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the faces of his friends were faintly blurred with uncertaint)
"You Mill do not understand," the poet said. . . . "It was like 1 1 1 i
"lt was your last wish, \»>u saj ." one of the group broke in, "your last
wish and you were to die with it. What thru?"
" \s I made that lasl wish," Ra phael said, solemnly, "I felt a chill creep over me. It was as if a mist had risen from some cold, north sea ami in that mist, dimly, dimly, I saw tin fact' of tin antiquarian. Tin' mouth moved and 1 seemed to strain thru tin mi-t to hoar what he might be saying and what he said was this: 'You have made with your List wish //(<• first unselfish one you luive ever uttered . . . tlii' curse of the skin is lifted . . . you are free. . .
Now the poet Raphael rose from his chair and stretched with sinuous grace, lie looked about at the faces of his friends and found them clear with comprehension. He breathed a sigh oi relief and his eyes sought the room from whence came the sound iii a dim song, Pauline playing . . . Hni!" he smiled.
New Books In Brief Review
{Continued from page 79)
it is one long diatribe against the
foremost collegiate institutions of the country, which, if we are to believe Mr. Sinclair, are in as bad a way as the American newspaper press, which he so roundly and soundly denounced in "The Brass Check."
The author claims that he spent a' whole year in preparing his last book by reading "hook, pamphlets, reports, speeches, letters, newspaper and magazine articles to the extent of five or six 'million words; traveled over America from coast to coast and hack again ; stopped in twenty-five American cities and questioned not less than a thousand people — schoolteachers and principals, superintendents and board members, pupils and parents, college professors, students and alumni ; presidents, chancellors, deans, regents, trustees, governors, curators, fellows, overseers, founders and donors, ct al."
This sort of thing leaves one a little breathless, but not so the author, who keeps up the pace more or less thruout nearly five hundred pages, leaving the reader panting behind and ever and anon mopping his brow and saying, "If this is to continue may 1 be given the strength to bear it." Mr. Sinclair, as usual, spoils his case to a large extent by overstatement. But if he wants to disagree with nine-tenths of bis fellow creatures why not let him?
(Ninety-nine)