Love Instigated | Page 2

Main St., Louisville, Ky.
Special��Dedication
to
the��Members��of��the��Sherley��Club
of
Little��:��Britain:

--Despair��ye��not��at��all--

E'en��by��so��Small��a��Thing��as��this��Poor��Booklet
May��Your
Loves��be��Instigated!
Dedicated
To��Each��Single��Son��of��St.��Pendennis
Who��Worships��not��at��the��Shrine��of
The��Maiden��Priestess��of��To-day
--Let��Him��Look��to't,--
Or��Likewise��He��May��Somewhere��Find
Love��Perpetrated.
Love Instigated.
It was a daisy bit of Ivory.
It was a curious piece of Workmanship.
It was carved and carved again with Conventional Lines, which formed a Female Head of East-Indian Unexceptionableness.
It seemed to Smile and to Beckon, and then to Scowl repellantly--a Living Mockery!
It was Hateful--Oh, so Hateful!--the sight Of so conventional a Thing.
And yet there had been such a Longing to touch It and to Hold It in the Hand!
But See the Sequel.
It was not an Idol of India.
It was the Carved Ivory Handle of a Tanned Gingham Umbrella, of very Plebeian American Manufacture.
It stood in a Hand-painted China Receptacle in The long quiet Hall, in the House of a Friend. It was there when I Dined with him the Night After Christmas.
It Gleamed at me with a Sinister Gleam of its Dexter Eye!
And it seemed to Smile and to Beckon at me out of the Soft, Voluptuous Environment of The "Inner��Sisterhood," of which it was a Fellow.
And when we were seated at the Glittering Table, beautiful with Crystal and Silver--
And Lemonade and Cake--
An Esthetic Banquet--
It Chanced, by Merest Accident, that I was Given a seat opposite The Portiered Archway which led into
The Long Quiet Hall,
With its Wine-Colored Wealth of Turkish-Bath Toweling thrown back.
And as we Sat Beneath the Iridescent Glow Of the Keely-Motor
Electric Lamp, which
Glistened and Shimmered Its Stained-Glass Iridescence on all about it, and gave its hue to The Invigorating Beverage, we heeded not the Elemental war waging upon the Queen Anne Exterior of the Hospitable Mansion of my Friend.
And when we were left to our Coffee and our Pipes, we talked of Daggers, and Epitaphs, and Tombs!
And as he told me in a Mysterious Whisper the Story of the Malay Dagger, "Guiltless of all Guile," the Vitreous Eye of that Quaintly