CHAPTER VIII: HARLEY RETURNS TO THE FRAY
"I will be master of what is mine own:
She is my goods, my chattels."
- "Taming of the Shrew."
At the end of ten days Harley returned from Barnegat, brown as a
berry and ready for war, if war it was still to be. The outing had
done him a world of good, and the fish stories he told as we sat at
dinner showed that, realist though he might be, he had yet not failed
to cultivate his imagination in certain directions. I may observe in
passing, and in this connection, that if I had a son whom it was my
ambition to see making his mark in the world as a writer of romance,
as distinguished from the real, I should, as the first step in his
development, take care that he became a fisherman. The telling of
tales of the fish he caught when no one else was near to see would
give him, as it has given many another, a good schooling in the
realms of the imagination.
I was glad to note that Harley's wonted cheerfulness had returned,
and that he had become more like himself than he had been at any time
since his first failure with Miss Andrews.
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