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Whilomville Stories 
He had picked out a wife, and naturally, looking at him, one wondered how he had done it. She was quick, beautiful, imperious, while he was quiet, slow, and misty. She was a veritable queen of health, while he, apparently, was of a most brittle constitution.

The Red Badge of Courage 
As the landscape changed from brown to green, the army awakened, and began to tremble with eagerness at the noise of rumors. It cast its eyes upon the roads, which were growing from long troughs of liquid mud to proper thoroughfares.

Active Service 
her face wore the expression of thoughtful melancholy expected on the faces of the devotees who pace in cloistered gloom. She halted before a door at the end of the hall and laid her hand on the knob. She stood hesitating, her head bowed. It was evident that this mission was to require great fortitude.

The Open Boat  Four Men Sunk From The Steamer Commodore.
Their eyes glanced level, and were fastened upon the waves that swept toward them. These waves were of the hue of slate, save for the tops, which were of foaming white, and all of the men knew the colors of the sea. The horizon narrowed and widened, and dipped and rose, and at all times its edge was jagged with waves that seemed thrust up in points like rocks.

The Monster 
After Johnson had taken his supper in the kitchen, he went to his loft in the carriage-house and dressed himself with much care. No belle of a court circle could bestow more mind on a toilet than did Johnson. On second thought, he was more like a priest arraying himself for some parade of the church. As he emerged from his room and sauntered down the carriage drive, no one would have suspected him of ever having washed a buggy.

Maggie: A Girl of the Streets 
The little champion of Rum Alley stumbled precipitately down the other side. His coat had been torn to shreds in a scuffle, and his hat was gone. He had bruises on twenty parts of his body, and blood was dripping from a cut in his head. His wan features wore a look of a tiny, insane demon.

The Generation Collection 
The brigade was ultimately landed at Siboney, as part of an army to attack Santiago. The scene at the landing sometimes resembled the inspiriting daily drama at the approach to the Brooklyn Bridge. There was a great bustle, during which the wise man kept his property gripped in his hands lest it might march off into the wilderness in the pocket of one of the striding regiments.

"War is Kind" 

The Third Violet 

The Bride Comes to Yellow Sky 

The Blue Hotel 
The Palace Hotel at Fort Romper was painted a light blue, a shade that is on the legs of a kind of heron, causing the bird to declare its position against any background. The Palace Hotel, then, was always screaming and howling in a way that made the dazzling winter landscape of Nebraska seem only a gray swampish hush.

Wounds in the Rain 
Twenty-five men were making a road out of a path up the hillside. The light batteries in the rear were impatient to advance, but first must be done all that digging and smoothing which gains no encrusted medals from war. The men worked like gardeners, and a road was growing from the old pack-animal trail.

see also The Stephen Crane Society
An Age of Vision

We have come into an age that seems against
all things Godly. Every event, every ad, tells
us to attach ourselves even more to this physical
reality. The pain of this world draws us more 
and more into a morass. We must then respond in
like manner or with no consideration or manners.

But the very power of this chaos, awaiting us, 
as we awake each new day, is but a reaction to a 
higher power that has been calling to us in a
new package for the last 170 years. Each day we 
steer away from asking the One True God for help.

A call from our hearts will bring a response
from Him, because he has promised us. But the power
is now beyond anything that has ever been available
to us in the past. 

'Oh God, I am but nothing before You. Will You
take pity on my self and lead me into Your Garden!'

Something like this, because we have nothing
to brag about and He has been waiting and
prodding us for ages to glance in His direction.

'Then Job answered the Lord: 
I know that thou canst do all things 
and that no purpose is beyond thee. 
But I have spoken of great things 
which I have not understood, 
things too wonderful for me to know. 
I knew of thee then only by report, 
but now I see thee with my own eyes. 
Therefore I melt away; 
I repent in dust and ashes.' (Job 42)

We claim to know things when we are truly lost.
Maybe we can fool others but there are two
who know the truth. 

This is an age of vision, of revelation, when
God's bounties will be rained down upon us.
But so few, so far, have turned in His 
direction. If we intent to go ahead into our
civilization of complexity, then we will need
vision because there are no precedents.

New is the news of our future. No pathways
to follow on. Machinery has been provided
to build the roads and freeways. 

The two tools are consultation and vision.
They must work together but vision must always
bow to consultation.

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