ayed a
lightness and facetiousness of thought that delighted her. It was his
old spirit of humor and badinage that had made him a favorite in his own
class, but which he had hitherto been unable to use in her presence
through lack of words and training. He was just beginning to orientate
himself and to feel that he was not wholly an intruder. But he was very
tentative, fastidiously so, letting Ruth set the pace of sprightliness
and fancy, keeping up with her but never daring to go beyond her.

He told her of what he had been doing, and of his plan to write for a
livelihood and of going on with his studies. But he was disappointed at
her lack of approval. She did not think much of his plan.

"You see," she said frankly, "writing must be a trade, like anything
else. Not that I know anything about it, of course. I only bring common
judgment to bear. You couldn't hope to be a blacksmith without spending
three years at learning the trade--or is it five years! Now writers are
so much better paid than blacksmiths that there must be ever so many more
men who would like to write, who--try to write."

"But then, may not I be peculiarly constituted to write?" he queried,
secretly exulting at the language he had used, his swift imagination
throwing the whole scene and atmosphere upon a vast screen along with a
thousand other scenes from his life--scenes that were rough and raw,
gross and bestial.

The whole composite vision was achieved with the speed of light,
producing no pause in the conversation, nor interrupting his calm train
of thought. On the screen of his imagination he saw himself and this
sweet and beautiful girl, facing each other and conversing in good
English, in a room of books and paintings and tone and culture, and all
illuminated by a bright light of steadfast brilliance; while ranged about
and fading away to the remote edges of the screen were antithetical
scenes, each scene a picture, and he the onlooker, free to look at will
upon what he wished. He saw these other scenes through drifting vapors
and swirls of sullen fog dissolving before shafts of red and garish
light. He saw cowboys at the bar, drinking fierce whiskey, the air
filled with obscenity and ribald language, and he saw himself with them
drinking and cursing with the wildest, or sitting at table with them,
under smoking kerosene lamps, while the chips clicked and clattered and
the cards were dealt around. He saw himself, stripped to th