effect　of　that　old　system　of　education！　　Chalk　and　chalk…dust！　　The
  Mediterranean　a　tinted　portion　of　the　map；　Italy　a　man's　boot　which　I
  drew　painfully；　with　many　yawns；　history　no　glorious　epic　revealing　as　it
  unrolls　the　Meaning　of　Things；　no　revelation　of　that　wondrous
  distillation　of　the　Spirit　of　man；　but　an　endless　marching　and　counter…
  marching　up　and　down　the　map；　weary　columns　of　figures　to　be　learned　by
  rote　instantly　to　be　forgotten　again。　　〃On　June　the　7th　General　So…and…so
  proceeded　with　his　whole　army〃　where？　　What　does　it　matter？　　One　little
  chapter　of　Carlyle；　illuminated　by　a　teacher　of　understanding；　were　worth
  a　million　such　text…books。　　Alas；　for　the　hatred　of　Virgil！　　〃Paret〃　（a
  shiver）；　〃begin　at　the　one　hundred　and　thirtieth　line　and　translate！〃　　I
  can　hear　myself　droning　out　in　detestable　English　a　meaningless　portion
  of　that　endless　journey　of　the　pious　AEneas；　can　see　Gene　Hollister；　with
  heart…rending　glances　of　despair；　stumbling　through　Cornelius　Nepos　in　an
  unventilated　room　with　chalk…rubbed　blackboards　and　heavy　odours　of　ink
  and　stale　lunch。　　And　I　graduated　from　Densmore　Academy；　the　best　school
  in　our　city；　in　the　80's；　without　having　been　taught　even　the　rudiments
  of　citizenship。
  Knowledge　was　presented　to　us　as　a　corpse；　which　bit　by　bit　we　painfully
  dissected。　　We　never　glimpsed　the　living；　growing　thing；　never
  experienced　the　Spirit；　the　same　spirit　that　was　able　magically　to　waft
  me　from　a　wintry　Lyme　Street　to　the　South　Seas；　the　energizing；
  electrifying　Spirit　of　true　achievement；　of　life；　of　God　himself。　　Little
  by　little　its　flames　were　smothered　until　in　manhood　there　seemed　no
  spark　of　it　left　alive。　　Many　years　were　to　pass　ere　it　was　to　revive
  again；　as　by　a　miracle。　　I　travelled。　　Awakening　at　dawn；　I　saw；　framed
  in　a　port…hole；　rose…red　Seriphos　set　in　a　living　blue　that　paled　the
  sapphire；　the　seas　Ulysses　had　sailed；　and　the　company　of　the　Argonauts。
  My　soul　was　steeped　in　unimagined　colour；　and　in　the　memory　of　one
  rapturous　instant　is　gathered　what　I　was　soon　to　see　of　Greece；　is
  focussed　the　meaning　of　history；　poetry　and　art。　　I　was　to　stand　one
  evening　in　spring　on　the　mound　where　heroes　sleep　and　gaze　upon　the　plain
  of　Marathon　between　darkening　mountains　and　the　blue　thread　of　the　strait
  peaceful　now；　flushed　with　pink　and　white　blossoms　of　fruit　and　almond
  trees；　to　sit　on　the　cliff…throne　whence　a　Persian　King　had　looked　down
  upon　a　Salamis　fought　and　lost。。。。　　In　that　port…hole　glimpse　a
  Themistocles　was　revealed；　a　Socrates；　a　Homer　and　a　Phidias；　an
  AEschylus；　and　a　Pericles；　yes；　and　a　John　brooding　Revelations　on　his
  sea…girt　rock　as　twilight　falls　over　the　waters。。。。
  I　saw　the　Roman　Empire；　that　Scarlet　Woman　whose　sands　were　dyed　crimson
  with　blood　to　appease　her　harlotry；　whose　ships　were　laden　with　treasures
  from　the　immutable　East；　grain　from　the　valley　of　the　Nile；　spices　from
  Arabia；　precious　purple　stuffs　from　Tyre；　tribute　and　spoil；　slaves　and
  jewels　from　conquered　nations　she　absorbed；　and　yet　whose　very　emperors
