Third Violet-Stephen Crane

Summary

King Arthur Podcast | Episode Summary

Podcast: King Arthur
Host: Joseph Comyns Carr
Episode: Third Violet – Stephen Crane
Date: August 10, 2026
Featured Readers: Amanda Friday et al.

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Episode Overview

This episode is a fully dramatized reading of Stephen Crane's novel The Third Violet—a story set in Gilded Age America, where a young artist from the city finds love, rivalry, and self-knowledge in the mountains. The episode delves into themes of romance, class, ambition, artistic struggle, and the misunderstandings arising between city and country, men and women, and lovers and friends.

The reading spans multiple chapters and is crafted as a vibrant audio drama with a large ensemble cast. Through these voices, listeners are transported to idyllic rural scenery, lively inns, artist dens in New York, and the emotional highs and lows of early love.

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Key Discussion Points & Insights

1. Arrival in the Country & Initial Encounters

• Billy Hawker, a struggling painter, arrives at the mountain station burdened with art supplies and anticipation.
• He has a comic accident with a little boy (03:40). The first social tapestry of the summer is already being woven as newcomers and locals mingle.
• Introduction of Grace Fanhall: A chance moment at the stagecoach introduces Billy to the enigmatic and quietly magnetic Grace.
  • Notable moment: “He was crying to himself, 'Wouldn't I like to paint her, though? What a glance. Oh, murder. The distance in her eyes.'” (06:25)

2. Reuniting with Family

• Billy’s return to his rural family is warmly depicted, mixing nostalgia with change. There's festive clamor, and poignant dialogue about aging, family pride, and longing.
  • Quote: "He used to be so fond of them when he was little..." (18:42)
• The family worries about Billy being “changed”—reflecting tensions between city and country values (95:12).

3. Artistic Ambition vs. Love

• Hawker meets his friend Hollanden, a literary man, who teases and advises him about Grace.
  • Sharp exchange: “Why don’t you marry Miss Fanhall?” (25:21); “Oh, shut up, Holly,” replied Hawker (26:48).
• Their banter reflects generational questions about romance and career:
  • Hollanden: "You must appreciate your rivals to her, you understand? And kindly." (37:48)

4. Summer Society at Hemlock Inn

• Crane lampoons and humanizes the crowd of middle-aged ladies who dominate the inn’s social life:
  • Notable anecdote, Hollanden: “They sit in a large group on that porch and take measurements of character as importantly as if they constituted the jury of heaven.” (31:49)
• The interplay between young artists, wealthy visitors, and small-town folk provides both comic relief and social critique.

5. Developing Romance & Conflict

• The core of the episode follows Hawker and Grace’s awkward, heartfelt, and sometimes antagonistic courtship—filled with misunderstandings, pride, class consciousness, and self-doubt.
  • Their conversations oscillate between flirtation and sparring:
    • “You are the most scientifically unbearable person in the world.” (52:37)
    • “You are a very ridiculous person.” (140:44)
• The theme of ‘three violets’—flowers given and found—is woven into their story as tokens of affection and ambiguity.

6. The Rival: Oglethorpe’s Arrival

• Oglethorpe, Grace’s wealthy and charming friend, arrives, stirring doubt and jealousy in Billy (75:03 onward).
  • The middle-aged women at the inn gossip shrilly about pedigree, money, and the social pecking order. (106:57–110:29)
• Hawker’s spiraling insecurity is mirrored by comic and poignant scenes of masculine anxiety.

7. Satire of Artistic Circles

• The narrative shifts back to New York, where Hawker’s artist friends—Wrinkles, Great Grief, Pennoyer, Florinda, and others—struggle humorously with poverty, rent, and self-esteem.
  • Comic moment: “How are we going to eat again?” (174:38)
  • Pennoyer: “If a man loves a woman better than the whole universe, how much does he love the whole universe?” (218:46)
• Florinda's unrequited affections for Billy sharply contrast with his devotion to Grace.

8. Resolution and Emotional Climax

• The final chapters find Billy and Grace in emotional standoffs and reconciliations, symbolized by the giving of a third violet (285:36).
  • Hawker: “I have the three violets now, you know. And you must remember that I took the third one even when you flung it at my head. That will remind you how submissive I was in my devotion.” (288:29)
  • Grace: “That night at the inn…” (289:11)
• In a scene full of vulnerability and comic self-awareness, their feelings are finally revealed, unlocking the climax of both romance and artistic fulfillment.

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Notable Quotes & Memorable Moments

• Billy Hawker’s longing & self-mockery:
  “Whenever I’m with that girl, I’m such a blockhead. I’m not so stupid, Holly. But when I’m with her, I can’t be clever to save my life.” – Billy (64:34)
• Hollanden on the summer hotel society:
  "They sit in a large group on that porch and take measurements of character as importantly as if they constituted the jury of heaven." (31:49)
• Grace to Billy during a spat:
  “You are a very ridiculous person.” (140:44)
• Billy’s vulnerability at the end:
  “It is very hard to go away and leave an impression in your mind that I am a fool. That is very hard. Now you do think I am a fool, don’t you?” (289:25)
• Florinda’s touching honesty:
  “What if I do [like Billy Hawker]? It’s better than liking one of you dubs anyhow.” (182:43)
• The symbolic third violet:
  “Here’s a third one.” – Grace (285:36)

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Timestamps for Important Segments

• Arrival at the Mountain Station: 03:03–07:30
• Billy’s Homecoming & Family Dynamics: 14:22–19:00
• Billy & Hollanden’s Banter on Love & Art: 25:02–29:41
• Gossip and Social Satire at the Inn: 31:49–35:37
• Billy Confesses His Feelings to Grace: 120:32–121:30
• Climax with the Third Violet: 285:30–289:02

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Tone & Language

The cast embodies Crane’s wit, irony, and tenderness. The dialogue is brisk, emotionally candid, and laced with the era’s mannered quips. The mood shifts nimbly from romantic comedy of manners to Chekhovian frustration, and from social satire to genuine yearning.

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Conclusion

“Third Violet” is both a playful romance and a serious meditation on art, love, and self-perception. The podcast captures this with humor, compassion, and sharp observation, making both Stephen Crane and the world of his novel come alive for modern listeners.

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End of Summary

Transcript

[Billy Hawker]

We the ones still showing up holding

[Narrator/Announcer]

hands when times are done Anyone can make an impact get inspired to show up for your community by listening to the full Gotta Be Us song and Be the People. Share Playlist Share your own version of Gotta Be Us with the hashtag BeThePeopleOpenCall before July 12th for a chance to record it in a studio and be heard by music execs. No purchase necessary. Open June 18 through July 12, 2026, to legal residents in the U.S. minors require parental consent. See bethepeopleopencall.com for details. Sponsored by Bigger Picture. Anyone can make an impact. Get inspired to show up for your community by listening to the full Gotta be Us song and be the people.

[Billy Hawker]

Share playlist Chapter 1 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org cast of characters Billy Hawker,

[George Hollanden]

read by Greg Giordano Grace Van hall,

[Grace Van Hall]

read by Christine Rucker George Hollander, read

[Florinda O'Connor]

by Beeswax Candle Florinda, read by Jen

[Pennoyer]

Broda Peignoir, read by Larry Wilson Wrinkles,

[Wrinkles]

read by Adrian Stevens Great Grief, read

[John Harker]

by Karma Emmings John Harker, read by

[Mother Hawker]

Todd Mother Hawker, read by Lynette Calkins

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

Mary the younger Hawker Sister, read by

[Billy Hawker]

Nora Nelson Older Hawker Sister, read by Stunning younger Worsterga Millicent, read by Agnes

[Grace Van Hall]

Robert Baer Elder Worcester Girl, read by

[Major]

Winifred Aspen Lucien Pontiac, read by Major

[Billy Hawker]

Toast Purple Sanderson, read by Brian Fullen Mr. Oglethorpe, read by David Purdy Mrs.

[Grace Van Hall]

Truscott, read by Claudia Candy Gossiper 1,

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

read by Newgate Novelist The Second Gossiper, read by Nora Nelson Gossiper 3, read

[Billy Hawker]

by Redrun Gossiper Number 4, read by Marie Christian Gossiper 5, read by Stunning

[Hollanden]

Nursemaid, read by Claudia Galdi Roger, read

[Billy Hawker]

by Nora Nelson Roger's Mother, read by

[Major]

Daniela Gora Stagecoach Driver, read by Major

[Billy Hawker]

Toast Cashier, read by David Purdy Extras read by Claudio Galpi Narration read by Chuck Williamson the Third Violet by Stephen Crane Chapter one the engine bellowed its way up the slanting, winding valley. Gray crags and trees, with roots fastened cleverly to the steel steeps, looked down at the struggles of the black monster. When the train finally released its passengers, they burst forth with the enthusiasm of escaping convicts. A great bustle ensued on the platform of the little mountain station. The idlers and philosophers from the village were present to examine the consignment assignment of people from the city. These latter Loaded with bundles and children thronged at the stage drivers. The stage drivers thronged at the people from the city. Hawker, with his clothes case, his paint box, his easel, climbed awkwardly down the steps of the car. The easel swung uncontrolled and knocked against the head of a little boy who was disembarking backward with fine caution. Hello, little man, said Hawker.

[George Hollanden]

Did it hurt?

[Billy Hawker]

The child regarded him in silence and with sudden interest, as if Hawker had called his attention to a phenomenon. The young painter was politely waiting until the little boy should conclude his examination, But a voice behind him cried, oh,

[Hollanden]

dear, go on down.

[Billy Hawker]

A nursemaid was conducting a little girl where she would probably be struck by the other end of the easel. The boy resumed his cautious descent. The stage drivers made such great noise as a collection that as individuals, their identities were lost with a highly important air. As a man proud of being so busy, the baggageman of the train was thundering trunks at the other employees on the platform. Hawker, prowling through the crowd, heard a voice near his shoulder. Say, do you know where is the

[Grace Van Hall]

stage for Hemlock Inn?

[Billy Hawker]

Hawker turned and found a young woman regarding him. A wave of astonishment whirled into his hair, and he turned his eyes quickly for fear that she would think that he had looked at her.

[George Hollanden]

He said, yes, certainly. I think I can find it.

[Billy Hawker]

At the same time he was crying

[George Hollanden]

to himself, wouldn't I like to paint her, though? What a glance. Oh, murder. The the distance in her eyes.

[Billy Hawker]

He went fiercely from one driver to another. That obdurate stage for Hemlock Inn must appear at once. Finally he perceived a man who grinned expectantly at him.

[George Hollanden]

Oh, said Hawker, you drive the stage for Hemlock Inn.

[Billy Hawker]

The man admitted it. Hawker said, here's the stage. The young woman smiled. The driver inserted Hocker and his luggage from far into the end of the vehicle. He sat there crooked forward so that his eyes should see the first coming of the girl into the frame of light at the other end of the stage. Presently she appeared there. She was bringing the little boy, the little girl, the nursemaid, and another young woman who is at once to be known as the mother of the two children. The girl indicated the stage with a small gesture of triumph. When they were all seated uncomfortably in the huge covered vehicle, the little boy gave Hocker a glance of recognition.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

It hurted then, but it's all right

[Billy Hawker]

now, he informed him cheerfully.

[George Hollanden]

Did it?

[Billy Hawker]

Replied Hawker.

[George Hollanden]

Im sorry.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

Oh, I didn't mind it much, continued

[Billy Hawker]

the little boy, swinging his long red leather leggings bravely. To and fro.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

I don't cry when I'm hurt anyhow.

[Billy Hawker]

He cast a meaningful look at his tiny sister, whose soft lips set defensively. The driver climbed into his seat, and after a scrutiny of the group in the gloom of the stage, he chirped to his horses. They began a slow and thoughtful trotting. Dust streamed out behind the vehicle in front of the green hills were still and serene in the evening air. A beam of gold struck them aslant, and on the sky was lemon and pink information of the sun's sinking. The driver knew many people along the road, and from time to time he conversed with them in yells. The two children were opposite Hawker. They sat very correctly mucilage to their seats, but their large eyes were always upon Hawker, calmly valuing him.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

Do you think it nice to be in the country?

[Billy Hawker]

I do, said the boy. I like it very well, answered Hawker.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

I shall go fishing and hunting and. And everything. Maybe I shall shoot a bears.

[George Hollanden]

I hope you may.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

Did you ever shoot a bears?

[George Hollanden]

No.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

Well, I didn't too, but maybe I will, Mr. Hollanden. He said he'd look around for one where I live.

[Billy Hawker]

Roger, interrupted the mother from her seat at Hawker's side. Perhaps not everyone is interested in your conversation. The boy seemed embarrassed at this interruption, for he leaned back in silence with an apologetic look at Hawker. Presently the stage began to climb the hills, and the two children were obliged to take grip upon the cushions for fear of being precipitated upon the nursemaid.

[Hollanden]

Oh, beautiful, Spreading love everywhere we go

[Great Grief]

all of my everyday people we're the proof.

[Narrator/Announcer]

All right, now your turn. Create your own version of Gotta Be Us and post it using BeThePleOpenCall for a chance to win a trip to record it in a professional studio, plus have it played for a panel of music execs. Come on, you've got this. No purchase necessary. Open June 18 through July 12, 2026, to legal residents of the US 16. Minors require parental consent. See BeThePeopleOpenCall.com for details. Sponsored by Bigger Picture US. Share your own version of Gotta Be Us with the hashtag BeThePeople. Open call before July 12th for a chance to record it in a studio and be heard by music execs. No purchase necessary. Open June 18 through July 12, 2026, to legal residents in the U.S. minors require parental consent. See Be the People open call.com for details. Sponsored by Bigger Picture U.S. Anyone can make an impact. Get inspired to show up for your community by listening to the full gotta be a song and be the people Share playlist.

[Billy Hawker]

Fate had arranged it so that Hocker could not observe the girl with the the the distance in her eyes without leaning forward and discovering to her his interest. Secretly and impiously he wriggled in his seat, and as the bumping stage swung its passengers this way and that way, he obtained fleeting glances of a cheek, an arm, or a shoulder. The driver's conversational tone to his passengers was also a yell.

[Major]

Train was an hour late tonight, he

[Billy Hawker]

said, addressing the interior.

[Major]

It'll be 9 o' clock before we get to the inn, and it'll be pretty dark.

[Billy Hawker]

Traveling Hawker waited decently, but at last he said, will it?

[Major]

Yes. No moon.

[Billy Hawker]

He turned to face Hawker and roared,

[Major]

you're old Jim Hawkins, son, ain't you?

[George Hollanden]

Yes.

[Major]

I thought I'd seen you before. Live in the city now, don't you?

[George Hollanden]

Yes.

[Major]

Want to get off at the crossroad?

[George Hollanden]

Yes.

[Major]

Come up for a little stay during the summer?

[George Hollanden]

Yes.

[Major]

Only charge you a quarter if you get off at the crossroad. Used to charge them 50 cents, but I says to the old man, ain't no use. God damn them. They'll walk rather than pay 50 cents. Yep. Only a quarter.

[Billy Hawker]

And the shadows. Hawker's expression seemed assassin like he glanced furtively down the stage. She was apparently deep in talk with the mother of the children. End of Chapter One. Chapter 2 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 2 When Hawker pushed at the old gate, it hesitated because of a broken hinge. A dog barked with loud ferocity and came headlong over the grass.

[George Hollanden]

Hello, Stanley, old man.

[Billy Hawker]

Cried Hawker. The ardor for battle was instantly smitten from the dog, and his barking swallowed in a gurgle of delight. He was a large orange and white setter, and he partly expressed his emotion by twisting his body into a fantastic curve and then dancing over the ground. With his head and his tail very near to each other, he gave vent to little sobs in a wild attempt to vocally describe his gladness.

[George Hollanden]

Well, he was a drit dud, said

[Billy Hawker]

Hawker, and the setter, overwhelmed, contorted himself wonderfully. There were lights in the kitchen, and at the first barking of the dog the door had been thrown open. Hawker saw his two sisters shading their eyes and peering down the yellow stream. Presently they shouted, here he is. They flung themselves out, and upon him they panted, we're awful glad to see you. In a whirlwind of ejaculation and unanswerable interrogation. They grappled the clothes case, the paint box, the easel, and dragged him toward the house. He saw his old mother seated in a rocking chair by the table. She had laid aside her paper and was adjusting her glasses as she scanned the darkness.

[George Hollanden]

Hello, Mother.

[Billy Hawker]

Cried Hawker as he entered. His eyes were bright. The old mother reached her arms to his neck. He murmured soft and half articulate words. Meanwhile the dog writhed from one to another. He raised his muzzle high to express his delight. He was always fully convinced that he was taking a principal part in the ceremony of welcome and that everyone was heeding him.

[Mother Hawker]

Have you had your supper?

[Billy Hawker]

Asked the old mother. As soon as she recovered herself. The girls clamoured sentences at him. Pa's out in the barn, Will.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

What made you so late?

[Great Grief]

He said.

[Billy Hawker]

Maybe he'd go up to the crossroads to see if he could see the stage.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

Maybe he's gone.

[Billy Hawker]

What made you so late?

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

And oh, we got a new buggy,

[Billy Hawker]

the old mother repeated anxiously.

[Mother Hawker]

Have you had your supper?

[Billy Hawker]

No, said Hawker, but the three women sprang to their feet.

[Mother Hawker]

Well, we'll get you something right away.

[Billy Hawker]

They bustled about the kitchen and dove from time to time into the cellar. They called to each other in happy voices. Steps sounded on the line of stones that led from the door toward the barn, and a shout came from the darkness.

[John Harker]

Well, William, home again, eh?

[Billy Hawker]

Hawker's gray father came stamping genially into the room.

[John Harker]

I thought maybe you got lost. I was a comin to hunt you,

[Billy Hawker]

he said, grinning as they stood with gripped hands.

[John Harker]

What made you so late?

[Billy Hawker]

While Hocker confronted the supper, the family sat about and contemplated him with shining eyes. His sister noted his tie and propounded some questions concerning it. His mother watched to make sure that he should consume a notable quantity of the preserved cherries.

[Mother Hawker]

He used to be so fond of him when he was little, she said.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

Oh, Will.

[Billy Hawker]

Cried the younger sister.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

Do you remember little Johnson? Yeah, she's married. Married Last June.

[John Harker]

Here's the boy's room.

[Mother Hawker]

Already?

[Billy Hawker]

Mother Asked the father. We fixed it this morning, she said. And do you remember Jeff Decker? Shouted the elder sister. Well, he's dead.

[Pennoyer]

Yep.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Drowned.

[George Hollanden]

Pickerel.

[Billy Hawker]

Fishin' pore feller.

[John Harker]

Well, how you get along? William?

[Billy Hawker]

Asked the father.

[John Harker]

Sell many pictures?

[George Hollanden]

An occasional one.

[John Harker]

Saw your illustrations and the main number of Perkinsons.

[Billy Hawker]

The old man paused for a moment and then added quite weakly, pretty good.

[George Hollanden]

How's everything about the place?

[John Harker]

Oh, just about the same. About the same. The colt ran away with me last week, but didn't break nothing, though I was scared because I had out the new buggy. We got a new buggy, but it didn't break nothing. I'm going to sell the oxen in the fall. I don't want to winter them. And then in the spring I'll get a good hoss. Team I rented the back five acre to John Westfall. I had more' n I could handle with only one hired hand. Times is picking up a little, but not much. Not much and we got a new

[Billy Hawker]

school teacher, said one of the girls.

[Mother Hawker]

Will you never noticed my new rocker,

[Billy Hawker]

said the old mother, pointing.

[Mother Hawker]

I set it right where I thought you'd see it and you never took no notice. Ain't it nice? Father bought it at Monticello for my birthday. I thought you'd notice it first thing.

[Billy Hawker]

When Hawker had retired for the night, he raised a sash and sat by the window smoking. The odor of the woods and the fields came sweetly to his nostrils. The crickets chanted their hymn of the night. On the black brow of the mountain he could see two long rows of twinkling dots which marked the position of Hemlock Inn. Chapter 2. Chapter 3 of the Third Fillet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 3 Hawker had a writing friend named Hollanden in New York. Hollanden had announced his resolution to spend the summer at Hemlock Inn. We the ones still showing up holding hands.

[Narrator/Announcer]

When times are done, anyone can make an impact. Get inspired to show up for your community by listening to the full Gotta Be Us song and Be the People Share playlist.

[George Hollanden]

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[Billy Hawker]

I love that I can earn hotel credits when I travel.

[George Hollanden]

I can also earn resi credits so

[Billy Hawker]

you know I'm hitting the restaurants everyone's talking about. Plus with the digital entertainment credit, I'm even more excited to catch my favorite shows. All in all, I can access over

[George Hollanden]

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[Narrator/Announcer]

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[Billy Hawker]

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[Grainger Announcer]

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[Hollanden]

done I don't like to see the

[Billy Hawker]

world progressing, he had said.

[Hollanden]

I should go to Sullivan county for a time.

[Billy Hawker]

In the morning Hawker took his painting equipment, and after manoeuvring in the fields until he had proved to himself that he had no desire to go toward the inn, he went toward it. The time was only 9 o' clock and he knew that he had no hope to see Hollandon. But before 11, as it was only through rumour that Hollanden was aware that there was a sunrise and an early morning, Hawker encamped in front of some fields of vivid yellow stubble on which trees made olive shadows and which was overhung by a China blue sky and sundry little clouds. He fiddled away perfunctorily at it. A spectator would have believed probably that he was sketching the pines in the hill where shone the red porches of Hemlock Inn. Finally a white flannel young man walked into the landscape. Hawker waved a brush.

[George Hollanden]

Hi, Holly. Get out of the color scheme.

[Billy Hawker]

At this cry, the white flannel young man looked down at his feet apprehensively. Finally he came forward, grinning.

[Hollanden]

Why, hello, Hawker old boy. Glad to find you here.

[Billy Hawker]

He perched on a boulder and began to study Hawker's canvas and the vivid yellow stubble and the olive shadows. He wheeled his eyes from one to the other. Say, Hawker, he said suddenly, why don't

[Hollanden]

you marry Miss Fanhall?

[Billy Hawker]

Hawker had a brush in his mouth, but he took it quickly out and

[George Hollanden]

said, marry Miss Fanhall? Who the devil is Miss Vanhall?

[Billy Hawker]

Hollandon clasped both hands about his knee and looked thoughtfully away. Oh, she's a girl, she is, said Hawker.

[Hollanden]

Yes, she came to the inn last night with her sister in law and a small tribe of young fan hors. There's six of them, I think.

[Billy Hawker]

Two, said Hawker.

[George Hollanden]

A boy and a girl.

[Billy Hawker]

How do you.

[Hollanden]

Oh, you must have come up with them, of course. Why, then you saw her.

[George Hollanden]

Was that her?

[Billy Hawker]

Asked Hawker listlessly.

[Hollanden]

Was that her?

[Billy Hawker]

Cried Hollanden with indignation.

[Hollanden]

Was that her?

[Billy Hawker]

Oh, said Hawker, Hollanden mused again.

[Hollanden]

She's got lots of money, he said. Loads of it. And I think she would be fool enough to have sympathy for you and your work. They're a tremendously wealthy crowd, although they treat it simply. It would be a good thing for you, I believe. Yes, I'm sure she could be fool enough to have sympathy for you in your work now, if you weren't such a hopeless chump.

[Billy Hawker]

Oh, shut up, Holly, said the painter. For a time Hollanden did as he was bid, but at Last he talked again.

[Hollanden]

Can't think why they came up here. Must be a sister in law's health. Something like that. She.

[Billy Hawker]

Great heavens, said Hocker.

[George Hollanden]

You speak of nothing else.

[Hollanden]

Well, you saw her, didn't you?

[Billy Hawker]

Demanded Hollanden.

[Hollanden]

What can you expect then from a man of my sense? You, you old stick, you.

[Billy Hawker]

It was quite dark, protested the painter.

[Hollanden]

Quite dark?

[Billy Hawker]

Repeated Hollanden in a wrathful voice.

[Hollanden]

What if it was?

[George Hollanden]

Well, that is bound to make a difference in a man's opinion, you know.

[Hollanden]

No, it isn't. It was light down at the railroad station anyhow, if you'd any sand thunder. But I did get up early this morning. Say, do you play tennis?

[George Hollanden]

After a fashion, said Harker. Why?

[Billy Hawker]

Oh, nothing, replied Hollanden sadly.

[Hollanden]

Only they're wearying me out at the game. I had to get up and play before breakfast this morning with the Worcester girls. And there is a lot more mad players who'll be down on me before long. It is a terrible thing to be a tennis player.

[George Hollanden]

Why, you used to put yourself out so little for people, remarked Hawker.

[Hollanden]

Yes, but up there.

[Billy Hawker]

Holland jerked his thumb in the direction of the yen.

[Hollanden]

They think I'm so amiable.

[George Hollanden]

Well, I'll come up and help you out.

[Pennoyer]

Do.

[Billy Hawker]

Holland laughed.

[Hollanden]

You and Miss Fanhore can team it against the littlest wister girl.

[Wrinkles]

And me.

[Billy Hawker]

He regarded the landscape and meditated. Hawker struggled for a grip on the thought of the stubble.

[Hollanden]

That colour of hair and eyes always

[Billy Hawker]

knocks me kerplunk, observed Hollanden softly. Hawker looked up irascibly.

[George Hollanden]

What color hair and eyes?

[Billy Hawker]

He demanded.

[George Hollanden]

I believe you're crazy.

[Hollanden]

What color hair and eyes?

[Billy Hawker]

Repeated Hollanden with a savage gesture.

[Hollanden]

You've got no more appreciation than a post.

[George Hollanden]

They're good enough for me, muttered Hawker,

[Billy Hawker]

turning again to his work. He scowled, first at the canvas and then at the stubble.

[George Hollanden]

Seems to me you had best take care of yourself instead of planning for me, he said.

[John Harker]

Me?

[Billy Hawker]

Cried Hollanden.

[Hollanden]

Me take care of myself? My boy, I've got a past of sorrow and gloom.

[George Hollanden]

You're nothing but a kid, said Hawker,

[Billy Hawker]

glaring at the other man. Oh, of course, said Hollanden, wagging his head with midnight wisdom.

