eted by those who see them; there are outcasts who are shunned. There
are those who are happy and those who are weighed down with grief. Some
hasten and some hesitate. Some seem to hold fast to their lives as a
lover might hold fast to his fiancee; others will die that same day. One
has a child by the hand, another a woman by the arm. Some drag crimes in
their hearts, others walk upright, free, happy to face the world. One is
being summoned to court as a witness, the other is on his way to the
doctor. One is fleeing from domestic discord, another is rejoicing over
some great good fortune. There is the man who has lost his purse and the
man who is reading a serious letter. One is on his way to church to
pray, another to the cafe to drown his sorrows. One is radiant with joy
over the business outlook, another is crushed with poverty. A beautiful
girl has on her best dress; a cripple lies in the gateway. There is a
boy who sings a song, and a matron whose eyes are red with weeping. The
baker carries his bread by, the cobbler his boots. Soldiers are going to
the barracks, workmen are returning from the factory.

Daniel feels that none of them are strangers to him. He sees himself in
each of them. He is nearer to them while standing on his elevated
position behind the iron railing than he was when he walked by them on
the street. The jet of water that spurts from him is like fate: it flows
and collects in the basin. Eternal wisdom, he feels, is streaming up to
him from the fountain below; each hour becomes a century. However men
may be constituted, he is seized with a supernatural feeling when he
looks into their eyes. In all of their eyes there is the same fire, the
same anxiety and the same prayer; the same loneliness, the same life,
the same death. In all of them he sees the soul of God.

He himself no longer feels his loneliness; he feels that he has been
distributed among men. His hate has gone, dispelled like so much smoke.
The tones he hears now come rushing up from the great fountain; and this
fountain is fed from the blood of all those he sees on the market place.
Water is something different now: "It washes clean man's very soul, and
makes it like an angel, whole."

Noon came, and then evening: a day of creation. And when evening came, a
mist settled over the city, and Daniel came down from his high place at
the fountain, set the geese carefully to one side, and went home. He
arrived at the vestibule; he stood in