THE SEARCH AND FINDING 



But this story of unsuccessful experiences 

 grows wearisome to me, and, I doubt not, to 

 the reader. One after another the hopes I had 

 built upon my hatful of responses, failed me, 

 June was bursting- every day into fuller and 

 more tempting leafiness. The stifling corri- 

 dors of city hotels, the mouldy smell of coun- 

 try taverns, the dependence upon testy Jehus, 

 who plundered and piloted me through all 

 manner of out-of-the-way places, became 

 fatiguing beyond measure. 



And it was precisely at this stage of my 

 inquiry, that I happened accidentally to be 

 passing a day at the Tontine inn, of the charm- 

 ing city of N — h — . (I use initials only, in 

 way of respectful courtesy for the home of my 

 adoption.) The old drowsy quietude of the 

 place which I had known in other days, still 

 lingered upon the broad green, while the mimic 

 din of trade rattled down the tidy streets, or gave 

 tongue in the shrill whistle of an engine. The 

 college still seemed dreaming out its classic 

 beatitudes, and the staring rectangnlarity of its 

 enclosures and buildings and paths appeared 

 to me only a proper expression of its old geo- 

 metric and educational traditions. 



Most people know this town of which I 

 speak, only as a scudding whirl of white 



37 



