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aT Bera Seana wah

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| TM REFLECTIONS.

: i} HE clear, last light of day fell strongly on the repeated roof-line of —
¢ ). y the numberless sheds, and on the tall dark smoking chimneys; on all —
cd ahs’ | the glaring brilliant signs that front the bridge, and on the bridge itself —
stretching away from me with its ever-opposing parallels of traffic—a
pine. // great double line of cars and trams sped past me, homeward bound, and
| as | crossed | watched the crowds they bore.

‘|| an The merciless rays of the setting sun revealed the faces of worried clerks

j and struggling working girls, of tired labourers and impassive ‘powers
wail) | behind the throne"—all that great vital majority who make the wheels
( py of progress move—with here and there the unhappy, careless faces of
those well fed, well groomed men and women, those idle rich returning
i 3 from some futile attempt to while away a few more hours of their aim-
Ate less lives. And always the high hopes of youth contrasted strongly the
Bull tired tolerance of age.

Occasionally out of the crowds a familiar face flashed recognition and
was lost again as the traffic rushed noisily on—confusing, vibrant.

| Then a slight lull, and | saw the water far below, emerald and calm, float-
| ing small ducks, black and white.

| The cars surged on once more and, unexpectedly, the dear remembered
A 4 r face | had sought so long loomed up to daze me—then, like the rest, was
i ee gone. Stunned, | walked on, turned down below the bridge and out and
( west to the vivid sky. The surge and roar of the busy world sank to a low
murmur. And on | went and on to a clear bluff and the sea and stillness
—silence and the fading sunset. On the horizon a heavy bank of grey
cloud—on the water the grey pattern of the tide. Beauty drew me with

its inexorable force—and the live sea was calling—calling. Then, sud-
denly, the wind blew cold. —I.W.

ne rn

! [38]