hearts it fell among thorns, even if in some it fell upon stony ground.
The sower had gone forth to sow.

CHAPTER XXXIX

BEING NO CHAPTER AT ALL BUT AN INTERMEZZO BEFORE THE LAST MOVEMENT

The stage is dark. In the dim distance something is moving. It is a
world hurrying through space. Somewhat in the foreground but enveloped
in the murk sit three figures. They are tending a vast loom. Its myriad
threads run through illimitable space and the woof of the loom is time.
The three figures weaving through the dark do not know whence comes the
power that moves the loom eternally. They have not asked. They work in
the pitch of night.

From afar in the earth comes a voice--high-keyed and gentle:

A Voice, _pianissimo_:

"This business of governing a sovereign people is losing its savor. I
must be getting some kind of spiritual necrosis. Generally speaking,
about all the real pleasure a grand llama of politics finds in life, is
in counting his ingrates--his governors and senators and congressmen!
Why, George, it's been nearly ten years since I've cussed out a senator
or a governor, yet I read Browning with joy and the last time I heard
Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, I went stark mad. But woe is me, George! Woe
is me. When the Judge and Dan Sands named the postmaster last month
without consulting me, I didn't care. I tell you, George, I must be
getting old!"

Second Voice, _fortissimo_:

"No, Doc--you're not getting old--why, you're not sixty--a mere spring
chicken yet--and Dan Sands is seventy-five if he's a day. What's the
matter with you in this here Zeitgeist that Carlyle talks about! It's
this restless little time spirit that's the matter with you. You're all
broke out and sick abed with the Zeitgeist. You've got no more necrosis
than a Belgian hare's got paresis--I'm right here to tell you and my
diagnosis goes."

Third Voice, _adagio_:

"James, my guides say that we're beginning a great movement from the few
to the many. That is their expression. Cromwell thinks it means economic
changes; but I was talking with Jefferson the other night and he says
no--it means political changes in order to get economic. He says Tilden
tells him--"

The Second Voice, _fortissimo_:

"Who cares what Tilden says! My noodle tells me that there's to be a big
do in this world, and my control tinkles the cash register, pops into
the profit account, eats up ten cent magazines, and gets away with five
feet of literary dynamit