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Henry, O., 1862-1910

"The Voice of the City: Further Stories of the Four Million"

"
"Get a towel, 'Dory," said Beriah, "and wipe that paint off your
face. I came as soon as I got your letter. Them pictures of yours
ain't amounting to anything. I've got tickets for both of us back on
the evening train. Hurry and get your things in your trunk."
"Fate was too strong for me, Beriah. Go while I am strong to bear
it."
"How do you fold this easel, 'Dory?--now begin to pack, so we have
time to eat before train time. The maples is all out in full-grown
leaves, 'Dory--you just ought to see 'em!
"Not this early, Beriah?
"You ought to see 'em, 'Dory; they're like an ocean of green in the
morning sunlight."
"Oh, Beriah!"
On the train she said to him suddenly:
"I wonder why you came when you got my letter."
"Oh, shucks!" said Beriah. "Did you think you could fool me? How
could you be run away to that Bohemia country like you said when
your letter was postmarked New York as plain as day?"


XXIII
A PHILISTINE IN BOHEMIA

George Washington, with his right arm upraised, sits his iron horse
at the lower corner of Union Square, forever signaling the Broadway
cars to stop as they round the curve into Fourteenth Street. But the
cars buzz on, heedless, as they do at the beck of a private citizen,
and the great General must feel, unless his nerves are iron, that
rapid transit gloria mundi.
Should the General raise his left hand as he has raised his right
it would point to a quarter of the city that forms a haven for the
oppressed and suppressed of foreign lands.


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