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Show H 1 IlC otrSnglCr Charles Foley IN the outskirts of the town, the prison, with dormer windows yawning like sightless eye- B balls, was dozing. Within its iron sides the M burden of work breathed heavily, like a death rat- M tie heard in a nightmare. Through the narrow m courtyards, through the paths for making the M rounds, through the gardens, the sun poured his H dull light in a pale flood. Tragedy hovered there M in the sinister and mournful silence of the noon- M Liline, the jailer's little daughter, was playing M hopscotch in her garden, a garden which seemed M beautiful to her because, between the dark walls, M in the dark earth, it had three red geraniums and M a well. Careless, light-hearted, knowing nothing m of the crimes which were being expiated all M around her, Liline fluttered in the sunshine like a M golden butterfly. M Suddenly, behind the wall, she heard a stealthy, M grating sound, and she turned her eyes toward M the half-open door on the pathway. With the M slow suppleness of a cat, a man dressed in gray H linen leaned to the right and then to the left, M peered all around him, then noiselessly reclosed M the door and shot the big inside bolt a bolt placed B so high that Liline could not reach it even upon H tiptoes. This done, the man's breast swelled with H a great sigh of deliverance. H Liline was quite intimate with some harmless M and submissive prisoners who were employed in H cleaning the prison, and she looked at this one M without any surprise, though she did not know m him. In his linen clothes, soiled by soot, with M his pale fat face and his greenish eyes, the pupils M of which had the slyness of a cat, the little girl H thought him ugly. He had bare feet and enor- H mous, knotty hands, with the ends of the fingers H flattened. He stretched himself with the delight M of a wild beast outside his cage, and, seeing no- H body near him except this frail little girl, with a fl yawn which showed all his wolfish teeth, he M laughed long but silently, for everything which he M did seemed wadded with silence. M But Liline, already skipping at hopscotch, with- 1 out taking further notice of the man, was pushing Hj along her stone. H The man moved toward Liline. She, stagger- M ing and seeing only her stone, clutched the man's H blouse, without any ceremony. He opened his M hands, two hideous paws, ready to seize the little M one's white throat. She lifted up to him her clear, H unconscious oyes and said in a coaxing tone: H "Move back a little! My stone is against your H foot, and if I kick it I shall hurt you." m The clutching fingers unbent. The man moved M back. Liline kicked the stone beyond the goal H and cried joyfully: H t "It is there! I've won! Now let us both play. Hj Do you want to play at being gardener?" M j She ran to a corner of the walls, picked up a M spade and brought it to him: H "There! I will let you have the spade! You M see I am very kind." H At sight of the sharp, bright edge of the spade H the man's eyelids blinked. He wavered in a fierce H recoil and stammered in a harsh voice which H could not speak without seeming to tear the m words: M "I don't want to. No, no!-1 don't want to touch H H "Well, you are not good!" Liline said, poutingly, 1 as she took back the spade. "There are men a M great deal kinder than you who are always glad H to play with me! There is Grelu. Grelu is good, H I can tell you! He helps papa. They let him go, H like you, and he does everything that I ask him to H do. If it doesn't amuse you to dig, let us play at H something else. Do -you want to water the L flowers?" (Translation by Edward Tuckerman Mason) She again pulled his blouse, confidingly: "Come this way. There Is the well. You must draw the water. I can't do it all alone. The well is very deep." The man followed her stupidly. Without letting go his blouse, she leaned on the margin of the well, bending her graceful little body over the dark opening. "Lean down, too!" she said. "The bottom is just like a cake of ice, and you can see yourself there, quite plain. Do you see me? I can see you. Oh, how wicked your eyes look in the water!" She still leaned down, and her little throat looked frailer, slighter than ever against that dark background. The man, throwing himself backward, with his eyes convulsively shut, panted in a voice of furl ous distress: "Don't lean! Oh, don't lean over that hole! It gives me the death fever!" Liline drew herself up with an amused laugh: "There's no danger of my falling in while yon are here!" But as soon as she was standing up again, the! man, without looking, pushed her away from the well, and so brutally that two little tears filled the child's limpid eyes. "You hurt me!" she moaned. "I thought you were good and you are bad. Grelu never hurt ne." i He watched her crying. Then, with an effort, as if something melted in his voice, he said gently: (Continued on page 78) BMWBBWWWBBjb'f 2w!nLS3BJhWiolM6 oVTiX-.