. The vicarage front door stood open, and across the rough gravel sweep he could see into the hall--see

"You're forgetting the Note."

“It always entices me, for it is the way to my home. I live at Eleusis.”

She hesitated, her hand outstretched.

familiar, a matter of habit? He was not in love with her, but he might be when he knew her better. At present he knew absolutely nothing about her inner life. They had never talked about anything but games for more than a minute at a time....

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1.8

2."That they will not," Hartford said. "They are certain they will die if they inhale a breath of Kansas air, chew a bite of Kansas food, drink your clear stream water. I was certain I would die when my safety-suit was torn: remember our meeting, Takeko-san? It will not be easy to persuade my brothers and sisters in the Barracks to forget their fears. We are so sure, we Axenites, that contamination will kill us that we'd rather dance with lightning and eat stones than walk this world unprotected and eat its fruits."

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第六个国家公祭日

A. T. Cordray, of London, Ohio, is willing to dispose of a six-year-old sorrel gelding that has never been started, but will go if given a chance. Read his ad. in this issue.

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They drove along, faster and faster, until they came to a great portal, and out into the blinding radiance of a molten copper sky.

冰雪奇缘2

“Tell me more about that collie you lost,” he urged. “How’d he die? What was his breeding? Ever show him?”

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The high official unrolled the scroll. The Thrid around him, wearing Witness hats, became utterly silent. The high official made a sound equivalent to clearing his throat. The stillness became death-like.

梦回

Why not?

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