A STRANGER WITHIN OUR GATES
Cossette, Winifred
A Stranger Within Our Gates By WINIFRED COSSETTE THE Spirit of Beauty whispered in my attuned ear, "Tarry yet awhile; the errand will not lose by waiting!" I halted in a brisk walk on the...
...it had been of absorbing interest and she passed a good examination...
...this is what they are singing, the Pater said...
...My husband," she said smiling shyly, "is Miltiades...
...Yes," she said softly with rapt face and grateful pride—we had partaken of the international communion of souls...
...Another big—man—name in your family...
...What a pretty little girl," I thought...
...The hour had arrived for quizzing the twelve-year-old on the Illiad which she had just finished reading...
...A big—man—name"—then the baby was a boy...
...Being in a very remote plane of thought I saw, in a detached way, the young mother at the far end of my seat...
...The little immigrant mother may report , to Miltiades the friendly adventure by the river that day, but much more did I gain in richest measure of what the immigrant has to give...
...Since that time how much that was mortal has put on Immortality...
...Her smile gleamed as she said, "Ah, they were friends, but this is our Nicholas...
...Under the spell of the blue and gold, the rapturous motion of wind and wave the deep inbrcath gave a suffusion of spiritual joy...
...But she thought the list of the fleet was somewhat monotonous (some loss of action, as it seemed), recalling the rather tiresome list of names in Chronicles—a recent task...
...Pater kindly assured her that she would find the list of more interest in later years...
...My errand did not lose by waiting...
...Poised as I was like Mercury, only one toe on earth, my luminous self took complete flight again with Memory * * * It was early dusk in late March...
...Her hair was very dark,-over a low, broad brow, dark eyes were heavy-lashed...
...The Greek rhythm was diverting to the child, but she urged a translation: Breke-kesh, koash, koash— We've a right day and night— Silence is against our natures...
...I tried to assume an intelligent expression, but she evidently sensed the situation...
...Her pleased answer conveyed no meaning to me...
...on her cheek, which was losing its youthful contour, was the delicate pallor ot impoverishment—the little brood was literally living off her...
...Manifest duty to assist onward and upward the strangers within our gates moved me to make an effort to penetrate the barrier of language, and though not expecting much profit from the occasion, I asked: "What is the baby's name...
...I halted in a brisk walk on the esplanade and took the nearest seat...
...Then we talked brokenly of her new life, the children, the needlework, which she hoped to sell to help the family...
...That was the sole word in the sentence that I understood...
...A gentle mother-voice near admonished "Nickie...
...Her swift fingers were constructing a needle-lace around an eighteen-inch square of heavy, natural colored ljnen...
...The perennial spring of pure literature leaped to the daylight again—this ambrosial draught so unexpected, this resuscitation of the Spirit Youth cooled the aridity of the present so far removed...
...her face took on an impassive look as though the attempt at mental contact had been borne in upon her many times before—• she stitched swiftly for a few seconds— "A big—man—name," she essayed again, "Ahkay Lees...
...An exhiliarating west wind had swept the sky into a cloudless blue and drove the blue waters of the Charles into crisp wavelets that crumpled up against the solid masonry of the embankment, the golden afternoon sun was luxurious...
...Back from my swim in the Ether —in less than forty seconds—I said: "Achilles (he, too, was a baby—more than once—though it never occurred to me before) ? And this little one is Patroclus...
...Still detached in spirit, I mentally tossed her words over and over...
...Where secure from toil and trouble, With a tuneful hubble-bubble, Our symphonous accents flow . , . Breke-kesh, koash, koash...
...the frogs were thrilling madly...
...Then the baby—of the mother's type—came and nestled close with its hands in her lap, and stole tentative glances at me from dark, heavy-lashed eyes...
...A big— man—name"—Ah, Achilles...
...It was addressed to a fine little chap about seven years old, whose playmates (evidently all of one family) were a baby about two and a boy about five...
...Meagre, eager, leaping, lunging, From the sedgy wharfage plunging To the tranquil depths below, There we muster all a-row...
...As we chatted Achilles had wandered far afield on the young greensward, so I said goodbye as she laughingly caNed and speeded after him, the alien air vibrant with accents that fell from mother lips on baby ears when Greece was young...
...The highlights ,were discussed con amore, and as the first few stars began to shine all was enchantment...
...In the vernal heat reviving, Our aquatic crew repair From their periodic sleep, In the dark and chilly deep, To the cheerful upper air, Then we frolic here and there All amidst the meadows fair, Shady plants of asphodel Are the lodgings where we dwell, Chanting in the leafy bowers All the livelong summer hours, Till the sudden gusty showers Send us headlong, helter-skelter, To the pool to seek for shelter...
...Your race has a wonderful history—a precious gift to the world...
...Handcraft is a pet hobby, and though still held by the blissful thrall of nature worship, my material mind was tenuously engaged in s;>eculating as to the "nationality" of the work she was doing, for it was quite unfamiliar...
Vol. 19 • October 1927 • No. 10
