CULTURE IN THE VILLAGE.

Dominion, Volume 4, Issue 1174, 8 July 1911, Page 9

CULTURE IN THE VILLAGE.

"How long are you saddled with the place for?" Her tone was sympathetic. "I'm Dot sorry I took it," he answered. "Of qoursq everything is more or less a disappointment, except tho unattainable. When Columbus reached the new'world at. last, tho aborigines said. 'Well, what do you think of Aiuurrica?' Ho said, 'I thought it would bo bigger.' • A bird in fbe hand is not w;orth two in tho bush; on the contrary, a .lark in the sky is worth two in the pudding. If you ever scratched thoso pretty hands of yours Getting a glow-worm out of a hedge, you now that, when you have brought" it liome, you wondered why you had given yourself so much inconvenience to acquire the little impostor. Possession strains—it depressoth her that gives, and him that takes. While it was in tho hedge, the glow-worm shone no less divine than the poet's star." •"Where was that?" she said.'. "In a fable. Did you think I meant a star of tho music-halls? They weren't tho fashion in poetry yet. He was a glorious poet enchanted by a star of the heavens. Ho stretched his arms to it, he sang to it nightly. And for his sako tho s-tar 'stooped earthward, and became a woman.' And then tho day came when the woman asked her lover which was best—'The Star's beam, or the Woman's breast':— "'I miss from heaven,' the man replied, A light that dren; my spirit to it.' And to the man tho woman sigh'd, 'I miss from oarth a poet.'" "Jl ; m, that's ' rather sensible," admitted Aina, "1 like that—l supno.'e.it can't bo really great poetry. • What gets on my nerves so in the poetry of the Eeallv breat are those irritating words that 1 knew were coming, like 'porphvry' and empyrean,' and 'bower' and ''nymph'and then there are the. titles—they always found so dull because I never 'know what they mean. Well, go on talkin* to me." About eleven o'clock the. downpour ceased, and presently a timid sunbeam played upon a puddle. They went out to look for a library at noon. There was no need for umbrellas.

The librarian was a listless youri" woman of "superior manners." When not oecupic<l anion;; the literature, she assisted in the fancy department. W|'ii|» Nina was lingering at the shelves, three ether readers v;ent to the counter, and the first lady said:

"Gr.od morning. I want a . . . book. Something—er~rathcr exciting." The young woman threw an omniscient glance at the collection, and plucked. The lady read the litle aloud:

"Is this rather exciting?" ''Oh, yes, madam, that is very excitimr." "Oh." Sho ruffled the pages irresolutely. "It's not very long," she murmured; "haven't you anything longer?" The young woman plucked. ''Is this rather exciting?" asked the lady.

The librarian assured her that it was no less exciting that the other novel.

"Oh," said the lady . . . "The Face in the Drawer.' Oh . . . I'll take this one then. You know the address, don't you? Good morning." The requirement of the second lady was: "Something pretty ... not too .'hort . . 4 lo last nic through the week." Conrad almost expected mo to hear the

librarian-reply that they had "A verv durable lino at three-three," but she plucked again. "Shall 1 liko it?" inquired tho lady trustfully.

Tho young woman, listless, but confident, told her that sho was "Certain to liko that."

"You're sure?" said the lady. "Oh, very well (hen—l'll have it. Good day." The third subscriber was still more freo from tho vice of favouritism. She simply stated that sho wanted "X nice book to read." The librarian handed a book to her, and she accepted it as iinqucstioiungly as if it had been stamps in a post office. In not one of the three cases had any author's name been mentioned.— From Leonard Merrick's ''Conrad iu Quest of His Youth."