[Hollanden]

Oh, of course.

[Billy Hawker]

Well, Holly, said Hawker with sudden affability,

[George Hollanden]

I didn't mean to be unpleasant. But then you are rather ridiculous, you know, sitting up there and howling about the colour of hair and eyes.

[Hollanden]

I'm not ridiculous.

[George Hollanden]

Yes, you are. You know Holly.

[Billy Hawker]

The rider waved his hand despairingly.

[Hollanden]

And you rode in the train with her and in the stage.

[George Hollanden]

I didn't see her in the train, said Hawker.

[Hollanden]

Oh, then you saw her in the stage. You old thief. I sat up here and you sat down there and lied.

[Billy Hawker]

He jumped from his perch and belaboured Hocker's shoulders.

[George Hollanden]

Stop that.

[Billy Hawker]

Said the painter.

[Hollanden]

No, you old thief. You lied to me. You lied. Hold on. Bless my life. Here she comes now.

[Billy Hawker]

End of Chapter Three. Chapter 4 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 4 One day Hollanden said, There

[Hollanden]

are 42 people at Hemlock Inn. I think 15 are middle aged ladies in the most aggressive respectability. They have come here for no discernible purpose save to get where they can see people and be displeased at them. They sit in a large group on that porch and take measurements of character as importantly as if they constituted the jury of heaven. When I arrived at Hemlock Inn, I at once cast my eye searchingly about me perceiving this assemblage, I cried, there they are. Barely waiting to change my clothes, I made for this formidable body and endeavoured to conciliate it. Almost every day I sit down among them and lie like a machine. Privately I believe they should be hanged, but publicly I glisten with admiration. Do you know, there is one of them who I know has not moved from the inn in eight days. And this morning I said to her, these long walks in the clear mountain air are doing you a world of good. And I keep continually saying, your frankness is so charming. Because of the great law of universal balance, I know that this illustrious corps will believe good of themselves with exactly the same readiness that they will believe ill of others. So I ply them with it. In consequence, the worst they ever say of me is, isn't that Mr. Hollanden a peculiar man? D' you know, my boy, that's not so bad for a literary person.

[Billy Hawker]

After some thought he good people too,

[Hollanden]

good wives, good mothers and everything of that kind, you know. But conservative, very conservative. Hate anything radical cannot endure it were that way themselves. Once, you know, they hit them out too sometimes. Such general volleyings can't fail to hit everything. Let the devil fly away with them.

[Billy Hawker]

Hawker regarded the group nervously and at last propounded a great question.

[George Hollanden]

Say, I wonder where they all are recruited, when you come to think that almost every summer hotel.

[Billy Hawker]

Certainly, said Holland, almost every summer hotel.

[Hollanden]

I've studied the question and have nearly established the fact that almost every summer hotel is furnished with a full core

[Billy Hawker]

of to be sure, said Hawker, and

[George Hollanden]

if you search for them in the winter, you can Find barely a sign of them until you examine the boarding houses and then you observe.

[Billy Hawker]

Certainly, said Holland.

[Hollanden]

Of course.

[Billy Hawker]

By the way, he added, you haven't

[Hollanden]

got any obviously loose screws in your character, have you?

[Billy Hawker]

No, said Hawker.

[George Hollanden]

After consideration, only general poverty, that's all.

[Billy Hawker]

Of course, of course, said Hollanden, but that's bad.

[Hollanden]

They'll get on to you sure. Particularly since you come up here to see Miss Fanhall so much.

[Billy Hawker]

Hawker glinted his eyes at his friend.

[George Hollanden]

You've got a deuced open way of speaking.

[Hollanden]

Deuced open, is it?

[Billy Hawker]

Cried Hollandon.

[Hollanden]

It isn't near so open as your devotion to Miss Fanhall, which is as plain as a red petticoat hung on a hedge.

[Billy Hawker]

Hawker's face gloomed, and he said, well,

[George Hollanden]

it might be plain to you, you infernal cat, but that doesn't prove that all those old hens can see it.

[Hollanden]

I tell you that. If they look twice at you, they can't fail to see it. And it's bad, too. Very bad. What's the matter with you? Haven't you ever been in love before?

[George Hollanden]

None of your business, replied Hawker.

[Billy Hawker]

Holland thought upon this point for a time. Well, he admitted finally, that's true in

[Hollanden]

a general way, but I hate to see you managing your affairs so stupidly.

[Billy Hawker]

Rage flamed into Hawker's face and he cried passionately.

[George Hollanden]

I tell you, it is none of your business.

[Billy Hawker]

He suddenly confronted the other man. Holland surveyed this outburst with a critical eye and then slapped his knee with emphasis.

[Hollanden]

You certainly have got it a million times worse than I thought.

[Mother Hawker]

Why, you.

[Hollanden]

You're heels over head.

[George Hollanden]

What if I am?

[Billy Hawker]

Said Hawker with a gesture of defiance and despair. Holland saw a dramatic situation in the distance, and with a bright smile he studied it.

[Hollanden]

Say.

[Billy Hawker]

He exclaimed, suppose she could not go

[Hollanden]

to the picnic to morrow? She said this morning she did not know if she could go. Somebody was expected from New York, I think. Wouldn't it break you up, though, eh?

[Billy Hawker]

You're so devilish clever, said Hawker with sullen irony. Hollanden was still regarding the distant dramatic situation.

[Hollanden]

And rivals, too. The woods must be crowded with them. Go like that, you know. Then all that money, say, your rivals must number enough to make a brigade of militiamagine them swarming around.

[Billy Hawker]

But it doesn't matter so much, he went on cheerfully.

[Hollanden]

You've got a good play there. You must appreciate them to her, you understand? Appreciate them kindly, like a man in a watchtower. You must laugh at them only about once a week, and then very tolerantly, you understand? And kindly and and appreciatively.

[George Hollanden]

You're a colossal ass, Holly, said Hawker.

[Billy Hawker]

You yes, yes, I know, replied the other peacefully.

[Hollanden]

A colossal ass. Of course.

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[Billy Hawker]

After looking into the distance again, he

[Hollanden]

murmured, im worried about that picnic. I wish I knew she was going by. Heavens. As a matter of fact, she must be made to go.

[George Hollanden]

What have you got to do with it?

[Billy Hawker]

Cried the painter in another sudden outburst. Dead there. Said Hollanden, waving his hand.

[George Hollanden]

You fool.

[Hollanden]

Only a spectator, I assure you.

[Billy Hawker]

Hawker seemed overcome with a deep dislike of himself.

[George Hollanden]

Oh well, you know, Holly. This sort of thing.

[Billy Hawker]

He broke off and gazed at the trees.

[George Hollanden]

This sort of thing. It's how?

[Billy Hawker]

Asked Holland.

[George Hollanden]

Confound you for meddling. Gabbling idiot.

[Billy Hawker]

Cried Hawker. Suddenly Hollanden replied, what did you do

[Hollanden]

with that violet she dropped at the side of the tennis court yesterday?

[Billy Hawker]

End of Chapter Four. Chapter 5 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 5 Mrs. Fanhall with the two children, the Wister girls in Hollandon clambered down the rocky path. Ms. Fanhall and Hocker had remained on top of the ledge. Hollanden showed much zeal in conducting his contingent to the foot of the falls. Through the trees they could see the cataract, a great shimmering white thing, booming and thundering until all the leaves gently shuddered. I wonder where Ms. Van Hul and Mr. Harker have gone, said the younger Miss Wooster. I wonder where they've gone. Millicent, said Hollanden, looking at her fondly.

[Hollanden]

You always had such great thought for others.

[Billy Hawker]

Well, I wonder where they've gone. At the foot of the falls, where the mist arose in silver clouds and the green water swept into the pool. Ms. Wooster, the the elder seated on the moss, exclaimed, oh, Mr. Hollanden, what

[Grace Van Hall]

makes all literary men so peculiar and

[Hollanden]

all that just because I said I could have made better digestive organs than Providence? If it is true that he made

[Billy Hawker]

mine, Replied Hollanden with reproach.

[Hollanden]

Here, Roger.

[Billy Hawker]

He cried as he dragged the child away from the brink.

[Hollanden]

Don't fall in there, or you won't be the fallback at Yale in 1907 as you have planned. I'm sure I don't know how to answer you, Miss Wister. I've inquired of innumerable literary men, and none of them know, I may say I have chased that problem for years. I might give you my personal history and see if that would throw any light on the subject.

[Billy Hawker]

He looked about him with chin high until his glance had noted the two vague figures at the top of the cliff.

[Hollanden]

I might give you my personal history.

[Billy Hawker]

Mrs. Fanhall looked at him curiously, and the elder Worcester girl cried, oh, do. After another scanning of the figures at the top of the cliff, Hollanden established himself in an oratorical pose on a great weather beaten stone.

[Hollanden]

Well, you must understand I started my career, my career, you understand, with the determination to be a prophet. And although I have ended in being an acrobat, a trained bearer of the magazines, and a juggler of comic paragraphs, there was once carved upon my lips a smile which made many people detest me, for it hung before them like a banshee whenever they tried to be satisfied with themselves. I was informed from time to time that I was making no great holes in the universal plan, and I came to know that one person in every 2,000 of the people I saw had heard of me, and that four out of five of these had forgotten it, and then one and every two of those who remembered that they had heard of me regarded the fact that I wrote as a great impertinence. I admitted these things and in defence merely builded a maxim that stated that each wise man in this world is concealed amid some twisted 20,000 fools. If you have eyes for mathematics, this conclusion should interest you. Meanwhile, I created a gigantic dignity. When men saw this dignity and heard that I was a literary man, they respected me. I concluded that the simple campaign of existence for me was to delude the populace, or as much as would look at me. I did, I do. And now I can make myself quite happy concocting sneers about it. Others may do as they please, but

[Billy Hawker]

as for me, he concluded ferociously, I

[Hollanden]

shall never disclose to anybody that an acrobat, a trained bearer of the magazines, a juggler of comic paragraphs, is not a priceless pearl of art and philosophy.

[Grace Van Hall]

I don't believe a word of it

[Billy Hawker]

is true, said Miss Wooster.

[Hollanden]

What do you expect of autobiography?

[Billy Hawker]

Demanded Hollanden with asperity. Well, anyhow, Holly. Exclaimed the younger sister, you didn't explain a thing about how literary men came to be so peculiar. And that's what you started out to do, you know. Well, said Hollanden crossly, you must never

[Hollanden]

expect a man to do what he starts to do, Millicent.

[Billy Hawker]

And besides, he went on with the gleam of a sudden idea in his

[Hollanden]

eyes, literary men are not peculiar anyhow.

[Billy Hawker]

The elder Worcester girl looked angrily at him.

[Grace Van Hall]

Indeed, not you, of course, but the others.

[Billy Hawker]

They're all asses, said Hollandon genially. The elder Worcester girl reflected. I believe you try to make us think and then just tangle us up purposely, the younger Woostergirl reflected. You are an absurd old thing, you know, Holly Holland climbed offendedly from the great weather beaten stone.

[Hollanden]

Well, I should go and see that the men have not spilled the luncheon while breaking their necks over these rocks. Would you like to have it spread here, Mrs. Fanhall? Never mind consulting the girls. I assure you I shall spend a great deal of energy and temper in bullying them into doing just as they please. Why, when I was in Brussels.

[Billy Hawker]

Oh, come now, Holly. You were never in Brussels, you know, said the younger Woostergirl.

[Hollanden]

What of that, Millicent?

[Billy Hawker]

Demanded Hollanden.

[Hollanden]

This is autobiography.

[Billy Hawker]

Well, I don't care, Holly. You tell such whoppers. With a gesture of despair he again started away, whereupon the Worcester girl shouted in chorus, oh, I say, Holly, come back.

[Grace Van Hall]

Don't be angry.

[Billy Hawker]

We didn't mean to tease you, Holly, really we didn't. Well, if you didn't, said Hollanden, why did you? The elder Worcester girl was gazing fixedly at the top of the cliff.

[Grace Van Hall]

Oh, there they are. I wonder why they don't come down.

[Billy Hawker]

End of Chapter Five. Chapter 6 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 6 Stanley the Setter walked the edge of the precipice and, looking over at the falls, wagged his tail in friendly greeting. He was braced warily so that if this howling white animal should reach up a hand for him, he could flee in time. The girl stared dreamily at the red stained crags that projected from the pines of the hill across the stream. Hawker lazily aimed bits of moss at the oblivious dog and missed him.

[Grace Van Hall]

It must be fine to have something to think of beyond just living, said

[Billy Hawker]

the girl to the crags.

[George Hollanden]

I suppose you mean art, said Hawker.

[Grace Van Hall]

Yes, of course. It must be finer at any rate than the ordinary thing, he mused for a time.

[George Hollanden]

Yes, it is, it must be, he said. But then I'd rather just lie here.

[Billy Hawker]

The girl seemed aggrieved.

[Grace Van Hall]

Oh no, you wouldn't. You couldn't stop. It's dreadful to talk like that, isn't it? I always thought that painters were of

[George Hollanden]

course they should be. Maybe they are. I don't know. Sometimes I am. But not today.

[Grace Van Hall]

Well, I think you ought to be so much more contented than just ordinary people now.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

I?

[George Hollanden]

You.

[Billy Hawker]

He cried.

[George Hollanden]

You are not just ordinary people.

[Grace Van Hall]

Well, but when I try to recall what I have thought about in my life, I can't remember. You know, that's what I mean.

[George Hollanden]

You shouldn't talk that way, he told her.

[Grace Van Hall]

But why do you insist that life should be so highly absorbing for me?

[George Hollanden]

You have everything you wish for, he

[Billy Hawker]

answered in a voice of deep gloom.

[Grace Van Hall]

Certainly not. I am a woman.

[George Hollanden]

But a woman.

[Grace Van Hall]

To have everything she wishes for would have to be Providence. There are some things that are not in the world.

[George Hollanden]

Well, what are they?

[Billy Hawker]

He asked of her. That's just it, she said, nodding her head.

[Grace Van Hall]

No one knows. That's what makes the trouble.

[George Hollanden]

Well, you are very unreasonable.

[John Harker]

What?

[George Hollanden]

You are very unreasonable. If I were you, an heiress.

[Billy Hawker]

The girl flushed and turned upon him angrily. Well, he glowered back at her.

[George Hollanden]

You are, you know. You can't deny it.

[Billy Hawker]

She looked at the red stained crags.

[Grace Van Hall]

At last she said, you seem really contemptuous.

[George Hollanden]

Well, I assure you that I do not feel contemptuous. On the contrary, I am filled with admiration. Thank heaven I am a man of the world. Whenever I meet heiresses, I always have the deepest admiration.

[Billy Hawker]

As he said this, he wore a brave hang dog expression. The girl surveyed him coldly from his chin to his eyebrows.

[George Hollanden]

You have a handsome audacity, too.

[Billy Hawker]

He lay back in the long grass and contemplated the clouds.

[Grace Van Hall]

You should have been a Chinese soldier

[Billy Hawker]

of fortune, she said. He threw another little clod at Stanley and struck him on the head.

[Grace Van Hall]

You are the most scientifically unbearable person

[Billy Hawker]

in the world, she said. Stanley came back to see his master and to assure himself that the clump on the head was not intended as a sign of serious displeasure, Hawker took the dog's long ears and tried to tie them into a knot.

[Grace Van Hall]

And I don't see why you so delight in making people detest you, she continued.

[Billy Hawker]

Having failed to make a knot of the dog's ears, Hawker leaned back and surveyed his failure admiringly. Well, I don't, he said.

[Grace Van Hall]

You do.

[George Hollanden]

No, I don't.

[Grace Van Hall]

Yes, you do. You just say the most terrible things as if you positively enjoyed saying them.

[George Hollanden]

Well, what did I say now? What did I say?

[Grace Van Hall]

Why, you said that you always had the most extraordinary admiration for heiresses whenever you met them.

[George Hollanden]

Well, what's wrong with that sentiment?

[Billy Hawker]

He said.

[George Hollanden]

You can't find fault with that.

[Grace Van Hall]

It is utterly detestable.

[Billy Hawker]

Not at all, he answered sullenly.

[George Hollanden]

I consider it a tribute. A graceful tribute.

[Billy Hawker]

Ms. Fanhall arose and went forward to the edge of the cliff. She became absorbed in the falls far below her. A bough of hemlock drooped the water, and each swirling mad wave caught it and made it nod, nod, nod. Her back was half turned toward Hawker. After a time, Stanley the dog discovered some ants scurrying in the moss, and he at once began to watch them and wag his tail.

[George Hollanden]

Isn't it curious, observed Hawker, how an animal as large as a dog will sometimes be so entertained by the very smallest things?

[Billy Hawker]

Stanley pawed gently at the moss and then thrust his head forward to see what the ants did. Under the circumstances, Granger knows when you're

[Grainger Announcer]

a procurement manager for an office park, you're not managing one building, you're managing all of them. And to stay ahead, you need to see through walls and around corners, lights about to fail, filters ready to clog H Vac on its last leg. If you wait until something breaks, you're already behind. Count on Grainger for quality products, easy reordering, and 24. 7 support. Call 1-800-GRAINGER Click grainger.com or just stop by Grainger for the ones who get it done.

When you're a maintenance engineer in a beverage manufacturing plant, you keep production lines moving and quality are on track because there is no room for slowdowns. With Grainger's vast selection of high quality motors, sensors, belts and hard to find parts. You can get what you need fast and all in one place so nothing gets in the way of getting the job done. Call 1-800-GRAINGER clickranger.com or just stop by Grainger for the ones who get it done.

Grainger knows when you're a procurement manager for an office park, you're not managing one building, you're managing all of them. And to stay ahead, you need to see through walls and around corners. Lights about to fail, filters ready to clog H Vac on its last leg. If you wait until something breaks, you're already behind. Count on Grainger for quality products, easy reordering and 24. 7 support. Call 1-800-GRAINGER click grainger.com or just stop by Grainger for the ones who get it done.

[Billy Hawker]

In the hunting season, continued Hawker, having

[George Hollanden]

waited a moment, this dog knows nothing on earth but his master and the partridges. He is lost to all other sound and movement. He moves through the woods like a steel machine, and when he scents the bird, ah, it is beautiful. Shouldn't you like to see him then?

[Billy Hawker]

Some of the ants had perhaps made warlike motions, and Stanley was pretending that this was a reason for excitement. He reared aback and made grumbling noises in his throat. After another pause, Hawker went on and

[George Hollanden]

now see the precious old fool. He is deeply interested in the movements of the little ants, and as childish and ridiculous over them as if they were highly important. There, you old blockhead. Let them alone.

[Billy Hawker]

Stanley could not be induced to end his investigations, and he told his master that the ants were the most thrilling and dramatic animals of his experience. Oh, by the way, said Hawker at last, as his glance caught upon the crags across the river, did you ever

[George Hollanden]

hear the legend of those rocks yonder over there? Where I am pointing? Where I am pointing. Did you ever hear it?

[John Harker]

What?

[George Hollanden]

Yes. No. Well, I shall tell it to you.

[Billy Hawker]

He settled comfortably in the long grass. End of Chapter Six. Chapter 7 of the Thunder Third Violet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain.

[George Hollanden]

Chapter 7 Once Upon a time there was a beautiful Indian maiden, of course, and she was of course beloved by a youth from another tribe, who was very handsome and stalwart and a mighty hunter, of course. But the maiden's father was of course a stern old chief, and when the question of his daughter's marriage came up, he of course declared that the maiden should be wedded only to a warrior of her tribe. And of course, when the young man heard this he said that in such case he would of course fling himself headlong from that crag. The old chief was of course obdurate, and of course the youth did of course, as he had said, and of course the maiden wept.

[Billy Hawker]

After Hawker had waited for some time, he said with severity, you seem to

[George Hollanden]

have no great appreciation of folklore.

[Billy Hawker]

The girl suddenly bent her head. Listen, she said, they're calling.

[Grace Van Hall]

Don't you hear Holly's voice?

[Billy Hawker]

They went to another place, and looking over the shimmering treetops, they saw Hollanden waving his arms. It's luncheon, said Hawker.

[George Hollanden]

Look how frantic he is.

[Billy Hawker]

The path required that Hawker should assist the girl. Very often his eyes shone at her whenever he held forth his hand to help her down a blessed steep place. She seemed rather pensive. The route to luncheon was very long. Suddenly he took a seat on an old tree and said, oh, I don't

[George Hollanden]

know why it is whenever I'm with you, I have no wits nor good nature nor anything. It's the worst luck.

[Billy Hawker]

He had left her standing on a boulder where she was provisionally helpless. Hurry, she said.

[Grace Van Hall]

They're waiting for us.

[Billy Hawker]

Stanley the setter had been sliding down cautiously behind them. He now stood wagging his tail and waiting for the way to be cleared. Hawker leaned his head on his hand and pondered dejectedly.

[George Hollanden]

It's the worst luck.

[Billy Hawker]

Hurry, she said.

[Grace Van Hall]

They're waiting for us at luncheon.

[Billy Hawker]

The girl was, for the most part, silent. Hawker was superhumanly amiable. Somehow he gained the impression that they all quite fancied him, and it followed that being clever was very easy. Hollanden listened and approved him with a benign countenance. There was a little boat fastened to the willows at the edge of the black pool. After the spread, Hollanden navigated various parties around to where they could hear the great hollow roar of the falls beating against the sheer rocks. Stanley swam after Styx at the request of little Roger. Once Hollandon succeeded in making the others so engrossed in being amused that Hawker and Miss Fanhall were left alone, staring at the white bubbles that floated solemnly in the black water. After Hocker had stared at them a sufficient time, he said, well, you are

[George Hollanden]

an heiress, you know.

[Billy Hawker]

In return, she chose to smile radiantly. Turning toward him, she said, if you

[Grace Van Hall]

will be good now, always, perhaps I'll forgive you.

[Billy Hawker]

They drove home in the sombre shadows of the hills, with Stanley paddling along under the wagon. The Worcester girls tried to induce Hollandon to sing, and in consequence there was quarrelling until the blinking light of the inn appeared above them as if a great lantern hung there. Hollanden conveyed his friends some distance on the way home from the inn to the farm. Good time at the picnic, said the writer.

[Hollanden]

Yes, picnics are mainly places where the jam gets on the dead leaves and from thence to your trousers. But this was a good little picnic.

[Billy Hawker]

He glanced at Hocker.

[Hollanden]

But you don't look as if you had such a swell time.

[Billy Hawker]

Hawker waved his hand tragically.

[George Hollanden]

Yes. No.

[Hollanden]

I don't know what's wrong with you?

[Billy Hawker]

Asked Holland.

[George Hollanden]

I tell you what it is, Holly,

[Billy Hawker]

said the painter darkly.

[George Hollanden]

Whenever I'm with that girl, I'm such a blockhead. I'm not so stupid, Holly. You know I'm not. But when I'm with her, I can't be clever to save my life.

[Billy Hawker]

Hollandon pulled contentedly at his pipe.

[Hollanden]

Maybe she didn't notice it.

[George Hollanden]

Notice it?

[Billy Hawker]

Muttered Hawker scornfully.

[George Hollanden]

Of course she notices it. In conversation with her, I tell you, I'm as interesting as an iron dog.

[Billy Hawker]

His voice changed as he cried, I

[George Hollanden]

don't know why it is. I don't know why it is.

[Billy Hawker]

Blowing a huge cloud of smoke into the air. Hollanden studied it thoughtfully. It's some fellows that way, he said.

[Hollanden]

Of course, it must be deuced annoying. Strange thing. But now, under those circumstances, I'm very glib. Very glib, I assure you.

[Billy Hawker]

I don't care what you are, answered Hawker.

[George Hollanden]

All those confounded affairs of yours. They were not.

[Billy Hawker]

No, said Hollanden, stolidly, puffing.

[Hollanden]

Of course not. I understand that.

[Billy Hawker]

But look here, Billy, he added with sudden brightness, maybe you are not a blockhead after all.

[Hollanden]

You are on the inside, you know. You can't see from there. Besides, you can't tell what a woman will think. You can't tell what a woman will think.

[Billy Hawker]

No, said Hocker grimly.

[George Hollanden]

And you suppose that is my only chance?

[Hollanden]

Oh, don't be such a chump, said

[Billy Hawker]

Hollanden in a tone of vast exasperation. They strode for some time in silence. The mystic pine swaying over the narrow road made talk sibilantly to the wind. Stanley the Setter took it upon himself to discover some menacing presence in the woods. He walked on his toes, and with his eyes glinting sideways, he swore half under his breath. And work too, burst out Hocker at last.

[George Hollanden]

I came up here this season to work, and I haven't done a thing that ought not be shot at.

[Hollanden]

Don't you find that your love sets fire to your genius?

[Billy Hawker]

Asked Hollanden gravely.

[George Hollanden]

No, I'm hanged if I do.

[Billy Hawker]

Hollanden sighed. Then, with an air of relief.

[Hollanden]

I was afraid that a popular impression

[Billy Hawker]

was true, he said, but it's all right.

[Hollanden]

You'd rather sit still and moon, wouldn't you?

[George Hollanden]

Moon, blast you. I couldn't moon to save my life.

[Hollanden]

Well, I didn't mean moon exactly.

[Billy Hawker]

End of Chapter Seven. Chapter 8 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 8 the Blue Night of the lake was embroidered with black tree forms. Silver drops sprinkled from the lifted oars. Somewhere in the gloom of the shore there was a dog who from time to time raised his sad voice to the stars.

[Grace Van Hall]

But still the life of the studios began.

[Billy Hawker]

The girl, Hawker scoffed.

[George Hollanden]

There were six of us. Mainly we smoked. Sometimes we played harts and at other times poker. On credit, you know. Credit. And when we had the materials and got something to do, we worked. Did you ever see these beautiful red and green designs that surround the common tomato can?

[Grace Van Hall]

Yes.

[Billy Hawker]

Well, he said proudly, I have made them.

[George Hollanden]

Whenever you come upon tomatoes, remember that they might once have been encompassed in my design. When first I came back from Paris, I began to paint, but nobody wanted me to paint. Later I got into green corn and asparagus.

