state. She sat thus, as on
a throne, raised above the rest, the radiance of the unseen crown of
motherhood glowing from her forehead, the beauty of the perfect woman
surrounding her like a glory.

And the josh died away on Osterman's lips, and unconsciously and swiftly
he bared his head. Something was passing there in the air about him that
he did not understand, something, however, that imposed reverence and
profound respect. For the first time in his life, embarrassment seized
upon him, upon this joker, this wearer of clothes, this teller of funny
stories, with his large, red ears, bald head and comic actor's face. He
stammered confusedly and took himself away, for the moment abstracted,
serious, lost in thought.

By now everyone was eating. It was the feeding of the People, elemental,
gross, a great appeasing of appetite, an enormous quenching of thirst.
Quarters of beef, roasts, ribs, shoulders, haunches were consumed,
loaves of bread by the thousands disappeared, whole barrels of wine went
down the dry and dusty throats of the multitude. Conversation lagged
while the People ate, while hunger was appeased. Everybody had their
fill. One ate for the sake of eating, resolved that there should be
nothing left, considering it a matter of pride to exhibit a clean plate.

After dinner, preparations were made for games. On a flat plateau at the
top of one of the hills the contestants were to strive. There was to be
a footrace of young girls under seventeen, a fat men's race, the younger
fellows were to put the shot, to compete in the running broad jump, and
the standing high jump, in the hop, skip, and step and in wrestling.

Presley was delighted with it all. It was Homeric, this feasting, this
vast consuming of meat and bread and wine, followed now by games of
strength. An epic simplicity and directness, an honest Anglo-Saxon mirth
and innocence, commended it. Crude it was; coarse it was, but no
taint of viciousness was here. These people were good people, kindly,
benignant even, always readier to give than to receive, always more
willing to help than to be helped. They were good stock. Of such was the
backbone of the nation--sturdy Americans everyone of them. Where else
in the world round were such strong, honest men, such strong, beautiful
women?

Annixter, Harran, and Presley climbed to the level plateau where the
games were to be held, to lay out the courses, and mark the distances.
It was the very place where o