*bols, it lit on something. Just a sheen
of pearls and a little loom upon a table--myriads
of pearly beads, woven and unwoven,
with here and there a ray of New
Jerusalem colors, ruby, emerald, blazing
through them--the New Jerusalem of
hope.

"Ah-h!"

Breathlessly she caught it up, that something,
four feet and a half of the beaded
history of a girl,--pearl-woven prophecy,
too!

Hugging it to her breast, that long
leather strip, an inch and a half in width,
on which her glowing young life-story
was woven in pearls, with those rainbow
flashes of color--the loom with it--she
hurried out of the room.

Never, perhaps, did a professor's laboratory,
the stern, hardware "lab." of
a mechanical engineer, react to anything
so fairy-like as when Pem, scurrying
down a flight of stairs to the workshop
which her father had fitted up in
[[54]]

p053 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p054w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p055

v?