  were　the　unconscious　instruments　of　a　Progress　they　wot　not　of；　preserved
  to　the　West　by　Marathon　and　Salamis。　　With　Caesar's　legions　its　message
  went　forth　across　Hispania　to　the　cliffs　of　the　wild　western　ocean；
  through　Hercynian　forests　to　tribes　that　dwelt　where　great　rivers　roll　up
  their　bars　by　misty；　northern　seas；　and　even　to　Celtic　fastnesses　beyond
  the　Wall。。。。
  IV。
  In　and　out　of　my　early　memories　like　a　dancing　ray　of　sunlight　flits　the
  spirit　of　Nancy。　　I　was　always　fond　of　her；　but　in　extreme　youth　I
  accepted　her　incense　with　masculine　complacency　and　took　her　allegiance
  for　granted；　never　seeking　to　fathom　the　nature　of　the　spell　I　exercised
  over　her。　　Naturally　other　children　teased　me　about　her；　but　what　was
  worse；　with　that　charming　lack　of　self…consciousness　and　consideration
  for　what　in　after　life　are　called　the　finer　feelings；　they　teased　her
  about　me　before　me；　my　presence　deterring　them　not　at　all。　　I　can　see
  them　hopping　around　her　in　the　Peters　yard　crying　out：
  〃Nancy's　in　love　with　Hugh！　　Nancy's　in　love　with　Hugh！〃
  A　sufficiently　thrilling　pastime；　this；　for　Nancy　could　take　care　of
  herself。　　I　was　a　bungler　beside　her　when　it　came　to　retaliation；　and　not
  the　least　of　her　attractions　for　me　was　her　capacity　for　anger：　fury
  would　be　a　better　term。　　She　would　fly　at　themeven　as　she　flew　at　the
  head…hunters　when　the　Petrel　was　menaced；　and　she　could　run　like　a　deer。
  Woe　to　the　unfortunate　victim　she　overtook！　　Masculine　strength；
  exercised　apologetically；　availed　but　little；　and　I　have　seen　Russell
  Peters　and　Gene　Hollister　retire　from　such　encounters　humiliated　and
  weeping。　　She　never　caught　Ralph；　his　methods　of　torture　were　more
  intelligent　and　subtle　than　Gene's　and　Russell's；　but　she　was　his　equal
  when　it　came　to　a　question　of　tongues。
  〃I　know　what's　the　matter　with　you；　Ralph　Hambleton；〃　she　would　say。
  〃You're　jealous。〃　　An　accusation　that　invariably　put　him　on　the
  defensive。　　〃You　think　all　the　girls　are　in　love　with　you；　don't　you？〃
  These　scenes　I　found　somewhat　embarrassing。　　Not　so　Nancy。　　After
  discomfiting　her　tormenters；　or　wounding　and　scattering　them；　she　would
  return　to　my　side。。。。　　In　spite　of　her　frankly　expressed　preference　for
  me　she　had　an　elusiveness　that　made　a　continual　appeal　to　my　imagination。
  She　was　never　obvious　or　commonplace；　and　long　before　I　began　to
  experience　the　discomforts　and　sufferings　of　youthful　love　I　was
  fascinated　by　a　nature　eloquent　with　contradictions　and　inconsistencies。
  She　was　a　tomboy；　yet　her　own　sex　was　enhanced　rather　than　overwhelmed　by
  contact　with　the　other：　and　no　matter　how　many　trees　she　climbed　she
  never　seemed　to　lose　her　daintiness。　　It　was　innate。
  She　could；　at　times；　be　surprisingly　demure。　　These　impressions　of　her
  daintiness　and　demureness　are　particularly　vivid　in　a　picture　my　memory
  has　retained　of　our　walking　together；　unattended；　to　Susan　Blackwood's
  birthday　party。　　She　must　have　been　about　twelve　years　old。　　It　was　the
  first　time　I　had　escorted　her　or　any　other　girl　to　a　party；　Mrs。　Willett
