THE OPEN DOOR. 15 



their lightest word is saturated with the mystery 

 and romance of the unknown. Their easy, 

 matter-of-fact, everyday knowledge is richly 

 wonderful. It would seem natural for these 

 young-young men to question these old-young 

 men of that which they desire so ardently to 

 know ; but that isn't done, you know. So they 

 sit tight, and pretend they are not listening, and 

 feast their ears on the wonderful syllables 

 Ankobar, Kabul, Peshawur, Annam, Nyassaland, 

 Kerman, Serengetti, Tanganika, and many others. 

 On these beautiful syllables must their imagina- 

 tions feed, for that which is told is as nothing at 

 all. Adventure there is none, romance there is 

 none, mention of high emprise there is none. 

 Adventure, romance, high emprise have to these 

 men somehow lost their importance. Perhaps 

 such things have been to them too common as 

 well mention the morning egg. Perhaps they 

 have found that there is no genuine adventure, no 

 real romance except over the edge of the world 

 where the rainbow stoops. 



The bus rattles in and rattles out again. It 

 takes the fresh-faced young men down past the 

 inner harbour to where lie the tall ships waiting. 

 They and their cargo of exuberance, of hope, of en- 

 ergy, of thirst for the bubble adventure, the rain- 



