“Well，now，goodnight。I’mgoingforalittlestroll。“Hisbrainwastooactivetosleep。Hekissedhismothergoodnightandwentoutintotheroad，hishatinhishand，thecool，moistwindonhishair。

　　Itwasverydark，thestarsbeingpartlyhiddenbyathinvapor。Oneachsidethehillsrose，everylinefamiliarasthefaceofanoldfriend。Awhippoorwillcalledoccasionallyfromthehillside，andthespasmodicjangleofabellnowandthentoldofsomecow’sbattlewiththemosquitoes。

　　Ashewalked，hepondereduponthetragedyhehadrediscoveredinthesepeople’slives。Outhereundertheinexorablespacesofthesky，adeepdistasteofhisownlifetookpossessionofhim。Hefeltlikegivingitallup。Hethoughtoftheinfinitetragedyoftheseliveswhichtheworldlovestocall“peacefulandpastoral。“HIS

　　mindwentoutintheaimtohelpthem。Whatcouldhedotomakelifebetterworthliving？Nothing。Theymustliveanddiepracticallyashesawthemtonight。

　　Andyetheknewthiswasamood，andthatinafewhourstheloveandthehabitoflifewouldcomebackuponhimanduponthem；

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