The Making of a Soul

ary to the man he called "old Joliffe," and announc

of editing a London daily at an early age, he had wisely determined to learn the whole business of newspaper journalism from the beginning. At the ago of eighteen he was sub-editor on

he came into possession of the comfortable income left to him by his father many years before, he was able to turn his back definitely on any soul-destroying drudgery and devote his time and brains to better work. Beneath his journalistic ability there was a sound and delicate literary flair; and it had lo

as regarded original verse and the critical appreciation of modern poetry as a whole. Articles on art, music, the drama, were all

h the future in relation to the past. Each subject-music, literature, humanitarianism, mysticism, and a dozen others-would be treated in turn; and while in no wise belittling the magic inventiveness of an age which has gi

f his dreams, there was more of the spirit of the future than of

tical. There would be no room within its covers for writers with axes to grind. No acrimonious discussions, thinly-veiled in pedantry, should mar the harmony of the pages; no party cries should echo from the editorial office

letters, who had longed, in his early life, for the opportunity to do what Owen was doing; and was generous enough to feel that, t

than any emolument. Also he was sufficiently well-off to waive the matter if he chose until the review was on firm financial ground. Barry, as his personal secretary and general second-in-command,

princely sum of forty shillings a week; and by the beginning of February activity at headquarters,

r the possible inclusion of a little set of verses which had reached him from a hitherto-unknown contributor

put down the paper he held and looked

ed distastefully. "That stupid Jenkins wom

n repeated the

t I thought she would have more sense than to g

she h

ession of women out to smash windows or something of the sort, got into a r

is sh

ion for violence," said Barry laconically. "I've just had a note from her mother, who's near

y understand that the better. She wasn't any great treasure, either. She was too fond of revising

r someone to take her place, t

n-age when women take to militant suffragism. She didn't like being corrected when she made mist

t. I'll d

d of working. Of course that's a bit better than militancy, less upsetting; but women are so incomprehensible

and he spoke shortly, whereupon Owen smiled meaning

rarely mentioned the subject, Barry knew well enough that he had not relinquished the idea of a speedy marriage. Once or twice Owen had asked him his opinion of this or that woman with whom they were

knew the history of his disastrous engagement too well-were, in many cases, friends of

ngton or Hampstead, girls with brothers who had knocked up against the young men in athletic or journalistic circles; an actress or two; good-hearted, ordinary young women fo

of these various girls, visited one of the actresses on a "first night," dined, reluctantly, in Earl's Court or Belsize Road, and on the following m

es went to show that the idea of marriage was still in his friend's thoughts; and Barry was now and again seriously u

ure of work, the interest of bringing forth the first realization o