[Grace Van Hall]

Truly.

[George Hollanden]

Yes, indeed it is true.

[Grace Van Hall]

But still the life of the studios.

[George Hollanden]

There were six of us. Fate ordained that only one in the crowd could have money at one time. The other five lived off him and despised themselves. We despised ourselves five times as long as we had admiration.

[Grace Van Hall]

And was this just because you had no money?

[George Hollanden]

It was because we had no money

[Billy Hawker]

in New York, said Hawker.

[Grace Van Hall]

Well, after a while something happened.

[George Hollanden]

Oh no, it didn't. Something impended always, but it never happened.

[Grace Van Hall]

In a case like that, one's own people must be such a blessing. The sympathy.

[Billy Hawker]

One's own people, said Hawker. Yes, she said.

[Grace Van Hall]

One's own people and more intimate friends. The appreciation.

[George Hollanden]

The appreciation, said Hawker. Yes, indeed.

[Billy Hawker]

He seemed so ill tempered that she became silent. The boat floated through the shadows of the trees and out to where the water was like a blue crystal. The dog on the shore thrashed about in the reeds and waded in the shallows, mourning his unhappy state. In an occasional cry, Hawker stood up and sternly shouted. Thereafter silence was among the reeds. The moon slipped sharply through the little clouds.

[Grace Van Hall]

The girl said, I liked that last picture of yours.

[George Hollanden]

What?

[Grace Van Hall]

At the last exhibition, you know, you had that one with the cows and things in the snow and in the haystack.

[Billy Hawker]

Yes, he said.

[George Hollanden]

Of course. Did you like it really? I thought about my best. And you really remembered it.

[Billy Hawker]

Oh, he cried.

[George Hollanden]

Holland perhaps recalled it to you.

[Billy Hawker]

Why, no, she said.

[Grace Van Hall]

I remembered it of course.

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[George Hollanden]

Well, what made you remember it?

[Billy Hawker]

He demanded, as if he had cause to be indignant.

[Grace Van Hall]

Why, I just remembered it because I liked it and because, well, the people with me said. Said it was about the best thing in the exhibit and they talked about it a good deal. And then I remember that Holle had spoken of you, and then I. I

[George Hollanden]

Never mind, he said.

[Billy Hawker]

After a moment, he added, the confounded

[George Hollanden]

picture was no good anyhow.

[Billy Hawker]

The girl started.

[Grace Van Hall]

What makes you speak so of it? It was good, of course. I don't know. I can't talk about pictures.

[Billy Hawker]

But, she said in distress.

[Grace Van Hall]

Everybody said it was fine.

[George Hollanden]

It wasn't any good, he persisted with

[Billy Hawker]

dogged shakes of the head. From off in the darkness they heard the sound of Hollanden's oars splashing in the water. Sometimes there was a squealing by the Worcester girls, and at other times loud arguments on points of navigation. Oh, said the girl suddenly.

[Grace Van Hall]

Mr. Oglethorpe is coming tomorrow.

[George Hollanden]

Mr. Oglethorwe said hawker. Is he?

[Grace Van Hall]

Yes.

[Billy Hawker]

She gazed off at the water.

[Grace Van Hall]

He's an old friend of ours. He is always so good, and Roger and little Helen simply adore him. He was my brother's chum in college and they were quite inseparable until Herbert stood death. He always brings me violets, but I know you will like him.

[George Hollanden]

I shall expect two, said Hawker.

[Grace Van Hall]

I'm so glad he is coming. What time does that morning stage get here?

[Billy Hawker]

About 11, said Hawker.

[Grace Van Hall]

He wrote us that he would come. Then I hope he won't disappoint us.

[George Hollanden]

Undoubtedly he will be here, said Hawker.

[Billy Hawker]

The wind swept from the ridge top where some great bare pine stood in the moonlight. A loon called in its strange unearthly note from the lake shore. As Hawker turned the boat toward the dock, the flashing rays from the boat fell upon the head of the girl in the rear seat, and he rode very slowly. The girl was looking away somewhere with a mystic shining grace. She leaned her chin in her hand. Hawker, facing her, merely paddled subconsciously. He seemed greatly impressed and expectant. At last she spoke very slowly.

[Grace Van Hall]

I Wish I knew Mr. Oglethorpe was not going to disappoint us, Hocker said.

[George Hollanden]

Why, no, I imagine not.

[Grace Van Hall]

Well, he is a trifle uncertain in matters of time. The children and all of us shall be anxious. I know you will like him.

[Billy Hawker]

Chapter 9 of the Third Fillet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter nine.

[Hollanden]

Eh?

[Billy Hawker]

Said Hollanden.

[Hollanden]

Oglethorpe. Oglethorpe? Why, he's that friend of the fan halls. Yes, of course I know him. Just good fellow too. What about him?

[George Hollanden]

Oh, nothing. Only he's coming here to morrow, answered Hawker. What kind of a fellow did you say he was?

[Hollanden]

A deuce. Good fellow. What do you so say? By the nine mad blacksmiths of Donna Hero, he's your rival. Why, of course, glory. But I must be thick headed to night.

[Billy Hawker]

Hawker said, where's your tobacco?

[Hollanden]

Yonder in that jargot.

[Pennoyer]

A pipe?

[George Hollanden]

Yes. How do you know he's my rival?

[Hollanden]

Know it? Why, hasn't he been? Say, this is getting thrilling.

[Billy Hawker]

Hollanden sprang to his feet and filling a pipe, flung himself into the chair and began to rock himself madly to and fro. He puffed clouds of smoke. Hawker stood with his face in shadow. At last he said in tones of

[George Hollanden]

deep weariness, well, I think I'd better be going home and turning in.

[Hollanden]

Hold on.

[Billy Hawker]

Hollanden exclaimed, turning his eyes from a prolonged stare at the ceiling.

[Hollanden]

Don't go yet. Why, man, this is Just the time when. Say, who would ever think of Jim Oglethorpe's turning up to Harry you just at this time, too.

[George Hollanden]

Oh.

[Billy Hawker]

Cried Hocker, suddenly filled with rage.

[George Hollanden]

You remind me of an accursed duffer. Why can't you tell me something about the man instead of sitting there and gibbering those crazy things at the ceiling? By the piper. Oh, shut up. Tell me something about Oglethorpe, can't you? I want to hear about him. Quit all that other business.

[Hollanden]

Why, Jim Oglethorpe, he. Why, say, he's one of the best fellows going. If he were only an assif. He were only an ass. Now you could feel easy in your mind. But he isn't. No, indeed. Why, blast him. There isn't a man that knows him who doesn't like Jem Oglethorpe. Excepting the chumps.

[Billy Hawker]

The window of the little room was open, and the voices of the pines could be heard as they sang of their long sorrow. Hawker pulled a chair close and stared out into the darkness. The people on the porch of the inn were frequently calling. Good night. Good night, Hawker said.

[George Hollanden]

And of course he's got trainloads of money.

[Hollanden]

You bet he has. He can pave streets with it. Lordy, but this is a situation.

[Billy Hawker]

A heavy scowl settled upon Hawker's brow, and he kicked at the dressing case.

[George Hollanden]

Say, Holly, look here. Sometimes I think you regard me as a bug and like to see me wriggle, but.

[Billy Hawker]

Oh, don't be a fool, said Hollanden, glaring through the smoke.

[Hollanden]

Under the circumstances, you are privileged to rave and ramp around like a wounded lunatic. But for heaven's sake, don't swoop down on me like that. Especially when I'm. When I'm doing all I can for you.

[George Hollanden]

Doing all you can for me? Nobody asked you to. You talk as if I were an infant.

[Hollanden]

There. That's right. Blaze up like a fire balloon. Just because I said that, will you? A man in your condition. Why, confound you. You are an infant.

[Billy Hawker]

Hawker seemed again overwhelmed in a great dislike of himself.

[George Hollanden]

Oh, well, of course, Holly, it.

[Billy Hawker]

He waved his hand, a man feels like.

[George Hollanden]

Like.

[Billy Hawker]

Certainly he does, said Holland.

[Hollanden]

That's all right, old man.

[George Hollanden]

And look now, Holly, here's this Oglethorpe.

[Hollanden]

May the devil fly away with him.

[George Hollanden]

Well, here he is coming along when I thought maybe after a while, you know, I might stand some show. And you are acquainted with him, so give me a line on him. Well, I should advise you, blow your advice. I want to hear about Oglethorpe.

[Hollanden]

Well, in the first place, he's a Rattly good fellow, as I told you before, and this is what makes it so.

[George Hollanden]

Oh, hang what it makes it.

[Hollanden]

Go on. He's a rattling good fellow and he has stacks of money. Of course, in this case, his having money doesn't affect the situation much, Ms. Fantor.

[George Hollanden]

Say, can you keep the thread of the story, you infernal literary man?

[Hollanden]

Well, he's popular. He don't talk money, ever. And if he's wicked, he's not sufficiently proud of it to be perpetually describing his sins. And that he's not so hideously brilliant either. That's a great credit to a man in these days. And then he. Well, take it altogether, I should say. Jem Oglethorpe was a smashing good fellow.

[George Hollanden]

I wonder how long he is going

[Billy Hawker]

to stay, murmured Hawker. During this conversation his pipe had often died out. It was out at this time he lit another match. Hollanden had watched the fingers of his friend as the match was scratched.

[Hollanden]

You're nervous, Billy, he said.

[Billy Hawker]

Hawker straightened in his chair.

[George Hollanden]

No, I'm not.

[Hollanden]

I saw your fingers tremble when you lit that match.

[Billy Hawker]

Oh, you lie, Harland mused again. He's popular with women, too, he said. Ultimately and often, a woman will like

[Hollanden]

a man and hunt a scalp just because she knows other women like him and want his scalp.

[George Hollanden]

Yes, but not.

[Hollanden]

Hold on. You were going to say that she was not like other women, weren't you?

[George Hollanden]

Not exactly that, but we will have all that understood.

[Billy Hawker]

After a period of silence, Hawker said,

[George Hollanden]

I must be going.

[Billy Hawker]

As the painter walked toward the door, Hollanden cried to him, heavens of all

[Hollanden]

pictures of a weary pilgrim.

[Billy Hawker]

His voice was very compassionate. Hawker wheeled, and an oath spun through the smoke clouds. End of Chapter Nine. Chapter 10 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 10 Where's Mr. Harker this morning? Asked the younger Miss Wister. I thought he was coming to play tennis.

[Hollanden]

I don't know. Confound him. I don't see why he didn't come,

[Billy Hawker]

said Hollanden, looking across the shining valley. He frowned questioningly at the landscape.

[Hollanden]

I wonder where in the mischief he is.

[Billy Hawker]

The Worcester girls began also to stare at the great gleaming stretch of green and gold. Didn't he tell you he was coming? They demanded. He didn't say a word about it, answered Holland.

[Hollanden]

I supposed, of course, he was coming. We will have to postpone the melee.

[Billy Hawker]

Later he met Miss Fanhall.

[Hollanden]

You look as if you were going for a walk.

[Billy Hawker]

I am, she said, swinging her parasol

[Grace Van Hall]

to meet the stage. Have you seen Mr. Hawker today?

[Billy Hawker]

No, he said he is not coming up this morning.

[Hollanden]

He's in a great fret about that field of stubble. And I suppose he is down there sketching the life out of it. These artists, they take such a fiendish interest in their work. My dear said we won't see much of him till he has finished it. Where did you say you were going

[Grace Van Hall]

to walk to meet the stage?

[Hollanden]

Well, I won't have to pay tennis for an hour and if you insist, of course.

[Billy Hawker]

As they strolled slowly in the shade of the trees, Hollanden began, isn't that

[Hollanden]

Hawker an ill bred old thing?

[Grace Van Hall]

No, he is not.

[Billy Hawker]

Then after a time she why?

[Hollanden]

Oh, he gets so absorbed in a beastly smudge of paint that I really suppose he cares nothing for anything else in the world. Men who are really artists, I don't believe they are capable of deep human affections. So much of them is occupied by art. There's not much left over, you see.

[Grace Van Hall]

I don't believe it at all.

[Billy Hawker]

She exclaimed.

[Hollanden]

You don't, eh?

[Billy Hawker]

Cried Hollanden scornfully.

[Hollanden]

Well, let me tell you, young woman, there is a great deal of truth in it. Now there's Hawker. As good a fellow as ever lived too, in a way. And yet he's an artist. Why, look how he treats me. Look how he treats that poor setter dog.

[Grace Van Hall]

Why, he's as kind to him as

[Billy Hawker]

he can be, she declared.

[Hollanden]

And I tell you he is not,

[Billy Hawker]

cried Hollandon, he is.

[Grace Van Hall]

Holly, you. You are unspeakable when you get in these moods.

[Hollanden]

Yes, that's just you and an argument. I'm not in a mood at all. Now, look, the dog loves him with simple, unquestioning devotion that fairly brings tears to one's eyes.

[Billy Hawker]

Yes, she said.

[Hollanden]

And he. Why, he's as cold and stern.

[Grace Van Hall]

He isn't. He isn't. Holly, you are awfully unfair.

[Hollanden]

No, I'm not. I'm simply a liberal observer. And Hawker with his people too.

[Billy Hawker]

He went on darkly.

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[Billy Hawker]

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[Billy Hawker]

That would be crazy, right? Art Palpitations has more. That would be crazy, Tammy. But you got surprisingly affordable renters insurance through Geico, so it could be covered,

[Hollanden]

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[Billy Hawker]

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[Hollanden]

You can't tell. You don't know anything about it. But I tell you that what I have seen proves my assertion that the artistic mind has no space left left for the human affections. And as for the dog.

[Grace Van Hall]

I thought you were his friend, Holly.

[Hollanden]

Whose?

[Grace Van Hall]

No, not the dogs. And yet you. Really, Holly, there's something unnatural in you. You are so stupidly keen in looking at people that you do not possess common loyalty to your friends. It is because you are a writer, I suppose that has to explain so many things. Some of your traits are very disagreeable.

[Billy Hawker]

There, plaintively cried Hollanden.

[Hollanden]

This is only about the treatment of a dog, mind you. Goodness, what an oration.

[Grace Van Hall]

It wasn't about the treatment of a dog. It was about your treatment of your friends.

[Billy Hawker]

Well, he said sagely, it only goes

[Hollanden]

to show that there is nothing impersonal in the mind of a woman I undertook to discuss broadly.

[Grace Van Hall]

Oh, Holly.

[Hollanden]

At any rate, it was rather below you to do such scoffing at me.

[Grace Van Hall]

Well, I didn't mean. Not all of it, Holly.

[Hollanden]

Well, I didn't mean what I said about the dog and all that either.

[Grace Van Hall]

You didn't?

[Billy Hawker]

She turned toward him, large eyed.

[Hollanden]

No, not a single word of it.

[Grace Van Hall]

Well, what did you say it for then?

[Billy Hawker]

She demanded indignantly. I said it, answered Hollanden placidly, just to tease you. He looked abstractedly up to the trees. Presently she said slowly, just to tease me. At this time Hollanden wore an unmistakable air of having A desire to turn up his coat collar. Come now, he began nervously. George Hollandon, said the voice at his

[Grace Van Hall]

shoulder, you are not only disagreeable, but you are hopelessly ridiculous. II wish you would never speak to me again.

[Hollanden]

Come now, Grace. Don't.

[Wrinkles]

Don't.

[Hollanden]

Look. There's the stage coming, isn't it?

[Grace Van Hall]

No, the stage is not coming. I wishi wish you were at the bottom of the sea, George Hollanden. And. And Mr. Hawker, too. There.

[Hollanden]

Oh, bless my soul. And all about an infernal dog.

[Billy Hawker]

Wailed Hollanden.

[Hollanden]

Look honest now. There's the stage. See it See?

[Grace Van Hall]

Isn't there at all, she said.

[Billy Hawker]

Gradually he seemed to recover his courage.

[Hollanden]

What made you so tremendously angry? I don't see why.

[Billy Hawker]

After consideration, she said decisively.

[Grace Van Hall]

Well, because.

[Billy Hawker]

That's why I teased you, he rejoined.

[Grace Van Hall]

Well, because. Because.

[Billy Hawker]

Go on, he told her finally, you

[Hollanden]

are doing very well.

[Billy Hawker]

He waited patiently.

[Grace Van Hall]

Well, she said, it is dreadful to defend somebody so. So excitedly and then have it turned out just a tease. I don't know what he would think.

[Hollanden]

Who would think?

[Grace Van Hall]

Why, he.

[Hollanden]

What could he think now? What could he think?

[Billy Hawker]

Why, Said Hollanden, waxing eloquent, he couldn't

[Hollanden]

under any circumstances think. Think anything at all now, could he?

[Billy Hawker]

She made no reply. Could he? She was apparently reflecting.

[Hollanden]

Under any circumstances?

[Billy Hawker]

Persisted Hollanden.

[Hollanden]

He couldn't think anything at all now. Caughty.

[Billy Hawker]

No, she said.

[Hollanden]

Well, why are you angry at me, then?

[Billy Hawker]

End of chapter 10. Chapter 11 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 11 John, said the old mother from the profound mufflings of the pillow and quilts.

[John Harker]

What?

[Billy Hawker]

Said the old man. He was tugging at his right boot, and his tone was very irascible.

[Mother Hawker]

I think William's changed a good deal.

[John Harker]

Well, what if he has?

[Billy Hawker]

Replied the father, in another burst of ill temper. He was then tugging at his left boot.

[Mother Hawker]

Yes, I'm afraid he's changed a good

[Billy Hawker]

deal, said the muffled voice from the bed.

[Mother Hawker]

He's got a good many fine friends now, John folks what put on a good many airs, and he don't care for his home like he did.

[John Harker]

Oh, well, I don't guess he's changed

[Billy Hawker]

very much, said the old man cheerfully. He was now free of both boots. She raised herself on an elbow and looked out with a troubled face.

[Mother Hawker]

John, I think he likes that girl.

[John Harker]

What girl?

[Billy Hawker]

Said he.

[Mother Hawker]

What girl? Why, that awful handsome girl you see around, of course.

[John Harker]

Do you think he likes her?

[Mother Hawker]

I'm afraid so.

[Billy Hawker]

I'm afraid so, murmured the mother. Mournfully Ah, well, said the old man, without alarm or grief or pleasure in his tone. He turned the lamp's wick very low and carried the lamp to the head of the stairs where he perched it on the step. When he returned, he said, she's mighty good looking. Well, that ain't everything, she snapped.

[Mother Hawker]

How do we know she ain't proud and selfish and everything?

[John Harker]

How do you know she is?

[Billy Hawker]

Returned the old man, and she may

[Mother Hawker]

just be leading him on.

[Billy Hawker]

Do him good then, said he with impregnable serenity.

[John Harker]

Next time he'll know better.

[Billy Hawker]

Well, I'm worried about it, she said as she sank back on the pillow again.

[Mother Hawker]

I think William's changed a good deal. He don't seem to care about us like he did.

[Billy Hawker]

Oh, go to sleep, said the father drowsily. She was silent for a time, and then she said, john, what do you

[Mother Hawker]

think I'd better speak to him about that girl.

[John Harker]

No.

[Billy Hawker]

She grew silent again, but at last she demanded, why not?

[John Harker]

Cause it's none of your business. Go to sleep, will you?

[Billy Hawker]

And presently he did. But the old mother lay blinking wild eyed into the darkness. In the morning, Hawker did not appear at the early breakfast eaten when the blue glow of dawn shed its ghostly lights upon the valley. The old mother placed various dishes on the back part of the stove. At 10 o' clock he came downstairs. His mother was sweeping busily in the parlor at the time, but she saw him and ran to the back part of the stove. She slid the various dishes onto the table.

[Mother Hawker]

Did you oversleep?

[Billy Hawker]

She asked.

[George Hollanden]

Yes, I didn't feel very well this morning, he said.

[Billy Hawker]

He pulled his chair close to the table and sat there staring. She renewed her sweeping in the parlour. When she returned, he sat still, staring undeviatingly at nothing.

[Mother Hawker]

Why don't you eat your breakfast?

[Billy Hawker]

She said anxiously.

[George Hollanden]

I tell you, Mother, I don't feel

[Billy Hawker]

very well this morning, he answered quite sharply. Well, she said meekly, drink some coffee

[Mother Hawker]

and you'll feel better.

[Billy Hawker]

Afterward he took his painting machinery and left the house. His younger sister was at the well. She looked at him with a little smile, smile and a little sneer.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

Going up to the inn this morning?

[Billy Hawker]

She said.

[George Hollanden]

I don't see how that concerns you,

[Billy Hawker]

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[Katie Duke]

Hi Hi, I'm Katie Duke and I've been a nurse for over 20 years. Listen, I used to think that I was my most stylish in my 20s, but honestly, style and confidence only get better with age. And that is why I love figs. These scrubs are beautiful, comfortable and they are built to last. They're not those boxy, scratchy uniforms that we all started out in. No, no, no. These fit perfectly, they feel amazing and the quality is just wow. My favorite color? Burgundy. It's chic, it's timeless, and it's even the same color as my apartment because I'm kind of obsessed with it. And I love adding custom embroidery to make my scrubs as personal as my style. And since I work in telehealth, my embroidered figs even double as my ID badge. It's never too late to reinvent yourself or your scrubs. Get 15% off your first order at wearfigs.com with the code FIGSRX. That's wherefigs.com, code FIGSRX for 15% off your first order.

[George Hollanden]

But since you are so interested, I don't mind telling you that I'm not going up to the inn this morning.

[Billy Hawker]

His sister fixed him with her eye.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

She ain't mad at you, is she? Will?

[George Hollanden]

I don't know what you mean, Mary?

[Billy Hawker]

He glared hatefully at her and strode away. Stanley saw him going through the fields and leaped a fence jubilantly in pursuit in a wood. The light sifted through the foliage and burned with a peculiar reddish lustre on the masses of dead leaves. He frowned at it for a while from different points. Presently he erected his easel and began to paint. After a time he threw down his brush and swore. Stanley, who had been solemnly staring at the scene as if he too was sketching it looked up in surprise and wandering aimlessly through the fields and the forest Hawker once found himself near the road to Hemlock Inn. He shied away from it quickly, as if it were a great snake. While most of the family were at supper, Mary, the younger sister, came charging breathlessly into the kitchen.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

Ma sister.

[Billy Hawker]

She cried.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

I know why. Why Will didn't go to the inn today. There's another fellow come. Another fellow?

[John Harker]

Who?

[Florinda O'Connor]

Where?

[Mother Hawker]

What do you mean?

[Billy Hawker]

Exclaimed her mother and her sister.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

Why, another fellow up at the inn.

[Billy Hawker]

She shouted, triumphant in her information.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

Another fellow come up on the stage this morning and she went out driving with him this afternoon.

[Grainger Announcer]

Well.

[Billy Hawker]

Exclaimed her mother and her sister.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

Yep, and he's an awful good looking fellow, too. And she, oh my, she looked as if she thought the world and all of him well.

[Billy Hawker]

Exclaimed her mother and her sister again.

[John Harker]

Sure.

[Billy Hawker]

Said the old man.

[John Harker]

You women leave William alone and quit your gabblin.

[Billy Hawker]

The three women made a combined assault upon him. Well, we ain't hurting him, are we, Pa?

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

You needn't be so snifty.

[Mother Hawker]

I guess we ain't a hurtin him much.

[John Harker]

Well.

[Billy Hawker]

Said the old man, and to his argument he added, shoo. They kept him out of the subsequent consultations. End of chapter 11. Chapter 12 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 12 the next day, as Little Roger was going toward the tennis court, a large orange and white setter ran effusively from around the corner of the inn and greeted him. Miss Fanhall, the Worcester girls, Hollandon and Oglethorpe, faced to the front like soldiers. Hollanden cried, why, Billy Hawker must be coming. Hawker at that moment appeared, coming toward them with a smile which was not over confident. Little Roger went off to perform some festivities of his own on the brown carpet under a clump of pines. The dog, to join him, felt obliged to circle widely about the tennis court. He was much afraid of this tennis court, with its tiny round things that sometimes hit him when near it. He usually slunk along at a little sheep trot, and with an eye of wariness upon it. At her first opportunity, the younger Worcester girl said, you didn't come up yesterday, Mr. Hawker. Hollanden seemed to think that Ms. Fanhall turned her head as if she wished to hear the explanation of the painter's absence, so he engaged her in swift and fierce conversation.

[George Hollanden]

No, said Hawker, I was resolved to finish a sketch of a stubble field, which I began a good many days ago. You see, I was going to do such a great lot of work this summer, and I have done hardly a thing. I really ought to compel myself to do some, you know.

[Billy Hawker]

There, said Holland with a victorious nod.

[Hollanden]

Just what I told you.

[Billy Hawker]

You didn't tell us anything of the kind, retorted the Worcester girls with one voice. A middle aged woman came upon the porch of the inn, and after scanning for a moment the group at the tennis court, she hurriedly withdrew. Presently she appeared again, accompanied by five more middle aged women. You see, she said to the others,

[Hollanden]

it is as I said, he has come back.

[Billy Hawker]

The five surveyed the group at the tennis court and then said, so he has. I knew he would.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

Well, I declare, did you ever.

[Billy Hawker]

The voices were pitched at low keys and they moved with care, but their smiles were broad and full of a strange glee. I wonder how he feels, said one in subtle ecstasy. Another laughed. You know how you would feel, my dear, if you were him and saw yourself suddenly cut out by a man who was so hopelessly superior to you. Why, Oglethorpe's a thousand times better looking. And then think of his wealth and social position. One whispered dramatically.

[Grace Van Hall]

They say he never came up here at all yesterday.

[Billy Hawker]

Another replied.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

No more, he did. That's what we've been talking about. Stayed down at the farm all day, poor fellow.

[Grainger Announcer]

Do you really think she cares for Oglethorpe?

[Billy Hawker]

Care for him? Why, of course she does. Why, when they came up the path yesterday morning, I never saw a girl's face so bright. I asked my husband how much of the Chambers street bank stock Oglethorpe owned, and he said that if Oglethorpe took his money out, there wouldn't be enough left to buy a pie. The youngest woman in the corps said, well, I don't care. I think it is too bad. I don't see anything so much in that, Mr. Oglethorpe. The others at once patronized her. Oh, you don't, my dear.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

Well, let me tell you, that bank stock waves in the air like a banner.

