EASTER BY AUGUST STRINDBERG TRANSLATED BY Midsummertide The Stone Man Haifa Sheet of Paper The Sleepy-Head Jubal Sans Ego and Others THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA RIVERSIDE 2Ayn.(M'^-^ -^ . - . f^^^^-d-e^ FROM ETCHING SYZORN AUGUST STRINDBERG COURTESY OF FREDERICK KEPPEL&CO EASTER (A Play in Three Acts) AND STORIES FROM THE SWEDISH OF AUGUST STRINDBERG AUTHOR OF "l.UCKY PEHR," ETC. TRANSLATED BY VELMA SWANSTON HOWARD CINCINNATI STEWART & KIDD COMPANY 1912 P3/^3 Copyright 1912 STEWART & KIDD COMPANY Entered at Stationers' Hall, London, England A// rights reserved August ^trindberg o:ttMlt>vek^ ^.V4tc..)*lo% Facsimile of a letter from Herr Strindberg, authorizing Mrs. Howard to make these translations CONTENTS PAGE Easter 3 ]\IlDSUMMERTIDE 143 The Stone IVIan 165 Half a Sheet of Paper 183 The Sleepy-head 189 Secrets of the Tobacco Shed .... . 203 The Big Gravel Screen 215 Photography and Philosophy 227 JuBAL SANS Ego 235 Blue Wing Finds the Gold Powder . . . 251 EASTER CHARACTERS. Fru Heyst. Elis, her son. A bachelor of Arts and Instructor. Eleonora, her Daughter. Christina, Elis' Betrothed. Benjamin, Pupil at Classical High School. LiNDQUiST, A Creditor. ACT ONE. AFTERNOON OF HOLY THURSDAY. Music played before rise of curtain: ^^Sie- ben Worte des Erlosers" (Seven Last Words from the Cross), Haydn. Introduction: Maestoso Adagio. Scene : An enclosed veranda, entirely glass at the back, fitted up as a living room. At cen- tre is a large door leading to a small garden with a picket fence and a gate opening on to the street. The door and windows at the hack are hung with yellow flowered chintz curtains, which can he drawn. A small mir- ror hangs on window-frame at left of centre door; below it a date calendar. At right is a door leading to the kitchen; at left a door leading to other rooms. Up right centre is a writing table on which are books, writing materials and a telephone. Down at right is a sewing table with a lamp and two easy chairs. At the left, above the door, is a side- hoard and a parlor stove; a dining table with chairs at left centre. From the ceiling hangs a lamp. From the windows is seen a view of the street, and a house on the hill sur- rounded by a garden which slopes toward the city; at hack of garden are seen tree-tops in spring bloom. A church spire looms above the trees. A street lamp with incandescent burners is opposite the gate. Time : The present. EASTER lA sunbeam falls obliquely across room, from left to right, touching one of the chairs at sewing table. On the other chair, ivhich is in shadoiu, Christina is seated. She is run- ning a tape through a pair of newly laundered draw-cwtains. Elis comes in with overcoat unbuttoned and carrying a large bundle of documents, which he lays upon the writing table.l Elis. Good afternoon, my friend. Chkistina. Good day, Elis. Elis. [Glancing around.] Storm-windows out — floor scoured — clean curtains. Yes, spring is here again! They have chopped up the ice- pavement, and the sallow down by the river is in bloom. Yes, it is spring now, and I can hang- up my winter coat. Do you know, it is as 3 EASTER AND STORIES heavy [weighing it in his hand] as if it had absorbed all the winter's hardships — the sweat of anguish and the dust of the school- room — Ah! [He hangs up coat on wall, left.] Christina. And now you are having a holiday. Elis. Easter Holiday: Five glorious days in which to revel — to breathe — to forget! See, the sun has come back! It went away in No- vember — I remember the day it disappeared back of the brewery, opposite. Oh, this winter — this long winter! Christina. [With a motion toward kitchen door.] Softly, softly! Elis. I'll be quiet, and I ought to be glad that it is over. Oh, the good sun ! [Rubbing his hands as if laving them.] I want to bathe in sun- shine — wash myself in light, after all this black filth! 4 EASTER Chkistina. Softly, softly! Elis. Do you know, I believe that peace is return- ing and that the misfortunes have exhausted themselves — Chkistina. What makes you think so? Elis. Because — when I passed by the Cathedral, a while ago, a white dove came circling down; she lit on the pavement and dropped a branch she carried in her bill, right at my feet. Christina. Did you observe what kind of branch it was ? Elis. Olive it could hardly have been; but I think it was an emblem of peace, and just now I feel a blissful, sunny calm — Where's mother? EASTEE AND STOKIES Chkistusta. [With a glance toward kitchen door.] In the kitchen. Elis. [Closing Ms eyes and speaking in hushed tones]. I can hear that it is spring. Do you know how I can tell! Mostly by the axles on the wagon wheels — bnt what have we here? The bullfinch is singing, the hammers are sound- ing on the wharf, and I smell the fresh paint from the steamboats — Christina. Can you sense it all the way here ? Elis. Here! — True, we are here; but I was there — up there in the North, where our home lies. How did I ever come to this dreadful city, where all the people hate one another, and where one is always alone! It was the bread that drew us. But, beside the bread lay the misfortunes— father's crooked dealings and lit- tle sister's iUness. Tell me— do you know if 6 EASTER mother has been permitted to visit father in prison? Christina. I think she has been there even to-day. Elis. What did she say? Christhsta. Nothing. She talked of other matters. Elis. Yet one thing is settled : After the trial came certainty, and a singular calm — when the news- papers had finished with their reports of the proceedings. One year has gone by; in one year he'll be out, and then we can begin all over ! Christina. I admire your patience in tribulation. Elis. Don't ! Admire nothing in me, for I possess only faults. Now you know it — if you would only believe it ! 7 EASTER. AND STORIES Chkistina. If you suffered for your own failings, yes; but you suffer for the mistakes of others. Elis. What are you sewing upon? Christina. The kitchen draw-curtains, dearie. Elis. Looks like a bridal veil. In the autumn you are to be my bride, Christina. True, is it not? Christina. Yes ; but first, let us think of the summer. Elis. Yes, summer! [Taking out a check hook.] You see that the money is already in bank. ^Hien school closes, we shall go North to our own province — to Miilaren! The cottage stands there, ready— as it stood in our child- hood; the lindens are still there; the punt lies under the willow down by the river. Oh, that 8 EASTER it were summer, so I could bathe in the sea! This family dishonor has submerged me, body and soul, and I long for a sea to cleanse me ! Christina. Have you heard anything from sister Eleonora? Elis. Yes. She is restless, poor child, and writes letters that wring my heart. She wants to come home, naturally, but the superintendent of the Asylum is afraid to let her go, for she does things which lead to prison. I feel con- science-stricken at times because I voted for her commitment. Christina. My dear friend, you assume the blame for everything. But in this instance, it has surely been a mercy that she was cared for, poor un- happy child ! Elis. What you say is true, and things seem best as they are. She is as comfortable as can be. 9 EASTEE AND STOKIES AVlien I think of how she went about here, cast- ing a shadow over every semblance of pleasure ; of how her fate depressed us, like a nightmare — tortured us to despair — I am selfish enough to feel a certain relief, akin to joy. And the great- est misfortune I can imagine at this moment would be to see her step inside these doors. Just that contemiDtible am I ! Christina. Just that human are you. Elis. I suffer all the same at the thought of her distress, and father's. Cheisthsta. Some persons seem to be born for suffering — Elis. Poor you, who happened into this family, doomed from the start — and damned ! Christina. Elis, you do not know whether these are trials or chastisements. 