on of the chemicals he dared not buy.
In the drizzling rain she walked away from her prison, penniless, and
broken in body and in spirit. She passed the little Pharmacie de Siam,
not daring to enter. She walked in the rain along the Rue des
Pyramides, and across the Rue de Rivoli, and into the Tuileries
Gardens. She had forgotten about her stone woman, but, unconsciously
her steps were directed to her. She looked up at her statue with
amazement, at first not recognizing it. It was no longer the statue of
a smiling woman. The head was thrown back, the eyes closed. The last
mortal agony was on the face. It was a ghastly monument to Death. The
girl was so perplexed by the change in her statue that for the moment
she forgot the ruin of her own life. She saw that the smiling face was
but a mask, held in place by the curving of the left arm over it. Life,
she realized now, was made up of tragedy and comedy, and he who sees
but the smiling face, sees but the half of life. The girl hurried on to
the bridge, sobbing quietly to herself, and looked down at the grey
river water. The passers-by paid no attention to her. Why, she
wondered, had she ever thought the river cold and cruel and merciless?
It is the only home of the homeless, the only lover that does not
change. She turned back to the top of the flight of steps which lead
down, to the water's brink. She looked toward the Tuileries Gardens,
but she could not see her statue for the trees which intervened. "I,
too, will be a woman of stone," she said, as she swiftly descended the
steps.
THE CHEMISTRY OF ANARCHY.
It has been said in the London papers that the dissolution of the Soho
Anarchist League was caused by want of funds. This is very far from
being the case. An Anarchist League has no need for funds and so long
as there is money enough to buy beer the League is sure of continued
existence. The truth about the scattering of the Soho organization was
told me by a young newspaper-man who was chairman at the last meeting.
The young man was not an anarchist, though he had to pretend to be one
in the interests of his paper, and so joined the Soho League, where he
made some fiery speeches that were much applauded. At last Anarchist
news became a drug in the market, and the editor of the paper young
Marshall Simkins belonged to, told him that he would now have to turn
his attention to Parliamentary work, as he would print no more
Anarchist news in the sheet.
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