Then, at last, I yielded to the bidding of a kinder spirit. I
threw off the nightmare and mingled again with my kind. I
went where men and women were merry with feast and
dance, with wine and music and song. I looked for the joy
of the human face and did not look in vain. I recovered in a
moment my old birthright of hope and happiness. My heart,
so long drooping, rose at the compelling summons of life
about me : the old desire to live and love sprung up anew in
me to hail the red flag in a woman's cheek and the bright
challenge of her eyes. I filled my glass and at the bidding
of beauty and joy devoted my ancient sick fears to perdition.
l^o



PALMS OF PAPYRUS




I was merry with the rest, aye, merry with the maddest; —
and since that hour I live ... I live ... I live !

(5* t3* *3"

THE ONLY WAY.
AM asked if, in my opinion, suicide is ever justi-
fiable.
The question is one for the individual con-
science. Men and women are answering it with
a dreadful yea, yea, every day, casting away
life as they might reject a worn-out garment.
By social consent, founded on religious feeling, suicide is
a crime against God. It is also held to be a crime against so-
ciety. Persons attempting suicide and failing in the act are
subject to the rigor of the law. No legal punishment is (of
course) provided for those who succeed, but they do not
escape in the next world — the churches take care of that:
all theologians agree that the suicide is eternally reprobate
and damned.
