of this wedding there
were born the hours.

[Illustration]

[Illustration: The Stone that Had no Thought]

THE STONE THAT HAD NO THOUGHT

"Once," said the Singing Mouse, "while many men hurried into the
city, as, each day, they do, they saw many other men standing
about a place where a large building was growing. There were
those who raised stones on long arms of steel, and swung them
about, high up into the wall. Others remained upon the earth to
place these stones upon the long arms of steel. Now a stone had
fallen, and beneath it lay what had been a man; and around this
many stood.

"The long arm reached out after stones, and so this stone again
was taken and raised into the air. That which had been a man lay
broken, never again to rise and smile and walk. Near to it stood
a woman, not weeping, being still too sad for weeping. Above her
arose the stone once more, heavy and without thought. It rose
above the woman and above this that had been a man, and as it
swung high and slow above her the woman looked up at it, as
though to ask of it mercy. But the stone passed slowly on, heavy
and without thought. It is in the wall to-day, heavy and without
thought. Some say that is a temple, others that there is a God
in it. But no God replies. And the stone is in the wall, heavy,
without thought."

[Illustration]

[Illustration: The Tear and the Smile]

[Illustration]

THE TEAR AND THE SMILE

The Singing Mouse came and sat near by. Undoubtedly the room was
dingy to the last degree. The dust lay thick upon the corner of
the table. It crusted the window ledge and hung upon the sallow
wall. What was the use, things being as they were, to disturb
the dust? Let it lie in all its bitterness. And let the charred
ends of the fagots roll out upon the floor. And let the fire die
down to ashes. Dust to dust. Ashes to ashes. It was very fit.

But the Singing Mouse came and sat near by. I could hear it
patter among the dead leaves of the flowers that lay upon the
table. I turned my head and saw it sitting close by my fallen
hand. Its tiny paws were waving. I could see its breast, for
which a rose leaf would have been a giant buckler, pulsing and
beating above its throbbing heart. Its eyes were shining....
A rhythm came into the swing of the pink-tinted paws. And then,
so high and thin and sweet that at first I looked above to trace
the sound, there came the singing of the Singing Mouse....
Dreams fell u