The Brimming Cup

n the Life of

y

dulum that swung in the Pit. Back and forth, back and forth, bringing nearer and nearer the knife-edge of its dire threat that nine o'clock would come and the children not be in school. Somehow they must all manage

s and her breakfast together, "I let you do this, this one time, Elly, but I don't

, "What a policeman I must seem to the child

m, her mouth full of oatmeal, "Delaware River, Newcastle, Br

y, ragged, ignorant, gloriously free little boy on a raft on the Mississippi river, for whom life was not measured out by the clock, in thimbleful doses, but who f

amusement the expression of slightly scared distaste which Eugenia had for the children. "Too crudely quivering lumps of life-matter for Eugenia's taste," she thought, and then, "I wonder what Marsh's feeling towards children really is, children in general. He seems to have the great

ther, Mark isn't even awake yet, a

today. Don't you remember? He doesn't ha

pulled two ways at once. Two ways! Most of us are pulled a thousand ways! It is one of the injustices of the earth that such people aren't loved as much as impulsive, selfish, brilliant natures like dear little Mark's.

of expectancy by his side. As the child turned the light of his countenance on those

ess of the protecting look which Paul gave to Médor, "All animals love Paul, anyhow. Animals know more than humans about lots of things. They haven't that horrid perverse streak in them that makes humans dislike people who are too often in the right. Pa

murmured Elly, swallowing down her chocolate

" thought Marise. "There are enough

lf, "Well, would it make any difference to those Viennese babies if I deprived my children of palatable food?" and was aware of a deep murmur within her, saying only half-artic

ark likes that. At fifty cents a pound! What awful prices. Well, Neale writes that the Canadian lumber is coming through. That'll mean a fa

rmality comes from lack of proper food. And those white-cheeked little Putnam children in the valley. They probably don't taste meat, except pork, more than once a week." She protested shar

self defiantly, "Oh, what has all this to do with us?" And was aware of

ouldn't I better just go ahead and have beefsteak today?" and wearily, "Yes, o

inking, "I'm a lovely specimen, anyhow, of a clear-he

bodily from his seat. Elly did not hear, her eyes fixed dreamily on her kitte

and touched her quietly. "Come, dear

a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the other side of the room, and thought, "

does it matter if I do? There's nothing in my l

books into her school-bag. Her face was rosy and calm with the sweet ineffable confidence of a good child who has only good intentions. As she packed her books together, she said, "Well, I'm ready. I'

sin Hetty used to look to me?" and startled and shocked that the idea kept recurring to her, assuming an i

an handkerchief? Oh, Elly, look at your nails! Here, hand me the nai

k, imaginative brain of hers! It's not so bad for Paul, but . . . oh, even for him what nonsense! Rules of grammar, names of figures of speech . . . stuff left over from scholastic hair-splitting! And the tributaries of rivers . . . !" She glanced up for an instant and was struck into remorse by the tranquil expression of peace in the little girl's clear eyes, bent affectionately on her mother. "Oh, my poor, darlin

be late if I don't go. And you know she scolds like everything if anybody's late." She

ind in three minutes in any Atlas if by any strange chance she should ever ever need to know about the tributaries of the Delaware. As well set

r blades at play. "Because if I told her it is nonsense, that wo

of respect? Ought even a little child to respect anything or anybody merely becaus

end the child to school, and keep her under her teacher, unle

e send her to school? She could lear

ellow-beings, keeps her from being 'queer' or different. She might suffer from it

ce for a moment, and now said, "Mother,

ain to a little girl. I was wondering whether I

s neck, crying, "Mother, I wish you never looked serious. I wish you were always laughing and cutting up, the way you used to. Seems to me since the war

Is that masculine jealousy, or real affection?" she asked herself, and then, "Oh, what a beast! To be analyz

where they stood all intertwined, stood up with his fore-paws against Paul. The kitten had been startled by his app

y for the kitten, who had retreated to the nape of her neck and was pricking sharp little pin-pointed claws through to the skin. The children danced about chiming out peals of laughter. The dog barked excitedly, standing on his hind-legs, and pawing first at one and then at another. Then Paul looked at the clock, and they al

he silence that comes when the children have just gone. Through it, heavy-footed and ruthles

