Harper's New Monthly Magazine Volume 139 June to November 1919 . widened to the village and became alane. He had her in arms before theirown gate. Wild clematis was in crownsthat looked like dirty soapsuds upon thehigh hedges. Little writhen thorn-treeswere aflame with berry on this mildDecember day. Yes, you goo an fetch him. Shelaughed a little, and took her face outfrom the folds of his greatcoat. Hellbe half off his silly old chump when hesees you. So he—who had been a shepherd anda soldier—went off alone, with his faceturning steadfast toward Westdean. Herejoiced in the solemn loneliness
Harper's New Monthly Magazine Volume 139 June to November 1919 . widened to the village and became alane. He had her in arms before theirown gate. Wild clematis was in crownsthat looked like dirty soapsuds upon thehigh hedges. Little writhen thorn-treeswere aflame with berry on this mildDecember day. Yes, you goo an fetch him. Shelaughed a little, and took her face outfrom the folds of his greatcoat. Hellbe half off his silly old chump when hesees you. So he—who had been a shepherd anda soldier—went off alone, with his faceturning steadfast toward Westdean. Herejoiced in the solemn loneliness of thehills. He whistled as he went. But thewhistling sounded hollow. When did hewhistle last—in a devil-may-care, freeway? He walked on. Westdean was lyingat his foot. The little enchantingCickmere River wriggled toward the kept his eyes from the sea, for he didnot love it. All he asked for was thehills by day and the cottage by the three of them in the cottage,nights! The cooking, the barking, thescolding, the fondling! He Vol. CXXXIX — No. 829 —5 The Light Which Is Darkness Take heed therefore, that the light which isin thee be not darkness.—Luke XI, 35. BY MARGARET DEL AND THE little Jewess sat and stared into the fire. Three of us Christianswere sitting there beside her; we had tried our best to entertainall of our guests—members of a little club of working-girls—butespecially we had tried to make conversation with this speechlessRussian. Our efforts were fruitless. The other girls answered volublyour platitudes about the weather, or the Christmas crowd in the shops,or whether there would be much of a* shut-down after New-Years. Butthe Jewess was silent, except to say, gently, in her guttural voice, Yes,or, No, when I asked some direct question. I almost gave it up andwas going to let her sit there, staring with mournful black eyes at theblazing logs; but I made a last effort: Tell me, I said, what do you Jews think of Christ?
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