Page:Arthur Stringer-The Loom of Destiny.djvu/196

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The Loom of Destiny

made up stories for each illustration, and it was not until the pages were worn to shreds and tatters that he found it possible to forego this pleasure.

Then he grew more adventurous in spirit and stole beyond the borders of the Place into unknown country, and even ventured so far away as Washington Square. It was here that life really opened up for him, for it was while following after an Italian organ-grinder that he came upon the Avenue with its smooth pavement, its hurrying carriages, and its long vista of white-globed lamp-posts leading afar off into the mysteriously alluring Unknown.

From the first, that Unknown Country enchanted the child. Just why it was he did not know, and never could tell, but day by day he stole away from the gloom and smells of Perkins Place and trudged off to the Avenue, where he could go wandering inquisitively up and down, watching the horses, the hurdygurdies, the big houses, and the children who were so different from his neighbours on Perkins Place. In time,

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