Evening Star Newspaper, December 8, 1929, Page 109

. TON, - D. C. DECEMBER 8, 1929, diot!” @ e g 4 - terfly fares -intrepidly and joyously, with the sun for his torchboy, through =a universe wherein thought cannot estimate the unimpor- tance of a butterfly, and wherein not even the chaste moon is very important, -~ - “¥es, certainly I would advise you to have + done with this vanity of courts and masques, + of satins and .fans' and fiddles, this dallying - with tinsels and ‘bright vapors e ‘Come. live -with me and be my fi;'e.' o we :will all- the pleasures prove -« . “Woods-or steepy mountain yields. - And-see-the -shepherds -foed their flocks ' ° By shallow rivers, to -whose falls . .. ¢ + . ‘But the girl shook.her small, ;wise 1 -am-afreid, give.me what. all. majds reglly, . - - im.pheir. heart-of hearts, desire far more than = + DY - Sugar=candy, . Aresdia. Oh, as I have 30 ... - often told. you, Kit, I.think you.loxe no. woman. ...+¥ou love words.. And your seraglio is tenpnted’ +;by very beautiful .words,.I grant you, though - there is no. longer any Sestos builded of agate . and crystgl, either, Kit Marlowe, . Por, as you - ... may. pereeive, sir, I have read all that lovely poem.you left, with me—-' 35 Taa e She, saw. how ul‘ntel'ut«l he ‘was, saw. how e - almost smirked. .“Aha, so you think it not quite bad, eh, the conclusion of my ‘Hero wnd Leander’?” . | i i a g s . “It s ‘your pest.” And yoirr middlemost, my poet, 15 better than aught else in English,” the said politely, and, knowing how much he delighted to hear such remarks. - . . “Come, I retract: my charge of foolishness, for you are plainly a wench of rare discrimina- tion. And yet ycu say I do not love you!” " “And I wonder how much of these ardors,” she thought, “is kindled by my “praise of his verses?” She bit her lip and she regarded - him with 'a hint of sadness. She said, aloud: “But I did not, after all, speak to Lord Peven- sey concerning the printing of your poem. In- stead, 1 burned your ‘Hero and Leander'.” SHE saw. him jump, as under a whip-lash, %7 Then he smiled again, in that wry fashion of his. .“I lament the loss of letters, for it was my only copy. But you.knew that.” . may ohe atk?” : < Just & moment. ‘ Then' he grimaced + -+ “Noy I ot wrohg--the tragedy stfikes “Yes, Kit, I knew it was your only copy.” “Oho! and for what reason did you burn it, “I thought you loved it more than you loved me. - It was my rival, I thought——" The girl was conscious of remorse, and yet it was re- morse commingled with a mounting joy~ -<“And'so you thought a jingle scribbled -upon & bit of paper: could b: your rival:with me!” Then Cynthia no longer doubted, but gave s joyous lMitle sobbing laugh, for the love of her. disréputable dear ‘poet was' sustaining the stringent- tésting she *had devised. She touched his freckled hand caressingly, and her face "'was as no fnan had ever seen it, anid: her voice, 100, caresséd him. 4 : “Ah, you have made me the happiest of women, Kit! -Kit, I #m almost disappointed in_you; though, that you'do not grieve more for the' Joss of ‘that beautiful poem.” . His smilipg did not- waver; yet the lean, red-haired man stayed motionless. “Do I ap- pear perturbed,” hé said. “Why, but see how ‘lightly 1 take the destruction of my life-work in this, my masterpiece! For I can assure you it was a masterpiece, -the fruit of two years’ toil and of much loving repolishment——" “Ah, but you love me better than such mat- ters, do you not?” she asked him, tenderly. “Kit Marlowe, I adore you! Sweetheart, do you not understand that a woman wants to be loved utterly and entirely? She wants no .rivals, - not even paper rivals. And so often when you talked of poetry I have felt lonely and chilled and far away from you, and I have been half envious, dear, of your Heroes and your Helens, and your other good-for-nothing Greek minxes. But now I do not mind them at all. And I will make amends, quite prodigal amends, for my naughty jealousy; and my poet shall write me some more lovely poems, so he shall——" He said, “You fool!” And she drew away frem hin, for he was no longer smiling. “¥Yecu burned my ‘Hero and Leander'! you big-eyed fool! You lisping idiot! you wriggling, cuddling worm! Had not even you the wit to perceive it was importal beauty which would have lived long after you and I? And you, a half-witted animal, a shining, chat- tering