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Blackwood, Algernon, 1869-1951

"The Extra Day"

Aunt Emily, even from a distance...! In any case, they behaved
with this intuitive sagacity which obviated every risk--by taking
none.
Yet everything was different. Behind the routine lay the potent
emphasis of some strange new factor, as though a lofty hope, a brave
ideal, had the power of transmuting common duties into gold and
crystal. This new factor pushed softly behind each little customary
act, urging what was commonplace over the edge into the marvellous.
The habitual became wonderful. It felt like Christmas Eve, like the
last night of the Old Year, like the day before the family moved for
the holidays to the sea--only more so. Even To-morrow-will-be-Sunday
had entirely disappeared. A thrill of mysterious anticipation gilded
everything with wonder and beauty that were impossible, yet true. Some
Day, _the_ Thing that Nobody could Understand--Somebody--was coming at
last.
Uncle Felix was in an extraordinary state; his acts were normal
enough, but his speech betrayed him shamefully; they had to warn him
more than once about it. He seemed unable to talk ordinary prose,
saying that "Everything _ought_ to rhyme, At such a time," and,
instead of walking like other people, his feet tried to keep in time
with his language.


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