n the parks, or trotting along with their hands
nestled in strong fingers that guided and protected, I thought of that
tiny watcher in the balcony--joyless, hopeless, friendless--a desolate
mite, hanging between the blue sky and the gladsome streets, lifting his
wistful face now to the peaceful heights of the one, and now looking
with grave wonder on the ceaseless tumult of the other. At length--but
why go any further? Why is it necessary to tell that the boy had no
father, that his mother was bedridden from his birth, and that his
sister pasted labels in a drug-house, and he was thus left to himself.

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. Posses