10 EASTER Elis. A^Tiat they are for you, I know not. Surely you are not accountable to any one but your- self. Christina. Tears in the morning, joy in the evening — Elis, perhaps I can help you — Elis. Do you know if mother has a white muffler? Cheistina. [Uneasy.'] Are you going somewhere! Elis. I'm going to dine out. Peter, as you know, gave a disputation yesterday, and to-day he gives a dinner. Christina. Would you go to that dinner? Elis. You mean that I should stay away because he proved to be a very ungrateful pupil. 11 EASTER AND STOEIES Chkistina. I cannot deny that his disloyalty shocked me ; after promising to quote your thesis, he ap- propriated it without mentioning the source — Elis. Alas ! that is so common ; but I am happy in the consciousness that "this have I done." Christina. Has he invited you? Elis. Come to think of it, no ! It's rather strange, considering that he has gone about and talked of this dinner for several years, as though my presence was a foregone conclusion. If I am not invited now, it is an intentional affront. What matter! This is not the first time — nor yet the last ! lPause.'\ Christina. Benjamin is late. Do you think he will pass his examination? 12 EASTER Elis. I certainly hope so! — In Latin, surely, with honors. Chkistina, Fine boy, Benjamin ! Elis. Uncommonly so, but something of a dreamer. You know, of course, why he is here with us? Christina. It is because — Elis. Because my father embezzled his funds in equity — like those of so many others. You see, Christina, this is the terrible part of it: At school I have to face all these poor, defrauded, fatherless lads who must suffer the humiliation of being charity pupils ; and the light in which they regard me, you can imagine. I must con- tinually think of their misery in order to par- don their cruelty^ 13 EASTER AND STORIES Chkistina. I believe your father is rQuch better off than you. Elis. Much! Christina. Elis, we should think of the summer and not of the past. Elis. Yes, of the summer! — Do you know, I was awakened last night by the students' singing. They sang: ''Yes, I'm coming! Happy winds, take my greetings to the country. To the birds say, that I love them; to birch and linden, lake and mountain, say that I would see them once again — see them now as in my child- hood!" [Rising.] Shall I ever see them again? Shall I ever get away from this dread- ful city— from Mount Ebal, the accursed, and once more behold Gerizim? [Seats himself by the door.'] 14 EASTER Christina. Yes, yes, you shall! Elis. But think you that I shall see my birches and lindens as I saw them before? Think you not that the same black pall will spread over them that has veiled the landscape and the life down here ever since that day? — [Pointing to chair, which is now in shadow.^ You see, the sun has gone away ! Christina. It will come back — only to stay the longer. Elis. True ; the days are lengthening and the shad- ows shortening. Christina. We are going toward the light, Elis, believe me. Elis. Sometimes I think so, and when I think of the past and compare it with the present, I feel 15 EASTER AND STORIES happy. This time last year you were not sit- ting here, for then you had gone from me, and had broken our engagement. Do you know that that was the darkest shadow of all. I literally died, inch by inch ; but when you came again — I lived ! Do you remember why you went 1 Christina. No, I do not; and it occurs to me now that there was no reason for it. I felt an irresisti- ble impulse to go, so I went— as in a dream. When I saw you again, I awoke, and was happy. Elis. And now we must never be parted ; for if you were to go from me now, I should die in ear- nest ! Mother is coming— say nothing. Shield her in her world of illusions, where she lives fancying father a martyr and all his victims scoundrels. [Fru Heyst comes on from kitchen, tvearing a kitchen apron and paring an apple. She speaks pleasantly and somewhat artlessly.] 16 EASTER Feu Heyst. Good afternoon, children. How will you have your apple soup — hot or cold? Elis. Cold, little mother. Fku Heyst. That's right, my boy! You always know what you want, and speak up; but Christina doesn't. This Elis learned from his father. He always knew what he wanted and what he was about — and that folks can't tolerate. Therefore it turned out badly for him. But his day is coming; then he'll get justice and the others will get their deserts ! — Wait — what was I going to tell you — ? Oh, yes — do you know that Lindquist has moved to townl — Lindquist — the biggest scoundrel of them all ! Elis. [Agitated, rises.'\ Is he here? Feu Heyst. Yes ; he lives across the way. 17 EASTER AND STORIES Elis. Then one must see Mm pass by every day — This too! Feu Heyst. Only let me talk to him once, and he will never come again, or show his face ! I know his little peculiarities. Well, Elis, how did Peter get on? Elis. Very well. Fru Heyst. I can readily believe that. When do you think of debating? Elis. When I can afford to, mother. Feu Heyst. When you can afford to? But that's no an- swer! And Benjamin — has he passed his ex- amination ? Elis. We don't Imow as yet, but he will be here shortly. 18 EASTER Feu Heyst. I don't quite like Benjamin, for he goes about with an air — as though lie had rights ; but we '11 cure him of that. A good boy, all the same — Oh, by the by, there's a parcel for you, Elis. [Steps into kitchen and returns promptly with parcel.l Elis. Fancy, how well mother keeps track of every- thing, and knows what is going on ! Sometimes I think she is not as artless as she pretends to be. Feu Heyst. Here is the parcel. Lina took it in. Elis. A gift! I'm afraid of gifts since I received that box of cobble stones — [He lays parcel on table.] Feu Heyst. Now I 'm going back into the kitchen. "Won 't it be too cold with the door open? 19 EASTER AND STORIES Elis. Not at all, mother. Fru Heyst. You mustn't hang your overcoat there, Elis; it looks so untidy! Well, Christina, will my draw-curtains be ready soon? Christina. In a few minutes, mother. Fru Heyst. Yes, I do like that boy, Peter ; he is my favor- ite ! Aren 't you going to the dinner, Elis ? Elis. Why, to be sure I am ! Fru Heyst. Then why should you go and say that you wanted your apple soup cold, when you are to dine out? There's nothing determined about you, Elis ; but there is about Peter. Now, close the doors if it grows chilly, so you won't catch cold. 20 EASTER Elis. Good old soul! — And it's always Peter — Is it her meaning to tease you about Peter? Christina. Me? Elis. You know, of course, that old ladies are up to such games — whims and fancies only. Christina. What kind of gift did you receive ? Elis. [Tearing of paper.] A birch branch. Christina. From whom? Elis. Giver anonymous — No, the birch is innocent enough, and I shall put it in water so that it will blossom, like Aaron's rod. Birch — as in my childhood — So Lindquist is here. 21 EASTEK AND STORIES Christina. What