FOTHERGIL FINCH, THE POET OF REVOLT
ISN'T it odd how some of the most radical and advanced and virile of the leaders in the New Art and the New Thought don't look it at all?
There's Fothergil Finch, for instance. Nobody could be more virile than Fothy is in his Soul. Fothy's Inner Ego, if you get what I mean, is a Giant in Revolt all the time.
And yet to look at Fothy you wouldn't think he was a Modern Cave Man. Not that he looks like a weakling, you know. But—well, if you get what I mean—you'd think Fothy might write about violets instead of thunderbolts.
Dear Papa is entirely mistaken about him.
Only yesterday dear Papa said to me, "Hermione, if you don't keep that damned little vers libre runt away from here I'll put him to work, and he'll die of it."
But you couldn't expect Papa to appreciate Fothy. Papa is so reactionary and conservative.
And Fothy's life is one long, grim, desperate struggle against Conventionality, and Social Injus-
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