happening every day--what would it say, do you think, if it could
speak?"

"Quit yer kiddin'," said the boy. "Wot paper yer want? I got no time
to waste. It's Mag's birthday, and I want thirty cents to git her a
present."

Here was no interpreter of the city's mouthpiece. I bought a paper,
and consigned its undeclared treaties, its premeditated murders and
unfought battles to an ash can.

Again I repaired to the park and sat in the moon shade. I thought and
thought, and wondered why none could tell me what I asked for.

And then, as swift as light from a fixed star, the answer came to me.
I arose and hurried--hurried as so many reasoners must, back around
my circle. I knew the answer and I hugged it in my breast as I flew,
fearing lest some one would stop me and demand my secret.

Aurelia was still on the stoop. The moon was higher and the ivy
shadows were deeper. I sat at her side and we watched a little cloud
tilt at the drifting moon and go asunder quite pale and discomfited.

And then, wonder of wonders and delight of delights! our hands
somehow touched, and our fingers closed together and did not part.

After half an hour Aurelia said, with that smile of hers:

"Do you know, you haven't spoken a word since you came back!"