about him? Elis. Our heaviest debt is to him. Christina. But you don't owe him anything! Elis. Yes, we do — one for all and all for one; the family name is dishonored so long as there is debt. Christina. Change names. Elis. Christina ! Christina. [Lays down work, ivhich is finished.] Thanks, Elis ! I only wished to try you. Elis. But you mustn't tempt me! — Lindquist is a poor man and needs his money. Wherever my 22 EASTER father lias been, it is like a battle field, with dead and wounded ; and mother believes that he is the victim! — Don't you want to go for a stroll? Christina. And look for the sun? — Gladly! Elis. Can you understand this : The Redeemer suffered for our iniquities, yet we continue to pay? No one pays for me. Christina. But if someone paid for you, would you un- derstand then? Elis. Yes, then I should understand. Hush ! Here comes Benjamin. Can you see if he looks happy ? Christina. He walks so slowly — now he stops at the fountain — and washes his eyes — 23 EASTEE AND STORIES Even this — ! Wait a bit- Tears, tears ! Elis. Chkistina. Elis. Christina. Patience ! [Enter Benjamin. He is gentle and respect- ful, hut looks disheartened. He carries a few hooks and a portfolio.] Elis. How did it go with your Latin? Benjamin. Badly ! Elis. May I see your examination papers? What have you done? Benjamin. I dashed off the indicative, although I knew it should have been the conjunctive — 24 EASTER Elis. Then you are lost ! But liow could you ? Benjamin. I can't explain it. I knew bow it ought to be, wanted to do the right thing, and did the wrong thing. [Dejected, he sits down at table.] Elis. [Drops into chair at writing table and reads in Benjamin's portfolio.] Yes, here you have the indicative. — Ye gods ! Cheistina. [Forced.] Better luck next time! Life is long — terribly long! Benjamin. It is that ! Elis. [Mournfully, but ivitJioiit bitterness.] And it must all come upon you at once. You were my best pupil, so what can I expect from the others? My standing as tutor goes for naught, and I shall have no more classes. Thus every- 25 EASTER AND STORIES tiling falls through. [To Benjamin.] Don't be so cut up; it's not your fault. Cheistina. Elis, courage, courage, for pity's sake! Elis. Where shall I find it? Cheistina. Where you found it before. Elis. It's not the same now. I seem to be in dis- grace — Cheistina. It is a grace to suffer without blame. Don't let impatience delude you. Stand the test; for it is only a test — I feel it so. Elis. Can a year for Benjamin become shorter than three hundred and sixty-five days? Cheistina. Yes ; for a cheerful mind shortens time. 26 EASTER Elis. [Laughing.] Blow on the wound and it will heal up, we say to children. Christina. Be a child, then, and I'll say it. Think of mother — how well she bears everything. Elis. Give me your hand, I'm sinking! [Christina extends hand.] Your hand trembles — Christina. No, I can't feel that it does. Elis. You are not the strong woman you appear to be. Christina. I feel no weakness — Elis. Then why can't you give me a little strength? Christina. I have none to spare. 27 EASTER AND STORIES Elis. [Looking out through the window.'] Do you know who is coming this way? Christina. [Glances through icindow, then drops to knees, crushed.] This is too much! Elis. The creditor — he who can seize our effects at any time — Lindquist, who came here that he might sit, like the spider in the centre of the web, to watch the flies — Christina. Fly! Elis. No, I shall not fly. — Now, when you are weak, I am strong. He is coming up the street and his cruel eyes have already sighted the prey. Christina. Step aside at least! 28 EASTER Elis. No; now he amuses me. — He appears to brighten, as though he saw the game in the trap. — Come along, you! — He is counting the steps to the gate and sees by the open door that we are at home. He meets someone and stops to chatter. — He is talking about us, for he looks this way — Christina. Just so he doesn't meet mother here, for with a hasty word she might make him relentless. — Prevent it, Elis! Elis. Now he shakes his cane, as if protesting that here at least mercy shall not come before jus- tice. — He buttons his overcoat to show that as yet we have not stripped the clothes oif his body — I can tell by the movement of his lips what he is saying. What shall I answer him — ' ' My lord, you are right, take all, it belongs to you?" Cheistina, That is the only thing to be said. 29 EASTEE AND STOEIES Elis. Now lie laughs, but good-naturedly — ^not wickedly. Perhaps he's not so bad after all, although he wants his money. If he would only come now and stop his infernal chatter! — The cane is in motion again — they always have canes — these persons with outstanding debts — and leather-galoshes that say ''vitch, vitch," like whips in the air. [He presses Christina's hand to his heart.] Do you feel how my heart beats? I hear it myself, in the right ear, like the thump, thump of a propeller on an ocean liner. — Ah, now he has said farewell ! — and now for the galoshes : "Vitch, vitch," like the Easter birch rod. — He wears watch charms. — Then he can't be so poverty-stricken. They always wear charms of carbuncle, like old flesh carved from their neighbor's back. — Hark, the ga- loshes! "Vipers, vipers, vitch!" Look out! — He sees me — [hotving toward street]. He nods first — and smiles ; he waves his hand — and — and — [sinks down at writing table and weeps]. He passed by! 30 EASTER Christina. God be praised ! Elis. [Rising.] He passed by — but he'll come back. — Let us go out into the sunshine. Christina. And the dinner with Peter? Elis. As I'm not invited, I'll keep aloof. For that matter, why should I break in upon the merri- ment! To meet a faithless friend? — I should only suffer for his behavior so that I could not feel offended by mine own. Christina. Thank you for staying with us. Elis. I much prefer it, as you know. Shall we walk? Christina. Yes — this way. [Goes off at door left.] 31 EASTER AND STORIES Elis. [Pats Benjamin on the head in passing.'] Courage, lad! [Benjamin buries his face in his hands. Elis takes birch branch from din- ing table and places it bach of mirror.] It was no olive branch the dove brought — it was birch. [Goes out.] [Eleonora enters at door centre. She is a girl of sixteen, with a braid down her back. She carries a potted yelloiv Easter Uly and, toithout seeing or seeming to see Benjamin, takes a water bottle from the sideboard and waters the plant, places it on dining table, then sits down at table opposite Benjamin, regards him, and unconsciously imitates his movements. Benjamin, astonished, stares at her.] Eleonoka. [Pointing at flower.] Do you know what this is? Benjamin. [Simply and childishly.] It's an Easter lily, that much I know ; but who are you ? 32 EASTER Eleonora. [^Pleasantly, hut tvith a note of sadness.'