Volume I Part 5 (2/2)

but the sun rose and sank even as before

And that vague Soers a little while within the toered and drea-place where they had laid him with the pious hope--_Que en paz descanse_!

Yet so weary of his life had the Wanderer been, that the repose of the dead was not for him And while the body shrank and sank into dust, the phantoht dimly to himself: ”I am even too weary to find peace!”

There was a thin crevice in the ancient wall of the toh the meshes of the web that a spider had woven athwart it, the dead looked and beheld the a in the ind,--and the opaline glow of the horizon,--and fair pools bearing ies of cypresses inverted,--and the birds that flitted fro,--and flowers in the shadow of the sepulchres And the vast bright world seemed to him not so hateful as before

Likewise the sounds of life assailed the faint senses of the dead through the thin crevice in the wall of the to of the city's heart; so converse and steps,--echoes ofof children at play,--and the liquid babble of the beautiful brooth and joy, and the litheness of limbs to be loved: also of that which had been, and of that which ht have been, and of that which now could never be And he longed at last to live again--seeing that there was no rest in the toolden fire; and blue nights unnuo shadows; and the perfume of the summer passed like a breath of incenseand the dead within the sepulchre could not wholly die

Stars in their courses peered down through the crevices of the tomb, and twinkled, and passed on; winds of the sea shrieked to hi above hiht lizards that ran noiselessly over his bed of stone, as noiselessly departed; the spider at last ceased to repair her web of silk; years came and ith lentor inexpressible; but for the dead there was no rest!

And after many tropicalin the land, filling the golden air with tender drowsiness and passional perfuely came to pass that _She_ whose name had been murmured by his lips when the Shadow of Death fell upon him, came to that city of palms, and even unto the ancient place of sepulture, and unto the tomb that bore his name

And he knew the whisper of her raiment--knew the sweetness of her presence--and the pallid hearts of the blossoms of a plant whose blind roots had found food within the crevice of the toed and flushed, and fla it not--passed by; and the sound of her footstep died away forever

To his own, and perhaps other ible, but to those still young enough, as he himself then was, to credit passion with a potency not only to survive ”the gradual furnace of the world” but even to blosso as always does to the young the dry and sapless wisdolingly credible Yearningly desirous that the brief flower of life may never fade, such a cry finds an echo in the very roots of their inexperienced hearts The sement rejected, was perhaps less faulty than its author believed it to be in later years

It was to my juvenile admiration for this particular bit of work that I owed the privilege ofthe foundation of a close friendshi+p which lasted without a break until the day of his death

He was at this time a most unusual and ht, with unusually broad and powerful shoulders for such a stature, there was an alhtness in his step and movements His feet were small and well shaped, but he wore invariably the lected shoes, and his whole dress was peculiar His favourite coat, both winter and summer, was a heavy double-breasted ”reefer,” while the size of his wide-bri his friends The rest of his garments were apparently purchased for the sake of durability rather than beauty, with the exception of his linen, which, even in days of the direst poverty, was always fresh and good Indeed a peculiar physical cleanliness was characteristic of hies and wild ani so essential and innate as to roomed men and domesticated beasts seem almost frowzy by contrast His hands were very delicate and supple, with quick timid movements that were yet full of charm, and his voice was musical and very soft He spoke always in short sentences, and the manner of his speech was very modest and deferential His head was quite remarkably beautiful; the profile both bold and delicate, with ad of the nose, lips and chin The broas square, and full above the eyes, and the complexion a clear smooth olive The enored beyond its natural size the eye upon which he depended for sight, but originally, before the accident,--whose disfiguring effect he eratedly sensitive about,--his eyes e, of a dark liquid brown, and heavily lashed In conversation he frequently, almost instinctively, placed his hand over the injured eye to conceal it froh he was abnorers and women, this was not obvious in any aardness of h extremely silent and reserved until his confidence was obtained With those whom he loved and trusted his voice and , though with even these soesture would alarht be invisible for days or weeks, appearing again as silently and suddenly, with no explanation of his having so abruptly taken wing In spite of his liht he appeared to have the power to divine by soe of expression in the faces of those hom he talked, and no object or tint escaped his observation One of his habits while talking was to walk about, touching softly the furnishi+ngs of the roo up slass, andout a streaetic tone, with constant deference to the opinions of his companions Any idea advanced he received with respect, however estion appealed to hihtful irradiation of pleasure, and he never forgot it

A htful or--at times--more fantastically witty coine, but it is equally i sensitiveness To reood terms with him it was necessary to be as patient and wary as one who stalks the herer or harshness to any one drove hiht, any story ofaway, and a look of ennui or resented in while his back was turned, was immediately conveyed to his consciousness in some occult fashi+on and he was off in an instant Any atteth of his absence A description of his eccentricities ofif the result were to convey an impression of neurotic debility, for with this extreour of ree--the delicacy was only of the spirit

Mrs Lylie Harris of New Orleans, one of his intimate friends at this time, in an article written after his death, speaks of his friendshi+p with the children of her family, hom he was an affectionate playfellow, and hom he was entirely confident and at his ease An equally friendly and confident relation existed between hiro woman who cared for his rooms (as clean and plain as a soldier's), and indeed all his life he was happiest with the young and the simple, who never perplexed or disturbed him by the complexities of modern civilization, which all his life he distrusted and feared

A those attracted by his work in the _Times-Democrat_ was W D

O'Connor, in the overnment, rote to enquire the narew a correspondence extending over several years Jerome A Hart, of San Francisco, was another correspondent attracted by his work, to whom he wrote froun

Mr Hart in contributing his letters says that this correspondence began in 1882, through the following reference in the pages of the _Argonaut_ to ”One of Cleopatra's Nights”:--

”Mr Lafcadio Hearn, a talented writer on the staff of the New Orleans _Times-Democrat_, has just translated some of Gautier's fantastic rohts' The book coives the title, 'Clarimonde,' 'Arria Marcella, a Souvenir of Pompeii,' 'The Mu Candaule' Mr Hearn has few equals in this country as regards translation, and the stories lose nothing of their artistic unity in his hands But his hobby is literalism For instance, of the epitaph in 'Clariit Clarimonde, Qui fut de son vivant La plus belle du monde,'

he remarks: 'The broken beauty of the lines is but inadequately rendered thus:--

'Here lies Clarimonde, Who was famed in her lifetime As the fairest of women'

Very true--it is inadequate But why not vary it? For example:--

Here lieth Clarimonde, Who hat time she lived, The loveliest in the land