ight
and kiss her, of sweeping her hat off and sailing it across the room,
because she had a way of twining her little fingers in his.

They couldn't understand why he divorced her, but the ironic little gods
who have such matters in hand knew it was because she had a little way
of swallowing before speaking, because....

VI

LOVE

They showed her a nest swarming with impostures, deceits, lies,
affectations, bitternesses, low desires, simulations, suspicions,
distrusts, cheatings, hates, delusions, distortions, evasions. And she
shrank from the sight of it as she looked close. But presently, when she
turned from a distance of a dozen paces and looked back, she saw a
brilliant-hued, beautiful bird soar from the nest and alight among the
flowers.

"What is that gorgeous bird?" she asked.

"Love," they told her.

VII

FLIPPANCY

The scholar spoke to the mob in his own language and the mob heard him
not.

The scholar, that he might make himself understood to the mob, expressed
himself then in rune and jingle.

"A wise man and one who speaks the truth," quoth the mob, "but it is a
pity he is so flippant."

VIII

THE GIFT

All women avoided him; no woman loved him.

The mischievous gods had given him, as the one gift they give at birth
to each child on earth, great eloquence.

IX

SIC TRANSIT--

"Everyone likes me," said the man.

"That is Popularity," whispered the little star.

"Everyone likes me and envies me," said the man, a year later.

"That is Fame," whispered the little star.

"Everyone despises me," said the man, a year later still.

"That is Time," whispered the little star.

X

THE INTRUDER

It was moonlight in the court yard where languished among the flowers a
lover and his mistress.

The lover, presently, and for the first time since he had known his fair
lady, felt Wit flying close to his lips.

The little god of Love who had dwelt with the lovers in the court yard
since first they had come there, sensing the flutter of the intruder's
wings, took to his heels and slid between the bars of the great bronze
gate into a neighbouring garden.

XI

MEMORY

Memory, wandering back over the great highway of the years, paused by
the wayside to gather some of the flowers that embroidered the road.
While Memory so bent himself, there confronted him suddenly a young
woman, and Memory saw there were tears in her eyes. "Who are you?