-flBiPjK3HBPYBMMg tfMAM3MMlafcfcifctMH THE GRIM BEAUTY J A PEAD REGION C""'" "r'""'" What is rightly claimed to bo tho beauty spot of that strange and desolate region, the Dead Sea, Is tho magnificent gorge of the River Arnon. This tributary flows Into tho inland sea through a rocky gorge whose scenery Is typical of that found In tho Canadian Rockies. Tho sides of the canyon rise perpendicularly to a height of some 300 feet and are only 20 feet apart, here overhanging, there overlapping or dovetailing into ono another, as though this mighty mass had bpen violently rent asunder to allow tho seething stream of the Arnon, with its cascades fi and Irlpools, access to the sea. But tho glory of this gorge is not its natural scenery, but the lerful and beautiful coloring of tho rocks. Indeed, words absolrtely fail to describe, nor can tho camera portray the exhaustless variety and beauty of tho voinlng and tracery In the richly shaded sandstone of which the mountains hero are composed. It is at once a wonderful and fascinating picture of delicate designs, rich and lavish, and never-ending in their variations. Unfortunately this spot can only be reached by chartering the strange little motor boat, tho Forerunner, which now runs on tho Dead Sea. It is stationed at the northern end of tho lake and makes trips down the western shore. H THE STRANGLER H (Continued from page 30) H "Don't cry, little brat, don't cry! I didn't mean H to hurt you, upon my word! Only don't touch the spade or lean over the well! I won't push you any more." She smiled through her tears, consoled at once. "Then pick me some geraniums and I won't cry any more. , He picked the flowers; he awkwardly handed them to her. She took them, and with a pretty gesture fastened the red bouquet to her frock, against her snowy little throat. She said gaily: "Isn't that pretty, against my white skin? It's as red as blood!" The man buried his livid face in his big, ' uotty hands so as not to see. Trembling, he moaned like a wounded animal, "Take off the red! Take off the red!" Liline threw away the flowers, and her eye again filled with tears. When the man opened his eyes he no longer saw the red flowers upon the snowy throat. Then he bent down toward her, tried to smile, with a strange grimace, and soft-enod soft-enod his voice, burnt by corrosives. "Don't cry any more. It is all right now now that I don't see red. And I'm going to be good There was a cry of anguish. But Liline turned I quietly, as if to tell the man to answer, and was I astonished to see him backed up against the wall, 1 drawn together like a bull about to charge. I "No, no," she said, xed, "don't look at the 1 flowers or at the well, and don't pick up the i spade, as all those things make you bad!" Outside they were shaking the door with desperate des-perate thrusts of their shoulders. Then Liline tripped lightly over to the man, took hold of his blouse again and said coaxingly: , "The door ought to be opened for papa! You promised me to be good like Grelu and, the very I first thing, you must put down the spade or else I I'm going to cry!" , , , I Livid, with his whole body shaKing, the man 1 looked into the clear eyes raised to his. There 9 were two tears in those eyes. Then he moaned H heavily like a conquered beast, and threw down H the spade. Liline glided her little hand into the jfl man's great, rough paw, and led him toward tho " door. She began to skip again and said gaily: "You see, I'm too little! You must draw the bolt yourself!" , Wi iiiiiiiiiiifliiiViiisVv vi. fcv .Liiiiiiiiiiiv M h Hf- pm rv-'flrailiiiiHLiiQHLiiiiiiftLiiiV rv' iiiiiV . ,'';'ft liH RnSiiiifliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiViiiV SCENE PROM "THE TRAVELING SALESMAN" Forbes' clover comedy will bo seen at the Salt Lake Theatre Christmas week. like Grelu. But don't cry, little one! I don't want you to cry any more." Bending down, with a sheepish submission, he timidly caressed the fine, golden hair with his big, knotty Angers. All at once there was a sound of mad galloping upon the road. Haggardly the man lifted himself up, sprang away, and hid himself in a corner of tho garden. Somebody shook the door and an anxious voice cried: "Liline, are you there?" "Yes, papa!" "Open the door for me! Open it at once!" "I can't! You know very well that he bolt is too high or mo!" "How did yau shut the door?" "I didn'6 d6j$ff papa. It was he who shut It." "Who is that?" said tho terrified voice. "He the prisoner. I don't know his name." He raised his hand, hesitated for a second, then suddenly, with a single movement, he drew tho bolt. There was a rush of three keepers who threw themselves upon the man in gray linen antf overpowered over-powered him, while a fourth man, the jailor, seized the little girl and drew her feverishly to his breast. But when Liline saw that they were all fiercely pushing the man whom they had bound, driving him to the prison with kicks and j blows, she began to sob: "Papa, I don't want them to beat himi He has been playing with me. I can assure you that he Is not a wicked man. Papa, I don't want to have them beat him!" The jailor shrugged his shoulders impudently and said: "Be quiet, littlo goosey! That's the Strangler!" |