Then we saw it farther off and the pillars of fire stalked up
and down the face of heaven like one of Handel's great basses.
In front of my room at Montreal there was a verandah from which a
rope was stretched across a small yard to a chimney on a stable roof
over the way. Clothes were hung to dry on this rope. As I lay in
bed of a morning I could see the shadows and reflected lights from
these clothes moving on the ceiling as the clothes were blown about
by the wind. The movement of these shadows and reflected lights was
exactly that of the rays of an Aurora Borealis, minus colour. I can
conceive no resemblance more perfect. They stalked across the
ceiling with the same kind of movement absolutely.
A Tragic Expression
The three occasions when I have seen a really tragic expression upon
a face were as follows:-
(1) When Mrs. Inglis in my room at Montreal heard my sausages
frying, as she thought, too furiously in the kitchen, she left me
hurriedly with a glance, and the folds of her dress as she swept out
of the room were Niobean.
(2) Once at dinner I sat opposite a certain lady who had a tureen of
soup before her and also a plate of the same to which she had just
helped herself. There was meat in the soup and I suppose she got a
bit she did not like; instead of leaving it, she swiftly, stealthily,
picked it up from her plate when she thought no one was looking and,
with an expression which Mrs.
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