ation and the vanity of all serious work, at least as far as art
is concerned. They began to relate reminiscences of their student
years, and reviewed the hopes and ambitions of their youth. If they had
been realized, what wonders they would have accomplished!

"I gave the other side a chance. They never responded. I waited for ten
long years, and now, it's all up. Let us have another drink, waiter, the
last." They clinked glasses. "And now for a decent departure as in the
good old times, when Hegesias, the Cyrenaic, preached suicide in
Alexandria--"

They arose. It had grown dark. They sauntered forth into the night.
Morrison seemed to know where he was going. "I once spent very pleasant
days out here," he explained, "years, I hardly remember how many years
ago." After that they did not converse any more. They finally arrived at
a beautiful avenue of old elms that extended far into the country. Its
deep, dark vista was lit up only by the shimmer of a distant lake.

Morrison stopped, seized his friend's hand, shook it, and said in a firm
voice: "Good-bye."

"Good-bye."

And Morrison walked away. It was so dark that in a few moments his form
became invisible. Only his footsteps could still be heard. They grew
fainter and fainter. The tall, lean man stared after his friend into the
blackness of the night. His eyes grew dim.

A few rain drops fell on his face and hands. "I hope it won't rain," he
murmured, "it might make dying more difficult, but no--the sky is
clear." Then he slightly bent forward and listened eagerly. Everything
was calm, motionless, as in suspense. Nobody passed through the avenue.
Only in the adjoining side streets pedestrians flitted by like ghosts.

So this was the end! After having struggled bravely for years, after
living up to high ideals as well as one could, to go down a long, dark
avenue--a falling star flashed across the tree tops.

The tall, lean man pressed his hand to his heart, although he was not
certain of having heard a report, he felt, that his friend had arrived
at the goal of his life's journey. The game was up!

* * * * *

+Books to be had through Mother Earth+

+The Doukhobors:+ Their History in Russia; Their Migration to Canada. By
Joseph Elkins +$2.00+

+Moribund Society and Anarchism.+ By Jean Grave +25c.+

+Education and Heredity.+ By J. M. Guyau +$1.25+

+A Sketch of Morality+--Independent of Obligation and Sanction. By J. M.
Guy