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Page 55 text:
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The Elephant By HAROLD PRINCE And the blrnd men placed therr hands upon the elephant and each descr1bed the ammal accordlng to h1s own lmpressrons An old story NCE upon a trme 1n the State of Berng there lrved a young Poet and a sturdy Peasant They were fr1ends and nerghbors Therr humble huts bordered upon the Rrver of Lrfe whrch ran through the country and ended somewhere-one knew not exactly rn a dark and thrckly wooded forest At the trme our story commences Wrnter was fast retreatrng before the steady advance of Sprrng Along the face of the earth green shoots of grass rntruded themselves above the ground Feathered creatures wrng mg therr way back from the south land began to appear upon the branches of the awakenrng trees twrtterrng songs of gladness Even approprrately enough domrnance to the note of joy And above all earthly thrngs a br1ll1ant sun shed 1ts rays of warmth It was durrng thrs season that the Poet awoke one mornrng to wrtness the glorrous spectacle of the r1s1ng sun as lf topped the purple mountarn a drstance from hrs hut Ah he recrted even as he was lyrng 1n bed Sprrng the sweet Sprrng IS the year s pleasant krng Then blooms each thrng then rnards dance rn a rmg Cold doth not strng the pretty brrds do srng Cuckee jug Jug pu we to wrtte wee The Peasant chanced to pass by the hut just then and knowrng the Poet for a man of foolrsh actrons he thought that the poor Poet had at last taken leave of h1s senses Open 1n0 the door cautrously for he feared violence the Peasant saw h1s nergh bor srttrng naked on the bed gazrng rapturously out of the wrndow Why man he crred you can t do that People pass by here B srdes youll get pneumonra These words of wrsdom had no effect upon the Poet s behavror Now be sensrble pleaded the Peasant drsturbed by hrs nerghbor s srlence You really mutt put some The Poet slowly turned h1s head toward the Peasant Are you the harbrnger of Sprrng brrngrng wrth you the sweet song of brrds and the pleasant scent of flowers? he asked 1n a low pleasant vorce The devrl Im not the Peasant exclarmed vrolently Now lrsten here Lollrng 1n bed t1ll mrd day and srngmg srlly songs about flowers arent gorng to mend the holes 1n your trousers I hke songs myself at trmes but you Evrdently he was drsgusted Look at your house he contrn ued Its filthy Try cleanmg rt 7 tl l . 7 I 7 I 7 7 ' ' 7 7 7 QT sb , u u , - . 7 , . u ,U ' 7 tt 1 . . e- ' - 1 - ar , . f , I - QQ 0 73 1 7 . , . . , , 9 the frogs, discordant symphony gave, thing OH-H 7 . , . , U - - 7 , . , 7 Q1 ' 7 777 ll 7, ' . q n . 1 1 7 7 . ' , . . . 7 7 . , , l .,-u..-n-4ava ' ll I, ' 1 a ' 1 o ll 7 ' ' ., I , Page Fifty-one
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Page 54 text:
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ed He slrd slowly down the ropes and felt them burnrng h1s back as he drd so and at last he fell forward and sprawled out at Edwards feet 0.CanT rt He Slld down slowly down the ropes The great roar of the crowd shoutlng fllled h1s ears and made hrm thrnk of what a cruel game lf was Thank God he was gettrng out tonrghtl Everythrnv went black rn front of 1m Frnrs When Jrmmy entered h1s dressrng room Thorne was srttmg wrth h1s head rn h1s hands He looked up and smrled mrrthlessly he sard rn a weary vorce Im too old for thrs game Im an old man And so I don t know I can fight a b1t yet Maybe I could make a come back You were rrght jrmmy I thrnk Ill get out tr Lrke Morton SP sald rmmy smrlrng farntly deep breath and looked at hrs rrght hand After all Morton was Morton and Thorne was Thorne And so I can qurt thrs game any trme I want he sald confidently decervrng hrmself to the end You were wrong there jrmmy But I dont want to now Im not too old for the fight mg game I can come back I will come back The game 7 3 . I 7 J -- ' ' . . . S '11, ' Like Morton's? Thorne drew a ' 7 7 6 - v n u .... 7U . 7 I , . . 4 7 ' 7 . v ' l ,, . O ' h . . . . . . Dag: Fzfty
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Page 56 text:
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sometimes, It might do you some good. The Poet, bewildered, struggled with his trousers while the other angrily marched off For the ICSI of the morning neither the Poet nor the Peasant sought to engage each other in conversation The Peasant silently busied himself chopping wood milking his cows and watering his plants All the while the Poet sat moodily watchin his neighbor at work wishing for an opportunity to resume their friend ship but unwilling to make the first advance And so he remained seated on his own doorstep silent medita tive and almost tearful Suddenly the Poet leaped up his arms outstretched The Peasant was approaching Now said the Peasant w know each other too well to squabble over these matters Of course the Poet assented eagerly Well the Peasant continued Im ready to take my annual pil grimage and for the six hundred and sixty fifth time Do you want to go? Oh exclaimed the other I I really couldn t do that All right replied the Peasant Then to the air as he walked away It is so foolish Why he might be as well off as any of us Walking and meditating so on his friends folly he arrived at length at a large hut where meeting a party of friends he set off on his Journey to consult the Oracle of Results an act strongly followed by the true be lievers The Poet however was one of the very few who refused to make the traditional pilgrimage He was a scoffer, a heretic-a harmless one, to be sure, but, nevertheless, a heretic. The orthodox were however tol erant not at all given to needless persecution So while the others trooped to the Holy City the Poet was left at home unmolested and free to do what he chose Why rbozzlal the orthodox care? Were not their larders filled with the bounty of Results while those of the Poet were empty? Let him eat the food of his folly' When the good citizens mentally compared their own tables groaning with fruit and fowl to the poor and barren tables of the Poet they inwardly praised the fate that had made them sane and prosperous The Holy City loomed high above the surrounding towns and villages No pilgrim however insensible to the appeal of art could help being impressed by the power and beauty of its structures The city indeed represented the perfected product of all that had been contributed by art and science a product which in short represented the harmonious 9 9 a ' ' 7 ' 7 7 ' 7 . 7 7 f ' ' tr 1 0 Q , . 7 a a ' , . 7 Cl 7? ' il 7 7 e Y? 7 7 7 7 7 ' . . ....the poet sat moodily .... Y! QR 73 ' I! I , . - 3 YP , 7 K! ' 7! ' 7 ' , 7 7 7 7 7 7 7 7 ' 7 7 ' 7 7 7 7 ' 7 Page Fzfzy-two
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