The Equinox (Volume I, Number III)

THE DAUGHTER OF THE HORSELEECH one simple, sane, clean truth, when glancing up, he saw that after all He had overlooked something. In the Infinite Universe which he had constructed there was a tiny crack. A tiny, tiny crack. Barely an inch of it. Well, the matter was easily remedied. As it chanced, there was a dainty little Spirit (with gossamer wings like a web of steel, and scarlet tissue of silk for his robes) flitting about, brandishing his tiny sword and spear in a thoroughly warlike manner. “Shun!” said the Great White Spirit. “ By the right, dress! “ Sappers, one pace forward, march ! “ Prepare to stop leak! “ Stop leak !” But the matter was not thus easily settled. After five hours’ strenuous work, the little spirit was exhausted, and the hole apparently no nearer being filled than before. He returned to the Great White Spirit. “ Beg pardon, sir!” he said; ‘but I can’t fill that there ‘ole nohow.” “No matter,” answered the Great White Spirit, with a metaphysical double entendre. ‘‘ You may go!” If anything, the crack was bigger than before, it seemed to Him. “This,” He said, “is clearly the job for Bartzabel.” And he despatched a “ speed” message for that worthy spirit. Bartzabel lost no time in answering the summons. Of flaming, radiant, far-darting gold was his crown; flashing hither and thither more swiftly than the lightning were its rays. His head was like the Sun in its strength, even at 203