In a huge, deep, easy chair, a bit to the side of the enormous fireplace, reclined an elderly, distinguished-looking gentleman in whose face were indented the lines belonging to fatigue and age. Calmly he sat there, peacefully smoking his beloved, favorite pipe, one of those old English types, providing a deep bowl with a huge capacity for tobacco, one quite resembling the pipe of the famed, illustrious character, Sherlock Holmes. The smoke curled around his head until it gave the appearance of a hazy, misty wreath entwined above him. The gentleman was deeply, profoundly engaged in thought. This was easily determined by one glance. into the fathomed brown eyes - eyes of mystery, eyes containing a certain far away look, eyes filled with beauty.
"A Great Master,"
Manuscripts: Vol. 11
, Article 19.
Available at: http://digitalcommons.butler.edu/manuscripts/vol11/iss2/19