, little call, "Mo-o-o-ther!"

ng and sleepy. She bent over him intoxicated by his beauty, by the fl

habit, the drug-habit, the baby-habit, the morphine habit . . . two different ways of getting away from reality." That was what Marsh had sa

head, out on the road in the dark, the other night, that Neale and I had let the flood-tide of emotion ebb out of our hearts! What could have put such a notion into my head?" What crazy, fanc

center of his pajama-clad body, but he kept the other hand and arm around his mother's neck, and held her close

, soaped skin came up from him. His moth

aughing richly, "y

, kicking his legs, pushing at her softly with his hands, reaching for the spot back of her ear. "I'll tickle you," he crowed, tussling with he

hen the little boy finally squirmed himself w

n his hands and knees. She retreated with a comic series of stiff-legged, sideways jumps, that

ken. Looking down on the laughing child, she said dutifully, "Mark, the floor's cold. You mustn't lie

he begged, rolling over to

great big boy like you, who goes to school. Get

you'll have to 'tay here, anyhow. You know I can't do those back buttons. An

you dawdle. Mother has a lot to do this morning. Remember,

knees before the beautiful, living body. "Oh, my son, the straight, strong darling! My precious little son!" She shook with that foolish aching

s shirt, "I've roden on a horse, and I've roden on a dog, and I've

k-like unexpectedness

, some day," she s

l," complained Mark. "And Elly a

the circus this year," his mother promis

rk, with his usual disregard of pos

tion. She found the newspaper under her hand, on the table, and picked it up. She had only glanced at the head-lines yest

his underwear, looked at her a

dollars. Italy land-grabbing. France frankly for anything except the plain acceptance of the principles we thought the war was to foster. The same reaction from those principles starting on a grand scale in America. Men in prison for having an opinion . . . what a hideous bad joke on all the world that fought for the Allies and for the holy principles they claimed! To thin

to fix her mind on what she read. But she could not stop the advance of what was coming. She let the newspaper fall with a shudder as the thought arrived, hissing, gliding with venomous swiftness along the familiar path it had so often tak

mself seriously to his buttons. "In fifteen ye

ther. To see them all go, husband and sons! Not another war! Let me live q

ly, and now said in a small voice, "Mother, I've tr

for a moment. He said, less resigned, impatience pricking through hi

ent, and then, leaning back, looked down moodily at her feet.

twilight fell in her heart. Melancholy came and sat down with her, black-robed. What could one feel except Melancholy at the sight of the world of humanity, p

still so that no chance movement should disturb that mood till it could be examined and challenged. T

m of her mind, lay still that discomfort at beginning to look like Cousin Hetty! And so that wound to her vanity had slowly risen again into her consciousness and clothed itself in th

an mere childish, silly vanity." She probed deep and brought up, "Yes, there is more to it. In the first place I was priggish and hypocritical when I tried to pretend that it was nothing to me when I looked in the glass and saw for the first time that my youth has begun to leave me. That w

tment in it, too, after all. There was the counsel of despair about everything, the pressure on us all to think that all efforts to be more than base are delusions. We were so terribly fooled with our idealistic hopes about the war . . . who knows bu

lling said to her, "There was someth

when you think that the pleasures of the senses are perhaps all there are. There was the inevitab

w she would not look, put her hands over her eyes, and stood in the dar

, "Have you got one of your headaches? The ma

ng a letter from Neale. She snatched at the handful of envelopes and sorted them over, her finger

ing drawn with heavenly swiftness up to the surface of the water. She tore open

What a relief it was to feel herself all one person,

alf-absently, wondering what it was. Her eyes fell on Touclé. Touclé was looking at her, Touclé who so seldom looked at anything. She felt a momentary co

he old Indian woman. "Won't you take him downstair