s the
divine fire refused to kindle--though he blew and blew. But at other
times, without effort on his part, the spark was struck, the flames
flashed forth and ran through his thoughts like wild-fire. When he was
helping Virginia to water the flowers in the garden; when he walked the
streets with dreaming eyes raised skyward, studying the clouds; when he
sat with Virginia and the Mother under the evening lamp or with feet on
the fender gazed into the heart of the red embers, or when he lay in his
bed in the quiet and dark--wherever he was, whatever he did, the phrases
and the rhythm of the new poem were filtering through his
sub-consciousness, being polished and made perfect.

Indeed the poem in the making cast a spell upon him and he passed his
days and his nights as though in a trance. Virginia and Mother Clemm
knew that he was in the throes of creation, and they respected his
brown-study mood--stepping softly and talking little; but often by a
silent pressure of his hand or a light kiss upon his brow, saying that
they understood. They were happy, for they knew the state of mind that
enveloped him to be one of profound happiness to him--though the
brooding look that was often in his grey eyes told them that the visions
he was seeing had to do with sorrow. They waited patiently, feeling
certain that in due course would be laid before them a work in prose or
verse, presenting in jewel-like word and phrase, scenes in some strange,
fascinating country which it would charm them to explore.

At last it was done! He told them while they sat at the evening meal.

"I have something to read to you two critics after supper," he said. "A
poem upon which I have been working. I don't know whether it is of any
account or not."

The two gentle critics were all interest. Virginia was breathless with
enthusiasm and could hardly wait to finish her supper.

"I knew you were doing something great," she exclaimed. "I _know_ it is
great! Nothing you have ever done has wrapped you up so completely.
You've been in a beautiful trance for weeks and Muddie and I have been
almost afraid to breathe for fear of waking you up too soon."

As soon as supper was over he brought out one of the familiar narrow
rolls of manuscript and smilingly drew it out for them to see its
length--giving Virginia one end to hold while he held the other.

She read aloud, in pondering tone, the two words that appeared at the
top: "The Raven."--

Then, as she le