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The prisoners listened eagerly from the hollowed-out cave. The mockup on the ground was in a miniature valley between sections of taller stone. It could be seen from above, but not well from the side. From one end it could not be seen at all, but from the other it was a remarkable job. It would deceive any eyes not very close indeed.
“‘I reckon he is,’ said I, for I knew very well there wa’n’t none in my barn. ‘That’s strange,’ I went on, ‘but you kno’ what I said.’
The appearance of the feminine mind and soul in the world as something distinct and self-conscious, is the appearance of a distinct new engine of criticism against the individualist family, against this dwindling property of the once-ascendant male—who no longer effectually rules, no longer, in many cases, either protects or sustains, who all too often is so shorn of his beams as to be but a vexatious power of jealous restriction and interference upon his wife and children. The educated girl resents the proposed loss of her freedom in marriage, the educated married woman realizes as well as resents the losses of scope and interest marriage entails. If it were not for the economic disadvantages that make intelligent women dread a solitary old age in bitter poverty, vast numbers of women who are married to-day would have remained single independent women. This discontent of women is a huge available force for Socialism. The wife of the past was, to put it
The fact about the Sicilian seems to be, however, not that he is, as is sometimes said of the Negro, unmoral, but that the moral code by
"Of nothing. I complain of nothing, save perhaps of your ignorance of me! Ah, good heavens did you know me so little as to think that your happiness was not my aim, not so much my own? Did you not know that my love for you was so little selfish, that if I had had the least dream of your engagement to this young man, I should have taken such delight in forwarding it and providing for you both? You would have been near me still, you would have been a daughter to me, and---- Lift me up the cordial--quick!" and he fell back in a faint.
I do not remember when I first met him, and I do not think I have any special anecdotes to relate about him. But, in thinking of him now, and reviewing our friendly acquaintanceship of eight or ten years, I recall that I have never been able to persuade him to take me seriously. He has printed all the articles I have sent him, but he has always laughed indulgently at both them and me. I cannot help wondering why. Perhaps his exasperatingly 258clever son has betrayed the secrets I have entrusted to him: the facts that my piano-playing is amateurish, my scholarship nil, and my ear fatally defective. And I think I once showed McNaught, jun., some of my compositions. One should never show (but of course I mean “show off”) one’s compositions when one cannot compose.
"On Titan, sir."
2.Bone-weary, Hartford went from the Syphon to the refresher-room, where he checked his safety-suit and hung it.>
ciety he lived in suited him well enough. He shared cheerfully in all the amusements of his little set—rode, played polo, hunted and drove his four-in-hand with the best of them (you will see, by the last allusion, that we were still in the archaic ’nineties). Nor could I guess what other occupations he would have preferred, had he been given his choice. In spite of my admiration for him I could not bring myself to think it was Leila Gracy who had subdued him to what she worked in. What would he have chosen to do if he had not met her that night at the play? Why, I rather thought, to meet and marry somebody else just like her. No; the difference in him was not in his tastes—it was in something ever so much deeper. Yet what is deeper in a man than his tastes?
But it is a very different matter when the author of a book like mine ventures, as I have done for sufficient reasons but at the same time with regret, to sit in judgment on the works of men of research and experts, who belong to our own time and who exert a lively influence on their generation. In this case the author can no longer appeal to the consentient opinion of his contemporaries; he finds them divided into parties, and involuntarily belongs to a party himself. But it is a still more weighty consideration that he may subsequently change his own point of view, and may arrive at a more profound insight into the value of the works which he has criticised; continued study and maturer years may teach him that he overestimated some things fifteen or twenty years ago and perhaps undervalued others, and facts, once assumed to be well established, may now be acknowledged to be incorrect.