[Billy Hawker]

You would see it if you were her. Well, she don't have to care for his money. Oh, no, of course you don't have to. But they are just the ones that do, my dear. They are just the ones that do. Well, it's a shame. Shame? Oh, of course it's a shame. The woman who had assembled the core said to one at her side.

[Hollanden]

Oh, the commonest kind of people, my dear. The commonest kind. The father is a regular farmer, you know. He drives oxen. Such language. You can really hear him mass away bellowing at those oxen and the girls are shunned. I have wild things. Oh, you have no idea. I saw one of them yesterday when we were out driving. She touched as we came along, for I suppose she was ashamed of her frog, poor child. And the mother, well, I wish you could see her, a little old dried up thing. We saw her carrying a pail of water from the well and oh, she bent and staggered dreadfully, poor thing.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

And the gate to their front yard, it has a broken hinge, you know. Of course that's an awful bad sign when people let their front gate hang on one hinge. You know what that means?

[Billy Hawker]

After gazing again at the group at the court, the the youngest member of the corps said, well, he's a good tennis player anyhow.

[Grainger Announcer]

When you're a maintenance engineer in a beverage manufacturing plant, you keep production lines moving and quality on track because there is no room for slowdowns. With Grainger's vast selection of high quality motors, sensors, belts and hard to find parts, you can get what you need fast and all in one place. So nothing gets in the way of getting the job done. Call 1-800-GRAINGER clickranger.com or just stop by Granger for the ones who get it done.

[Katie Duke]

Hi, I'm Katie Duke and I've been a nurse for over 20 years. Listen, I used to think that I was my most stylish in my 20s, but honestly, style and confidence only get better with age. And that is why I love figs. These scrubs are beautiful, comfortable and they are built to last. They're not those boxy scratchy uniforms that we all started out in. No, no, no, these fit perfectly, they feel amazing and the quality is just wow. My favorite color? Burgundy. It's chic, it's timeless, and it's even the same color as my apartment because I'm kind of obsessed with it. And I love adding custom embroidery to make my scrubs as personal as my style. And since I work in telehealth, my embroidered figs even double as my ID badge. It's never too late to reinvent yourself or your scrubs. Get 15% off your first order at wearfigs.com with the code FIGSRX. That's wherefigs.com code figsrx for 15% off

[Billy Hawker]

your first order meet Keith Loving dad,

[George Hollanden]

board game champ, bus driving pro.

[Billy Hawker]

I drive 65,000 miles in my bus each year. If people knew what I know, lives could be saved. Like how while there are some things I simply can't see on my route

[George Hollanden]

the other day A car tried to

[Billy Hawker]

sneak past me and ends up right

[George Hollanden]

in my blind spot.

[Billy Hawker]

I turn slowly so accident avoided.

[George Hollanden]

But no car should be in the blind spot for a 40,000 pound bus.

[Billy Hawker]

It's our roads. It's our safety. Visit www.sharetheroadsafely.gov the others smiled indulgently.

[Hollanden]

Oh yes, my dear, he is a good tennis player.

[Billy Hawker]

End of chapter 12. Chapter 13 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 13 one day, Hollanden said in greeting to Hawker, well, he's gone.

[George Hollanden]

Who?

[Billy Hawker]

Asked Hawker.

[Hollanden]

By Oglethorpe, of course. Who did you think I meant?

[George Hollanden]

How did I know?

[Billy Hawker]

Said Hocker angrily. Well, retorted Hollanden, your chief interest was

[Hollanden]

in his movements, I thought.

[George Hollanden]

Why, of course not. Hang you. Why should I be interested in his movements?

[Hollanden]

Well, you won't then. Does that suit you?

[Billy Hawker]

After a period of silence, Hawker asked,

[George Hollanden]

what did he what made him go?

[Hollanden]

Who?

[George Hollanden]

Why Oglethorpe?

[Hollanden]

How was I to know you meant him? Well, he went back because of some important business affairs in New York. Demanded it, he said, but he's coming back again in a week. They had rather a late interview on the porch last evening.

[Billy Hawker]

Indeed, said Hawker stiffly.

[Hollanden]

Yes, and he went away this morning looking particularly elated. Aren't you glad?

[George Hollanden]

I don't see how it concerns me,

[Billy Hawker]

said Hawker with still greater stiffness. In a walk to the lake that afternoon, Hawker and Ms. Vanhall found themselves side by side and silent. The girl contemplated the distant purple hills as if Hawker were not at her side, and silent. Hawker frowned at the roadway. Stanley the Setter scouted the fields in a genial gallop. At last the girl turned to him. Seems to me, she said.

[Grace Van Hall]

Seems to me you are dreadfully quiet this afternoon.

[George Hollanden]

I'm thinking about my wretched field of stories.

[Billy Hawker]

Double, he answered, still frowning. Her parasol swung about until the girl was looking up at his inscrutable profile.

[Grace Van Hall]

Is it then so important that you haven't time to talk to me?

[Billy Hawker]

She asked with an air of what might have been timidity. A smile swept the sky scowl from his face. No, indeed, he said instantly.

[George Hollanden]

Nothing is so important as that.

[Billy Hawker]

She seemed aggrieved. Then. H'm, you didn't look so, she told him.

[George Hollanden]

Well, I didn't mean to look any

[Billy Hawker]

other way, he said contritely.

[George Hollanden]

You know what a bear I am sometimes. Hollanden says it is a fixed scowl from trying to see uproarious pinks, yellows,

[Billy Hawker]

and blues, a little brook, a brawling ruffianly Little Brook swaggered from side to side down the glade, swirling in white leaps over the great dark rocks and shouting challenge to the hillsides. Hollanden and the Wurster girls had halted in a place of ferns and wet moss. Their voices could be heard quarrelling above the clamor of the stream. Stanley the setter had sousled himself in a pool and then gone and rolled in the dust of the road. He blissfully lolled there with his coat now resembling an old doormat.

[Grace Van Hall]

Don't you think Jem is a wonderfully good fellow?

[Billy Hawker]

Said the girl to the painter.

[George Hollanden]

Why, yes, of course, said Hawker.

[Billy Hawker]

Well, he is, she retorted, suddenly defensive. Of course, he repeated loudly. She said, well, I don't think you

[Grace Van Hall]

like him as well as I like him.

[Billy Hawker]

Certainly not, said Hawker.

[Grace Van Hall]

You don't.

[Billy Hawker]

She looked at him in a kind of astonishment. Certainly not, said Hawker again, and very irritably.

[George Hollanden]

How in the wide world do you expect me to like him as well as you like him?

[Grace Van Hall]

I don't mean as well, she explained.

[Billy Hawker]

Oh, said Hawker.

[Grace Van Hall]

But I mean you don't like him the way I do at all. The way I expected you to like him, I thought. Men of a certain pattern always fancied their kind of men wherever they met them, don't you know. And I was so sure you and Jem would be friends.

[Hollanden]

Oh.

[Billy Hawker]

Cried Hawker.

[George Hollanden]

Presently he added, but he isn't my kind of a man at all.

[Grace Van Hall]

He is. Jem is one of the best fellows in the world.

[Billy Hawker]

Again. Hawker cried.

[George Hollanden]

Oh.

[Billy Hawker]

They paused and looked down at the brook. Stanley sprawled panting in the dust and watched them. Hawker leaned against a hemlock. He sighed and frowned and then finally coughed with great resolution.

[George Hollanden]

I suppose, of course, that I am unjust to him. I care for you myself, you understand. And so it becomes.

[Billy Hawker]

He paused for a moment because he heard a rustling of her skirts, as if she had moved suddenly. Then he continued, and so it becomes

[George Hollanden]

difficult for me to be fair to him. I am not able to see him with a true eye.

[Billy Hawker]

He bitterly addressed the trees on the opposite side of the glen.

[George Hollanden]

Oh, I care for you. Of course. You might have expected it.

[Billy Hawker]

He turned from the trees and strode toward the roadway. The uninformed and disreputable Stanley arose and wagged his tail as if the girl had cried out at a calamity.

[George Hollanden]

Hawker said again, well, you might have expected it.

[Billy Hawker]

End of chapter 13. Chapter 14 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 14 at the Lake Hollanden went pickerel fishing, lost his hook, hook in a gaunt gray stump, and earned much distinction by his skill in discovering words to express his emotion without resorting to the list usually used in such cases. The younger Miss Wooster ruined a new pair of boots, and Stanley sat on the bank and howled the song of the forsaken. At the conclusion of the festivities, Holland

[Hollanden]

said, billy, you ought to take the boat back.

[George Hollanden]

Why had I? You borrowed it.

[Hollanden]

Well, I borrowed it, and it was a lot of trouble, and now you

[Billy Hawker]

ought to take it back ultimately. Hawker said, oh, let's both go on this journey. Hawker made a long speech, speech to his friend, and at the end of it he exclaimed, and now do you

[George Hollanden]

think she cares so much for Oglethorpe? Why, she's as good as told me that he was only a very great friend.

[Billy Hawker]

Hollanden wagged his head dubiously.

[Hollanden]

What a woman says doesn't amount to shucks. It's the way she says it. That's what counts.

[Billy Hawker]

Besides, he cried in a brilliant afterthought,

[Hollanden]

she wouldn't tell you anyhow, you fool.

[Billy Hawker]

You're an encouraging brute, said Hawker with a rueful grin. Later the Worcester girls seized upon Hollandon and piled him high with ferns and mosses. They dragged the long gray lichens from the chins of venerable pine times and ran with them to Hollanden and dashed them into his arms. Oh, hurry up, holly. They cried, because with his great load he frequently fell behind them in the march. He once positively refused to carry these things another step some distance far farther on the road. He positively refused to carry this old truck another step. When almost to the end, he positively refused to carry this senseless rubbish another step. The Worcester girls had such vivid contempt for his expressed unwillingness that they neglected to tell him of any appreciation they might have had had for his noble struggle. As Hawker and Miss Van hall proceeded slowly, they heard a voice ringing through the foliage.

[Pennoyer]

Whoa.

[John Harker]

Haw. Git up, blast you. Haw.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Haw.

[John Harker]

Drat your hides, will you? Haw.

[Billy Hawker]

Get up.

[John Harker]

Gee.

[Katie Duke]

Whoa.

[Billy Hawker]

Hawker said.

[George Hollanden]

The others are a good ways ahead. Hadn't we better hurry a little?

[Billy Hawker]

The girl obediently mended her pace.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

Whoa.

[Grace Van Hall]

Ha.

[John Harker]

Get ap.

[Billy Hawker]

Shouted the voice in the distance.

[John Harker]

Get over there, Red. Get over. Gee. Get up.

[Billy Hawker]

And these cries pursued, pursued the man and the maid. At last Hacker said, that's my father.

[Grace Van Hall]

Where?

[Billy Hawker]

She asked, looking bewildered.

[George Hollanden]

Back there, driving those oxen, the voice shouted.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Whoa.

[John Harker]

Giddap. Gee, Red, get over there now, will you? I'll trim the shin off of you in a minute. Whoa.

[Billy Hawker]

Ha ha.

[George Hollanden]

Whoa.

[John Harker]

Get up.

[Billy Hawker]

Haka repeated.

[George Hollanden]

Yes, that's my father.

[Grace Van Hall]

Oh, is it?

[Billy Hawker]

She said.

[Grace Van Hall]

Let's wait for him.

[Billy Hawker]

All right, said Hawker sullenly. Presently a team of oxen waddled into view around the curve of the road. They swung their heads slowly from side to side, bent under the yoke, and looked out at the world with their great eyes, in which was a mystic note of their humble, submissive, toilsome lives. An old wagon creaked after them, and erect upon it was the tall and tattered figure of the farmer, swinging his whip and yelling, Whoa.

[John Harker]

Ah, there. Giddap.

[Billy Hawker]

The lash flicked and flew over the broad backs of the animals. Hello, Father, said Hawker.

[Grainger Announcer]

Whoa.

[Wrinkles]

Back.

[John Harker]

Whoa. Why, hello, William. What is you doing here?

[George Hollanden]

Oh, just taking a walk. Ms. Fanhall. This is my father. Father.

[John Harker]

How d' ye do?

[Billy Hawker]

The old man balanced himself with care and then raised his straw hat from his head with a quick gesture, and with what was perhaps a slightly apologetic air, as if he feared that he was rather overdoing the ceremonial part. The girl later became very intent upon the oxen.

[Grace Van Hall]

Aren't they nice old things?

[Billy Hawker]

She said as she stood looking into the faces of the team.

[Grace Van Hall]

But what makes their eyes so very sad?

[Billy Hawker]

I dunno, said the old man. She was apparently unable to resist a desire to pat the nose of the nearest ox, and for that purpose she stretched forth a cautious hand. But the ox moved restlessly at the moment, and the girl put her hand apprehensively behind herself and backed away. The old man on the wagon grinned.

[John Harker]

They won't hurt you, he told her.

[Grace Van Hall]

They won't fight, will they?

[Billy Hawker]

She asked, casting a glance of inquiry at the old man and then turning her eyes again upon the fascinating animals. No, said the old man, still grinning.

[John Harker]

Just as gentle as kittens.

[Billy Hawker]

She approached them circuitously. Sure, she said. Sure, replied the old man. He climbed from the wagon and came to the heads of the oxen. With him as an ally, she finally succeeded in patting the nose of the nearest ox.

[Grace Van Hall]

Aren't they solemn, kind old fellows? Don't you get to think a great deal of them?

[John Harker]

Well, they're kinder, aggravatin beasts sometimes, he said. But they're a good yoke. A good yoke. They can haul with anything in this region.

[Grace Van Hall]

It doesn't make them so terribly tired, does it?

[Billy Hawker]

She said hopefully.

[Grace Van Hall]

They are such strong animals.

[Billy Hawker]

No, he said.

[John Harker]

I don't know. I never thought much about it.

[Billy Hawker]

With their heads close together, and they became so absorbed in their conversation that they seemed to forget the painter. He sat on a log and watched Them. Ultimately, the girl said, won't you give us a ride? Sure, said the old man.

[John Harker]

Come on and I'll help you up.

[Billy Hawker]

He assisted her very painstakingly to the old board that usually served him as a seat, and he clambered to a place beside her.

[John Harker]

Come on, William.

[Billy Hawker]

He called. The painter climbed into the wagon and stood behind his father, putting his hand on the old man's shoulder to preserve his balance.

[Grace Van Hall]

Which is the near ox?

[Billy Hawker]

Asked the girl with a sigh, serious frown.

[John Harker]

Giddap.

[Billy Hawker]

Aw, that one there, said the old man.

[Grace Van Hall]

And this one is the off ox?

[John Harker]

Yep.

[Grace Van Hall]

Well, suppose you sat here where I do. Would this one be the near ox and that one the off ox then?

[John Harker]

No, be just same then.

[Grace Van Hall]

The near ox isn't always the nearest one to a person at all. That ox there is always the near ox.

[John Harker]

Yep, always. Cause when you drive em afoot you always walk on the left side.

[Grace Van Hall]

Well, I never knew that before.

[Billy Hawker]

After studying them in silence for a while, she said, do you think they are happy? I don't know, said the old man.

[John Harker]

Ah, I never thought.

[Billy Hawker]

As the wagon creaked on, they gravely discussed this problem, contemplating profoundly the backs of the animals. Hawker gazed in silence at the meditating tube before him. Under the wagon, Stanley the setter walked slowly, wagging his tail in placid contentment and ruminating upon his experiences. At last the old man said cheerfully,

[John Harker]

shall I take you around by the inn?

[Billy Hawker]

Hawker started and seemed to wince at the question. Perhaps he was about to interrupt, but the girl cried, oh, will you take

[Grace Van Hall]

us right to the door? Oh, that will be awfully good of you.

[George Hollanden]

Why?

[Billy Hawker]

Began Hawker, you don't want.

[George Hollanden]

You don't want to ride to the inn on anon an ox wagon, do you?

[Grace Van Hall]

Why of course I do, she retorted,

[Billy Hawker]

directing a withering glance at him.

[George Hollanden]

Why?

[Billy Hawker]

He protested. Let her be, William interrupted the old man.

[John Harker]

Let her do what she wants to. I guess everybody in the world ain't even got an ox wagon to ride in, have they?

[Grace Van Hall]

No indeed.

[Billy Hawker]

She returned while withering cocker again.

[John Harker]

Gee. Gee.

[Katie Duke]

Whoa.

[John Harker]

Ha. Giddap. Haw. Whoa. Back.

[Billy Hawker]

After these two attacks, Hawker became silent.

[John Harker]

Gee. Gee. Gee. There. Blast. Excuse me. Gee. Whoa. Giddap.

[Billy Hawker]

All the boarders of the inn were upon its porches waiting for the dinner gong. There was a surge toward the railing as a middle aged woman passed the word along her middle aged face. Friends, that Miss Fanhall, accompanied by Mr. Hawker, had arrived on the ox cart of Mr. Hawker's father.

[Grace Van Hall]

Whoa.

[John Harker]

Haw. Get ap.

[Billy Hawker]

Said the old man in subdued tones.

[John Harker]

Whoa there, Red. Whoa now.

[Grace Van Hall]

Whoa.

[Billy Hawker]

Hawker helped the girl to alight.

[Katie Duke]

Hi, I'm Katie Duke and I've been a nurse for over 20 years. Listen, I used to think that I was my most stylish in my 20s, but honestly, style and confidence only get better with age. And that is why I love figs. These scrubs are beautiful, comfortable, and they are built to last. They're not those boxy, scratchy uniforms that we all started out in. No, no, no. These fit perfectly, they feel amazing, and the quality is just.

[Wrinkles]

Wow.

[Katie Duke]

My favorite color, burgundy. It's chic, it's timeless, and it's even the same color as my apartment because I'm kind of obsessed with it. And I love adding custom embroidery to make my scrubs as personal as my style. And since I work in telehealth, my embroidered figs even double as my ID badge. It's never too late to reinvent yourself or your scrubs. Get 15% off your first order at wearfigs.com with the code FIGSRX. That's wherefigs.com code FIGSRX for 15% off your first order.

[Billy Hawker]

And she paused for a moment, conversing with the old man about the oxen. Then she ran, smiling, up the steps to meet the Worcester girls.

[Grace Van Hall]

Oh, such a lovely time. Those dear old oxen. You should have been with us.

[Billy Hawker]

End of chapter 14. Chapter 15 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 15

[Florinda O'Connor]

oh, Ms. Vanel.

[Grace Van Hall]

What is it, Mrs. Trescott?

[Hollanden]

That was a great prank of yours last night, my dear. We all enjoyed the joke so much.

[Grace Van Hall]

Prank?

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

Yes.

[Hollanden]

You're riding on the ox cart with that old farmer and that young Mr. What's his name? You know, we all thought it delicious. Ah, my dear, after all, don't be offended. If we had your people's wealth and position, we might do that sort of unconventional thing, too. But, my dear, we can't.

[George Hollanden]

We can't?

[Hollanden]

Isn't a young painter. Tell me, man.

[Billy Hawker]

Out on the porch, Hollanden was haranguing his friends. He heard a step and glanced over his shoulder to see who was about to interrupt him. He suddenly ceased his oration and said, hello.

[Hollanden]

What's the matter with Grace?

[Billy Hawker]

The heads turned promptly as the girl came toward them. It could be seen that her cheeks were very pink and her eyes were flashing general wrath and defiance. The Worcester girls burst into eager interrogation.

[Grace Van Hall]

Oh, nothing, she replied at first.

[Billy Hawker]

But later she added in an Undertone,

[Grace Van Hall]

that wretched Mrs. Truscott.

[Billy Hawker]

What did she Say, Whispered the younger Woostergirl.

[Grace Van Hall]

Why? She said, oh, nothing.

[Billy Hawker]

Both Hollanden and Hawker were industriously reflecting. Later in the morning, Hawker said privately

[George Hollanden]

to the girl, I know what Mrs. Truscott talked to you about.

[Billy Hawker]

She turned upon him belligerently.

[Grace Van Hall]

You do?

[Billy Hawker]

Yes, he answered with meekness.

[George Hollanden]

It was undoubtedly some reference to your ride upon the ox wagon.

[Billy Hawker]

She hesitated a moment and then said, well? With still greater meekness, he said, I am very sorry.

[Grace Van Hall]

Are you indeed?

[Billy Hawker]

She inquired loftily.

[Grace Van Hall]

Sorry for what? Sorry that I rode upon your father's ox wagon, or sorry that Mrs. Truscott was rude to me about it?

[George Hollanden]

Well, in some ways it was my fault.

[John Harker]

Was it?

[Grace Van Hall]

I suppose you intend to apologize for your father's owning an ox wagon, don't you?

[George Hollanden]

No, but.

[Grace Van Hall]

Well, I am going to ride in the ox wagon whenever I choose. Your father, I know, will always be glad to have me. And if it so shocks you, there is not the slightest necessity of your coming with us.

[Billy Hawker]

They glowered at each other, and he

[George Hollanden]

said, you have twisted the question with the usual ability of your sex.

[Billy Hawker]

She pondered as if seeking some particularly destructive retort. She ended by saying bluntly, did you

[Grace Van Hall]

know that we were going home next week?

[Billy Hawker]

A flash came suddenly to his face.

[George Hollanden]

No. Going home?

[Major]

Who?

[Grainger Announcer]

You?

[Grace Van Hall]

Why, of course.

[Billy Hawker]

And then, with an indolent air, she

[Grace Van Hall]

I meant to have told you before this, but somehow it quite escaped me.

[Billy Hawker]

He stammered,

[George Hollanden]

are you honestly?

[Billy Hawker]

She nodded.

[Grace Van Hall]

Why, of course. Can't stay here forever, you know.

[Billy Hawker]

They were silent for a long time. At last Hawker said, do you remember

[George Hollanden]

what I told you yesterday?

[Grace Van Hall]

No, what was it?

[Billy Hawker]

He cried indignantly.

[George Hollanden]

You know very well what I told you.

[Grace Van Hall]

I do not, no.

[Billy Hawker]

He sneered.

[George Hollanden]

Of course not. You never take the trouble to remember such things. Of course not, of course not.

[Grace Van Hall]

You are a very ridiculous person, she vouchsafed.

[Billy Hawker]

After eyeing him coldly, he arose abruptly.

[George Hollanden]

I believe I am. By heavens, I believe I am.

[Billy Hawker]

He cried in a fury. She laughed.

[Grace Van Hall]

You are more ridiculous now than I have yet seen you.

[Billy Hawker]

After a pause, he said magnificently, well,

[George Hollanden]

Ms. Fanhall, you will doubtless find Mr. Hollanden's conversation to have a much greater interest than that of such a ridiculous person.

[Billy Hawker]

Hollanden approached them with the blithesome step of an untroubled man.

[Hollanden]

Hello, you two people. Why don't you. Oh, hold on, Billy, where are you going?

[Billy Hawker]

I began Hocker.

[Grace Van Hall]

Oh, Holly.

[Billy Hawker]

Cried the girl impetuously.

[Grace Van Hall]

Do tell me how to do that slam thing. You know, I've tried it so often, but I don't believe I Hold my racket. Right. And you do it so beautifully.

[Billy Hawker]

Oh, that, said Holland.

[Hollanden]

It's not so very difficult. I'll show it to you. You don't want to know this minute, do you?

[Billy Hawker]

Yes, she answered.

[Hollanden]

Well, come over to the court then. Come ahead, Billy.

[Billy Hawker]

No, said Hawker without looking at his friend.

[George Hollanden]

I can't this morning, Holly. I've got to go to work. Good bye.

[Billy Hawker]

He comprehended them both in a swift bow and stalked away. Hollanden turned quickly to the girl.

[Hollanden]

What was the matter with Billy? What was he grinding his teeth for? What was the matter with him?

[Grace Van Hall]

Why, nothing was there?

[Billy Hawker]

She asked in surprise.

[Hollanden]

Why, he was grinding his teeth until he sounded like a stone crusher, said

[Billy Hawker]

Hollanden in a severe tone.

[Hollanden]

What was the matter with him?

[Grace Van Hall]

How should I know?

[Billy Hawker]

She retorted.

[Hollanden]

You've been saying something to him.

[Grace Van Hall]

I? I didn't say a thing.

[Hollanden]

Yes, you did, Holly.

[Grace Van Hall]

Don't be absurd.

[Billy Hawker]

Hollanden debated with himself for a time and then observed.

[Hollanden]

Oh well. Always said he was an ugly tempered fellow.

[Billy Hawker]

The girl flashed him a little glance.

[Hollanden]

And now I am sure of it. As ugly tempered a fellow as ever

[Billy Hawker]

lived, I believe you, said the girl. Then she added, all men are.

[Grace Van Hall]

I declare, I think you to be the most incomprehensible creatures. One never knows what to expect of you, and you explode and go into rages and make yourselves ugly, utterly detestable over the most trivial matters, and at the most unexpected times. You are all mad.

[Billy Hawker]

I think I cried Holland wildly.

[Hollanden]

What in the mischief have I done?

[Billy Hawker]

Chapter 15. Chapter 16 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 16 look here, said Hollanden at length.

[Hollanden]

I thought you were so wonderfully anxious to learn that stroke.

[Grace Van Hall]

Well, I am, she said.

[Hollanden]

Come on then.

[Billy Hawker]

As they walked toward the tennis court, he seemed to be plunged into a mournful thought. In his eyes was a singular expression which perhaps denoted the woe of the optimist. Pushed suddenly from its height, he sighed.

[Hollanden]

Oh well, I suppose all women, even the best of them, are that way.

[Grace Van Hall]

What way?

[Billy Hawker]

She said. My dear child, he answered in a benevolent manner, you have disappointed me because

[Hollanden]

I have discovered that you resemble the rest of your sex.

[Billy Hawker]

Ah, she remarked, maintaining a non committal attitude. Yes, continued Hollanden with a sad but kindly smile.