\ And who are you ? Benjamiist. My name is Benjamin, and I lodge here with Fru Heyst. Eleonoea. Oh, do you^ My name is Eleonora, and I am a daughter of this house. Benjamin. How strange that they never speak of you ! Eleonora. One does not speak of the dead. Benjamin. The dead! Eleonora. I am legally dead, for I have committed a ter- rible wrong. Benjamin Youf 33 EASTER AND STORIES Eleonora. Yes; I have embezzled trust funds — which was of no great consequence, for ill-gotten gains should perish — but that my old father got the blame and was sent to prison, that, you see, can never be pardoned. Benjamin". How strangely and prettily you speak! — Tt has never occurred to me that my inheritance might have been dishonestly acquired. Eleonora. One must not bind people, one must free them. Benjamin. You have freed me from the worry of being defrauded. Eleonora. You are a ward, then? Benjamin. Yes, and it is my ill-luck to be com- pelled to stay with these poor people and live out their debt. 34 EASTER Eleonora. You mustn't use hard words, for then I'll go my way; I am so sensitive that I can't bear anything harsh. Meanwhile — you suffer this on my account? Benjamin. On your father's account. Eleonora. It is all one, for he and I are one and the same person — [pausel. I have been very ill — ■ Why are you so sad? Benjamin. I have had a stroke of bad luck. Eleonora. Shall you grieve over that? "The rod and reproof give wisdom, and he that hateth re- proof shall die." What was your bad luck? Benjamin. I failed to pass in my Latin examination, although I was absolutely certain — 35 EASTEE AND STOKIES Eleonoea. So you were absolutely certain — so certain that you could have laid a wager on pass- ing—! Benjamin". And I did it, too ! Eleonoea. I thought as much. You see, it turned out thus because you were so certain. Benjamin. Do you think that was the cause of it? Eleonoea. Of course it was. "Pride goeth before a fall." Benjamin. I'll remember that next time. Eleonoea. Now you are thinldng right; and ''the sacri- fices which are pleasing unto God, are a broken spirit and a contrite heart." 36 EASTER Benjamin. Are you pious? Eleonoea. Yes. Benjamin. A believer, I mean. Eleonoea. Yes, I mean just that, so if you speak evil of God, my benefactor, I shall not sit at the same table with you. Benjamin. How old are you? Eleonoea. For me there is neither time nor space; I am everywhere and at any time. I am in my father's prison and in my brother's school room; I am in my mother's kitchen and in my sister's shop, far away in America. When all goes well with my sister and she can sell, I feel her joy, and when it goes badly, I suffer; but I suffer most when she does wrong. Benjamin 37 EASTER AND STORIES — You are named Benjamin because you are the youngest of my friends — yes, all mankind are my friends. Will you let me adopt you, that I may suffer for you, too? Benjamin. I do not wholly understand your words, but I seem to catch the drift of your thoughts and, from now on, I wish all that you wish ! Eleonoea. To begin, then, will you stop judging people — even those who are convicted criminals'? Benjamin. Yes, but I must have a reason for it; I have read philosophy you see. Eleonora. Oh, have you! Then you shall help me in- terpret this, from a great philosopher: *'They who hate the righteous, shall be adjudged crim- inally guilty." * *This passage, from the thirty-fourth Psalm, had to be traiislat(xl from tlie Swedish version of the Bible to give a correct interpretation of the author's meaning. Our English Bible conveys a somewhat different thought. — Trans. 38 EASTER Benjamin. Which, according to all logic means that one may be doomed to commit crime — Eleonora. And that the crime itself is a punishment. Benjamin. It is certainly deep. One might think it was Kant or Schopenhauer — Eleonora. I don't know them. Benjamin. In whose writings have you read it? Eleonora. In Holy Writ. Benjamin. Really? Are such things to be found there? Eleonora. What an ignorant and neglected child you are! If I could only train you! 39 EASTEE AND STORIES Benjamin. Little you! Eleonoea. But there is certainly nothing bad in you ; if anything, you look good. What is the name of your Latin teacher? Benjamin. Professor Algren. Eleonoea. [Rising.] I shall remember that. — Oh! now my father fares very badly — they are cruel to him. [Stands still, as if she ivere listening.] Do you hear the rasping in the telephone wires? — Those are the hard words which the pretty, soft red copper cannot bear. — When people slander one another in the telephone, the cop- per wails and laments — [ivith severity] and every word is written in the Book — and at the end of time comes the reckoning. Benjamin. How severe you are I 40 EASTER Eleonora. Not I, not I! How would I dare be? I— I? [She goes over to the stove, opens the door and takes out some torn scraps of white letter pa- per. Benjamin rises and looks curiously at the scraps, which Eleonora arranges on dining table.] Eleoitoea. [To herself. 1 Why are people so thoughtless as to put their secrets into empty stoves ! "Wlier- ever I am, I go at once to the stove; but I never misuse my knowledge — I wouldn't dare to, for that brings suffering. [Reading.] Why, what is this? Benjamin. It's a letter from Peter, the Senior Wrangler, who makes an appointment with Christina. I have suspected this for some time. Eleonora. [Placing her hand over the papers.] AVell, what have you suspected? Speak out, you wicked man, who think only evil! This letter 41 EASTEE AND STOKIES holds nothing but good, for I know Christina, who is to be my sister-in-law. This meeting will ward off a misfortune from brother Elis. Promise me that you will be silent, Benjamin? Benjamin. I don't think I should dare speak of this. Eleonora. What mistakes people make who have se- crets ! — They think themselves wise, and are fools. — But what was I doing over there 1 Benjamin. Yes, why are you curious? Eleonora. You see, that is my malady : I must know all, or I become uneasy. Benjamin. Know all? Eleonora. It is a failing which I cannot overcome. — All the same, I know what the starlings say ! 42 EASTER Benjamin. But they can't speak? Eleonora. Have you never heard starlings that were taught to speak? Benjamin. That were taught — yes. Eleonora. Well, then, starlings can learn to speak. Now, there are some who teach themselves, or are automatoms — they sit and listen, without our knowing it, of course, and then they repeat. I heard a pair of them, just before I came in, that sat in a walnut tree and chattered. Benjamin. How droll you are ! But what did they say 1 Eleonora. ''Peter!" said one. "Judas!" said the other — "You're another!" said the first — "Fy, fy!" said the second. Have you marked 43 EASTEE AND STORIES that tlie nightingales sing only in the deaf mutes' garden, close by? Benjamin. Yes, that is known; but why do they do sol Eleonoea. Because those who have ears do not hear what the nightingales say, but the deaf mutes hear it. Benjamin. Tell me some more stories ! Eleonora. Yes, if you are good. Benjamin. How good? Eleonora. You must never measure words with me and never say: ''Thus you said then, and then you said thus." Shall we talk more about birds? There is a wicked bird called the rat- buzzard, who, as one can hear by his name, lives upon rats. And since he is a bad bird, it has to ■44 EASTER be very difficult for him to catch rats. That is why he can say only one word, and it sounds as when the cat says ''mieou." Now, when the buzzard says ''mieou" the rats run and hide, so he is very often without food because he's bad. Want to hear more — or shall I talk about flow- ers I When I was ill, I had to take a drug made from henbane, which has the peculiar quality of turning the eye into a magnifying glass. — Bel- ladonna, on the other hand, makes one see everything diminished — and now I see farther than others, for I can see the stars in broad daylight. Benjamin. But the stars are not out? Eleonoea. How amusing you are ! The stars are always