  had　smiled　over　the　proceeding；　but　Nancy　and　I　took　it　most　seriously；
  as　symbolic　of　things　to　come。　　I　can　see　Powell　Street；　where　Nancy
  lived；　at　four　o'clock　on　a　mild　and　cloudy　December　afternoon；　the
  decorous；　retiring　houses；　Nancy　on　one　side　of　the　pavement　by　the　iron
  fences　and　I　on　the　other　by　the　tree　boxes。　　I　can't　remember　her　dress；
  only　the　exquisite　sense　of　her　slimness　and　daintiness　comes　back　to　me；
  of　her　dark　hair　in　a　long　braid　tied　with　a　red　ribbon；　of　her　slender
  legs　clad　in　black　stockings　of　shining　silk。　　We　felt　the　occasion　to　be
  somehow　too　significant；　too　eloquent　for　words。。。。
  In　silence　we　climbed　the　flight　of　stone　steps　that　led　up　to　the
  Blackwood　mansion；　when　suddenly　the　door　was　opened；　letting　out　sounds
  of　music　and　revelry。　　Mr。　Blackwood's　coloured　butler；　Ned；　beamed　at　us
  hospitably；　inviting　us　to　enter　the　brightness　within。　　The　shades　were
  drawn；　the　carpets　were　covered　with　festal　canvas；　the　folding　doors
  between　the　square　rooms　were　flung　back；　the　prisms　of　the　big
  chandeliers　flung　their　light　over　animated　groups　of　matrons　and
  children。　　Mrs。　Watling；　the　mother　of　the　Watling　twinstoo　young　to　be
  present　was　directing　with　vivacity　the　game　of　〃King　William　was　King
  James's　son；〃　and　Mrs。　McAlery　was　playing　the　piano。
  Now　choose　you　East；　now　choose　you　West；
  Now　choose　the　one　you　love　the　best！〃
  Tom　Peters；　in　a　velvet　suit　and　consequently　very　miserable；　refused　to
  embrace　Ethel　Hollister；　while　the　scornful　Julia　lurked　in　a　corner：
  nothing　would　induce　her　to　enter　such　a　foolish　game。　　I　experienced　a
  novel　discomfiture　when　Ralph　kissed　Nancy。。。。　　Afterwards　came　the
  feast；　from　which　Ham　Durrett；　in　a　pink　paper　cap　with　streamers；　was　at
  length　forcibly　removed　by　his　mother。　　Thus　early　did　he　betray　his　love
  for　the　flesh　pots。。。。
  It　was　not　until　I　was　sixteen　that　a　player　came　and　touched　the　keys　of
  my　soul；　and　it　awoke；　bewildered；　at　these　first　tender　notes。　　The
  music　quickened；　tripping　in　ecstasy；　to　change　by　subtle　phrases　into
  themes　of　exquisite　suffering　hitherto　unexperienced。　　I　knew　that　I
  loved　Nancy。
  With　the　advent　of　longer　dresses　that　reached　to　her　shoe　tops　a　change
  had　come　over　her。　　The　tomboy；　the　willing　camp…follower　who　loved　me
  and　was　unashamed；　were　gone　forever；　and　a　mysterious；　transfigured
  being；　neither　girl　nor　woman；　had　magically　been　evolved。　　Could　it　be
  possible　that　she　loved　me　still？　　My　complacency　had　vanished；　suddenly
  I　had　become　the　aggressor；　if　only　I　had　known　how　to　〃aggress〃；　but　in
  her　presence　I　was　seized　by　an　accursed　shyness　that　paralyzed　my
  tongue；　and　the　things　I　had　planned　to　say　were　left　unuttered。　　It　was
  somethingthough　I　did　not　realize　itto　be　able　to　feel　like　that。
  The　time　came　when　I　could　no　longer　keep　this　thing　to　myself。　　The　need
  of　an　outlet；　of　a　confidant；　became　imperative；　and　I　sought　out　Tom
  Peters。　　It　was　in　February；　I　remember　because　I　had　venturedwith
  incredible　daringto　send　Nancy　an　elabor