[Hollanden]

Even you, Grace were not above fooling with the affections of a poor country swain till he don't know his ear from the tooth he had pulled two years ago.

[Billy Hawker]

She laughed.

[Grace Van Hall]

He would be furious if he heard you call him a country swain.

[Billy Hawker]

You would, said Hollanden. Why, the country swain, of course, she rejoined. Hollanden seemed plunged in mournful reflection again.

[Hollanden]

Well, it's a shame, Grace, anyhow, he

[Billy Hawker]

observed, wagging his head dolefully.

[Hollanden]

It's a howling, wicked shame, Holly.

[Grace Van Hall]

You have no brains at all, she said, despite your opinion.

[Billy Hawker]

No, he replied ironically, not a bit.

[Grace Van Hall]

You haven't, you know, Holly.

[Billy Hawker]

At any rate, he said in an angry voice, I have some comprehension and

[Hollanden]

sympathy for the feelings of others.

[Grace Van Hall]

Have you?

[Billy Hawker]

She asked.

[Grace Van Hall]

How do you mean, Holly? Do you mean you have feeling for them in their various sorrows, or do you mean that you understand their minds?

[Billy Hawker]

Holland ponderously began.

[Hollanden]

There have been people who have not questioned my ability to oh, then you

[Grace Van Hall]

mean that you both feel for them in their sorrows and comprehend the machinery of their minds. Well, let me tell you that in regard to the last thing, you are wrong. You know nothing of anyone's mind. You. You know less about human nature than anybody I have met.

[Billy Hawker]

Holland looked at her in artless astonishment.

[Hollanden]

He said, now, I wonder what made you say that.

[Billy Hawker]

This interrogation did not seem to be addressed to her, but was evidently a statement to himself of a problem. He meditated for some moments. Eventually he I suppose you mean that

[Hollanden]

I don't understand you.

[Grace Van Hall]

Why do you suppose I mean that?

[Hollanden]

That's what a person usually means when he or she charges another with not understanding the entire world.

[Grace Van Hall]

Well, at any rate, it is not what I mean at all, she said. I mean that you habitually blunder about other people's affairs in the belief, I imagine, that you are a great philanthropist when you are only making an extraordinary exhibition of yourself.

[Hollanden]

The dev.

[Billy Hawker]

Began Hollanden. Afterward, he said, now I wonder what

[Hollanden]

in blue thunder you mean this time.

[Grace Van Hall]

Mean this time? My meaning is very plain, Holly. I suppose the words were clear enough.

[Billy Hawker]

Yes, he said thoughtfully, your words were clear enough.

[Hollanden]

But then you were of course referring back to some event or series of events in which I had the singular ill fortune to displease you. Maybe you don't know yourself and spoke only from the emotion generated by the event or series of events in which, as I have said, I had the singular ill fortune to dispute. Please you.

[Grace Van Hall]

How awfully clever, she said.

[Hollanden]

But I can't recall the event or series of events at all.

[Billy Hawker]

He continued, musing with a scholarly air and disregarding her mockery.

[Hollanden]

I can't remember a thing about it, to be sure. It might have been that time when

[Grace Van Hall]

I think it very stupid of you to hunt for. For a meaning when I believe I

[Billy Hawker]

made everything so perfectly clear, she said wrathfully.

[Hollanden]

Well, you yourself might not be aware

[Billy Hawker]

of what you really meant, he answered sagely.

[Hollanden]

Women often do that sort of thing, you know. Women often speak from motives which if brought face to face with them, they wouldn't be able to distinguish from any other thing which they had never before seen.

[Grace Van Hall]

Holly, if there's a disgusting person in the world, it is he who pretends to know so much concerning a woman's mind.

[Hollanden]

Well, that's because they who know or pretend to know so much about a woman's mind are invariably satirical. You understand?

[Billy Hawker]

Said Hollanden cheerfully. A dog ran frantically across the lawn, his nose high in the air and his countenance expressing fast perturbation and alarm.

[Hollanden]

Why, Billy forgot to whistle for his

[Billy Hawker]

dog when he started for home, said Hollanden.

[Hollanden]

Come here, old man. Well, he was a nice dog.

[Billy Hawker]

The girl also gave invitation, but the setter would not heed them. He spun wildly about the lawn until he seemed to strike his master's trail, and then, with his nose near to the ground, went down the road at an eager gallop. They stood and watched him. Stanley's a nice dog, said Hollanden. Indeed he is, replied the girl fervently. Presently, Holland remarked, well, let's don't fight

[Hollanden]

any more, particularly since we can't decide what we're fighting about. I can't discover the reason, and you don't know, so I do know it.

[Grace Van Hall]

I told you very plainly.

[Hollanden]

Well, all right. Now, this is the way to work that slam. You give the ball a sort of lift, see? Underhanded and with your arm crooked and stiff. Here, you smash this other ball into the net. Ay, look out. If you hit it that way, you'll knock it over the hotel. Let the ball drop nearer to the ground. Oh, heavens, not on the ground. It's hard to do it from the serve. Anyhow. I'll go over to the other court and bat you some easy ones.

[Billy Hawker]

Afterward, when they were going toward the end, the girl suddenly began to laugh.

[Hollanden]

What are you giggling at?

[Billy Hawker]

Said Hollanden.

[Grace Van Hall]

I was thinking how furious he would be if he heard you call him a country swain, she rejoined.

[Billy Hawker]

Who asked Holland? Chapter. Chapter 17 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 17. Oglethorpe contended that the men who made the most money from books were the best authors. Hollanden contended that they were the worst. Oglethorpe said that such a question should be left to the people. Hollanden said that the people habitually made wrong decisions on questions that were left to them. That is the most odiously aristocratic belief, said Oglethorpe. No, said Hollanden.

[Hollanden]

I like the people. But consider generally they are a collection of ingenious blockheads.

[Billy Hawker]

But they read your books, said Oglethorpe, grinning. That is through a mistake, replied Hollanden. As the discussion grew in size it incited the close attention of the Worcester Girls. But Ms. Fanhall did not see seemed to hear it. Hawker, too was staring into the darkness with a gloomy and preoccupied air.

[George Hollanden]

Are you sorry that this is your last evening at Hemlock Inn?

[Billy Hawker]

Said the painter at last in a low tone.

[Grace Van Hall]

Why yes, certainly, said the girl.

[Billy Hawker]

Under the sloping porch of the inn the vague orange light from the parlours drifted to the black wall of the night.

[George Hollanden]

I shall miss you, said the painter.

[Grace Van Hall]

Oh, I dare say, said the girl.

[Billy Hawker]

Hollandon was lecturing at length and wonderfully in the mystic spaces of the night. The pines could be heard in their weird monotone as they softly smote branch and branch, as if moving in some solemn and sorrowful dance.

[George Hollanden]

This has been quite the most delightful summer of my experience, said the painter.

[Grace Van Hall]

I have found it very pleasant, said the girl.

[Billy Hawker]

From time to time Hawker glanced furtively at Oglethorpe, Hollandon, and the Wooster girl. This glance expressed no desire for their well being. I shall miss you, he said to the girl again. His manner was rather desperate. She made no reply, and after leaning toward her, he subsided with an air of defeat.

[George Hollanden]

Eventually he remarked, it'll be very lonely here again. I dare say. I shall return to New York myself in a few weeks.

[Grace Van Hall]

I hope you will call, she said.

[Billy Hawker]

I shall be delighted, he answered stiffly, and with a dissatisfied look at her. Oh, Mr. Harker. Cried the younger Wooster girl, suddenly emerging from the cloud of argument which Hollandon and Oglethorpe kept in the air. Ought it be sad to lose Grace? Indeed, I don't know what we shall do. Shan't we miss her dreadfully? Yes, said Hawker.

[George Hollanden]

We shall of course miss her dreadfully.

[Grace Van Hall]

Yes, won't it be frightful?

[Billy Hawker]

Said the elder Worcester girl. I can't imagine what we will do without her.

[Grace Van Hall]

And Holle is only going to spend 10 more days. Oh, dear. Mamma, I believe, will insist on staying the entire summer. It was Papa's orders, you know, and I really think she is going to obey them.

[Billy Hawker]

He said he wanted her to have one period of rest at any rate.

[Grace Van Hall]

She is such a busy woman in town, you know.

[Billy Hawker]

Here, said Hollanden, wheeling to them.

[Hollanden]

Suddenly you all look as if you were badgering Hawker and he looked badgered. What were you saying to him?

[Billy Hawker]

Why, answered the younger Wooster girl, we were only saying to him how lonely it would be without grace. Oh, said Hollanden, as the evening grew old, the mother of the Wooster girls church, join the group. This was a sign that the girls were not to long delay the vanishing time. She sat almost upon the edge of her chair, as if she expected to be called upon at any moment to arise and bow. Good night. And she repaid Hollanden's eloquent attention with the placid and absent minded smiles of the chaperone who waits once the younger Worcester girl shrugged her shoulders and turned to say, mamma, you make me nervous. Her mother merely smiled in a still more placid and absent minded manner. Oglethorpe arose to drag his chair nearer to the railing, and when he stood, the Worcester mother moved and looked around expectantly. But Oglethorpe took seat again. Hawker kept an anxious eye upon her. Presently Miss Fanhall arose.

[George Hollanden]

Why, you are not going in already, are you?

[Billy Hawker]

Said Hocker and Hollandon and Oglethorpe. The Worcestermother moved toward the door, followed by her daughters, who were protesting in muffled tones. Hollanden pitched violently upon Oglethorpe. Well, at any rate, he said. He picked the thread of a past argument. With great agility, Hawker said to the girl,

[George Hollanden]

I shall miss you dreadfully.

[Billy Hawker]

She turned to look at him and smiled.

[Grace Van Hall]

Shall you?

[Billy Hawker]

She said in a low voice. Yes, he said. Thereafter he stood before her awkwardly and in silence. She scrutinized the boards of the floor. Suddenly she drew a violet from a cluster of them upon her gown and thrust it out to him as she turned toward the approaching oglethorpe. Good night, Mr. Hawker, said the latter. I am very glad to have met you, I'm sure. Hope to see you in town.

[Major]

Good night.

[Billy Hawker]

He stood near when the girl said to Hawker, good bye.

[Grace Van Hall]

You have given us such a charming summer. We shall be delighted to see you in town. You must come some time when the children can see you too. Good bye.

[Billy Hawker]

Good bye, replied Hawker, eagerly and feverishly, trying to interpret the inscrutable feminine face before him.

[George Hollanden]

I shall come at my first opportunity.

[Grace Van Hall]

Good bye.

[George Hollanden]

Good bye.

[Billy Hawker]

Down at the farmhouse in the black quiet of the night, a dog lay curled on the doormat. Of a sudden the tail of this dog began to thump, thump on the boards. It began as a lazy movement, but it passed into a state of gentle enthusiasm, and then into one of curiously loud and joyful celebration. At last the gate clicked. The dog uncurled and went to the edge of the steps to greet his master. He gave adoring, tremulous welcome, with his clear eyes shining in the darkness. Well, Stan, old boy, said Hawker, stooping to stroke the dog's head. After his master had entered the house, the dog went forward and sniffed at something that lay on the top step. Apparently it did not interest him greatly, for he returned in a moment to the door mat. But he was again obliged to uncurl himself, for his master came out of the house with a lighted lamp and made search of the door mat, the steps, and the walk, swearing. Meanwhile, in an undertone, the dog wagged his tail and sleepily watched the ceremony. When his master had again entered the house, the dog went forward and sniffed at the top step, but the thing that had lain there was gone. End of chapter 17. Chapter 18 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 18 it was evident at breakfast that Hawker's sisters had achieved information. What's the matter with you this morning? Asked one. You look as if you hadn't slept well.

[George Hollanden]

There is nothing the matter with me,

[Billy Hawker]

he rejoined, looking glumly at his plate. Well, you look kind of broke up.

[George Hollanden]

How I look is of no consequence. I tell you. There is nothing the matter with me.

[Billy Hawker]

Oh, Said his sister. She exchanged meaningful glances with the other feminine members of the family. Presently the other sister observed.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

I heard she was going home today.

[George Hollanden]

Who?

[Billy Hawker]

Said Hawker, with a challenge in his tone.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

Why, that New York girl, Miss what's her name?

[Billy Hawker]

Replied the sister with an undaunted smile.

[George Hollanden]

Did you indeed? Well, perhaps she is.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

Oh, you don't know for sure, I suppose.

[Billy Hawker]

Hocker arose from the table and, taking his hat, went away. Mary, said the mother in the sepulchral tone of belated but conscientious reproof.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

Well, I don't care. He needn't be so grand. I didn't go to tease him. I don't care.

[Billy Hawker]

Well, you ought to care, said the old man suddenly.

[John Harker]

There's no sense in you women folks pestering the boy all the time. I let him alone with his own business, can't you?

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

Well, ain't we leaving him alone?

[John Harker]

No, you ain't. Cept when he ain't here, I don't wonder the boy grabs his hat and skiffs out when you get to goin'.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

Well, what did we say to him? Now tell us what we said to him that was so dreadful.

[John Harker]

Aw, thunder and lightnin'.

[Billy Hawker]

Cried the old man with a sudden great Snarl. They seemed to know by this ejaculation that he had emerged in an instant from that place where man endures. And they ended the discussion. The old man continued his breakfast. During his walk that morning, Hawker visited a certain cascade, a certain lake and some roads, paths, groves, nooks. Later in the day he made a sketch, choosing an hour when the atmosphere was of a dark blue, like powder smoke in the shade of trees, and the western sky was burning in strips of red. He painted with a wild face, like a man who is killing. After supper, he and his father strolled under the apple boughs in the orchard and smoked. Once he gestured wearily.

[George Hollanden]

Oh, I guess I'll go back to New York in a few days.

[Billy Hawker]

Hmm, replied his father calmly.

[John Harker]

All right, William.

[Billy Hawker]

Several days later, Hawker accosted his father in the barnyard.

[George Hollanden]

I suppose you think sometimes I don't care so much about you and the folks and the old place any more. But I do.

[Billy Hawker]

M. Said the old man.

[John Harker]

When you goin'?

[George Hollanden]

Where?

[Billy Hawker]

Said Hocker, flushing.

[John Harker]

Back to New York.

[George Hollanden]

Why, I hadn't thought much about. Oh, next week, I guess.

[John Harker]

Well, do as you like, William. You know how glad me and Mother and the girls are to have you come home with us. Whenever you can come, you know that. But you must do as you think best. And if you ought to go back to New York now, William, why do as you think best?

[Billy Hawker]

Well, my work, said Hawker. From time to time the mother made wondering speech to the sisters.

[Mother Hawker]

How much nicer William is now. He's just as good as he can be there for a while. He was so cross and out of sorts. I don't see what could have come over him. But now he's just as good as he can be.

[Billy Hawker]

Holland told him.

[Hollanden]

Come up to the inn more, you fool.

[George Hollanden]

I was up there yesterday.

[Hollanden]

Yesterday? What of that? I've seen the time when the farm couldn't hold you for two hours during the day.

[George Hollanden]

Go to blazes.

[Hollanden]

Millicent got a letter from Grace Fanel the other day.

[George Hollanden]

That so?

[Hollanden]

Yes, she did. Grace wrote. Say, does that shadow look pure purple to you?

[George Hollanden]

Certainly it does. I wouldn't paint it so. Duffer. What did she write?

[Hollanden]

Well, if that shadow was pure purple, my eyes are liar's. Looks a kind of slate colour to me. Lord, if what you fellows say in your pictures is true, the whole earth must be blazing and burning and glowing.

[Billy Hawker]

And Hocker went into a rage.

[George Hollanden]

Oh, you don't know anything about colour, Holly. For heaven's sake, shut up or I'll smash you with the easel.

[Hollanden]

Well, I was going to tell you what Grace wrote in her letter. She said, go on, give me time, can't you? She said that town was stupid and that she wished she was back at Hemlock Inn.

[George Hollanden]

Oh, is that all?

[Hollanden]

Is that all? I wonder what you expected. Well, and she asked to be recalled to you.

[George Hollanden]

Yes, thanks, and that's all.

[Hollanden]

Gad, for such a devoted man as you were, your enthusiasm and interest are stupendous.

[Billy Hawker]

The father said to the mother, well,

[John Harker]

William's goin back to New York next week.

[Mother Hawker]

Is he? Why, he ain't said nothing to me about it.

[John Harker]

Well, he is anyhow.

[Mother Hawker]

I declare. What do you s' pose he's goin back before September for, John?

[John Harker]

How do I know?

[Mother Hawker]

Well, it's funny, John, I bet. I bet he's goin back so he can see that girl.

[John Harker]

He says it's his work.

[Billy Hawker]

End of Chapter 18. Chapter 19 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 19 Wrinkles had been peering into the little dry goods box the that acted as a cupboard.

[Wrinkles]

There are only two eggs and half

[Billy Hawker]

a loaf of bread left, he announced brutally.

[Great Grief]

Heavens.

[Billy Hawker]

Said Warwickson from where he lay smoking on the bed. He spoke in a dismal voice. This tone, it is said, had earned him his popular name of great grief. From different points of the compass, Wrinkles looked at the little cupboard with a tremendous scowl, as if he intended thus to frighten the eggs into becoming more than two and the bread and becoming a loaf.

[Wrinkles]

Plague tyket.

[Billy Hawker]

He exclaimed. Oh, shut up, Wrinkles said, said Grief from the bed. Wrinkle sat down with an air austere and virtuous.

[Wrinkles]

Well, what are we going to do?

[Billy Hawker]

He demanded of the others. Grief, after swearing, said, there, that's right.

[Great Grief]

Now you're happy. The Holy Office of the Inquisition Blast your buttons, Wrinkles. You always try to keep us from starving peacefully. It is two hours before dinner anyhow, and.

[Wrinkles]

But what are you going to do?

[Billy Hawker]

Persisted Wrinkles. Pennoyer, with his head afar down, had been busily scratching at a pen and ink drawing. He looked up from his board to utter a plaintive optimism.

[Pennoyer]

The monthly amazement will pay me to morrow. They ought to. I've waited over three months. Now I'm going down there to morrow, and perhaps I'll get it.

[Billy Hawker]

His friends listened with airs of tolerance.

[Wrinkles]

Oh, no doubt, panny old man.

[Billy Hawker]

But at last Wrinkles giggled pityingly over on the bed. Grief croaked deep down in his throat. Nothing was said for a long time Thereafter the crash of the New York streets came faintly to this room. Occasionally one could hear the tramp of feet in the intricate corridors of the begrimed building, which squatted slumbering and old between two exalted commercial structures which would have had to bend far down to proceed receive it. The northward march of the city's progress had happened not to overturn this aged structure, and it huddled there lost and forgotten, while the cloud fearing towers drove on. Meanwhile the first shadows of dusk came in at the blurred windows of the room. Pennoyer threw down his pistol pen and tossed his drawing over on the wonderful heap of stuff that hid the table.

[Pennoyer]

It's too dark to work.

[Billy Hawker]

He lit a pipe and walked about, stretching his shoulders like a man whose labor was valuable. When the dusk came fully, the youths grew apparently sad. The solemnity of the gloom seemed to make them ponder Light. The gas Wrinkles, said Grief fretfully. The flood of orange light showed clearly the dull walls lined with sketches, the tousled bed in one corner, the masses of boxes and trunks in another, a little dead stove and the wonderful table. Moreover, there were wine colored draperies flung in some places, and on a shelf high up there were plaster casts with dust in the creases. A long stove pipe wandered off in the wrong direction and then turned impulsively toward a hole in the wall. There were some elaborate cobwebs on the ceiling. Well, let's eat, said Grief. Eat, Said Wrinkles with a jeer.

[Wrinkles]

I told you there was only two eggs and a little bread left. How are we going to eat again?

[Billy Hawker]

Brought face to face with this problem. And at the hour for dinner, Pennoya and Greef thought profoundly Thunder and turf, Greef finally announced as the result of his deliberations.

[Pennoyer]

Well, if Billy Harker was only home, began Pennoyer.

[Wrinkles]

But he isn't, objected Wrinkles. And that settles that grief.

[Billy Hawker]

And Pennoyer thought more. Ultimately, Grief said, oh well, let's eat what we've got. The others at once agreed to this suggestion as if it had been in their minds. Later there came a quick step in the passage and a confident little thunder upon the door. Wrinkles arranging the tin pail and the gas stove, Pennoyer engaged in slicing the bread in great grief, affixing the rubber tube to the gas stove, yelled, coming. The door opened and Ms. Florinda O' Connor the model dashed into the room like a gale of obstreperous autumn leaves.

[Pennoyer]

Why, hello, Flutter.

[Billy Hawker]

They cried.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Oh, boys, I've come to dine with You.

[Billy Hawker]

It was like a squall striking a fleet of yachts. Grief spoke first.

[Great Grief]

Yes, you have.

[Billy Hawker]

He said incredulously.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Why, certainly I have. What's the matter?

[Billy Hawker]

They grinned. Well, old lady, responded Grief, you've hit

[Great Grief]

us at the wrong time. We are, in fact, all out of everything. No dinner to mention, and what's more, we haven't got a sound.

[Florinda O'Connor]

What? Again?

[Billy Hawker]

Cried Florinda.

[Great Grief]

Yes, again. You'd better dine home tonight.

[Billy Hawker]

But I'llI'll stake you, said the girl eagerly.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Oh, you poor old idiots. It's a shame. Say I'll stake you.

[Billy Hawker]

Certainly not, said Pennoyer sternly.

[Wrinkles]

What are you talking about? Splutter?

[Billy Hawker]

Demanded Wrinkles in an angry voice.

[Great Grief]

No, that won't go down, said Grief

[Billy Hawker]

in a resolute yet wistful tone. Florinda divested herself of her hat, jacket, and gloves and put them where she pleased.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Got coffee, haven't you? Well, I'm not going to stir a step.

[Billy Hawker]

You're a fine lot of birds, she added bitterly.

[Florinda O'Connor]

You've all pulled me out of a whole lot of scrape. Oh, any number of times. And now you're broke. You'll go acting like a set of dudes.

[Billy Hawker]

Great Grief had fixed the coffee to boil on the gas stove, but he had to watch it closely, for the rubber tube was short and a chair was balanced on a trunk, and the two bundles of key kindling was balanced on the chair, and the gas stove was balanced on the kindling. Coffee making was here accounted a feat. Pennoyer dropped a piece of bread to the floor.

[Pennoyer]

Ah, there. I'll have to go shy one.

[Billy Hawker]

Wrinkles sat playing serenades on his guitar and staring with a frown at the table as if he was applying some strange method of clearing it of its litter. Florinda assaulted Great Grief here.

[Florinda O'Connor]

That's not the way to make coffee.

[Great Grief]

What ain't?

[Florinda O'Connor]

Why, the way you're making it, you want to take.

[Billy Hawker]

She explained some way to him which he couldn't understand.

[Pennoyer]

For heaven's sake, Wrinkles, tackle that table. Don't sit there like a music box,

[Billy Hawker]

said Pennoyer, grappling the eggs and starting for the gas stove. Later, as they sat around the board, Wrinkle said with satisfaction, well, the coffee's good anyhow.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Tis good, said Florinda, but it isn't made right. I'll show you how. Penny, you first.

[Billy Hawker]

Oh, dry up, Splutter, said Grief.

[Great Grief]

Here, take an egg.

[Billy Hawker]

I don't like eggs, said Florinda. Take an egg, said the three hosts menacingly.

[Florinda O'Connor]

I tell You. I don't like eggs.

[Billy Hawker]

Take an egg, they said again.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Oh, well, said Florinda, I'll take one then. But you needn't act like such a set of dudes and oh, maybe you didn't have much lunch. I had such a daisy lunch up at Pontiac's studio. He's got a lovely studio.

[Billy Hawker]

The three looked to be oppressed. Grief said sullenly, I saw some of

[Great Grief]

his things over in Stencils gallery, and they're rotten.

[Billy Hawker]

Yes, rotten, said Pennoyer. Rotten, said Grief. Oh, well, retorted Florinda.

[Florinda O'Connor]

If a man has a swell studio and dresses, oh, sort of like a willie, you know. You fellows sit here like owls in a cave and say, rotten, rotten, rotten. You're a way off. Pontiac's landscapes, landscapes be blowed.

[Great Grief]

Put any of his work alongside of Billy Hawker's and see how it looks.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Oh, well, Billy Hawker's, said Florinda. Oh, well.

[Billy Hawker]

At the mention of Hawker's name, they all turned to scan her face. Chapter 19. Chapter 20 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 20 he wrote that he was coming home this week, said Pennoyer.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Did he?

[Billy Hawker]

Asked Florinda indifferently.

[Pennoyer]

Yes. Aren't you glad?

[Billy Hawker]

They were still watching her face.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Yes, of course I'm glad. Why shouldn't I be glad?

[Billy Hawker]

Cried the girl with defiance. They grinned.

[Pennoyer]

Oh, certainly. Billy Harker is a good fellow. Sputter, you have a particular right to be glad.

[Billy Hawker]

You people make me tired, Florinda retorted.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Billy Hawker doesn't give a rap about me. And he never tried to make out that he did.

[Billy Hawker]

No, said Grief.

[Great Grief]

But that isn't saying that you don't care a rap about Billy Hawker, huh, Florinda?

[Billy Hawker]

It seemed that the girl's throat suffered a slight contraction.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Well, and what if I do?

[Billy Hawker]

She demanded finally. Have a cigarette, answered Grief. Florinda took a cigarette, lit it, and perching herself on a divan which was secretly a coal box, she smoked fiercely.

[Florinda O'Connor]

What if I do?

[Billy Hawker]

She again demanded.

[Florinda O'Connor]

It's better than liking one of you dubs anyhow.

[Wrinkles]

Oh, Splutter, you poor little outspoken kid,

[Billy Hawker]

said Wrinkles in a sad voice. Grief searched among the pipes until he found the best one.

[Great Grief]

Yes, Splutter, don't you know that when you are so frank you defy every law of your sex, and wild eyes will take your trail?

[Billy Hawker]

Oh, you talk through your hat, replied Florinda.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Billy don't care whether I like him or whether I don't. And if he should hear me now he wouldn't be glad or give a hang either way. I know that.