out. Now I sit facing north, looking at Cas- siopae, which resembles a W, and sits in the centre of the ''Milky Way." Can you see it? Benjamin. No, I can not! 45 EASTER AND STORIES Eleonoka. Now bear this in mind, that one person can see what another cannot, therefore be not so certain of your eyes. I was going to speak of the flower on the table: It is an Easter lily which belongs in Switzerland, and has a chalice that has absorbed sunshine ; therefore it is yel- low, and soothes suffering. As I came along, I saw it in a florist's window and wanted to pre- sent it to brother Elis. '\¥hen I was about to enter the shop, I found the door locked — it is evidently Confirmation Day to-day. As I had to have the flower, I took out my keys and tried them. Fancy! My door-key fitted — I walked in. Do you understand the silent language of flowers? Each fragrance expresses many, many thoughts; these thoughts assailed me, and, with my magnified eye, I looked into their workshops, which no one has seen, and they spoke to me of their sorrows brought upon them by the stupid gardener — I do not say cruel, for he is only thoughtless. Then I laid a krona, with my card, upon the counter, took the flower and walked out. 46 EASTER Benjamin. How tbougiitless ! But think if tliey should miss the flower, and do not find the money I Eleonora. That never occurred to me ! Benjamin. A coin can disappear so easily, and if only your card is found, you are lost ! Eleonoea. Surely no one thinks that I would take any- thing — Benjamin. [Regards her steadily.'] No? Eleonoea. [Scrutinizes him as she rises.'] Ah! I know what you mean — ''Like father, like child." How thoughtless of me ! Wliat — no ! AYhat is to be, will be. [Seats herself.] Let it come, then! Benjamin. Can't one adjust this matter? 47 EASTEE AND STOEIES Eleonora. Hush! and talk of something else — Profes- sor Algren ! Poor Elis ! poor all of us ! But it is Passion Week and we must suffer. There's a concert to-morrow — Haydn's "Last words from the Cross" — "Mother, behold thy Son!" [She huries her face in her hands, and weeps.} Benjamin. "What sort of illness have you had? Eleonora. "This illness is not unto death, but for the glory of God! When I looked for good, then evil came unto me ; and when I waited for light there came darkness." What was your child- hood like, Benjamin? Benjamin. I don't know. — Stupid, as I recall it — and yours? Eleonora. I never had any. I was born old. I knew all at my birth, and when I learned anything it was just like remembering. I knew the thought- 48 EASTER lessness and ignorance of men when I was only four years old; therefore they were cruel to- ward me. Benjamin. All that you say I, too, seem to have thought. Eleonoka. • I daresay you have. What made you sup- pose that my coin might be lost at the florist's? Benjamin. Because the exasperating thing always has to happen. Eleonora. So you, also, have observed this. — Hush! someone is coming. [Glancing up stage.] I hear Elis' step. What joy! The best friend I have on earth! [She becomes apprehensive.] But he's not expecting me, and he won't be glad to see me — indeed he won't! Benjamin, Ben- jamin, show a smiling face and a cheerful spirit when my poor brother comes ! I'll step in here so that you may prepare him for my arrival. But no hard words; they hurt so. Do you 49 EASTEE AND STOEIES hear? Give me your hand! [Benjamin puts forth his hand. Eleonora kisses him on the head.] There! Now you are my little brother. God bless and keep you! [She exits left and, in passing, she pats the sleeve of Elis' coat affectionately.] Poor Elis! [Elis enters at centre door looking troubled. Fru Heyst comes on from kitchen.] Elis. Why, there's mother! Fru Heyst. Was it you? I fancied I heard a strange voice. Elis. I have some news to tell you. I met the at- torney on the street. Feu Heyst. Well? Elis. The case will now go to the higher courts, and in order to save time, I must read through all the official records of the trial. 50 EASTER Feu Hbyst. You'll soon do that. Elis. [Indicating documents on writing table.'] Ah, I thought it was over! And now I must worry through this entire passion-story — all the accusations, all the testimony, all the evi- dence over again! Frit Heyst. Yes, but then he will be acquitted by the higher courts. Elis. No, mother ; he has confessed. Fetj Heyst. Yes; but that can be a "technical error" the attorney said when last I talked with him. Elis. He said that to comfort you. Fru Heyst. Aren't you going to the dinner? 51 EASTER AND STOEIES Elis. No. Feu Heyst. So yon have changed your mind again ! Elis. Yes. Fku Heyst. That sort of thing is bad. Elis. I know it, but I'm tossed like a straw between breakers. Feu Heyst. I thought just now that I heard a strange voice — one known to me ; but I must have heard wrongly. {^Pointing to overcoat.'] That coat shouldn't hang there, I told you! [Exits right. Elis crossing to left sees the Easter lily.'] Elis. [To Benjamin.] Where did that flower come from? 52 EASTER Benjamin. A young lady brought it. Elis. Lady! What does this mean! Who was it? Benjamin. It was — Elis. Was it — my sister? Benjamin. Yes. Elis. [Sinks down into a chair at table. Pause.} Did you speak with lier? Benjamin. Yes indeed! Elis. God! is it not enough yet? Was she cross to you? Benjamin. She? No, she was kind, oh, so kind! 53 EASTER AND STORIES Elis. Strange I Did she speak of me? Was she very angry with me? Benjamin. On the contrary, she said that you were her best and only friend on earth — Elis. What an extraordinary change I Benjamin. And when she went she patted your coat — there, on the sleeve. Elis. Went — where did she go? Benjamin. {Pointing toward door at left.] In there. Elis. She is there now? Benjamin. Yes. 54 EASTER Elis. You look so pleased and happy, Benjamin I Benjamin. She talked to me so beautifully — Elis. What did she talk about? Benjamin. She told stories, and then there was a good deal about religion — Elis. IRising.] Which made you happy? Benjamin. Yes. Elis. Poor Eleonora! who is so unhappy herself, and yet can bring joy to others. [Moving slowly toward left.] God forgive me ! Curtain. 55 ACT TWO. GOOD FKIDAY. Music played before this act: ''Seven Last Words from the Cross' ' (Haydn). Largo No. I, ''Pater dimitti illis." Scene: Same as act one. Curtains drawn, light from street lamp shining through them; hanging lamp lit. On dining table is a small paraffin lamp lighted. Fire in the stove. Elis and Christina seated at sewing table, idle. At dining table, facing each other, sit Eieonora and Benjamin, reading. Eleonora has a shaivl drawn across her shoulders. All are dressed in black; Elis and Benjamin wear white cravats. Spread out on ivriting table are the documents of the trial; on sew- ing table is the Easter lily and on writing table stands an old clock. Now and then can be seen on the curtain the shadow of a passer- by. Elis. [Speaking in an undertone to Christina.'] Good Friday! But how insufferably long! The snow is spread over the pavement, like straw in front of the house of the dying. Every sound is hushed, save the bass notes from the organ, which can be heard all the way here. 59 EASTER AND STORIES Christina. Mother must have gone to Vespers. Elis. Yes, for she dared not appear at High Mass — the stares of the people wound her. Christina. These people are a queer lot ! They demand that we shall keep aloof; they deem it fitting and proper. Elis. Perhaps they are right — Christina. Because of one person's misstep, the whole family is outlawed. Elis. Such is life! [Eleonora pushes lamp toward Benjamin, so that he will see better.] Christina. [To Elis] Isn't that a pretty picture ! And they get on so well together. 