parrot, lay claws to it!” Marlowe had risen in a sort of seizure, in a condition which was really quite unreasonable when you con- sidered that only a poem was at stake, even a rather long poem. And Cynthia began to smile, with tremulous hurt-looking young lips. “So my poet's love is very much the same as Pevensey's love! And I was right, after all.” “What do you care for my ideals? What do you care for the ideals of that tall ear] whom you have held from his proper business for a fortnight? Or for the ideals of any man alive? Why, not one thread of that dark hair, not one snap of those white little fingers, ex- cept when ideals irritate you by distracting a You! man’s attention from Cynthia Allonby. Other-. wise, he 1s welcome enough to play with his incomprehensible toys.” He jerked a thumb toward the shelves be- hind him. . "“Oho, you pretty ladies! what all you value is ‘such matters as those cups: ‘they. please the eye, they are worth . sound and you cherish your shiny mud cups, and you . burn my ‘Hero and Leander': and I declaim all this dull nonsense,. .over- the ashes - of my _ruined dreams, thinking . at: bottom -of how pretty you are, and of how much.I would like %o, kiss you.. That, js. the, real. tragedy, . the -im- that L . should. still' hanker ‘The root of-it is that: 4 ] nor to-hurt snything, but just a - invincible ‘meéaning ] i 2 2 ‘stupldity, .informiing” a ‘bright £ my harsh words: and- I musts™ hint of reproach, endeavor to bid you' a sckie- what more- civil farewell,” - < -/ e i I R X SHE had regarded him; throughout this- pre- posterous and uncslled-for ‘harangue, with' sad ‘eomposure, ‘with a forgiving pity. - Now ‘she asked him, very quletly, “Where: are you - “To,the Golden Hind, O gentle, patient and unjustly persecuted virgin martyr!” he an- swered, with an exaggerated bow—*singce that ° is the part in which you now elect. to posture.” . “Not to that low, vile place againt™ ., “But certainly I intend in that tavern to get tipsy as quickly as possible: for then the first woman I see will for the time become the woman whom I desire, and who exists no- where.” And with that the-red-haired .man departed, limping and-singing as he went to look for a trull in a pot-house. © She sat quite ‘still when Marlowe had gone. “He. will get drunk again,” she -thought despondently. “Well, and why should it mat- ter to me if he does, after all that outrageous ranting? He has been unforgivably insulting— Oh, but none the less, I do not want to have him babbling of the roces and gold of that impossible fairy world which the poor, frantic : there-is 'in ‘you“and " - 8l yeur glittering- kind no malice; 6 ‘will % @nd, .upon “the " whole,’ without ' any ° A~ delientely “scented - aninsal. 5o :. Y = child really believes in, to some painted woman of the town who will laugh at him. I loathe. .. the thought of her laughing at him—and Wrissirig him! His notions.are wild foolithness; but I at least wish that they were not housl\meu. and that hateful woman will not eare one way or the other,”. .. £ y _ So Cynthia sighed; and to comfort her for- lorn condition fetched a hand-mirror from the shelves whereon- glowed her - green. cups. - She' touched _éach cup caressingly in pessing; " .and that ‘which she found in the mixror, too, she regarded not unappreciatively, from vary- Yes, after all’ dark hair and a pale skin had their advantages at a- court where pink and yellow women were so much the fashion as to be common. Men remembered you more distinctively. . Though nobody eared for men, - in view of their unreasonable behavior, and thefr absolute self-centeredness. . .- . Still, there was a queer pleasure in being - wooed by Kit: his insane notions went to one's head like wine. She would send Meg for him again tomcrrow. And Pevensey was, of course, the best match imaginable. . . . No, it would - bz too heartless to dismiss George Bulmer out- right. It was unreasonable of him to desert her because a Gascon threatened to go to mass; but, after all, she would probably marry George in the end. He was really almost unendurably :illy, though, about England and freedom and religion, and right and wrong things like that. Yes; it would be tedious to have a husband who often talked to you as though he were addressing a public meet- N UT now the sun had set, and the room was growing quite dark. So Cynthia -stood a-tiptoe, and