The Argosy — page 172: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Heads or Tails? 157 you, as quickly as you can, and bring in some cake or buns or some- thing or other intended to satisfy a man and not a pigmy.” ‘Wasn't it very cold down at the river?” Mrs. Hamilton asked, to divert her big boy until his hunger should be by way of being satisfied. “Cold? No, of course not! It’s sitting indoors over the fire that is cold work ; you never hear a man grumble when he’s out-of- doors and moving.” ‘Those trees in the garden,” said Cecil irrelevantly, turning from the window out of which he had been gazing, and speaking to Violet Danvers : “‘ those trees are types of the most glorious colouring! I never remember seeing the autumn tints so golden and red as they have been this year.” Types!’ why ‘types ?’” interposed Dick. ‘ But I will tell you what, Miss Danvers: I'll take you out in my Canadian canoe up the Cherwell (I believe I can manage it to-morrow morning), and then you will see the trees and types and all the rest of it to perfection, and have the additional pleasure of being in a boat along with me.” This last remark was made very playfully, and in a manner which could hardly have offended the most cross-grained critic. “My dear boy,” said his mother, ‘f you must remember that other people are not so enthusiastic as you on the subject of boating, and that to the ordinary mind ——” ‘Miss Danvers’ is not an ordinary mind, and I cannot think how you can dare to call her such! Now, please bear me out in my asser- tion,” turning to Violet, ‘‘and accept my offer with alacrity.” ‘“T do, Mr. Hamilton, for my own credit as well as yours.” This bantering seemed a foolish waste of time to Cecil, and he rejoiced when an engagement to dine out obliged Dick to go and dress, and left him once more in possession of the field. The evening was all Cecil’s own, and he spent the greater part of it in leaning quaintly over the back of a chair and airing his peculiar views for Violet’s especial benefit. When it began to get late and Violet might have proposed going upstairs, he sat down at the piano and played to her for more than an hour with exquisite taste and feeling, and without a single uote of music to help him in the production of these sweet sounds. Nowonder that when Violet fell asleep that night her head was full of superlatives, and in her dream she lived over again all the queer, sad, beautiful ideas which Cecil had sought to instil into her. She was too young yet to know how strained as well as how strange these new creeds must ever be. The next morning at breakfast, Cecil was quite silent, though this lassitude should in fairness be attributed more to nervous exhaustion than to laziness. Dick, like all thoroughly healthy people, was quite as “fit” in the morning as at any other time of the day, and after giving his audience a very funny account of his dinner the night before, and of “the stunning good songs which some of the fellows GOMIGIOOKSAGO