Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 76: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

710 Georgie joined him at the forward win- dow. ‘‘ Where are we? Are we still over Virginia?” ‘“ Yes, at least, I think we haven’t crossed into North Carolina yet. That was Chesa- peake Bay a while ago. Look! That city there! It’s melting—going down fast! What changes time does make! How little of it we can see or realize in a lifetime!”’ The cabin interior was unlighted and dark, save for that phosphorescence with which everything glowed. In their absorp- tion in the scene below, the travelers had forgotten their own curious aspect, until Georgie suddenly remarked: “Look at us! Ghosts flying through space! Doesn’t it make you feel queer, Mr. Rogers?’’ The dim cabin interior, with its vague, ~-ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. luminous human figures did indeed seem un- real. But the unreality was matched now by the scene beneath; their forward flight through space, combined with a _ time- progress now tremendously accelerated, made everything below a shifting, sliding kaleidoscope of changing effects that the eye could see, but the mind grasp only im- perfectly. Details were transient things blurred one into the other. The broad fundamentals, however, were obvious. The gray, concave land, ridged with mountains, the indented coast liné, the gray, changeless sea—all were distin- guishable. And overhead spread the sky, blurred and gray also—luminous with the mingled light of sun and moon, and a myriad starry worlds, and blended darker by nights of rain and snow and storm. TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK Lv) Le) THREE SCENES HE wild, bright hair of the morning streamed, From under the dusky hood of night; On the gleaming sand a young man stood, By the glittering sea waves flashing bright. The tide came steadily creeping in— Came steadily tramping over the sand; And over the glimmering, purple sea. A ship sailed from the land. It was golden noon, and an older man, By the glistening sea waves stood alone, At the turn of the tide; twas ebbing out, With a restless, angry, shuddering moan. He looked away o’er the wrinkled waves, For a beautiful ship, with wings of white}! The sea went up, the sky came down, And never a ship in sight. The new moon launched her pearly boat, From the edge of the twilight’s silver shore, And the dusky banners of night blew out O’er the glow of the sunset’s crimson door. An old man lay, with streaming hair, When the tide forever had left the strand; The wreck of a ship came drifting in, And lay on the shining sand. Carrie F. Wheeler. = Cconmicoooks. com