So Avanel and I find our table, in proper chatting distance from several others, some of whom have also brought their brown loaf. And we carry from the counter a few things like coffee and butter and Amaranth-Apples and we banquet. She speaks more lovingly of her father’s many moods. She divides the apples, uttering at the same time scraps of his philosophy. At last we take the bread of St. Friend. It is our communion service, High Mass of comradeship. Avanel quotes from the Gospel of Luke,—from Luke’s deathless story of the first communion. There is a ringing of bells all over the city, silvery and sweet, and in every tower of the walls:—the ringing of the star chimes. It is a clear night. The sweeping colored lights are gone. We go to the great expanse of windows and look up. Avanel says:—“The trouble with this breaking of bread is that it is a pledge to break our bodies. I do not want to break mine for a long time, if ever.” “Yet,” I say, “You ride your pale war horse.” Avanel, the dancer, replies:—“Let us hope that the war will never come. Let us hope, before the time war is due, the body of Christ, the whole human race, will be raised from the dead.” CHAPTER XII HOW THROUGH SERMONS BY ST. FRIEND AND BY POLITICAL ACTIVITY, SUCH AS THAT OF SURTO HURDENBURG, THE YELLOW DANCE HALLS ARE VOTED OUT FOR GOOD. June 9, 2018:—I have given up art teaching in a separate studio of my own and have been, for some time, merely writing verses and loafing about and peering into the town, often with old Sparrow Short. This comes about because I have sent my few pupils over to him. He is a most likable fellow. He puts on no airs whatever. We find we have a great ocean of common opinions and identical prejudices in the field of art and an equal love of feeding crumbs to the English sparrows and other such birds and we keep off ground where we would be hostile in argument. I think I did the town a good turn when I persuaded such people as showed symptoms of studying with me, to study with him. In return he urges me to give criticisms in his life classes when I feel the urge to impart to youth, or when he is out loafing, or helping decorate some of the newly revamped yellow halls, particularly the Hall of Velaska. The latest occasion when I took over his place came about because he was locked up for days without anyone to go his bail all for alleged treason to the World Government. At last Boone lets him out, by going bond, with a roaring lecture, which is replied to in kind, they say, with no show of gratitude whatever. But the privilege of being out on bond is precarious and liable to be withdrawn to one waiting trial for World Treason and Short keeps me in sight for emergencies. Sparrow Short is, of course, passionately loyal to the Star Spangled Banner and Washington’s Farewell Address but that is considered only one half of patriotism and called “World-Anarchy” now. Most of the people who study