Bunker Bean

dreaming, might have been observed giving special attention to the articles in those rooms devoted to ancient Egypt. Doubtless, however, no one did observe him more than casually, for, th

s here exposed under glass, and he was sniffing, in spirit, at their lack of kingly dignity and their inferior state of preservation. Their wooden cases were often marred, faded, and broken. Their shrouding linen was frayed and stained. Their features we

be when he had passed on to another body, in accordance with the law of Karma. He would leave a sum to the museum authorities, specifically to build this room, and to it would come thousands, for a glimpse of the superior Ram-tah, last king of the pre-dynastic period, surviving in a state ca

ood. He had weighed himself with

steadily at it for a long time, had always seemed to put him in close touch with unknown forces. He had once tried to explain this to his Aunt Clara, who understood near

f a wise and good king. No longer could he play the coward before trivial adversities. He would direct large affairs; he would live big. Never again would he be afraid of deat

, in further due time, startle the world with his left-handed pitching. It was a

nd Lover." He even adjusted it, carelessly pretending that it was just any cravat, the first that had come to hand. But its colour was still too alarming. It-so he usually thought of the great Ram-tah-would have worn the cravat

one distinguished by a narrow red stripe on a backing of bronze, which the clerk who manoeuvred the sale assured him was "tasty." Also he commanded a suit of clothes

keeper of the royal granaries, a dependable accountant; a good enough man in his lowly station, but one who could never rise. His laxness in the manner of dress was seen to be ingrained, an incurable defect of soul. In the time of Ram-tah he had doubt

eriority and sharpened his relish for the mad jest of their present

y kings, oil kings-money kings? He thought it was not unlikely that he would first engage the world's notice as an express king. He had received those fifty shares of stock from Aunt Clara and regarded them as a presage of his coming directorship. B

very door. With considerable interest he studied the directors as they came and went. Most of them, like Breede, were men whose wealth the daily press had a habit of estimating in rotund millions. He regarded

Bean's ideal for correctness. From his gray spats to his top-hat, he was "dignified yet different," although dressing, for example, in a more subdued key than Bulger. Yet he was a constantly indignant looking ol

machine. On the whole, he felt sorry for Breede at times. P

iant future. Perhaps, after all, Bean as the blind poet

pecting that Tommy Hollins was not the man for Chubbins. He would prefer to see her the bride of an older man, two or

And she did not wait for him in the big car; she sat in his office, where, after she had inquired solicitously about his poor foot, she settled her gaze upon Bean. And Bean

y impression that the flapper, too, was more curious than alarmed about this. He see

ay, and it is not at all improbable that Breede fell a victim to what the termino

self in the way of them. He listened with admirably simulated interest to Grandma's account of the suffrage play for which she was rehearsing. She was to appear in

". It seemed to be especially needed, because the Hollins boy arrived after breakfast every day and left onl

flirting, whereupon he flung princip

who was quick to note this changed demeano

hat she didn't get it," added Grandma, na

rcophagus on the left bank of the Nile had been looted of its imperial occupant. Now he merely recalled a story about a King Cophetua and a beggar maid. It was a comparison that would hav

him alone, and her intimation was that he might talk freely, as to a woma

ut only once, because she talked; the girl in the business college who had pretty hair and always smiled when she looked at him; and anothe

ess, which he considered would be scandalous enough to compel a certain respect he seemed to find lacking in the old lady, but he saw quickl

ep one-too d

least as depraved as the conventio

He would teach her the danger of playing with fire. He would bring all of his arts and wiles to bear. True, in behaving thus he was conscious of fallin

lied to himself another phrase he seemed to

fairs of the heart. It was a kind of licensed madness. Endowed with the "artistic temper," you were not held accountable when you did

e. They did not talk much, yet they were acutely aware of each other. Sometimes the silence was prolonged to awkwardness, and one of them would jestingly offer a penny for the

per, but she refused to tell what it was, with a significance that left Bean in a tumultuous and pleasurable whirl of cowardice. Their hands flew apart rather self-consciously. Bean felt himself a scoundre

did she so persistently put herself in the way of it? She was alw

she would often brazenly leave them together after conducting them to remote nooks. She made no flimsy excuses. She se

symptoms of recovery. He ceased to be the meek man he was under actual suffering, and was sever

tones of genuine d

ng to be well enough to

urf near at hand, rehearsing her lines

fish little pi

if Pops goes," said the flappe

dma seemed to see th

e," she commande

to that pergola where Bean h

randma, and hersel

"Why, when I was your age-" She broke off suddenly,

he spoke slowly, softly, as one who would evoke phantoms. "Why, at your age," she turned slightly to the fla

g intently ahead to

ear, I remember the very moment he began to take notice of me, coming out of the log church one Sabbath. He only looked at me, that was all, and I had to pretend I didn't know. Then he came nights and sat in front of the big open fire, with all of us, at first. But after a little, the others would climb up the ladder t

en. The furniture was home-made, the table-ware was tin plates and pewter spoons and horn-handled knives, and a set of real china that Pa and Ma gave us-that was

grasped his hand, and he divined that sh

nd him to a good seminary. We were going to make a preacher out of him; and see the way he's turn

ress' was a hussy. He didn't know what the world could be coming to, when they allowed such goings-on. Poor Jim! I was still young when he went, and of course-but I couldn't. I'd had my man and I'd had my baby, and somehow I was through. I wanted to learn more ab

Grandma rose to her feet, tu

to watching young people sometimes-it seems as if they were like the young people in my day, and I think any young man tha

ragged phrases of abuse. She was again rehearsing her lines in the mob scene of the equal-suffrage play. At the head of her fellow mobs-women, she hurle

Demon, and a gardener crossing the grounds might have

silent. In Bean's mind was a confusion of many matters: Breede sleeping under a counter-peo

ere too long drawn. He got to his feet and the flapper was unaccountably standing beside him. It was too dark to see her face, but he knew that for once she was not looking at him; for once that head was bent. And the

of Napoleon havin

trange touch of her cheek brought him back to the awful thing he had done. His reason worked with a lightning quicknes

axed the embrace that had made a brute of him. The flapper had not screamed. She was facing hi

tchy breath, then she adjusted a stra

prisingly cool. "I knew it ever so l

s formless. "When did you first know?" she persisted.

but recalling her speech he had overheard, he had

. "Something went over me-just like t

raid of you," conf

nt to, could

ut I knew it had to

" he sym

s! We've broken glass! We break heads!" This was followed by "Ar! Ar! Ar!" m

hem, and went with awkward little hesitations up the wide walk to the Breede portal. To Bean's suddenly

dered what he ought to say. His sense of guilt was ov

e had confided his perplexity to her. "

an, meaning no

departure. She was regarding him now with

w you were," she announced, with an obv

d-ni

t she bestowed the little d

that he had wanted to call her "Chubbins!" He liked that nam

ght with shame that he had done enough for once. A pr

conversation across the net with no other than Thomas Hollins, Junior. She did not look up as the

m in the light of day. He smiled bitt