60 EASTER Elis. How fortunate that Eleonora is so tranquil. — If it will only last ! Christina. Why shouldn't it? Elis. Because — happiness doesn't usually last very long. I fear everything this day ! [Ben- jamin cautiously pushes lamp toward Eleonora, that she may see better.] Have you observed how changed Benjamin is? The old sullen de- fiance has given way to a calm submissiveness. Christina. How sweet she is ! — Her whole being radiates an indefinable charm. Elis. And she brings with her an angel of peace that moves about, unseen, breathing a tender calm. Even mother appeared calm when she saw her — a calm which I had not expected. 61 EASTEE AND STORIES Christina. Do you think she has entirely recovered? Elis. Yes, if only this oversensitiveness were gone. Now she is reading the story of the Crucifixion, and, at times, she weeps. Christina. I remember how we always did this at school on Wednesdays during Lent. Elis. Don't speak so loud; her hearing is very acute. Christina. Not now — she is so far away. Elis. Have you marked that Benjamin's features have taken on a certain air of dignity and breed- ing? Christina. Suffering has done that. Joy makes every- thing commonplace. 62 EASTER Elis. Perhaps it is love, rather. Don't you think those children — Cheistina. Hush, hush, hush ! Mustn't touch the butter- fly's wings, for then she'll fly away! Elis. They are probably gazing at each other and only pretend to be reading: for they turn no leaves as I can hear. Cheistina. Hush! Elis. See, now she cannot control herself — [Eleonora rises, walks over to Benjamin and places her shawl over his shoulders. He pro- tests mildly at first, then yields. Eleonora goes back to her place, seats herself and pushes lamp toward Benjamin.'] Cheistina. Poor Eleonora! She doesn't know how well she means. 63 EASTER AND STORIES Elis. [Rising.] Now I'll return to my documents. Christina. Can you see any purpose in this reading f Elis. One only — to keep up mother's hope. Al- though I, too, only pretend that I'm reading, yet there are words that pierce my eyes like thorns — Statements of witnesses; figures; fa- ther 's admissions — thus : ' ' The defendant with tears confessed — " So many tears, so many tears ! And these papers, with their seals, that suggest counterfeit bank notes, or prison locks ; the strings and the red seals are like the Saviour's five wounds; and the sentences which never end, the everlasting pangs — this is Good Friday penance! Yesterday the sun shone; yesterday we traveled to the country — in our thoughts — Christina, suppose we have to stay here all summer! Christhsta. Then we should save a good deal of money — but it would be disappointing. 64 EASTEE Elis. I should never live through it ! I have spent three summers here, and it's like a grave. It is midday uo'^, and oue sees the long gTay streets winding, like trenches — not a human being, not a horse, not a dog anywhere! But up from the drains come the rats, whilst the cats are off on their summer cruises. The few persons who are left in town, sit gating into reflex-mirrors at their neighbor's clothes. '^See, he is wearing his winter clothing!" — and at their neighbor's run-down heels, and their neighbor's faults. — And from the quarters of the poor, the maimed and decrepit who, until now, were in seclusion, come crawling out — creatures without noses and ears, wicked wretches, and unfortunates. They sit on the great promenade, exactly as if they had con- quered the city, where but lately pretty, well- dressed children played, cheered on by tender and encouraging words from their beautiful mothers. Now the place is infested with a ragged horde who curse and torment ea JUBAL SANS EGO "She denies me!" "As you denied yourself, and your mother!" "AVhy did you take my will from me when I was a child?" "You gave your will to a woman." "I had to, otherwise I would never have gotten her. But why did you say that I didn't have any will ? ' ' "AYliy, that was father's notion, my child; he knew no better. Forgive him now, for he is dead. For that matter, children shouldn't have any will, but grown-up men should." "Fancy! how could you smooth that out so well, mother? Children mustn't have it, but grown-ups must have it." "Listen, Gustaf !" said the mother; "Gustaf Klang— " These were his two names, and when he heard them, he was himself again. All roles — kings and demons, maestros and models — vanished, and he was just his mother's son. Then he buried his head in her lap and sobbed : "Now I want to die ! I want to die !" 247 BLUE WING FINDS THE GOLD POWDER BLUE WING FINDS THE GOLD POWDER The rich man once paid a visit to the poor island, and fell in love with it. Why, the rich man could not tell; but he was enchanted with it. Possibly the place recalled some half-for- gotten memory of childhood, or a beautiful dream. He bought the island, built him a villa and planted all kinds of fine trees, bushes and flow- ers. The sea lay beyond it, and he had his own private landing, with a flag-staff and white boats. Oaks as tall as cathedrals shaded his house, and fresh winds swept over green meadows. He had a wife and children; serv- ants and horses. He had everything. Yet one thing was wanting: it was a little thing, but the most important of all, and this he had forgotten to think of — it was spring water. They dug wells there and blasted rock, but only brownish salt water came. It was filtered, became as 251 EASTER AND STORIES clear as crystal, but remained salty. Herein lay the tragedy I In those times there came a man blessed of God, who had succeeded in all his undertakings, and was one of the most famous men in the world. We are told how he struck his diamond staff into the rock and, like Moses, made the rock send forth water. Now they were to bore with a diamond drill, as they had bored in rocks elsewhere, and got water from all. They bored here for a hundred riksdaler, for a thousand, for several thousand — but only salt water came. Here there was obviously no blessing! And the rich man carefully noted that one does not get all things for money — not even a drink of fresh water, when luck's against one. Then he became discouraged, and life no longer smiled. The schoolmaster on the island, in the meanwhile, began to pore over old books, and sent for a wise old man who went about with a divining-rod; but this didn't help matters. Then the priest, who was even wiser, one day called the school children together and prom- ised a reward to the one who could find an herb, 252 BLUE WING FINDS THE POAVDER called Gold Powder, which showed you where there were water-veins. "It has flowers like Lady's-Mantle and leaves like Almond blossoms, and is also called Golden Saxifrage. And it looks as if it had gold dust on the outer leaves. Now, remember!" ''Flowers like Lady's-Mantle and leaves like Almond blossoms," repeated the children. Then they ran into the woods and over the plains to search for the Gold Powder. None of the children found it. A little boy actually came home with Fox Bane, which has a little gold on the top. But it is poisonous, and it was not the right one. Finally they grew weary of the search. But there was a little