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FORE:They reached the shore. Their baggage was placed on a large hand-cart, and they passed through the gateway of the Custom-house. A polite official, who spoke English, made a brief survey of their trunks; and, on their assurance that no dutiable goods were within, he did not delay them any further. The Japanese duties are only five per cent. on the value of the goods, and, consequently, a traveller could not perpetrate much fraud upon the revenue, even if he were disposed to do so.

FORE:They decided to go by the Northwestern Railway to Omaha. From the latter place they had no choice of route, as there was only a single line of road between Omaha and California.

FORE:Men of various trades were working in the shops at Asakusa, and their way of operating was of much interest to our young friends. A barber was engaged in arranging the hair of a customer; the forehead had been shaven, and the hair at the back of the head was gathered into a knot and thickly plastered, so as to make it stick and remain in place when turned over into a short cue. The customer knelt on the ground in front of a box that contained the tools of the operator's trade, and by his side was a portable furnace for heating water. The whole equipment was of very little value, and the expense of fitting up a fashionable barber's shop in New York would send hundreds of Japanese barbers on their way rejoicing.��Sir Thomas?�� he said. ��Won��t you come in? I answered the door myself, the servants have gone to bed. What can I do for you, sir?��

FORE:

FORE:He fixed his fine eyes on the fire, and became so like the figure of Jonah in the stained-glass window that Alice almost felt herself in Nineveh.

FORE:Till we look on the world from above."

FORE:The day, as Miss Propert had already discovered in her little stuffy den, was exceedingly hot and airless, and Keeling, when he had passed through the reverberating square and under the arch leading into the Cathedral Close, found it pleasant to sit down on one of the benches below the elm-trees, which soared loftily among the tombs of the disused graveyard facing the west front of the Cathedral. Owing to Miss Propert��s rapidity in typewriting he had left the Stores half an hour earlier than usual, and here, thanks to her, was half an hour of leisure gained, for which he had no imperative employment. The quiet gray graves with head-stones standing out from the smooth mown grass formed his foreground: behind them sprang the flying buttresses of the nave. They were intensely different from the decorations of the town-hall; they had, as he for all his ignorance in architecture could see, an obvious purpose to serve. Like the arm of a strong man akimbo, they gave the sense of strength, like the legs of{84} a strong man they propped that glorious trunk. They were decorated, it is true, and the decoration served no useful purpose, but somehow the carved stone-work appeared a work of love, a fantasy done for the pleasure of its performance, an ecstasy of the hammer and chisel and of him who wielded them. They were like flames on the edge of a smouldering log of wood. He felt sure that the man who had executed them had enjoyed the work, or at the least the man who had planned them had planned them, you might say, ��for fun.�� Elsewhere on the battlemented angles of the nave were grotesque gargoyles of devils and bats and nameless winged things with lead spouts in their mouths to carry off the rain-water from the roof. Commercially they might perhaps have been omitted, and a more economical device of piping have served the same purpose, but they had about them a certain joy of execution. There was imagination in them, something that justified them for all their nightmare hideousness. The people who made them laughed in their hearts, they executed some strange dream, and put it up there to glorify God. But the man who perpetrated the little pink granite pilasters on the town-hall, and the man who painted the lilies on the looking-glass above Mrs Keeling��s drawing-room chimney-piece had nothing to justify them. The lilies and the pilasters were no manner of good: there was a difference between them{85} the flying buttresses and the gargoyles. But the latter gave pleasure: they paid their dividends to any one who looked at them. So did the verses in Omar Khayyam to those who cared to read them. They were justified, too, in a way that No. 1 drawing-room suite was not justified for the ��117 that, with extras, it cost the purchaser."Ah, Richard, in there the war is all over."

FORE:It was for this reason, perhaps, that the action of the Clockwork man was all the more noticeable. To this day, not one of the persons present is certain as to whether or not this eccentric individual actually did laugh; but everybody is sure that such was his intention. There issued from his mouth, without a moment's warning, a series of harsh, metallic explosions, loud enough to be heard all over the ground. One compared the noise to the ringing of bells hopelessly cracked and out of tune. Others described it as being similar to[Pg 30] the sound produced by some person passing a stick swiftly across an iron railing. There was that suggestion of rattling, of the impingement of one hard thing against another, or the clapping together of steel plates. It was a horrible, discordant sound, brassy and resonant, varied between the louder outbursts by a sort of whirring and humming. Those who ventured to look at the Clockwork man's face during this extraordinary performance said that there was little change of expression. His mouth had opened slightly, but the laugh, if indeed it could be described as anything but a lugubrious travesty of human mirth, seemed to proceed from far down within him. And then the hideous clamour stopped as abruptly as it began. The Clockwork man had not altered his position during the proceedings; but Arthur Withers, who was watching him with feverish intensity from the pavilion, fancied that his ears flapped twice just after the noise had subsided.

FORE:He interrupted her.

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