An intolerable discussion followed. A huge wave of ancient yet ever-modern philistinism raised itself among the majority of those who remained, and surged across the hall to drown Mr. Cary and Mrs. Henderson. Major Funkhouser found his feet again, and assumed the big-brother-protector attitude, to repeated grand-stand advantages. As long as they had seen the pictures, what matter if the public didn’t? Evolution lost the day. Stagnation was an immediate success. Your reporter left, grinning.
Free, dost thou call thyself? Thy ruling thought would I hear of, and not that thou hast escaped from a yoke.—Nietzsche.
Dawn in the Hills
Florence Kiper Frank
Out of the vast,
Flooding and flowering the cool, skyey vast,
Day, day at last!
Squandering, spilling, pouring white-flecked fire,
Higher and higher
The light of the sun mounts into the dim of the sky.