IF you have lived in cities and have walked in
the park on a summer afternoon, you have
perhaps seen, blinking in a corner of his iron
cage, a huge, grotesque kind of monkey, a crea-
ture with ugly, sagging, hairless skin below his
eyes and a bright purple underbody. This mon-
key is a true monster. In the completeness of his
ugliness he achieved a kind of perverted beauty.
Children stopping before the cage are fascinated,
men turn away with an air of disgust, and women
linger for a moment, trying perhaps to remember
which one of their male acquaintances the thing in
some faint way resembles.

Had you been in the earlier years of your life
a citizen of the village of Winesburg, Ohio,there
would have been for you no mystery in regard to
the beast in his cage. "It is like WashWilliams,"
you would have said. "As he sits in the corner
there, the beast is exactly like old Washsitting on
the grass in the station yard on a summer evening
after he has closed his office for the night."

Wash Williams, the telegraphoperator of
Winesburg, was the ugliest thing in town. His

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