This Is A New Release Of The Original 1912 Edition.

This is a reproduction of a book published before 1923. This book may have occasional imperfections such as missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. that were either part of the original artifact, or were introduced by the scanning process. We believe this work is culturally important, and despite the imperfections, have elected to bring it back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide. We appreciate your understanding of the imperfections in the preservation process, and hope you enjoy this valuable book.

This is an EXACT reproduction of a book published before 1923. This IS NOT an OCR'd book with strange characters, introduced typographical errors, and jumbled words. This book may have occasional imperfections such as missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. that were either part of the original artifact, or were introduced by the scanning process. We believe this work is culturally important, and despite the imperfections, have elected to bring it back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide. We appreciate your understanding of the imperfections in the preservation process, and hope you enjoy this valuable book.

1912. Illustrated. The book begins: The Poet lay out on the sands with head on elbow, attentive to the sea; the girl's shadow fell over him softly from behind. For awhile he did not raise his eyes, having already said: No, thank you, to a photographer with stained fingers, and a girl tugging a great basket of pears. He studied, not without amusement, the irresolute shadow cast diagonally across him; noted its sex, divined the favor difficult of formulation, and smiled at the silent combat between timidity and inertness. Once, indeed, he deemed the conflict terminated in defeat, for the shadow shortened, and he was making ready in mind to turn on elbow after its withdrawal to see with what manner of shade his immobility had been doing battle, when he was apostrophized with a trepid Please!

This scarce antiquarian book is a selection from Kessinger Publishing's Legacy Reprint Series. Due to its age, it may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment to protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature. Kessinger Publishing is the place to find hundreds of thousands of rare and hard-to-find books with something of interest for everyone

This scarce antiquarian book is a selection from Kessinger Publishing's Legacy Reprint Series. Due to its age, it may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment to protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature. Kessinger Publishing is the place to find hundreds of thousands of rare and hard-to-find books with something of interest for everyone!

1912. Illustrated. The book begins: The Poet lay out on the sands with head on elbow, attentive to the sea; the girl's shadow fell over him softly from behind. For awhile he did not raise his eyes, having already said: No, thank you, to a photographer with stained fingers, and a girl tugging a great basket of pears. He studied, not without amusement, the irresolute shadow cast diagonally across him; noted its sex, divined the favor difficult of formulation, and smiled at the silent combat between timidity and inertness. Once, indeed, he deemed the conflict terminated in defeat, for the shadow shortened, and he was making ready in mind to turn on elbow after its withdrawal to see with what manner of shade his immobility had been doing battle, when he was apostrophized with a trepid Please!

1912. Illustrated. The book begins: The Poet lay out on the sands with head on elbow, attentive to the sea; the girl's shadow fell over him softly from behind. For awhile he did not raise his eyes, having already said: No, thank you, to a photographer with stained fingers, and a girl tugging a great basket of pears. He studied, not without amusement, the irresolute shadow cast diagonally across him; noted its sex, divined the favor difficult of formulation, and smiled at the silent combat between timidity and inertness. Once, indeed, he deemed the conflict terminated in defeat, for the shadow shortened, and he was making ready in mind to turn on elbow after its withdrawal to see with what manner of shade his immobility had been doing battle, when he was apostrophized with a trepid Please!