of
justice on his side. But of course she was Lady Tintagel, and all the
lovers of Florence Barclay will understand that that is something.

So, after reciting Tennyson's "Crossing the Bar," at her request
(credit is given in the front of the book for the use of this poem, and
only rightly too, for without it the story could never have been
written), he goes out into the ocean. But there--we mustn't give too
much of the plot away. All that one need know is that Luke or Sir Nigel,
as you wish (and what reader of Florence Barclay wouldn't prefer Sir
Nigel?), was so cultured that he said, "Nobody in the whole world knows
it, save you and I," and referred to "flotsam and jetson" as he was
swimming out into the path of the rising sun. "Jetsam" is such an ugly
word.

It is only fitting that on his tombstone Lady Tintagel should have had
inscribed an impressive and high-sounding misquotation from the Bible.

LXI

"MEASURE YOUR MIND"

"Measure Your Mind" by M.R. Traube and Frank Parker Stockbridge, is apt
to be a very discouraging book if you have any doubt at all about your
own mental capacity. From a hasty glance through the various tests I
figure it out that I would be classified in Group B, indicating "Low
Average Ability," reserved usually for those just learning to speak the
English language and preparing for a career of holding a spike while
another man hits it. If they ever adopt the "menti-meter tests" on this
journal I shall last just about forty-five minutes.

And the trouble is that each test starts off so easily. You begin to
think that you are so good that no one has ever appreciated you. There
is for instance, a series of twenty-four pictures (very badly drawn too,
Mr. Frank Parker Stockbridge. You think you are so smart, picking flaws
with people's intelligence. If I couldn't draw a better head than the
one on page 131 I would throw up the whole business). At any rate, in
each one of these pictures there is something wrong (wholly apart from
the drawing). You are supposed to pick out the incongruous feature, and
you have 180 seconds in which to tear the twenty-four pictures to
pieces.

* * * * *

The first one is easy. The rabbit has one human ear. In the second one
the woman's eye is in her hair. Pretty soft, you say to yourself. In the
third the bird has three legs. It looks like a cinch. Following in quick
succession come a man with his mouth in his forehead,