temporaries had been in the war, others—how many!—had stood aside. I recall especially the shock with which, at school, I had heard a boy explain his father’s lameness: “He’s never got over that shot in the leg he got at Chancellorsville.”


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They dressed for dinner that night because Oswald came back tired and vexed from London and wanted a bath before dining. They seemed to be sending everybody to East Africa on the principle that any one whos been there 453before ought not to go again, he grumbled. I cant see any other principle in it. He talked at first of the coming East African campaign because he hesitated to ask Peter what he intended to do. Then he went on to the war news. The Germans had got Lige. That was certain now. They had smashed the forts to pieces with enormous cannon. There had been a massacre of civilians at Dinant. Joan did not talk very much, but sat and watched Peter closely with an air of complete indifference.

Socialism commends itself to a considerable proportion of the working class simply as a beneficial change in the conditions of work and employment; to other sections of the community it presents itself through equally limited aspects. Certain ways of living it seems to condemn root and branch. To the stockbroker and many other sorts of trader, to the usurer, to the company promoter, to the retired butler who has invested his money in “weekly property,” for example, it stands for the dissolution of all comprehensible social order. It simply repudiates the way of living to which they have committed themselves.

One of the last things that A-bra-ham Lin-coln did ere he said good-bye to his Spring-field home was to go down to see the good old step-moth-er who did so much for him when he was a poor, sad boy. Proud in-deed, was she of the lad she had reared with so much care, but she felt that there were hard days to come to him. She told him that she feared she should not see him a-gain. She said “They will kill you; I know they will.”

“Good marning Delia” ses Mrs. Bang (the widdy acrost the strate) “Is anny wan at home?”

It was only during the last ten days that Mr. Kennard had sought Mrs. Coventry's company. As a rule he consorted chiefly with the "smarter" portion of society in the station, the English

“I cannot explain them,” said he, “but I would 53certainly like you to understand them, for it seems to me that you are not unintelligent.”

Coventry was beside himself with passion, for it seemed to him that his honour, his home, his name was besmirched. He felt humiliated, wronged; and the primitive sense of outraged possession had him in its grip. Nothing could ever be the same again between his wife and himself. It was all he could do not to strike her as she stood there, white, and fair, and weak, at


[Pg 151]

Talking was not to be encouraged during this secret night trip up along the strip of coast stretching between the camps of the Australian and the New Zealand contingents of the fighting Territorials. If there arose any necessity for exchanging remarks, great care was to be taken to whisper in the lowest tone possible.

Price: The price at present ranges from a hundred and fifty to a hundred and seventy-five dollars, probably about a hundred and sixty for Cavalry horses; Artillery horses being somewhat higher, one hundred and sixty-five to one hundred and eighty dollars.

1.He bowed them both to the door.

2.After a long moment he turned his senses from the Earthman. "Incredible—but it's true enough," he said. "I'd better report. Watch him," he added, but that was surely unnecessary. Their job was to watch McCray, and they would do their job; and even more, not one of them could have looked away to save his life from the spectacle of a creature as odd and, from their point of view, hideously alien as Herrell McCray.


With Lee’s ar-my at Rich-mond, the on-ly oth-er large force of the foe was led by John-ston in the south. Sher-man with a lar-ger force made a move a-gainst it, and af-ter much fight-ing John-ston took his stand at At-lan-ta. He had fought with much skill, but the South failed to see this, and put Gen. Hood in his place. Hood was rash, and Sher-man soon forced him to leave At-lan-ta. From At-lan-ta, Sher-man set out on his great “March through Geor-gi-a,” burn-ing At-lan-ta when he left, so that it might not a-gain be a ref-uge for the foe.


“It was a word from the invisible, unapproachable Spirit of the universe.”


but with a secondary importance. Socialism is the still incomplete, the still sketchy and sketchily indicative plan of a new life for the world, a new and better way of living, a change of spirit and substance from the narrow selfishness and immediacy and cowardly formalism, the chaotic life individual accident that is human life to-day, a life that dooms itself and all of us to thwartings and misery. Socialism, therefore, is to be served by thought and expression, in art, in literature, in scientific statement and life, in discussion and the quickening exercise of propaganda; but the Socialist movement, as one finds it, is too often no more than a hasty attempt to secure a premature realization of some fragmentary suggestion of this great, still plastic design, to the neglect of all other of its aspects. As my own sense of Socialism has enlarged and intensified, I have become more and more impressed by the imperfect Socialism of almost every Socialist movement that is going on; by its necessarily partial and limited projection from the clotted


[pg 43]


“What,” he cried in indignation, “Did you not promise to become my bride when Thermopylæ’s traitor would be revealed by me?”

. . .