replaced the mirror upon the shelves, setting it upright behind those won- derful green cups which had anew reminded her of Pevensey's wealth and generosity. She smiled a little, to think of what fun ‘it had been to hold Gecrge back, for two whole weeks, from discharging that old queen’s stupid er- rands. X The door opened. Stalwart young Capt. Ed- ward Musgrave came with a lighted candle, which he placed carefully upon the table in the room's center. He said: “They told me you were here. come from London. I bring news for you.” “You bring no pleasant tidings, I fear——" “As Lord Pevensey rode through the Strand this afterncon, on his way home, the Plague smote him. That is my sad news.” . “Ah,” Cynthia said, very quiet, “so Pevensey is dead. But the Plague kills quickly!” “Yes, yes, that is a comfort, certainly. Yes, he turhed quite black in the face, they re- port, and before his men could reach him had fallen from his horse. It was all over almost instantly. I saw him afterward, hardly a pleasant sight. I came to you as soon as I could. I was vexatiously detained——" . “So George Bulmer is dead, in a London gutter! It seems strange, beeause he was here, befriended b! monarchs, and very strong and handsome; and self-confident, hardly two hours ago. Is that his blood upon your sleevz?” . “But of course not! I told you I was vex- atiously detained,. almost at your.gates, . Yes, I bad 182 ill luck to blunder into & disgusting business. 'The. two .rapscallions tumbled out of a doorway under my horse’s very nose, egad! It was a near thing'I did not ride them down. So I stopped, natyrally. I regretted stopping, afterward;: for I, was too late to be of help. ’ It was 'at:the. Golden Hind, of course. = Some- .thing really ought to be done about that place. . Yes, and that rogue Marler bled all over a new doublet, as you.see.. And.the Deptford con- « staples held me with. their foolish interrog- I « “So_oge of.the fighting men. was Marlowel. Is he .dead, + ° Marlowe or Marler, or something of .the sort, .., - —wrote plays and sonnets and.such sfufl, they . . tell me. ‘I do:not knaw anything. about im— .. though, .I give. you. my ,word now, those. -38_most annoying. . At all gvents, he was drunk - © your presence, was. saying, . this_other .drunker- rascal dug » knife into him—" .- ... . - .But_now.. 16 ..Captain, Musgrave's discoms . . Allonby had . begun ~ to weep . + - 10Kt Gynth S o A W P e , wipy ' ‘. back of her-hand. ..“It is.a great.shock to . you, naturally—oh, most naturally, and does you . great credit. But come now, Pevensey is.gone,.. ... %5 we must ajl g0, some. day, nd. our tears x .eannot bring him back, my dear.” - 2 - “Oh, Ned, but people are so cruel. - Peopie will be saying that it was I who kept poor Cousin George in London this past two weeks, and that but for me he ‘would have béen in France long -ago.’ 'And then the Quéen, ‘Ned!-— why,. that pig-headed old woman will - be" blaming #t on me, 'that there is nobody to' prevent that detestablé French King from turn- ing Catholic and’ dragging England into’ new “wars, and I shall not be able to g0 t6 any of the court dances! nor {o the masque!” sobbed Cynthia; “nor. anywhere!” R S “Now you talk ' tender-hearted and angelic nonsense. Tt is noble of you to feel that way, of course. But Pevensey did not take proper care of himself, and that is all there is to it. ‘- “'Now I"have remafried in London since' the plague’s outbreak. I stayed with my regiment, naturdlly.” We ‘have had a few deaths, of course. People die everywhere. - But the plague has never bothered me. And why has it never bothered me? Simply because I was sensible, took the pains to consult arr astrologer, emorial Award Swories % BY JAMES BRANCH CABELL L Speed s 13 e and by his adviee wear about my neck, night -and day, a bag eof dried toad's blood and pow- dered cinpamon.. It s an . infallible specific for men born in Pebruary.. No, not for &a: moment do I wish to speak harshly of the dead;" but sensible . persons. éannot ; but Jcon- ... sider Lord - Pevensey's death to “have .'been: '+ caused by his own careléssness.”. ' - . - “Neow, certainly that is true,”: the girl said, - brightening. .“It was really hi aqm eareless. .. ness, and his .dear,. lovgble:‘tashiess. " And. somebody- could explain it to-te Qugen. Be-. sides; I -often think that wers’ are §éod -for | the public_spirit of a nation,. snd bring. out’ its -true. manhood.