girl, who did not as yet go to school. Her father was a dragoon, owned a little croft, and was more poor than rich. His only treasure was the little daughter, and in the village she was called by the pretty name of Blue Wing, because she always wore a sky-blue jacket, with wide sleeves, that flapped when she moved. Blue-wing, as a matter of fact, is a little blue butterfly, which is seen on the grass 253 EASTER AND STORIES blades in the height of summer. And its wings resemble the petals of the corn-flower — a flying corn-flower with feelers, where the stamens sit. Blue Wing — the dragoon's Blue Wing — was an unusual child, who talked so sensibly, but so strangely that no one knew where her words came from. All people and animals too liked her. Chick- ens and calves followed her, and she dared to pat even the bull. She frequently went out alone, stayed away and came back again. But when they asked where she had been, she could not tell; yet she had so much to relate. She had seen uncommon things, and had met both old men and great ladies, who had said this and that. The dragoon let her run on, for he sur- mised that there was someone who guarded her. • • • One morning Blue Wing went otf on a tramp. Through meadows and groves she directed her nimble feet, singing to herself — mostly songs no one had ever heard before, but which came to her. The morning sun shone as voung as if it were newly born; the air felt strong and wide 254 BLUE Wma FINDS THE POWDER awake; the dew rose, and its liealtliy moisture cooled the little face. As she entered the forest she met a green- clad man. ''Good day, Blue Wing," said the old man. ''I'm the gardener at Sungleam. Come with me and you shall see my flowers." "Too great an honor for me!" replied Blue Wing. "No indeed! for you have never tortured plants." Then they walked along together and came to the strand. Here there was a pretty little bridge which led to an island, and thither they went. That was a garden! In it there was every- thing — big and little, and it was planned like a book! He himself lived in a house built of growing ever-green trees — pine, spruce, juniper — dressed in their foliage. The floors were made of growing ever-green bushes and herbs. Moss and lichen grew in the cracks in the floor, to keep the water out. Crow-berry, bear-berry and twin-flower made up the boards. The ceil- 255 EASTER AND STORIES ing consisted of maiden-hair fern, honeysuckle, clematis and ivy. It was so thick that not a drop of rain came through. Outside the door stood bee-hives, but, in place of bees, butterflies lived there, and when they swarmed out, it was a vision! "I do not like to torture bees," said the old man, ''and, besides, they are so ugly! Why, they look like hairy cotfee beans, and they sting too, like adders." Then they went out into the garden. "Now you shall read in Nature's A-B-C book. You shall learn the secrets of flowers and make the acquaintance of herbs; but you must not question — only listen and answer. See, child ! on this gray stone grows something which looks like gray paper. It is the first thing that appears when the mountain gets wet. The rock moulds; the mould is called lichen. Here we have two kinds: one resembles the reindeer's antlers, and is also called reindeer moss. It is the reindeer's principal food. The other is called Iceland lichen, and resembles — what does it resemble ?" 256 BLUE WING FINDS THE POWDER "It resembles a lung, for it says so in the natural science book." "Yes, under a magnifying glass it is like tlie air-passages in the lung, and from that peo- ple learned to use it in lung diseases, you see. Now, when the mountain lichen has gathered soil, the moss comes. This has a species of flower that is simpler, and sows seeds. This resembles ice-fern, but you will see that it is also like heather and fir-trees and everything, for all growths are related. This feather-moss resembles the pine, but it has seed-vessels like the poppy, though simpler. With the moss the heather will soon be growing. If you look now at the heather through a powerful magnifying glass, it becomes a milk-weed — epilobium, in Latin, or a rhododendron — exactly like the elder. The soil-carpet is now ready, and in the food-earth everything grows. Mankind, for their uses, have appropriated a good many growths, and Nature herself has taught them which ones thev must take, and how thev should be used. This is not more remarkable than the adornments and colors that have been bestowed 257 EASTER AND STORIES upon the flowers, to let the insects know where the honey is. Look at the flax, the most useful of all growths — for the flax itself taught people how to spin. Only peep into the flower and you '11 find the flax-head where the threads wind themselves around the bobbin, which whirls round the spindle. "In order to express herself more clearly, Na- ture let a little parasite wind itself around the whole plant, up and down and back and forth, like the loom. Strange that it was not a human being, but a butterfly that first discovered that flax could be spun. Her name is Flax-Tucker, and from the leaves she spins, with her own silk, little cradle-quilts and sheets for her chil- dren. After the flax once starts growing, she is wise and makes the most of her time, so that her little ones will be ready to fly before the flax is picked. ''And in the medicinal herbs you may believe. Look at this big poppy — flame-red as fever and madness ! But in the heart of the flower is a black cross. That is the apothecary's poison label. And in the centre of the cross there is a fluted Roman vase. If you rip these flutes, the 258 BLUE WING FINDS THE POWDER healing fluid, which can cause death if wrongly used, runs out ; but it can give you Death's good brother, Sleep, when used rightly. — Yes, so wise and open-hearted is Nature ! But now we will take a look at the Gold Powder." Here he made a pause to see if Blue Wing was curious ; but she was not. "Now we shall look at the Gold Powder." Another pause! No, Blue Wing could hold her tongue, although she was so little. "Noiv we'll look at the Gold Powder with the lady's-mantle-flowers and the saxifrage-leaves. These are her distinguishing features, which tell you where the spring is. The Lady's-Man- tle gathers both dew and water in its leaves, and in itself is a little clear spring; but the Saxifrage blasts rock.^ Without mountains you get no springs — the mountains can be any distance away. This the Gold Powder says to those who understand. She grows here on the island, and you shall know the place, because you are good. From your little hand shall the rich man receive the fresh water for his dry 1 Saxifrage — Latin Saxum, stone; frango, break; the place to break into rock for water. 