Part 4 (1/2)

THURSDAY

I have had my dream--like others-- and it has come to nothing, so that I remain now carelessly with feet planted on the ground and look up at the sky-- feeling my clothes about me, the weight of my body in my shoes, the rim of my hat, air pa.s.sing in and out at my nose--and decide to dream no more.

THE DARK DAY

A three-day-long rain from the east-- an interminable talking, talking of no consequence--patter, patter, patter.

Hand in hand little winds blow the thin streams aslant.

Warm. Distance cut off. Seclusion.

A few pa.s.sers-by, drawn in upon themselves, hurry from one place to another.

Winds of the white poppy! there is no escape!-- An interminable talking, talking, talking ... it has happened before.

Backward, backward, backward.

TIME THE HANGMAN

Poor old Abner, old white-haired n.i.g.g.e.r!

I remember when you were so strong you hung yourself by a rope round the neck in Doc Hollister's barn to prove you could beat the faker in the circus--and it didn't kill you.

Now your face is in your hands, and your elbows are on your knees, and you are silent and broken.

TO A FRIEND

Well, Lizzie Anderson! seventeen men--and the baby hard to find a father for!

What will the good Father in Heaven say to the local judge if he do not solve this problem?

A little two pointed smile and--pouff!-- the law is changed into a mouthful of phrases.

THE GENTLE MAN