- Bu thien it jupsét. me,’/t6o, a‘litjle; Ned, to hear~about MATIOWg— -.yery slightly, “Se I happen to kriow. that today. " he flung ‘off in .rege, and began drinkirig;be- '\ cause somebody, almost. by .pure .aecident, had burned & packet of his verses——"' ' - ¥ & " Thereupon Capt. . Musgrave raised heavy . eyebrows, and guffawed so heartily that. the candle - flickered. “To think "of the’ fellow's ' putting it on that plea! ‘when he could .50 easily have written some more verses. .That is - the trouble with these poets, if you ask me: they are not practical even in their ordinary, everyday lying. No, no, the truth of it was that the rogue wanted a-pretext for making a beast-of himself, and seized the first that came to hand.” Cynthia was locking at him in the half-Ht room with very flattering admiration. » -8 Seen thus, with her scarlet lips a little parted— disclosing pearls—and with her naive dark eyes aglow, shc was quite incredibly pretty and caressable. She had almost forgotten until now- that this stalwart roldier, too, was in love with her, But now her spirits were rising venturously, and shz knew that she lik>d Ned Musgrave. He had sensible notions; he saw things as they really were, and with him thesre would never b2 any nonsense about top-lofty ideas. Then, too, her dear old white-haired father would be pleased, because there was a very fair estate. SO CYNTHIA said: “I believe you are right, Ned. I often wonder how they can be so lacking in self-respect. Oh, I am certain you must be right, for it is just what I felt withouf being able to quite express it. You will stay for supper with us, of courss. Yes, but you must, because it is always a great comfort for me to talk with really sensible persons. I do not wonder that you are not very eager to stay, though, for I am probably a fright, with my eyes red, and with my hair all tumbling down, like an old witch's. Well, let us see what can be done about it, sir! There was a hand- mirror——"" And thus speaking, she tripped, with very much the reputed grace of a fairy, toward the far end of the room, and standing a-tiptoe, groped at the obscure shelves, with a resultant crash of falling china. : " “Oh, but my lovely cups!” said Cynthia, in dismay. “I had forgotten they were up there: and now I have smashed both of them, in - looking for my mirror, sir, and trying to pret- fifly myself for you. And I had so fancied them, because they had not their like in Eng- land!” : She looked at the fragments, .and then at . Musgrave, with wide, innocent” hurt: eyes. She « was hotiestly grieved by the loss of her quaint «toys. . But. Musgrave, in his sturdy, common- sense way, only.laughed at her seriousness over <o “T-am for an henest ~t . .7 myself!” he said, jovially, as the two.went i®.%0. % supper. A N WPl T wie * e R P A DYNAMITE np;.hnm npt- travel far B g . ‘just. ahead of the burnlm_ gases, can be seew-. LY recqrder, is equipped, with two ‘wires. threaded ‘through .the.explogive in . such & manner that the, interval elapsing be-. fow o tween: the time of. breaking.of each is: recorded- upon a revolving and smoked.drum. -.:, . g . In. another. method . recently developed the- explosive is-placed-bebind. a narrew. slgt.-eut: in - ++» & sheet of armor plate and-the detonation pree- ess ‘is .photographed- . by -its..own light on a rapidly. moving: ‘film. - This -method. has - the . . delonation wave at -every point along - the " . column of explosive. . . P S .- The speed “of -explosion ' in ‘dynamite'sof the gelatinous nature . varies with_ the deégiee of- . restraint to which it is subjected. - A column . . .of gelatin confined in a steel tube. will explode severgl thousand meters a” second faster thah ° that .which is exploded in the open. Much ..valuable information for 'those Handling - ex-. .plosives is being developed by means of thesd speed_ tests. : St - Home Econemics Gains. - - HE Bureau of Homé Enonomics of ‘the De- partinent of Agriculture, which is engaged iri research work in an effort to better home conditions, now has grown to the point that it " nuimbers 60 workers on its rolls, more tham _are specialists with' professional - €lothing dre - experts. ' half of whom training. Food, nutrition and partieularly being' studied by the for 1, must fell you that T knew thie’poor mam,: = . earthenware. fankard. :.. |