259 EASTER AND STORIES soul, and through you shall this island be blessed. Peace be with you, my child ! AVlien you come into the nut-forest, you'll find a silver linden to the right; under it lies a copperhead snake that isn't dangerous. He will show you the way to the Gold Powder. Before you go, you must give the old man a kiss — but not un- less you wish to do so yourself." Blue Wing pursed up her little mouth and kissed him. Then the old man's countenance was transformed, and he stood there — fifty years younger ! "I have kissed a child and youth has come back to me!" said the gardener, "and you owe me no thanks. Farewell!" Blue Wing went into the nut-forest. There the silver-lindens played and the humming- birds sang to their accompaniment, in the lin- den-blossoms. The copperhead snake lay there, sure enough ! but it looked a bit rusty. "Why, there's Blue Wing, who is to have the Gold Powder!" said the copperhead snake. "You shall have it, but only on three conditions : — Don't gossip; don't deceive; and don't be 260 BLUE WING FINDS THE POWDER curious! Now go straight ahead, and you'll find the Gold Powder." Blue Wing went straight ahead. Soon she met a lady. ' ' Good day ! ' ' said the lady. ' ' Have you been at the gardener's in Sungieam!" "Good day," answered Blue Wing, and walked on. "You do not gossip, at all events," said the lady. Then she met a gipsy. "Where are you going to?" asked the gipsy. "I'm going straight ahead," replied Blue Wing. "And you don't deceive," said the gipsy. And then she met a milk carrier. But she couldn't understand why the horse sat in the wagon and the milkman was harnessed to the shafts. "Now I'll shy," said the driver, and started running so that the horse fell into the ditch. "Now I'll water the rye," said the driver, tak- ing the cover off a milk bottle to sprinkle the field. 261 EASTEE AND STORIES Blue Wing must have thought it queer, yet she did not glance in that direction, but walked on. ''Nor are you curious," said the milk car- rier. And now Blue Wing stood at the foot of a mountain. The sun shone in between the hazel bushes on a green row of juicy herbs, that glittered like the purest gold. Here was the Gold Powder ! And Blue Wing saw how it followed the water-veins from the mountain down to the rich man's meadow. Then she got down on her hands and knees and plucked three Gold Powders, which she hid in her pinafore. With these she went home to her father. The dragoon donned his cloak, his helmet and his sabre. Then they went to the priest. Later, all three went together to the rich man. "Blue Wing has found the Gold Powder!" said the priest when he reached the dining-hall door. "And now we are all rich! The whole village is rich, for we shall have a bathing resort." And it became a bathing resort. Steamers 262 BLUE WING FINDS THE POWDER and merchants came; there were a hotel and a post office, doctors and apothecaries. Gold poured into the village in summer. And this is the story of the Gold Powder, that could make gold. 263 STEWART & KIDD COMPANY, PUBLISHERS Most Important Biography of Years GEORGE BERNARD SHAW: His Life and Works. A Critical Biography. (AutJiorized.) By Archibald Henderson, M. A., Ph. D. With two plates in color {one, the frontispiece, from an autochrome hy Alvin Langdon Coburn, the other from a water color by Bernard Partridge) two photo- gravures, 26 plates on art paper, and numerous illus- trations in the text. In one volume, demy 8vo. Cloth and gilt top. Net, $5.00 This remarkable book, upon which the author has been at work for more than six years, is the authentic biography of the great Irish dramatist and socialist. In order to give it the authority which any true biog- raphy of a living man must possess, Mr. Shaw has aided the author in every possible way. The book is based not only on the voluminous mass of Mr. Shaw's works, published, uncollected in book form or unpublished, but also on extensive data furnished the author by Mr. Shaw in person. A masterly and monumental volume, it is a history of Art, Music, L(iterature, Drama, Sociology, Phi- losophy, and the general development of the Ibsen- Nietzschean Movement in Morals for the last thirty years. The Press are unanimous in their praise of this wonderful work. The Dial: "In over five hundred pages, with an en- ergy and carefulness and sympathy which deserve 265 STEWART & KIDD COMPANY, PUBLISHERS high commendation, Dr. Henderson has presented his subject from all conceivable angles." The Bookman: "A more entertaining narrative whether in biography or fiction has not appeared in recent years." The Independent : "Whatever George Bernard Shaw may think of his Biography the rest of the world will probably agree that Dr. Henderson has done a good job." 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It deals with vital subjects ; mind cure, prevention of nervous diseases, the alcohol question, social disease, medical inspection of schools, defectives and delinquents, eugenics, etc. The book will interest everybody. Dr. Charles Fred- eric Goss says of these essays : ' ' They touch upon the most vital things of life. In every quality which I think to be of value they excel." 12mo. Handsomely hound. Net, $1.25 The Soul and Sex in Education. Basic Principles for Parents and Teachers. By Dr. J. D. Buck. Basic principles for parents and teachers. The whole question of sex seems to have been in confusion since 267 STEWART & KIDD COMPANY, PUBLISHERS the beginning of time. The cause of this confusion and the resulting degradation is ignorance. The above-named book does not presume to settle this vexed question once for all, but it does make clear certain foundation principles and basic laws of hu- man life and conduct, upon which a noble life and a clean character can alone be built. It should be as helpful to the adult as in the education of the child. It is based upon many years of careful study and the best possible opportunity for observation and, therefore, deals wdth facts rather than theories. The book should be in the hands of every teacher of the young, no less than of every parent. Frontispiece. 12mo. Silk cloth. Net, $1.25 The Hamlet Problem and its Solution. By Emerson Venable, Author of '"Poets of Ohio." In this volume the author advances a new and revo- lutionary theory which affords an adequate solution to a baffling literary problem of world-wide interest. 12mo. Handsomely hound. Net, $1.00 How to Grow 100 Bushels of Corn per Acre on Worn Soil. By Wm. C. Smith, of Indiana. A most useful and interesting book. The author is a practical farmer, and in a practical way makes the conservation of soil plain. The growing efficiency of the Government agriculture department and agricul- tural schools in recent years has added greatly to the knowledge possessed by the farmers of the methods best suited to increase their crops. This volume as the title suggests, wall prove of inestimable value, and if its teachings are followed by the farmers through- 268 STEWART & KIDD COMPANY, PUBLISHERS out the country, it will revolutionize the art of farm- ing and make it a most profitable business. As one man says, "You make conservation of the soil plain and practical ; you present a difficult problem in such a good common sense way." Twenty-four full page illustrations. 12mo. Silk doth. Net, $1.25 Practical Orcharding on Rough Lands. By Shepard Wells Moore, Practical Horticulturist. A practical book, elaborately illustrated, containing chapters on Orcharding as a Business, Location, Drainage, The Aspect, Windbreaks, Preparation of the Site, Laying Off the Orchard, Selection and Care of the Nursery Stock, Planting the Tree, Care and Cultivation, Pruning, Spraying, Picking, Packing and Marketing. Forty-eight illustrations. 12mo. Cloth. Net, $1.50 Bird Studies for Home and School. By Herman C. DeGroat, M. A. Sixty common birds, their habits and haunts. Forty full page colored illustrations. Large 8vo. Handsomely illustrated. Net, $2.00 269 Uate I'ue FACILITY 7i\ 000 652 335 1 HAL BOOK SERVICE liiiiil^^^^^^^^^^^ iiiiiiilii :il''ilii!ilii i'l! ' ' ■ i'l iiiifir "ill HiilM;!!.:!!! i ■ ! ;::iiu