[Billy Hawker]

The girl paused and looked at the row of plaster casts.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Still, you needn't be throwing it at me all the time.

[Billy Hawker]

We didn't, said Wrinkles indignantly.

[Wrinkles]

You threw it at yourself.

[Billy Hawker]

Well, continued Florinda, it's better than liking

[Florinda O'Connor]

one of you dubs. Anyhow, he makes money.

[Billy Hawker]

And there, said Grief, now you've hit it.

[Great Grief]

But dad, you've reached a point in eulogy where if you move again you will have to go backwards.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Of course I don't care anything about a fellow's having money.

[Billy Hawker]

No, indeed you don't, Splutter, said Pennoyer.

[Florinda O'Connor]

But then you know what I mean. A fellow isn't a man and doesn't stand up straight unless he has some money. And Billy Hawker makes enough so that you feel that nobody could walk over him, don't you know? And there isn't anything j about him either. He's a thoroughbred, don't you know?

[Billy Hawker]

After reflection, Pennoyer said, it's pretty hard

[Pennoyer]

on the rest of us, Splutter.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Well, of course I like him, but.

[Billy Hawker]

But what? Said Pennoyer. I don't know, said Florinda. Purple Sanderson lived in this room, but he usually dined out at a certain time in his life, before he came to be a great artist. He had learned the gasfitters trade, and when his opinion opinions were not identical with the opinions of the art managers of the greater number of New York publications, he went to see a friend who was a plumber, and the opinions of this man he was thereafter said to respect. He frequented a very neat restaurant on 23rd Street. It was known that on Saturday nights Wrinkles, Grief, and Penoeur frequently quarreled with him. As Florinda ceased speaking, Purple entered.

[George Hollanden]

Hello there, Splutter.

[Billy Hawker]

As he was neatly hanging up his coat, he said to the others, well,

[George Hollanden]

the rent will be due in four days.

[Pennoyer]

Will it?

[Billy Hawker]

Asked Pennoyer, astounded. Certainly it will, responded Purple with the air of a superior financial man. My soul, said Wrinkles. Oh, shut up, Purple, said Grief.

[Great Grief]

You make me weary, coming around here with your chin about rent. I was just getting happy.

[George Hollanden]

Well, how are we going to pay it?

[Billy Hawker]

That's the point, said Sanderson. Wrinkles sank deeper in his chair and played despondently on his guitar. Grief cast a look of rage at Sanderson and then stared at the wall. Pennoyer said, well, we might borrow it from Billy Hawker. Florinda laughed then. Oh, continued Pennoyer hastily If those amazement

[Pennoyer]

people pay me when they said they would, I'll have the money.

[Billy Hawker]

So you will, said Grief.

[Great Grief]

You'll have money to burn. Did the amazement people ever pay you when they said they would? You are wonderfully important all of a sudden. It seems to me you talk like an artist.

[Billy Hawker]

Wrinkles, too, smiled at Pennoyer.

[Wrinkles]

The eminent magazine people wanted Penny to hire models and make a try for them too. It would only cost him a stack of blows. By the time he has invested all his money he hasn't got, and the rent is three weeks overdue, he will be able to tell the landlord to wait seven months until the Monday morning after the day of publication. Go ahead, Penny.

[Billy Hawker]

After a period of silence, Sanderson, in an obstinate manner, said, well, what's to be done?

[George Hollanden]

The rent has got to be paid.

[Billy Hawker]

Wrinkles played more sad music. Grief frowned deeper. Pennoyer was evidently searching his mind for a plan. Florinda took the cigarette from between her lips that she might grin with greater freedom. We might throw Purple out, said Grief with an inspired air that would stop all this discussion. You, said Sanderson furiously.

[George Hollanden]

You can't keep Sirius a minute. If you didn't have us to take care of you, you wouldn't even know when they threw you out into the street.

[Great Grief]

Wouldn't I?

[Billy Hawker]

Said Grief. Well, look here, interposed Florinda.

[Florinda O'Connor]

I'm going home. Unless you can be more interesting, I'm dead sorry about the rent, but I can't help it. And here, sit down.

[Pennoyer]

Hold on, Splutter.

[Billy Hawker]

They shouted. Grief turned to Sanderson purple.

[Great Grief]

You shut up.

[Billy Hawker]

Florinda curled again on the divan and lit another cigarette. The talk waged about the names of other and more successful painters whose work they usually pronounced rotten. End of chapter 20. Chapter 21 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 21 Pennoyer, Coming Home one morning with two gigantic cakes to accompany the coffee at the breakfast in the den, saw a young man bounce from a horse car. He gave a shout.

[Pennoyer]

Hello there, Billee. Hello.

[Billy Hawker]

Hello, Penny, said Hawker.

[George Hollanden]

What are you doing out so early?

[Billy Hawker]

It was somewhat after 9 o'. Clock. Out to get breakfast, Said Pennoyer, waving the cakes.

[Pennoyer]

Have a good time, old man?

[George Hollanden]

Great.

[Pennoyer]

Do much work?

[George Hollanden]

No, not so much. How are all the people?

[Pennoyer]

Oh, pretty good. Come in and see us eat breakfast,

[Billy Hawker]

said Pennoyer, throwing open the door of the den. Wrinkles in his shirt was making coffee. Grief sat in a chair, trying to loosen the grasp of sleep.

[Great Grief]

Why, Billy La orca.

[Wrinkles]

But ginger.

[Billy Hawker]

They cried.

[George Hollanden]

How's the wolf, boys? At the door yet?

[Great Grief]

At the door yet. He's half way up the back stairs and coming fast. He and the landlord will be here to Morrow. Mr. Landlord, allow me to present Mr. F. Wolfe of Hunger NJ Mr. Wolf. Mr. Landlord.

[George Hollanden]

Bad as that?

[Billy Hawker]

Said Hawker.

[Wrinkles]

You bet it is. Easy, straight. There's somewhere in heaven for all we know. Have some breakfast. Coffee and cake, I mean.

[George Hollanden]

No thanks. Boys had breakfast, wrinkles added to the shirt.

[Billy Hawker]

Grief aroused himself and Pennoyer brought the coffee cheerfully throwing some drawings from the table to the floor. They thus made room for the breakfast and grouped themselves with beaming smiles at the board.

[Wrinkles]

Well, Billy, come back to the old gang again, eh? How did the country seem? Too much work?

[George Hollanden]

Not very much. A few things. How's everybody?

[Great Grief]

Splutter was in last night, looking out of sight. Seemed glad to hear that you were coming back soon.

[George Hollanden]

Did she? Penny, did anybody call wanting me to do a ten thousand dollar portrait for them?

[Pennoyer]

No. That framemaker though was here with Bill. I told him afterward.

[Billy Hawker]

Hocker crossed the corridor and threw open the door of his own large studio. The great skylight far above his head shed its clear rays upon a scene which appeared to indicate that someone had very recently ceased work here and started for the country. A distant closet was open and the interior showed the effects of a sudden pillage. There was an unfinished girl in apple orchard upon the tall Dutch easel and sketches and studies were thick upon the floor. Hawker took a pipe and filled it from his friend, the tan and gold jar. He cast himself into a chair and taking an envelope from his pocket, emptied two violets from it to the palm of his hand and stared long at them upon the walls of the studio. Various labors of his life in heavy gilt frames contemplated him and the violets. At last Pennoyer burst impetuously in upon him.

[Pennoyer]

Hi, Billy, come over and what's the matter?

[Billy Hawker]

Hastily placed the violets in the envelope and hurried it to his pocket. Nothing, he answered. Why, I thought, said Pennoyer.

[Pennoyer]

I thought you looked rather rattled. Didn't you have? I thought I saw something in your hand.

[George Hollanden]

Nothing, I tell you.

[Billy Hawker]

Cried Hawker.

[Pennoyer]

Er, I beg your pardon, said Pennoyer. Why, I was going to tell you that Splutter is over in our place and she wants to see you.

[George Hollanden]

Wants to see me? What for?

[Billy Hawker]

Demanded Hawker.

[George Hollanden]

Why don't you come over here then?

[Billy Hawker]

I'm sure I don't know, replied Pennoyer.

[Pennoyer]

She sent me to call you.

[George Hollanden]

Well, do you think I'M going to. Oh, well, I suppose she wants to be unpleasant and knows she loses a certain mental position if she comes over here. But if she meets me in your place, she can be as infernally disagreeable as she. That's it. I'll bet.

[Billy Hawker]

When they entered the den, Florinda was gazing from the window. Her back was toward the door. At last she turned to them, holding herself very straight. Well, Billy Hawker, she said grimly, you

[Florinda O'Connor]

don't seem very glad to see a fellow.

[George Hollanden]

Why, heavens, did you think I was going to turn somersaults in the air?

[Florinda O'Connor]

Well, you didn't come out when you

[Billy Hawker]

heard me pass your door, said Florinda with gloomy resentment. Hocker appeared to be ruffled and vexed. Oh, great Scott, he said, making a gesture of despair. Florinda returned to the window. In the ensuing conversation she took no part sitting, save when there was an opportunity to harry some speech of Hawker's, which she did in short, contemptuous sentences. Hocker made no reply, save to glare in her direction. At last he said, well, I must

[George Hollanden]

go over and do some work.

[Billy Hawker]

Florinda did not turn from the window.

[George Hollanden]

Well, so long, boys, said Hawker. I'll see you later.

[Billy Hawker]

As the door slammed, Pennoyer apologetically said,

[Pennoyer]

billee is a trifle off his feet this morning.

[Great Grief]

What about?

[Billy Hawker]

Asked Grief.

[Pennoyer]

I don't know, but when I went to call him, he was sitting deep in his chair, staring at some.

[Billy Hawker]

He looked at Florinda and became silent.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Staring at what?

[Billy Hawker]

Asked Florinda, turning then from the window. Pennoyer seemed embarrassed.

[Pennoyer]

Why, I don't know. Nothing, I guess. I couldn't see very well. I was only fooling.

[Billy Hawker]

Florinda scanned his face suspiciously, staring at what? She demanded imperatively.

[Pennoyer]

Nothing, I tell you.

[Billy Hawker]

Shouted Pennoyer. Florinda looked at him and wavered and debated. Presently she said softly, aw, go on, Penny, tell me.

[Pennoyer]

It wasn't anything at all.

[Billy Hawker]

I say, Cried Pennoyer stoutly, I was

[Pennoyer]

only giving you a jolly Sit down, Splutter, and hit a cigarette.

[Billy Hawker]

She obeyed, but she continued to cast the dubious eye at Pennoyer. Once she said to him privately, go

[Florinda O'Connor]

on, Penny, tell me. I know it was something from the way you are acting.

[Pennoyer]

Ah, let up, Splutter, for heaven's sake, tell me.

[Billy Hawker]

Beseeched Florinda.

[Florinda O'Connor]

No, tell me. No, please tell me.

[Pennoyer]

No.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Oh, go on.

[Pennoyer]

No.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Ah, what makes you so mean, Penny? You know. I tell you, if it was the other way about.

[Pennoyer]

But it's none of my business, Splutter. I can't Tell you something which is Billy Hawker's private affair. If I did, I would be a chump.

[Florinda O'Connor]

But I'll never say you told me. Go on.

[Pennoyer]

No.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Please tell me.

[Pennoyer]

No.

[Billy Hawker]

End of chapter 21. Chapter 22 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 22 When Florinda had gone, Grief

[Great Grief]

said, well, what was it?

[Billy Hawker]

Wrinkles looked curiously from his drawing board. Pennyer lit his pipe and held it at the side of his mouth in the manner of a deliberate man. At last he said it was too Violets. You don't sigh, ejaculated Wrinkles.

[Great Grief]

Well, I'm hanged.

[Billy Hawker]

Cried Grief, holding them in his hand

[Great Grief]

and moping over them.

[Wrinkles]

Eh?

[Billy Hawker]

Yes, responded Pennoyer.

[Pennoyer]

Rather that way.

[Billy Hawker]

Well on hand, said both Grief and Wrinkles. They grinned in a pleased urchin like manner.

[Great Grief]

Say, who do you suppose she is? Somebody he met this summer, no doubt. Would you ever think old Billy would get into that sort of a thing? Well, I'll be gold earned.

[Billy Hawker]

Ultimately, Wrinkles said, well, it's his own business. This was spoken in a tone of duty. Of course it's his own business, retorted Grief.

[Great Grief]

But who would ever think again?

[Billy Hawker]

They grinned. When Hawker entered the den some minutes later he might have noticed something unusual in the general demeanor.

[George Hollanden]

Say, Grief, will you loan me your. What's up?

[Billy Hawker]

He asked. For answer. They grinned at each other and then grinned at him.

[George Hollanden]

You look like a lot of chessy

[Billy Hawker]

cats, he told them. They grinned on. Apparently feeling unable to deal with these phenomena, he went at last to the door.

[George Hollanden]

Well, this is a fine exhibition, he

[Billy Hawker]

said, standing with his hand on the

[George Hollanden]

knob and regarding them won election bets. Some good old auntie just died. Found something new to pawn? No. Well, I can't stand this. You resemble those fish they discover at deep sea. Good bye.

[Billy Hawker]

As he opened the door, they cried

[Pennoyer]

out, hold on, Billy.

[Wrinkles]

Billy, look here.

[Great Grief]

Say, who is she?

[George Hollanden]

What?

[Billy Hawker]

Who is she?

[George Hollanden]

Who is who?

[Billy Hawker]

They laughed and nodded.

[Wrinkles]

Why, you know she.

[Pennoyer]

Don't you understand?

[Florinda O'Connor]

She.

[George Hollanden]

You talk like a lot of crazy men, said Hawker. I don't know what you mean.

[Wrinkles]

Oh, you don't, eh? You don't? Oh no.

[Pennoyer]

How about those violets you were moping over this morning, eh, old man?

[Great Grief]

Oh no. You don't know what we mean. Oh no.

[Wrinkles]

How about those violets, eh? How about em.

[Billy Hawker]

Hocker, with a flushed and wrathful face, looked at Pennoyer Penny. But Grief and Wrinkles roared an interruption.

[Wrinkles]

Ho ho, Mr. Hawker. So it's true, is it? It's true.

[Great Grief]

You are a nice bird, you are. Well, you old rascal.

[Wrinkles]

Darn your picture.

[Billy Hawker]

Hawker, menacing them once with his eyes, went away, they said, sat cackling. At noon, when he met Wrinkles in the corridor, he said, hey, Wrinkles, come

[George Hollanden]

here for a minute, will you? Say, old man, I what?

[Billy Hawker]

Said Wrinkles.

[George Hollanden]

Well, you know, I, of course, every man is likely to make an accursed idiot of himself once in a while. And I.

[Wrinkles]

And you what?

[Billy Hawker]

Asked Wrinkles.

[George Hollanden]

Well, we are a kind of a band of hoodlums, you know, and I'm just enough idiot to feel that I don't care to hear. Don't care to hear. Well, her name used, you know.

[Billy Hawker]

Bless your heart, replied Wrinkles.

[Wrinkles]

We haven't used her name. We don't know her name. How could we use it?

[Billy Hawker]

Well, I know, said Hawker, but you

[George Hollanden]

understand what I mean, Wrinkles.

[Billy Hawker]

Yes, I understand what you mean, said Wrinkles with dignity.

[Wrinkles]

I don't suppose you are any worse of a stuff than common. Still, I don't know that we were such outlaws.

[George Hollanden]

Of course I have overdone the thing,

[Billy Hawker]

responded Hocker hastily, but you ought to

[George Hollanden]

understand how I mean it. Wrinkles.

[Billy Hawker]

After Wrinkles had thought for a time,

[Wrinkles]

he said, well, I guess I do all right, that goes.

[Billy Hawker]

Upon entering the den, Wrinkles said, you

[Wrinkles]

fellows have got to quit guying, Billy, do you hear?

[Billy Hawker]

We cried Grief.

[Great Grief]

We've got to quit. What do you do?

[Wrinkles]

Well, I quit, too.

[Billy Hawker]

Aha.

[Pennoyer]

Billy has been jumping on you.

[Billy Hawker]

No, he didn't, maintained Wrinkles, but he

[Wrinkles]

let me know it was, well, rather a rather a secret subject.

[Billy Hawker]

Wrinkles blushed when the others snickered. In the afternoon, as Hawker was going slowly down the stairs, he was almost impaled upon the feather of a hat, which upon the head of a lithe and rather slight girl charged up at him through the gloom.

[George Hollanden]

Hello, Splutter.

[Billy Hawker]

He cried.

[George Hollanden]

You are in a hurry.

[Florinda O'Connor]

That you, Billy?

[Billy Hawker]

Said the girl, peering for the hallways of this old building, remained always in a dungeon like darkness.

[George Hollanden]

Yes, it is. Where are you going at such a headlong gait?

[Florinda O'Connor]

Up to see the boys. I've got a bottle of wine and some. Some pickles, you know. I'm going to make them let me dine with them tonight. Coming back, Billee?

[George Hollanden]

Why, no, I don't expect to.

[Billy Hawker]

He moved then accidentally in front of the light that sifted through the dull gray panes of a little window.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Oh, cracky.

[Billy Hawker]

Cried the girl.

[Florinda O'Connor]

How fine you are, Billee. Going to a coronation?

[Billy Hawker]

No, said Hawker, looking seriously over his collar and down at his clothes.

[George Hollanden]

Fact is, er. Well, I've got to make a call.

[Florinda O'Connor]

A call? Bless us. Are you really going to wear those gray gloves you're holding there, Billy? Say, wait until you get around the corner. They won't stand em on this street.

[Billy Hawker]

Oh, well, said Hawker, depreciating the gloves.

[George Hollanden]

Oh well.

[Billy Hawker]

The girl looked at him.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Who you going to call on?

[Billy Hawker]

Oh, said Hawker, a friend.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Must be somebody most extraordinary. You look so dreadfully correct. Come back, Billy. Won't you come back and dine with us?

[George Hollanden]

Why, I. I don't believe I can.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Oh, come on, it's fun when we all dine together. Won't you, Billy? Well, I. Oh, don't be so stupid.

[Billy Hawker]

The girl stamped her foot and flashed her eyes at him angrily.

[George Hollanden]

Well, I'll see. I will if I can. I can't tell.

[Billy Hawker]

He left her rather precipitately. Hawker eventually appeared at a certain austere house where he rang the bell with quite nervous fingers. But she was not at home. As he went down the steps, his eyes were those of a man whose fortunes have tumbled upon him. As he walked down the street he wore in some subtle way the air of a man who had been grievously wronged. When he rounded the corner, his lips were set strangely, as if he were a man seeking revenge. Chapter 22. Chapter 23 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 23 it's just right, said Grief.

[Wrinkles]

It isn't quite cool enough, said Wrinkles.

[Great Grief]

Well, I guess I know the proper temperature for claret.

[Wrinkles]

Well, I guess you don't. If it was buttermilk now, you would know. But you can't tell anything about claret.

[Billy Hawker]

Florinda ultimately decided the question.

[Florinda O'Connor]

It isn't quite cool enough, she said,

[Billy Hawker]

laying her hand on the bottle.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Put it on the window ledge. Grief.

[Great Grief]

Humph, Splutter. I thought you knew more than.

[Pennoyer]

Oh, shut up.

[Billy Hawker]

Interposed the busy Pennoyer from a remote corner.

[Pennoyer]

Who is going after the potato salad? That's what I want to know. Who is going?

[Billy Hawker]

Wrinkles, said Grief. Grief, said Wrinkles. There, said Pennoyer, coming forward and scanning a late work with an eye of satisfaction.

[Pennoyer]

There's the three glasses and the little tumbler. And then, Grief, you will have to drink out of a mug.

[Billy Hawker]

I'll be double dyed black if I will, cried Grief.

[Great Grief]

I wouldn't drink claret out of a mug to save my soul from being pinched.

[Pennoyer]

You duffer. You talk like a blue and British chump on whom the sun Never sets. What do you want?

[Great Grief]

Well, there's enough without that. What's the matter with you? Three glasses and the little Tumbler.

[Pennoyer]

Yes, but if Billy Hawker comes, well,

[Great Grief]

let him drink out of the mug then.

[Billy Hawker]

No, he won't, said Florinda suddenly.

[Florinda O'Connor]

I'll take the mug myself.

[Billy Hawker]

All right, Splutter, rejoined Grief meekly.

[Great Grief]

I'll keep the mug. But still I don't see why. Billy Hawker.

[Billy Hawker]

I shall take the mug, reiterated Florinda firmly.

[Great Grief]

But I don't see why.

[Billy Hawker]

Let her alone, Grief, said Wrinkles.

[Wrinkles]

She has decided that it is heroic. You can't move her now.

[Pennoyer]

Well, who is going for the potato salad?

[Billy Hawker]

Cried Pennoya again.

[Pennoyer]

That's what I want to know.

[Billy Hawker]

Wrinkles, said Grief.

[Wrinkles]

Grief.

[Billy Hawker]

Said Wrinkles.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Do you know?

[Billy Hawker]

Remarked Florinda, raising her head from where she had been toiling over the spaghetti,

[Florinda O'Connor]

I don't care so much for Billy Hawker as I once did.

[Billy Hawker]

Her sleeves were rolled above the elbows of her wonderful arms, and she turned from the stove and poised a fork as if she had been smitten at her task. With this inspiration there was a short silence, and then Wrinkle said politely, no, no, continued Florinda. I really don't believe I do, she suddenly said, started.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Listen, isn't that him coming now?

[Billy Hawker]

The dull trample of a step could be heard in some distant corridor, but it died slowly to silence.

[Florinda O'Connor]

I thought that might be him, she

[Billy Hawker]

said, turning to the spaghetti again.

[Pennoyer]

I hope the old Indian comes, said

[Billy Hawker]

Pennoyer, but I don't believe he will.

[Pennoyer]

Seems to me he must be going to see.

[Mary (younger Hawker sister)]

Who?

[Billy Hawker]

Asked Florinda.

[Pennoyer]

Well, you know, Hollanden and he usually dine together when they are both in town.

[Billy Hawker]

Florinda looked at Pennoyer.

[Florinda O'Connor]

I know, Penny. You must have thought I was remarkably clever not to understand all your blundering. But I don't care so much. Really I don't.

[Billy Hawker]

Of course not, assented Pennoyer.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Really I don't.

[Pennoyer]

Of course not.

[Great Grief]

Listen.

[Billy Hawker]

Exclaimed Grief, who was near the door.

[Great Grief]

There he comes now.

[Billy Hawker]

Somebody approached, whistling an air from Traviata which rang loud and clear and low and muffled as the whistler wound among the intricate hallways. This air was as much a part of Hawker as his coat. The spaghetti had arrived at a critical stage stage. Florinda gave it her complete attention. When Hawker opened the door, he ceased whistling and said gruffly, hello. Just the man, said Grief.

[Great Grief]

Go after the potato salad, will you, Billy? There's a good boy. Wrinkles has refused.

[Florinda O'Connor]

He can't carry the salad with those gloves.

[Billy Hawker]

Interrupted Florinda, raising her eyes from her work and contemplating them with displeasure.

[George Hollanden]

Hang the gloves.

[Billy Hawker]

Cried Hawker, dragging them from his hands and hurling them at the divan.

[George Hollanden]

What's the matter with you?

[Billy Hawker]

Splutter Pennoyer said.

[Pennoyer]

Oh, my, what a temper you are in, Billy.

[Billy Hawker]

I am, replied Hawker.

[George Hollanden]

I feel like an Apache. Where did you get this accursed potato salad?

[Pennoyer]

In Second Avenue. You know where. At the old place.

[Billy Hawker]

No, I don't, snapped Talker.

[Pennoyer]

Why here?

[Billy Hawker]

Said Florinda.

[Florinda O'Connor]

I'll go.

[Billy Hawker]

She had already rolled down her sleeves and was arraying herself in her hat and jacket. No, you won't, said Hawker, filled with wrath.

[George Hollanden]

I'll go myself.

[Florinda O'Connor]

We can both go, Billy, if you

[Billy Hawker]

are so bent, replied the girl in a conciliatory voice.

[George Hollanden]

Well, come on then. What are you standing there for?

[Billy Hawker]

When these two had departed Wrinkles said,

[Wrinkles]

lordy, what's wrong with Billy?

[Great Grief]

He's been discussing art with some pot

[Billy Hawker]

boiler, said Grief, speaking as if this was the final condition of human misery. No, sir, said Pennoyer.

[Pennoyer]

It's something connected with the now celebrated violence.

[Billy Hawker]

Out in the corridor, Florinda said, what?

[Florinda O'Connor]

What makes you so ugly, Billy?

[George Hollanden]

Why, I am not ugly, am I?

[Florinda O'Connor]

Yes, you are. Ugly as anything.

[Billy Hawker]

Probably he saw a grievance in her eyes, for he said, well, I don't

[George Hollanden]

want to be ugly.

[Billy Hawker]

His tone seemed tender. The halls were intensely dark, and the girl placed her hand on his arm. As they rounded a turn in the stairs, a straying lock of her hair brushed against his temple. Oh, said Florinda in a low voice, we'll get some more claret, observed Hocker, musingly.

[George Hollanden]

And some cognac for the coffee and some cigarettes. Do you think of anything? More splutter.

[Billy Hawker]

As they came from the shop of the illustrious purveyors of potato salad in Second Avenue, Florinda cried anxiously, Here, Billy,

[Florinda O'Connor]

you let me carry that.

[George Hollanden]

What infernal nonsense.

[Billy Hawker]

Said Hawker, flushing.

[George Hollanden]

Certainly not.

[Billy Hawker]

Well, protested Florinda, it might soil your gloves somehow.

[George Hollanden]

In heaven's name, what if it does? Say, young woman, do you think I am one of those Cholly boys?

[Florinda O'Connor]

No, Billee. But then, you know.

[George Hollanden]

Well, if you don't take me for some kind of a willie, give us peace on this blasted glove business.

[Florinda O'Connor]

I didn't mean.

[George Hollanden]

Well, you've been intimating that I've got the only pair of gray gloves in the universe. But you are wrong. There are several pairs, and these need not be preserved as unique in history.

[Florinda O'Connor]

They're not gray.

