, broke loose. I rose to my
super-self. And now if a horrible thing had stood grey at my elbow,
unmoved, I would have looked it unflinchingly in the sightless
visage....

My pencil raced over paper ... raced and raced.

"Here it comes ... just like your good rain, so kind to earth.... Oh,
beautiful God, I thank Thee for making me a poet," I prayed, tears
streaming down my face.

* * * * *

The second act of _Judas_ stood complete, as if it had written itself.

I rose. It seemed hardly an hour had passed.

It took me a few minutes to work the numbness out of my legs. How they
ached! I stepped out of the tent-door like a drunken man ... fell on my
face in some bushes and bled from several scratches. The blare of what
was full daylight hurt my eyes. I had been writing on, entranced, by
unneeded lamp, when unheeded day burned about me.

Stepping inside again, I saw by my Ingersoll that it was twelve o'clock.
I fell into a deep sleep, still dressed ... I was so exhausted. Usually
I slept absolutely naked.

* * * * *

These were the things that happened while Penton was in jail because he
played tennis on Sunday.

* * * * *

Now I was part and parcel of the household, no longer a stranger-friend
on a visit. Though Penton's jail-experience did not thrill me, the
continued thronging of reporters did, as did Baxter's raging desire to
do good for the poor ordinary prisoners in jail. He had got at several
of them who had received a raw deal in the courts, and was moving heaven
and earth to bring redress to them. He gave interviews, dictated
articles ... the State officials were furious. "What's the matter with
the fellow? What's he bother about the other fellows for, he ought to be
glad he's not in their shoes!"...

In agitations for the public good, in humanitarian projects, Baxter was
indeed a great man ... I loomed like a pigmy beside him.

* * * * *

Darrie and I in dialogue:

She met me on the path, as I was proceeding toward the big house. She
carried Carpenter's _Love's Coming of Age_ in her hand. She was dressed
daintily. Her brown eyes smiled at me, and a rich dimple broke in her
cheek.

But Darrie was taller than Hildreth, and I like small women best;
perhaps because I am myself so big.

"Don't go up to the house, Johnnie."

"I want a book from the library."

"Hildreth and