File:Harper's New Monthly Magazine Volume 145 June to November 1922 (1922) (14578958800).jpg

Identifier: harpersnew145various (find matches)
Title: Harper's New Monthly Magazine Volume 145 June to November 1922
Year: 1922 (1920s)
Authors: various
Subjects:
Publisher: New York: Harper & Brothers Publishers
Contributing Library: Brigham Young University-Idaho, David O. McKay Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Brigham Young University-Idaho

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ve in his mind, to ask it some question,to tease it and be unsatisfied aboutsomething. What sort of a cloud had itbeen? It was no good asking anybody,only to be told cirrus or somethinglike that; that was not what John (andthe cloud) wanted to know. It wassomething different, something inti-mate between them. It was as if thecloud kept saying to John: You knowwhat I was. Nobody else does. Tellme. And John wanted and struggledto tell. White, he tried. Shining—lighted, he tried. But they were nogood. Soft and glowing and—oh,just lovely! But the cloud wasnt sat-isfied with the mere gush of that, either.Wistfully it seemed to go on floatingover his head—waiting, waiting. Johnmade a tremendous effort. Glisten-ing! he shouted (in his heart), and felta throb of triumph. All that day hekept repeating the word to himself withextraordinary satisfaction; it seemed tohim perfect. But the next morning in church (forit was Sunday) a funny thing happened.He wasnt listening, of course; he never
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246 HARPERS MONTHLY MAGAZINE listened, because it was so much nicerto sit and think about things—the glis-tening cloud, for instance, and his gingercat, Tubby, and what there would befor dinner; but suddenly a word fromthe pulpit tore a great hole in thesethoughts. Mr. Mayne, the vicar, hadjust read out his text, and now, accord-ing to his custom,he was doing it asecond time; thistime John listenedintently. And as heprayed, the fash-ion of his counte-nance was altered,and his raimentwas white andglistering. Glistering!—that was the rend-ing word. In-stantly it oustedglistening fromJohns mind.Glistering—g 1 i s-tering . . . yes,that was what thecloud had beenyesterday. Howexquisite it was!—how right. Howcould he ever havemistaken glis-tening for it? And yet, one letter—and all that difference? He lost himselfin childish comparisons and speculations. Rut he had not done with the cloud,even yet. He was satisfied; the cloud(he felt sure) was satisfied; but therewas still Nora, h

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