[George Hollanden]

They are gray. I suppose your distinguished ancestors in Ireland did not educate their families in the matter of gloves, and so you are not expected to, Billy. You are not expected to believe that people wear gloves only in cold weather, and then you expect to see mittens

[Billy Hawker]

on the stairs in the darkness. He suddenly exclaimed, here, look out or you'll fall. He reached for her arm, but she evaded him. Later, he said again, look out, girl.

[George Hollanden]

What makes you stumble around so? Here, give me the bottle of wine. I can carry it all right. There now. Can you manage?

[Billy Hawker]

Chapter 23. Chapter 24 of the third Violet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 24 Penny, said grief, looking across the table at his friend, if a

[Great Grief]

man thinks a heap of two violets, how much would he think of a thousand violets?

[Pennoyer]

Two into a thousand goes five hundred times.

[Billy Hawker]

You fool, said Pennoyer.

[Pennoyer]

I would answer your question if it were not upon a forbidden subject.

[Billy Hawker]

In the distance, Wrinkles and Florinda were making Welsh rarebits.

[George Hollanden]

Hold your tongues, said Hawker.

[Billy Hawker]

Barbarians, Grief, said Pennnoyer.

[Pennoyer]

If a man loves a woman better than the whole universe, how much does he love the whole universe?

[Billy Hawker]

God knows, said Grief piously, although it ill befits me. To answer your question, Wrinkles and Florinda came with the Welsh rarebits, very triumphant. There, said Florinda.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Soon as these are finished, I must go home. It is after 11 o'. Clock. Pour the ale, Grief.

[Billy Hawker]

At a later time, Purple Sanderson entered from the world. He hung up his hat and cast a look of proper financial dissatisfaction at the remnants of the feast.

[Pennoyer]

Who has been before you breathe, Purple, you graceless scum, let me tell you that we will stand no reference to

[Billy Hawker]

the two violets here, said Pennoyer.

[Major]

What the.

[Billy Hawker]

Oh, that's all right, Purple, said Grief.

[Great Grief]

But you were going to say something about the two violets right then, weren't you now, you old bat?

[Billy Hawker]

Sanderson grinned expectantly.

[Major]

What's to growl?

[Billy Hawker]

Said he. No row at all, they told him.

[Great Grief]

Just an agreement to keep you from chattering obstinately about the two violets.

[Hollanden]

What do violets have?

[Billy Hawker]

A rabbit, Purple, advised Wrinkles.

[Wrinkles]

Never mind those maniacs.

[George Hollanden]

Well, what is this business about two violets?

[Wrinkles]

Oh, it's just some dream. They gibber at anything.

[Billy Hawker]

I think I know, said Florinda, nodding.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Is it something that concerns Billy Hawker?

[Billy Hawker]

Grief and Pennoyer scoff and Wrinkles said,

[Wrinkles]

you know nothing about it, Splutter. It doesn't concern Billy Orca at all.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Well then, what is he looking sideways for?

[Billy Hawker]

Cried Florinda Wrinkles reached for his guitar and played a serenade.

[Wrinkles]

The silver moon is shining.

[Billy Hawker]

Dry up, said Pennoyer. Then Florinda cried again.

[Florinda O'Connor]

What does he look sideways for?

[Billy Hawker]

Pennoyer, in grief, giggled at the imperturbable Hawker, who destroyed Rarebit in silence.

[George Hollanden]

It's you, is it, Billee?

[Billy Hawker]

Said Sanderson.

[George Hollanden]

You are in this too, Violet business. I don't know what they're talking about, replied Hawker.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Don't you honestly?

[Billy Hawker]

Asked Florinda. Well, only a little there, said Florinda, nodding again.

[Florinda O'Connor]

I knew he was in it.

[Billy Hawker]

He isn't in at all, said Pennoyer, in grief. Later, when the cigarettes had become exhausted, Hawker volunteered to go after a further supply, and as he arose, a question seemed to come to the edge of Florinda's lips and pinned there. The moment that the door was closed upon him, she demanded, what is that

[Florinda O'Connor]

about the two violets?

[Billy Hawker]

Nothing all, answered Pennoyer, apparently much aggrieved. He sat back with an air of being a fortress of reticence.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Oh, go on, tell me, Penny. I think you are very mean, Grief.

[Wrinkles]

You tell me the silver moon is shining. Oh, come, my love, to me, my heart.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Be still, Wrinkles, will you? What was it, Grief? Oh, go ahead and tell me.

[Great Grief]

What do you want to know for?

[Billy Hawker]

Cried Grief, vastly exasperated.

[Great Grief]

You've got more blamed curiosity. It isn't anything at all, I keep saying to you.

[Billy Hawker]

Well, I know it is, said Florinda sullenly, or you would tell me. When Hawker brought the cigarettes, Florinda smoked one and then announced, well, I must go now.

[George Hollanden]

Who is going to take you home, Splutter?

[Billy Hawker]

Oh, anyone, replied Florinda. I'll tell you what, said Grief.

[Great Grief]

We'll throw some poker hands, and the one who wins will have the distinguished honor of conveying Ms. Splutter to her home and mother.

[Billy Hawker]

Pennoya and Wrinkles speedily routed the dishes to one end of the table. Grief's fingers spun the halves of a pack of cards together with the pleased eagerness of a good player. The faces grew solemn with the gambling solemnity. Now, you Indians, said Grief, dealing a

[Great Grief]

draw, you understand, and then a showdown.

[Billy Hawker]

Florinda leaned forward in her chair until it was poised on two legs. The cards of purple Sanderson and of Hawker were faced toward her. Sanderson was gravely regarding two pair aces and queens. Hawker scanned a little pair of sevens.

[Florinda O'Connor]

They draw, don't they?

[Billy Hawker]

She said to Grief. Certainly, said Grief.

[Great Grief]

How many, Rink?

[Billy Hawker]

Four, replied Wrinkles plaintively. Gimme three, said Pennoyer. Gimme one, said Sanderson, gimme three, said Hawker. When he picked up his hand again, Florinda's chair was tilted perilously. She saw another seven added to the little pair. Sanderson's draw had not assisted him. Same to the dealer, said Grief.

[Great Grief]

What you got, Rink?

[Billy Hawker]

Nothing, said Wrinkles, exhibiting it face upward on the table.

[Wrinkles]

Good bye, Florinda.

[Billy Hawker]

Well, I've got two small pair, ventured Pennoyer, hopefully. Beat em. No good, said Sanderson.

[George Hollanden]

Two pair, aces up. No good, said Hawker. Three sevens.

[Billy Hawker]

Beats me, said Grief.

[Great Grief]

Billy, you are the fortunate man. Heaven guide you.

[Billy Hawker]

In 3rd Avenue Florinda had gone to the window.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Who won?

[Billy Hawker]

She asked, wheeling about carelessly.

[Great Grief]

Billy Hawker.

[Florinda O'Connor]

What did he?

[Billy Hawker]

She said in surprise.

[Pennoyer]

Never mind, splutter.

[Billy Hawker]

I'll win sometime, said Pennoyer. Me too, cried Grief.

[Wrinkles]

Good night, old girl, said said Wrinkles.

[Billy Hawker]

They crowded in the doorway.

[Pennoyer]

Hold on to Billy. Remember the two steps going up.

[Billy Hawker]

Pennoyer called intelligently into the stygian blackness.

[Pennoyer]

Can you see all right?

[Billy Hawker]

Florinda lived in a flat with fire escapes written all over the front of it. The street in front was being repaired. It had been said by imbecile residents of the vicinity that the paving was never allowed to remain down for a sufficient time to be invalidated by the tramping millions, but that it was kept perpetually stacked in little mountains through the unceasing vigilance of a virtuous and heroic city government which insisted that everything should be repaired. The alderman of the district had sometimes asked indignantly of his fellow members why this street had not been repaired, and they aroused, had at once ordered it to be repaired. Moreover, shopkeepers whose stables were adjacent placed trucks and other vehicles strategically in the darkness. Into this tangled midnight Hawker conducted Florinda. The great avenue behind them was no more than a level stream of yellow light, and the distant merry bells might have been boats floating down it. Grim loneliness hung over the uncouth shapes in the street which was being repaired. Billee, said the girl suddenly, what makes

[Florinda O'Connor]

you so mean to me?

[Billy Hawker]

A peaceful citizen emerged from behind a pile of debris. But he might not have been a peaceful citizen, so the girl clung to Hawker.

[George Hollanden]

Why, I'm not mean to you, am I?

[Billy Hawker]

Yes, she answered as they stood on the steps of the flat of innumerable fire escapes. She slowly turned and looked up at him. Her face was of a strange pallor in this darkness, and her eyes were as when the moon shines in the lake of the hills. He returned her glance.

[George Hollanden]

Florinda.

[Billy Hawker]

He cried, as if enlightened and gulping suddenly at something in his throat. The girl studied the steps and moved from side to side, as do the guilty ones in country schoolhouses. Then she went slowly into the flat. There was a little red lamp hanging on a pile of stones to warn people that the Stranger street was being repaired. End of chapter 24. Chapter 25 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 25

[Great Grief]

I'll get my cheque from

[Billy Hawker]

the Gammon on Saturday, said Grief.

[Great Grief]

They bought that string of comics.

[Wrinkles]

Well, then, we'll arrange the present funds to last until Saturday noon, said Wrinkles. That gives us quite a lot. We can have a table dote. On Friday night, however, the cashier of

[Billy Hawker]

the Gamin office looked under his respectable brass wiring and said, Very sorry, Mr. Warwickson, but our payday is Monday. Come around any time after 10. Oh, it doesn't matter, said Grief. When he plunged into the den, his visage flamed with rage.

[Great Grief]

Don't get my check until Monday morning.

[Billy Hawker]

Anytime after 10, he yelled, and flung a portfolio of mottled green into the danger zone of the Cass. Thunder, said Pennoyer, sinking at once into a profound despair.

[Wrinkles]

Monday morning, any time after 10, murmured

[Billy Hawker]

Wrinkles in astonishment and sorrow. While Grief marched to and fro, threatening the furniture, penoir and Wrinkles allowed their under jaws to fall and remained as men smitten between the eyes. By the God of Calamity,

[Pennoyer]

singular thing,

[Billy Hawker]

Muttered Pennoyer at last.

[Pennoyer]

You get so frightfully hungry as soon as you learn that there are no more meals coming.

[Billy Hawker]

Oh, well, said Wrinkles. He took up his guitar.

[Wrinkles]

Oh, some folks say dat a nigger won't steal Way down yonder in de cone feel, But I caught two in my cone feel Way down yonder in de cone feel.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Oh, let up.

[Billy Hawker]

Said Grief, as if unwilling to be moved from his despair.

[Pennoyer]

Oh, let up.

[Billy Hawker]

Said Pennoyer, as if he disliked the voice and the ballad. In his studio, Hawker sat braced nervously forward on a little stool before his tall Dutch easel. Three sketches lay on the floor near him, and he glared at them constantly while painting at the large canvas on the easel. He seemed engaged in some kind of a duel, his hair dishevelled, his eyes gleaming. He was in a deadly scuffle. In the sketches was the landscape of heavy blue, as if seen through powder smoke, and all the skies burned red. There was in these notes a sinister quality of hopelessness, eloquent of a defeat, as if the scene represented the last hours on a field of disastrous battle. Hocker seemed attacking with this picture, something fair and beautiful of his own life, a possession of his mind. And he did it fiercely, mercilessly, formidably. His arm moved with the energy of a strange wrath he might have been thrusting with a sword. There was a knock at the door.

[George Hollanden]

Come in.

[Billy Hawker]

Pennoyer entered sheepishly.

[George Hollanden]

Well.

[Billy Hawker]

Cried Hocker, with an echo of savagery in his voice. He turned from the canvas precisely as one might emerge from a fight.

[George Hollanden]

Oh.

[Billy Hawker]

He said, perceiving Pennoyer. The glow in his eyes slowly changed. What is it, Penny Billee, said Pennoyer.

[Pennoyer]

Grief was to get his cheque today, but they put him off until Monday. And so, you know. Well.

[Billy Hawker]

Oh, said Hawker again. When Pennoyer had gone, Hawker sat motionless before his work. He stared at the canvas in a meditation so profound that it was probably unconscious of itself. The light from above his head slanted more and more toward the east. Once he arose and lighted a pipe, he returned to the easel and stood staring. With his hands in his pockets. He moved like one in a sleep. Suddenly the gleam shot into his eyes again. He dropped the stool and grabbed a brush. At the end of a certain long, tumultuous period, he clenched his pipe more firmly in his teeth and puffed strongly. The thought might have occurred to him that it was not a light, for he looked at it with a vague, questioning glance. There came another knock at the door.

[George Hollanden]

Go to the devil.

[Billy Hawker]

He shouted without turning his head. Hollanden crossed the corridor, then to the den.

[Wrinkles]

Hi there, Holland.

[Pennoyer]

Hello, boy. Just the fellow we want to see.

[Wrinkles]

Come in, sit down. Hit a pipe.

[Great Grief]

Say, who was the girl? Billy Hawker went mad over this summer

[Billy Hawker]

blazes, said Hollanden, recovering slowly from this onslaught.

[Hollanden]

What manage you Indians find it out.

[Billy Hawker]

Tumbled, they cried in delight. We tumbled, said Hollanden, reproaching himself.

[Hollanden]

And I thought you were such a lot of blockheads.

[Great Grief]

Oh, we tumbled.

[Billy Hawker]

They cried again in their ecstasy.

[Wrinkles]

But who is she?

[Pennoyer]

That's the point.

[Hollanden]

Well, she was a girl.

[John Harker]

Yes, go on, go on.

[Hollanden]

The New York girl? Yes, a perfectly stunning New York girl.

[Wrinkles]

Yes, go on, go on ahead.

[Hollanden]

A perfectly stunning New York girl of a very wealthy and a rather old fashioned family.

[Wrinkles]

Well, I'll be sure you don't mean it.

[Great Grief]

She's practically seated on top of the Matterhorn.

[Pennoyer]

Poor old Billy.

[Billy Hawker]

Not at all, said Hollanden composedly. It was a common habit of purple Sanderson to call attention at night to the resemblance of the den to some little ward in a hospital. Upon this night, when Sanderson and grief were buried in slumber Pennoyer moved restlessly. Rink, he called softly into the darkness in the direction of the divan, which was still secretly a coal box.

[Wrinkles]

What?

[Billy Hawker]

Said Wrinkles in a surly voice. His mind had evidently been caught at the threshold of sleep.

[Pennoyer]

Do you think Florinda cares much for Billy Hawker?

[Billy Hawker]

Wrinkles fretted through some oaths.

[Wrinkles]

How in thunder do I know?

[Billy Hawker]

The divan creaked as he turned his face to the wall. Well, Muttered Pennoyer. End of chapter 25. Chapter 26 of the third Violet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 26 the Harmony of summer sunlight on leaf and blade of green was not known to the two windows, which looked forth at an obviously endless building of brownstone, about which there was the poetry of a prison. Inside, great folds of lace swept down in orderly casque cascades as water trained to fall. Mathematically, the colossal chandelier, gleaming like a Siamese headdress, caught the subtle flashes from unknown places. Hawker heard a step and the soft swishing of a woman's dress. He turned toward the door swiftly, with a certain dramatic impulsiveness. But when she entered the room, he

[George Hollanden]

said, how delighted I am to see you again.

[Grace Van Hall]

She had said, why, Mr. Hawker, it was so charming in you to come.

[Billy Hawker]

It did not appear that Hawker's tongue could wag to his purpose. The girl seemed in her mind to be frantically shuffling her pack of social receipts and finding none of them made to meet this situation. Finally Hawker said that he thought Hearts at War was a very good play.

[Wrinkles]

Did you?

[Billy Hawker]

She said in surprise.

[Grace Van Hall]

I thought it much like the others.

[George Hollanden]

Well, so did I.

[Billy Hawker]

He cried hastily, the same figures moving

[George Hollanden]

around me in the mud of modern confusion. I really didn't intend to say that I liked it. Fact is, meeting you rather moved me out of my mental track.

[Grace Van Hall]

Mental track?

[Billy Hawker]

She said.

[Grace Van Hall]

I didn't know clever people had mental tracks. I thought it was a privilege of the theologians.

[George Hollanden]

Who told you I was clever?

[Billy Hawker]

He demanded.

[Grace Van Hall]

Why?

[Billy Hawker]

She said, opening her eyes wider.

[Grace Van Hall]

Nobody.

[Billy Hawker]

Hawker smiled and looked upon her with gratitude.

[George Hollanden]

Of course. Nobody. There couldn't be such an idiot. I am sure you should be astonished to learn that I believed such an imbecile existed.

[Billy Hawker]

But, she said.

[George Hollanden]

But I think you might have spoken less bluntly.

[Billy Hawker]

Well, she said, after wavering for a

[Grace Van Hall]

time, you are clever, aren't you?

[Billy Hawker]

Certainly, he answered reassuringly. Well then, she retorted with triumph in her tone, and this interrogation was apparently to her the final victorious argument at his discomfiture. Hocker grinned.

[George Hollanden]

You haven't asked Me? News of Stanley?

[Billy Hawker]

He said.

[George Hollanden]

Why don't you ask news of Stanley?

[Grace Van Hall]

Oh. And how was he?

[George Hollanden]

The last I saw of him, he stood down at the end of the pasture. The pasture? You know, wagging his tail in blissful anticipation of an invitation to come with me. And when it finally dawned upon him that he was not to receive it, he turned and went back toward the house like a man suddenly stricken with age, as the storytellers eloquently say. Poor old dog.

[Billy Hawker]

And you've left him, she said reproachfully.

[Grace Van Hall]

Then she asked, do you remember how he amused you playing with the ants at the falls?

[George Hollanden]

No.

[Grace Van Hall]

Why? He did. He pawed at the moss and you sat there laughing. I remember it distinctly.

[George Hollanden]

You remember distinctly? Why, I thought. Well, your back was turned, you know. Your gaze was fixed upon something before you, and you were utterly lost to the rest of the world. You could not have known if Stanley pawed the moss and I laughed. So you see, you are mistaken. As a matter of fact, I utterly deny that Stanley pawed the moss or that I laughed, or that any ants appeared at the falls at all.

[Grace Van Hall]

I have always said that you should have been a Chinese soldier of fortune, she observed musingly. Your daring and ingenuity would be prized by the Chinese.

[George Hollanden]

There are innumerable tobacco jars in China,

[Billy Hawker]

he said, measuring the advantages.

[George Hollanden]

Moreover, there is no perspective. You don't have to walk two miles to see a friend. No, he is always there, near you, so that you can't move a chair without hitting your distant friend.

[Grace Van Hall]

Did Holly remain as attentive as ever to the Worcester girls?

[George Hollanden]

Yes, of course. As attentive as ever. He dragged me into all manner of tennis games.

[Grace Van Hall]

Why, I thought you loved to play tennis.

[Billy Hawker]

Oh, well, said Haker.

[George Hollanden]

I did until you left.

[Grace Van Hall]

My sister has gone to the park with the children. I know she will be vexed when she finds that you have called.

[Billy Hawker]

Ultimately, Hawker said, do you remember our

[George Hollanden]

ride behind my father's oxen?

[Grace Van Hall]

No, she answered, I had forgotten it completely. Did we ride behind your father's oxen?

[Billy Hawker]

After a moment he said, that remark

[George Hollanden]

would be prized by the Chinese. We did. And you most graciously professed to enjoy it, which earned my deep gratitude and admiration, for no one knows better than

[Billy Hawker]

I, he added meekly, that it is

[George Hollanden]

no great comfort or pleasure to ride behind my father's oxen.

[Billy Hawker]

She smiled retrospectively.

[Grace Van Hall]

Do you remember how the people on the porch hurried to the railing?

[Billy Hawker]

Chapter 26. Chapter 27 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane this Librivox Recording is in the public domain. Chapter 27 near the Door, the stout proprietress sat entrenched behind the cash box in a Parisian manner. She looked with practical amiability at her guests, who dined noisily and with great fire, discussing momentous problems, furiously making wide maniacal gestures through the cigarette smoke. Meanwhile, the little handful of waiters ran to and fro, wildly, imperious and importunate. Cries rang at them from all directions.

[Major]

Gustav.

[Billy Hawker]

A Dolph. Their faces expressed a settled despair. They answered calls, commands, oaths, in a semi distraction fleeting among the tables, as if pursued by some dodging animal. Their breaths came in gasps. If they had been convict laborers, they could not have surveyed their positions with countenances of more unspeakable injury. Withal they carried incredible masses of dishes and threaded their ways with skill. They served people with such speed and violence that it often resembled a personal assault. Salt. They struck two blows at a table and left there a knife and a fork. Then came the viands in a volley. The clatter of this business was loud and bewilderingly rapid, like the gallop of a thousand horses. In a remote corner a band of mandolins and guitars played, played the long, sweeping, mad melody of a Spanish waltz. It seemed to go tingling to the hearts of many of the diners. Their eyes glittered with enthusiasm, with abandon, with deviltry. They swung their heads from side to side in rhythmic movement. High in air curled the smoke from the innumerable cigarettes. The long black claret bottles were in clusters upon the tables. At an end of the hall. Two men with maudlin grins sang the waltz uproariously, but always a trifle belated. An unsteady person leaning back in his chair to murmur swift compliments to a woman at another table suddenly sprawled out upon the floor. He scrambled to his feet and, turning to the escort of the woman, heatedly blamed him for the accident. They exchanged a series of tense, bitter insults, which spatted back, back and forth between them like pellets. People arose from their chairs and stretched their necks. The musicians stood in a body. Their faces turned with expressions of keen excitement toward this quarrel, but their fingers still twinkling over their instruments, sending into the middle of this turmoil the passionate, mad Spanish music. The proprietor of the place came in agitation and plunged headlong into the argument, where he thereafter appeared as a frantic creature, hairy to the point of insanity, for they buried him at once in long vociferous threats, explanations, charges, every form of declamation known to their voices. The music, the noise of the galloping horses, the voices of the brawlers gave the whole thing the quality of war. There were two men in the cafe who seemed to be tranquil. Hollanden carefully stood, stacked one lump of sugar upon another in the middle of his saucer, and poured cognac over them. He touched a match to the cognac and the blue and yellow flames eddied in the saucer.

[Hollanden]

I wonder what those two fools are

[Billy Hawker]

bellowing at, he said, turning around irritably.

[George Hollanden]

Hanged if I know, muttered Hocker in reply. This place makes me weary anyhow. Hear the bloomin din.

[Hollanden]

What's the matter?

[Billy Hawker]

Said Holland.

[Hollanden]

You used to say this was the one natural, the one truly bohemian resort in the city. You swore by it.

[George Hollanden]

Well, I don't like it so much any more.

[Billy Hawker]

Oh, Cried Hollanden, you're getting correct.

[Hollanden]

That's it exactly. You will become one of these intensely. Oh, look, Billy, the little one's going to punch him.

[George Hollanden]

No, he isn't.

[Billy Hawker]

They never do, said Hawker morosely.

[George Hollanden]

Why did you bring me here to Night Holly?

[Hollanden]

I? I bring you. Good heavens. I came as a concession to you. What are you talking about? Ay, the little one's going to punch em.

[Wrinkles]

Sure.

[Billy Hawker]

He gave the scene his undivided attention for a moment, then he turned again.

[Hollanden]

You will become correct. I know you will. I have been watching. You are about to achieve a respectability that will make a stone saint blush for himself. What's the matter with you? Act as if you thought falling in love with a girl was a most extraordinary circumstance. I wish they would put those people out. Of course I know that you. There. The little one has swiped him at last.

[Billy Hawker]

After a time he resumed his oration.

[Hollanden]

Of course I know that you are not reformed in the matter of this uproar and this remarkable consumption of bad wine. It is not that. It is a fact that there are indications that some other citizen was fortunate enough to possess your napkin before you. And moreover, you are sure that you would hate to be caught by your correct friends with any such consomm in front of you as we had to night. You have got an eye suddenly for all kinds of guilt. You are in the way of becoming a most unbearable person. Oh, look. The little one and the proprietor are having it now. You are in the way of becoming a most unbearable person. Presently, many of your friends will not be fine enough. In heaven's name, why did they throw him out? Are you going to howl and gesticulate there all night?

[George Hollanden]

Well said, Hawker, a man would be a fool if he didn't like this dinner.

[Hollanden]

Oh, certainly. But what an immaterial part in the glory of this joint is the dinner. Who cares about the dinner? No one comes here to eat. That's what you've always claimed. Well, there at last. They're throwing him out. I hope he lands on his head. Really. You know, Billy, it's such a fine thing being in love that one is sure to be detestable to the rest of the world. And that is the reason they created a proverb to the other effect. You want to look out.

[George Hollanden]

You talk like a blasted old granny, said Harker. Haven't changed at all. This place is all right.

[Billy Hawker]

Only you are gone, interrupted Hollanden in a sad voice.

[Hollanden]

It is very plain. You are gone.

[Billy Hawker]

End of chapter 27. Chapter 28 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 28 the proprietor of the place, having pushed to the street, the little man who may have been the most vehement, came again and resumed the discussion with the remainder of the men of War. Many of these had volunteered, and they were very enduring. Yes, you are gone, said Hollanden, with a sobriety of graves in his voice.

[Hollanden]

You are gone.

[John Harker]

Hi.

[Hollanden]

There's Lucci and Pontiac. Hey, Pontiac, sit down here.

[Billy Hawker]

A man with a tangle of hair, and with that about his mouth, which showed that he had spent many years in manufacturing a proper modesty with which to bear his greatness, came toward them, smiling. Hello, Pontiac, said Hollanden.

[Hollanden]

Here's another great painter. Do you know Mr. Hawker? Mr. William Hawker, Mr. Pontiac, Mr. Harker.

[Billy Hawker]

Delighted, said Pontiac.

[Major]

Although I have not known you personally, I can assure you I have long been a great admirer of your abilities.

[Billy Hawker]

The proprietor of the Place and the Men of War had at length agreed to come to an amicable understanding. They drank liquors while each firmly but now silently upheld his dignity.

