It is sufficient to say that I went to Coney Island yesterday, and
watched the bathers and the children--listened to the crisp, lingering
music of the waves--ate a robust lunch on the pier--wandered in and out
among the booths, tents, and hub-bub--and that through all these
pleasures I had a companion that enjoyed them with a gravity that I can
never hope to [v]emulate, but with a soulfulness that was touching. As I
came back in the boat, the breezes singing through the [v]cordage, music
floating from the fore-deck, and the sun lighting with its dying rays
the shipping that covered the river, there was sitting in front of me a
very pale but very happy bit of a boy, open-eyed with wonder, but sober
and self-contained, clasping tightly in his little fingers a short,
battered stick. And finally, whenever I pass by a certain overhanging
balcony now, I am sure of a smile from an intimate and esteemed friend
who lives there.
HENRY W. GRADY.
ARIEL'S TRIUMPH[141-*]
This story is taken from Booth Tarkington's novel, _The Conquest of
Canaan_, which gives an admirable description of modern life in an
American town. Joe Louden, the hero, and Ariel Tabor, the heroine,
were both friendless and, in a way, forlorn. How both of them
triumphed over obstacles and won success and happiness is the theme
of a book which is notable for keen observation of character and
for a quiet and delightful humor.
I
Ariel had worked all the afternoon over her mother's wedding-gown, and
two hours were required by her toilet for the dance. She curled her hair
frizzily, burning it here and there, with a slate-pencil heated over a
lamp-chimney, and she placed above one ear three or four large
artificial roses, taken from an old hat of her mother's, which she had
found in a trunk in the store-room. Possessing no slippers, she
carefully blacked and polished her shoes, which had been clumsily
resoled, and fastened into the strings of each small rosettes of red
ribbon; after which she practised swinging the train of her skirt until
she was proud of her manipulation of it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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