[Major]

Charming place, said Pontiac, So thoroughly Parisian in spirit. And from time to time, Mr. Hawker, I use one of your models. Must say she has the best arm and wrist in the universe. Stunning figure. Stunning.

[Billy Hawker]

You mean Florinda, said Hawker.

[Major]

Yes, that's the name. Very fine girl. Lunches with me from time to time and chatters so volubly. That's how I learned you posed her occasionally. If the models didn't gossip, we would never know what painters were addicted to profanity. Now that old Thorndike, he told me you swore like a drill sergeant if the model winked a finger at a critical time. Very fine girl, Florinda. And honest, too. Honest as the devil Very curious thing. Of course. Honesty among the girl models is very common. Very common. Quite universal thing, you know. But then it always strikes me as being very curious. Very curious. I've been much attracted by your girl Florinda.

[George Hollanden]

My girl?

[Billy Hawker]

Said Hawker. Said Hawker.

[Major]

Well, she always speaks of you in a proprietary way, you know, and then she considers that she owes you some kind of obedience and allegiance and devotion. I remember last week I said to her, you can go now, come again Friday. But she said, I don't think I can come on Friday. Bill Hawker is home now, and he may want me. Then, said I, the devil take Billy Hawker. He hasn't engaged you for Friday, has he? Well, then, I engage you now. But she shook her head. No, she couldn't come on Friday. Billy Hawker was home and he might want her any day. Well then, said I, you have my permission to do as you please. Since you are resolved upon it anyway, go to your Billy Hawker. Did you need her on Friday?

[Billy Hawker]

No, said Hawker.

[Major]

Well then, the minx. I shall scold her stunning figure. Stunning. It was only last week that old Charlie Master said to me mournfully, there are no more good mortals. Great Scott, not a one. You're way off, my boy, I said, there is one good model. And then I named your girl. I mean the girl who claims to be yours.

[Billy Hawker]

Poor little beggar, said Hollanden.

[Major]

Who?

[Billy Hawker]

Said Pontiac. Florinda, answered Hollandon. I suppose Pontiac interrupted.

[Major]

Oh, of course it is too bad. Everything is too bad. My dear sir, nothing is so much to be regretted as the universe. But this Florinda is such a sturdy young soul. The world is against her, but bless her heart, she is equal to the battle. She is strong in the manner of a little child. Why, you don't know her. She.

[Hollanden]

I know her very well.

[Major]

Well, perhaps you do. But for my part, I think you don't appreciate her formidable character and stunning figure.

[Billy Hawker]

Stunning, damn it, said Hawker to his coffee cup, which he had accidentally overturned. Well, resumed Pontiac, she is a stunning model.

[Major]

And I think, Mr. Hawker, you ought to be envied.

[George Hollanden]

Eh?

[Major]

Said Hawker, I wish I could inspire my models with such obedience and devotion. Then I would not be obliged to rail at them for being late or have to badger them for not showing up at all. She has a beautiful figure. Beautiful.

[Billy Hawker]

End of chapter 28. Chapter 29 of the Third Third Violet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 29 When Hawker Went Again to the house of the great window, he looked first at the colossal chandelier and Perceiving that it had not moved, he smiled in a certain friendly and familiar way. It must be a fine thing, said the girl dreamily.

[Grace Van Hall]

I always feel envious of that sort of life.

[George Hollanden]

What sort of life?

[Grace Van Hall]

Why, I don't know exactly, but there must be a great deal of freedom about it. I went to a studio tea once, and.

[George Hollanden]

A studio tea? Merciful heavens. Go on.

[Grace Van Hall]

Yes, a studio tea. Don't you like them? To be sure. We don't know whether the man could paint very well. And I suppose you think it is an imposition for anyone who is not a great painter to give a tea.

[George Hollanden]

Go on.

[Grace Van Hall]

Well, he had the dearest little Japanese servants, and some of the cups came from Algiers, and some from Turkey, and some from. What's the matter?

[George Hollanden]

Go on. I'm not interrupting you.

[Grace Van Hall]

Well, that's all, excepting that everything was charming in color. And I thought what a lazy, beautiful life the man must lead. Lounging in such a studio, smoking Monogram cigarettes and remarking how badly all the other men painted.

[George Hollanden]

Very fascinating, but.

[Grace Van Hall]

Oh, you are going to ask if he could draw, I'm sure I don't know. But the tea that he gave was charming.

[George Hollanden]

I was on the verge of telling you something about artist life. But if you have seen a lot of draperies and drunk from a cup of Algiers, you know all about it.

[Grace Van Hall]

You then were going to make it something very terrible and tell how young painters struggled and all that.

[George Hollanden]

No, not exactly. But listen, I suppose there is an aristocracy who, whether they paint well or paint ill, certainly do give charming teas, as you say, and all other kinds of charming affairs too. But when I hear people talk as if that was the whole life, it makes my hair rise, you know, because I am sure that as they get to know me better and better, they will see how I fall short of that kind of an existence. And I shall probably take a great tumble in their estimation. They might even conclude that I cannot paint, which would be very unfair, because I can paint, you know.

[Grace Van Hall]

Well, proceed to arrange my point of view so that you shan't tumble in my estimation when I discover that you don't lounge in a studio, smoke Monogram cigarettes and remark how badly the other men paint.

[George Hollanden]

That's it. That's precisely what I wish to do.

[Grace Van Hall]

Begin.

[George Hollanden]

Well, in the first place.

[Grace Van Hall]

In the first place, what?

[George Hollanden]

Well, I started to study when I was very poor, you understand. Look here, I'm telling you these things because I want you to know somehow. It isn't that I'm not ashamed of it. Well, I began very poor and I. As a matter of fact, I. Well, I earned myself over half the money for my studying and the other half I bullied and badgered and beat out of my poor old dad. I worked pretty hard in Paris and I returned here expecting to become a great painter at once. I didn't, though. In fact, I had my worst moments then. It lasted for some years. Of course, the faith and endurance of my father were by this time worn to a shadow. This time when I needed him the most, however, things got a little better and a little better until I found that by working quite hard I could make what was to me a fair income. That's where I am now, too.

[Grace Van Hall]

Why are you so ashamed of this story?

[George Hollanden]

The poverty.

[Grace Van Hall]

Poverty isn't anything to be ashamed of.

[George Hollanden]

Great heavens. Have you the temerity to get off that old nonsensical remark? Poverty is everything to be ashamed of. Did you ever see a person not ashamed of his poverty? Certainly not. Of course, when a man gets very rich he will brag so loudly of the poverty of his youth that one would never suppose that he was once ashamed of it. But he was.

[Grace Van Hall]

Well, anyhow, you shouldn't be ashamed of the story you have just told me.

[George Hollanden]

Why not? Do you refuse to allow me the great right of being like other men?

[Grace Van Hall]

I think it was brave, you know.

[George Hollanden]

Brave. Nonsense. Those things are not brave. Impression to that effect created by the men who have been through the mill for the greater glory of the men who have been through the mill.

[Grace Van Hall]

I don't like to hear you talk that way. It sounds wicked, you know.

[George Hollanden]

Well, it certainly wasn't heroic. I can remember distinctly that there was not one heroic moment.

[Grace Van Hall]

No, but it was. It was.

[George Hollanden]

It was what?

[Grace Van Hall]

Well, somehow I like it, you know.

[Billy Hawker]

End of chapter 29. Chapter 30 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 30 there's three of them, said Grief in a hoarse whisper. Four, I tell yer, said Wrinkles in a low, excited tone. Four, breathed Pennoyer. With decision they held fierce pantomimic argument. From the corridor came sounds of rustling dresses and rapid feminine conversation. Grief had kept his ear to the panel of the door. His hand was stretched back, warning the others to silence. Presently he turned his head and whispered.

[Great Grief]

3.

[Billy Hawker]

4, whispered Pennoyer in Wrinkles. Holly is there too, whispered Grief.

[Great Grief]

Billy is unlocking the door now. They're going in. Hear them cry out. Oh, isn't it lovely? Jinx.

[Billy Hawker]

He began a noiseless dance around the room.

[Great Grief]

Jinx. Don't I wish I had a big studio and a little reputation? Wouldn't I have my swell friends come to see me and wouldn't I entertain them?

[Billy Hawker]

He adopted a descriptive manner and with his forefinger indicated various spaces of the wall.

[Great Grief]

Here's a little thing I did in Brittany. Peasant woman in sabots. This brown spot here is the peasant woman and these two white things are the sabots. Peasant woman in sabbats. Don't you see? Women in Brittany, of course, all wear sabots, you understand. Convenience of the painters. I see you are looking at that little thing I did in Morocco. Ah, you admire it. Well, not so bad, not so bad. Arab smoking pipe, squatting in doorway. This long streak here is the pipe. Clever, you say? Oh, thanks. You are too kind. Well, all Arabs do that, you know. Sole occupation, convenience of the painters. Now, this little thing here I did in Venice. Grand Canal, you know. Gondolier leaning on his oar. Convenience of the painters. Oh, yes, American subjects are well enough, but hard to find, you know. Hard to find. Morocco, Venice, Brittany, Holland. All obliged with colour, you know. Quaint form, all that. We are so hideously modern over here. And besides, nobody has painted us much. How the devil can I paint America when nobody has done it before me? My dear sir, you are aware that would be originality. Good heavens. We are not aesthetic, you understand. Oh, yes. Some good mind comes along and understands a thing and does it, and after that it is aesthetic. Yes, of course, but then. Well, now, here's a little Holland thing of mine. It.

[Billy Hawker]

The others had evidently not been heeding him. Shut up, said Wrinkles suddenly.

[Wrinkles]

Listen.

[Billy Hawker]

Grief paused his harangue and they sat in silence, their lips apart, their eyes from time to time exchanging eloquent messages. A dulled, melodious babble came from Hawker's studio. At length Pennoyer murmured wistfully, I would

[Pennoyer]

like to see her.

[Billy Hawker]

Wrinkle started noiselessly to his feet.

[Wrinkles]

Well, I tell you she's a peach. I was going up the steps, you know, with a loaf of bread under me arm, when I chanced to look up the street and saw Billy and Hollanden coming with four of them. Three, said Grief, for and I tell you, I scattered. One of the two with Billy was a peach. A peach.

[Billy Hawker]

Oh, lord, groaned the others enviously.

[Pennoyer]

Billee's in luck.

[Wrinkles]

How do you know?

[Billy Hawker]

Said Wrinkles.

[Wrinkles]

Billy is a blamed good fellow, but that doesn't say she will care for him. More likely than that, she won't.

[Billy Hawker]

They sat in silence, grinning and listening to the murmur of Voices. There came the sound of a step in the hallway. It ceased at a point opposite the door of Hawker's studio. Presently it was heard again. Florinda entered the den.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Hello.

[Billy Hawker]

She cried.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Who is over in Billy's place? I was just going to knock.

[Billy Hawker]

They motioned at her violently.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Sh.

[Billy Hawker]

They whispered. Their countenances were very impressive.

[Florinda O'Connor]

What's the matter with you fellows?

[Billy Hawker]

Asked Florinda in her ordinary tone. Whereupon they made gestures of still greater wildness.

[George Hollanden]

Sh.

[Billy Hawker]

Florinda lowered her voice properly.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Who is over there?

[Billy Hawker]

Some swells, they whispered. Florinda bent her head. Presently she gave a little start.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Who is over there?

[Billy Hawker]

Her voice became a tone of deep awe. She, Wrinkles and Grief exchanged a swift glance. Pennoyer said gruffly, who do you mean? Why, said Florinda, you know, she.

[Florinda O'Connor]

The. The girl Billee likes.

[Billy Hawker]

Pennoyer hesitated for a moment and then said wrathfully, of course she is.

[Pennoyer]

Who do you suppose?

[Billy Hawker]

Oh, said Florinda. She took a seat upon the divan, which was privately a coal box, and unbuttoned her jacket at the throat.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Is she. Is she very handsome? Rink?

[Billy Hawker]

Wrinkles replied stoutly. No, Grief said.

[Great Grief]

Let's make a sneak down the hall to the little unoccupied room at the front of the building and look from the window there. When they go out, we can pipe them off.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Come on.

[Billy Hawker]

They exclaimed, accepting this plan with glee. Wrinkles opened the door and seemed about to glide away, when he suddenly turned and shook his head.

[Wrinkles]

It's dead wrong.

[Billy Hawker]

He said, ashamed. Oh, go on. Eagerly, whispered the others. Presently they stole, pattering down the corridor, grinning, exclaiming and cautioning each other at the window. Pennoyer said, now, for heaven's sake, don't

[Pennoyer]

let them see you. Be careful, Grief, you'll tumble. Don't lean on me that way, Rink. Think I'm a barn door. Here they come.

[George Hollanden]

Keep back.

[Pennoyer]

Don't let them see you.

[Billy Hawker]

Oo. Said Grief.

[Great Grief]

Talk about a peach. Well, I should say so.

[Billy Hawker]

Florinda's fingers tore at Wrinkle's coat sleeve.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Rink. Rink, is that her? Is that her on the left of Billy? Is that her, Rink?

[Wrinkles]

What? Yes. Stop punching me. Yes, I tell you, that's her. Are you deaf?

[Billy Hawker]

End of chapter 30. Chapter 31 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 31 in the evening, Pennoyer conducted Florinda to the flat of many fire escapes. After a period of silent tramping through the great golden avenue and the street that was being repaired, she said Penny,

[Florinda O'Connor]

you are very good to me.

[Pennoyer]

Why?

[Billy Hawker]

Said Pennoyer.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Oh, because you are. You. You are very good to me, Penny.

[Pennoyer]

Well, I guess I'm not killing myself.

[Florinda O'Connor]

There isn't many fellows like you. No, no, there isn't many fellows like you, Penny. I tell you most everything, and you just listen and don't argue with me and tell me I'm a fool because you know that it. Because you know that it can't be helped anyhow.

[Pennoyer]

Oh, nonsense, you kid. Almost anybody would be glad to.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Penny, do you think she is very beautiful?

[Billy Hawker]

Florinda's voice had a singular quality of awe in it. Well, Replied Pennoyer, I don't know.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Yes, you do, Penny. Go ahead and tell me. Well, go ahead.

[Pennoyer]

Well, she is rather handsome, you know.

[Billy Hawker]

Yes, said Florinda dejectedly.

[Florinda O'Connor]

I suppose she is.

[Billy Hawker]

After a time she cleared her throat and remarked indifferently.

[Florinda O'Connor]

I suppose Billee cares a lot for her.

[Pennoyer]

Oh, I imagine that he does in a way.

[Billy Hawker]

Why, of course he does, insisted Florinda.

[Florinda O'Connor]

What do you mean by in a way? You know very well that Billy thinks his eyes of her.

[Pennoyer]

No, I don't.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Yes, you do. You know you do. You are talking in that way just to brace me up. You know you are.

[Billy Hawker]

No, I'm not, Penny, said Florinda, thankfully.

[Florinda O'Connor]

What makes you so good to me?

[Pennoyer]

Oh, I guess I'm not so astonishingly good to you. Don't be silly.

[Florinda O'Connor]

But you are good to me, Penny. You don't make fun of me the waythe way the other boys would. You are just as good as you can be. But you do think she is beautiful, don't you?

[Billy Hawker]

They wouldn't make fun of you, said Pennoyer.

[Florinda O'Connor]

But you do think she is beautiful.

[Pennoyer]

Look here, splutter, let up on that, will you? You keep harping on one string all the time. Don't bother me.

[Florinda O'Connor]

But honest now, Penny, you do think she is beautiful.

[Pennoyer]

Well, then, confound it. No, no, no.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Oh, yes, you do, Penny. Go ahead. Now, don't deny it just because you are talking to me. Own up now, Penny. You do think she is beautiful.

[Pennoyer]

Well?

[Billy Hawker]

Said Pennoyer in a dull roar of irritation.

[Pennoyer]

Do you?

[Billy Hawker]

Florinda walked in silence, her eyes upon the yellow flashes which lights sent to the pavement. In the end, she said.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Yes.

[Pennoyer]

Yes, what?

[Billy Hawker]

Asked Pennoyer sharply.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Yes, she. Yes, she is beautiful.

[Pennoyer]

Well, then.

[Billy Hawker]

Cried Pennoyer, abruptly closing the discussion, Florinda announced something as a fact.

[Florinda O'Connor]

Billee thinks his eyes of her.

[Pennoyer]

How do you know he does?

[Florinda O'Connor]

Don't scold at Me? Penny. You. You.

[Pennoyer]

I'm not scolding at you there. What a goose you are. Splutter. Don't, for heaven's sake. Go to whimpering on the street. I didn't say anything to make you feel that way. Come, pull yourself together.

[Florinda O'Connor]

I'm not whimpering.

[Pennoyer]

No, of course not. But then you look as if you were on the edge of it. What a little idiot.

[Billy Hawker]

End of chapter 31. Chapter 32 of the Third Violet by Stephen Crane this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 32 when the Snow fell upon the clashing life of the city, the exiled stones, beaten by myriad strange feet, were told of the dark silent forests where the flakes swept through the hemlocks and swished softly against the boulders. In his studio, Hawker smoked a pipe, clasping his knees with thoughtful interlocked fingers. He was gazing sourly at his finished picture. Once he started to his feet with a cry of vexation. Looking back over his shoulder, he swore an insult into the face of the picture. He paced to and fro, smoking belligerently and from time to time eyeing it. The helpless thing remained upon the easel facing him. Hollanden entered and stopped abruptly at the sight of the great scowl.

[Hollanden]

What's wrong now?

[Billy Hawker]

He said. Hocker gestured at the picture.

[George Hollanden]

That dunce of a thing. It makes me tired. It wasn't worth a hang, blame it.

[Hollanden]

What?

[Billy Hawker]

Hollanden strode forward and stood before the painting with legs apart in a properly critical manner.

[Grace Van Hall]

What?

[Florinda O'Connor]

Why?

[Hollanden]

You said it was your best thing.

[Billy Hawker]

Ah, said Hocker, waving his arms.

[George Hollanden]

It's no good. I abominate it. I didn't get what I wanted, I tell you. I didn't get what I wanted. That.

[Billy Hawker]

He shouted, pointing thrust way at it.

[George Hollanden]

That it's vile. Ah, it makes me weary.

[Hollanden]

You are in a nice state, said

[Billy Hawker]

Hollanden, turning to take a critical view of the painter.

[Hollanden]

What has got into you now? I swear you are more kinds of a chump.

[Billy Hawker]

Hawker crooned dismally.

[George Hollanden]

I can't paint. I can't paint for a damn. I'm no good. What in thunder was I invented for anyhow?

[Billy Hawker]

Holly, you're a fool, said Hollanden.

[Hollanden]

I hoped to die if I ever saw such a complete idiot. You give me a page just because you don't.

[George Hollanden]

It isn't that she has nothing to do with it, although I know well enough. I know well enough what? I know well enough she doesn't care a hang for me. It isn't that. It is because. It is because I can't Paint. Look at that thing over there. Remember the thought and energy. I damn the thing.

[Hollanden]

Why did you have a row with her?

[Billy Hawker]

Asked Holland, perplexed.

[Hollanden]

I didn't know.

[George Hollanden]

No, of course you didn't know.

[Billy Hawker]

Cried Hawker, sneering.

[George Hollanden]

Cause I had no row. It isn't that, I tell you, but

[Billy Hawker]

I know well enough, he shook his fist vaguely, that she don't care an

[George Hollanden]

old tomato can for me. Why should she?

[Billy Hawker]

He demanded with a curious defiance.

[George Hollanden]

In the name of heaven, why should she?

[Billy Hawker]

I don't know, said Hollanden.

[Hollanden]

I don't know, I am sure. Then women have no social logic. This is the great blessing of the world. There is only one thing which is superior to the multiplicity of social forms, and that is a woman's mind. A young woman's mind. Of course, sometimes they are logical. But let a woman be so once, and she will repent of it to the end of her days. The safety of the world's balance lies in woman's illogical mind, I think.

[George Hollanden]

Go to blazes, said Harker. I don't care what you think. I am sure of one thing, and that is that she doesn't care a hang for me.

[Billy Hawker]

I think I. Hollanden continued, and society

[Hollanden]

is doing very well in its work of bravely gnawing away at nature. But there is one immovable thing, a woman's illogical mind. That is our safety. Thank heaven.

[George Hollanden]

Go to blazes.

[Billy Hawker]

Said Hawker again. End of chapter 32. Chapter 33 of the third Violet by Stephen Crane. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 33 as Hawker again entered the room of the great windows, he glanced in sidelong bitterness at the chandelier. When he was seated. He looked at it in open defiance and hatred. Men in the street were shovelling at the snow. The noise of their instruments scraping on the stones came plainly to Hawker's ears in a harsh chorus, and this sound at this time was perhaps to him a misery.

[George Hollanden]

I came to tell you, he began. I came to tell you that perhaps I am going away.

[Grace Van Hall]

Going away?

[Billy Hawker]

She cried.

[Grace Van Hall]

Where?

[George Hollanden]

Well, I don't know quite. You see, I am rather indefinite as yet. I thought of going for the winter somewhere in the Southern states. I am decided merely this much you know. I am going somewhere, but I don't know where. Way off. Anyhow.

[Grace Van Hall]

We shall be very sorry to lose you, she remarked.

[George Hollanden]

And I thought, he continued, that I would come and say adios now for fear that I might leave very suddenly. I do that sometimes. I'm afraid you will forget me Very soon. But I want to tell you that,

[Billy Hawker]

said the girl in some surprise.

[Grace Van Hall]

You speak as if you were going away for all time. You surely do not mean to utterly desert New York.

[George Hollanden]

I think you misunderstand me, he said. I give this important air to my farewell to you, because to me it is a very important event. Perhaps you recollect that once I told you that I cared for you. Well, I still care for you. And so I can only go away somewhere, some place way off. Where? Where?

[Grace Van Hall]

See, New York is a very large place, she observed.

[George Hollanden]

Yes, New York is very large. How good of you to remind me. But then you don't understand. You can't understand. I know I can find no place where I will cease to remember you. But then I can find some place where I can cease to remember in a way that I am myself. I shall never try to forget you. Those two violets, you know. One I found near the tennis court and the other you gave me. You remember? I shall take them with me.

[Billy Hawker]

Here, said the girl, tugging at her gown for a moment.

[Grace Van Hall]

Here. Here's a third one.

[Billy Hawker]

She thrust a violet toward him.

[George Hollanden]

If you are not so serenely insolent, said Hocker, I would think that you felt sorry for me. I don't wish you to feel sorry for me, and I don't wish to be melodramatic. I know it is all commonplace enough, and I didn't mean to act like a tenor. Please don't pity me.

[Billy Hawker]

I don't, she replied. She gave the violet a little fling. Hocker lifted his head suddenly and glowered at her. No, you don't, he at last said slowly.

[George Hollanden]

You don't. Moreover, there is no reason why you should take the trouble.

[Billy Hawker]

But he paused when the girl leaned and peered over the arm of her chair. Her precisely in the manner of a child at the brink of a fountain.

[Grace Van Hall]

There's my violet on the floor, she said. You treated it quite contemptuously, didn't you?

[George Hollanden]

Yes.

[Billy Hawker]

Together they stared at the violet. Finally he stooped and took it in his fingers.

[George Hollanden]

I feel as if this third one was pelted at me, but I shall keep it. You are rather a cruel person. But heaven guard us, that only fastens a man's love the more upon a woman.

[Billy Hawker]

She laughed.

[Grace Van Hall]

That is not a very good thing to tell a woman.

[Billy Hawker]

No, he said gravely, it is not.

[George Hollanden]

But then I fancy that somebody may have told you previously.

[Billy Hawker]

She stared at him and then said,

[Grace Van Hall]

I think you are revenged for my serene insolence.

[George Hollanden]

Great heavens, what an armor.

[Billy Hawker]

He cried.

[George Hollanden]

I Suppose, after all, I did feel a trifle like a tenor when I first came here. But you have chilled it all out of me. Let's talk about indifferent topics.

[Billy Hawker]

But he started abruptly to his feet. No, he said.

[George Hollanden]

Let us not talk upon indifferent topics. I am not brave, I assure you. And it. It might be too much for me.

[Billy Hawker]

He held out his hand.

[George Hollanden]

Good bye.

[Grace Van Hall]

You are going?

[George Hollanden]

Yes, I am going. Really, I didn't think how it would bore you for me to come around here and croak in this fashion.

[Grace Van Hall]

And you are not coming back for a long, long time.

[George Hollanden]

Not for a long, long time.

[Billy Hawker]

He mimicked her tone.

[George Hollanden]

I have the three violets now, you know. And you must remember that I took the third one even when you flung it at my head. That will remind you how submissive I was in my devotion. When you recall the two others, it will remind you of. Of what a fool I was. Dare say you won't miss three violets.

[Billy Hawker]

No, she said.

[George Hollanden]

Particularly the one you flung at my head. That violet was certainly freely given.

[Grace Van Hall]

I didn't fling it at your head.

[Billy Hawker]

She pondered for a time with her eyes upon the floor. Then she murmured, no more freely given

[Grace Van Hall]

than the one I gave you that night. That night at the inn.

[George Hollanden]

So very good of you to tell me so.

[Billy Hawker]

Her eyes were still upon the floor. Do you know, said Hocker, it is

[George Hollanden]

very hard to go away and leave an impression in your mind that I am a fool. That is very hard. Now you do think I am a fool, don't you?

[Billy Hawker]

She remained silent. Once she lifted her eyes and gave him a swift look with much indignation in it.

[George Hollanden]

Now you are enraged. Well, what have I done?

[Billy Hawker]

It seemed that some tumult was in her mind, for she cried out to him at last in sudden tearfulness.

[Grace Van Hall]

Oh, do go. Go, please.

[Billy Hawker]

I want you to go under this swift change. Hawker appeared as a man struck from the sky. He sprang to his feet, took two steps forward and spoke a word which was an explosion of delight and amazement. He said, what? With heroic effort, she slowly raised her eyes until, alight with anger, defiance, unhappiness, they met his eyes. Later she told him that he was perfectly ridiculous. End of chapter 33 end of the third violet by St. Stephen Crane thank you for listening.