"But Lord Asriel wouldn't stand for that. He had a hatred of priors and monks and nuns, and being a high-handed man he just rode in one day and carried you off. Not to look after himself, nor to give to the gyptians; he took you to Jordan College, and dared the law to undo it.
"Well, the law let things be. Lord Asriel went back to his explorations, and you grew up at Jordan College. The one thing he said, your father, the one condition he made, was that your mother shouldn't be let see you. If she ever tried to do that, she was to be prevented, and he was to be told, because all the anger in his nature had turned against her now. The Master promised faithfully to do that,montblanc ballpoint pen; and so time passed.
"Then come all this anxiety about Dust. And all over the country, all over the world, wise men and women too began a worrying about it,http://www.rolexsubmarinerreplica.info/. It weren't of any account to us gyptians,replica rolex watches, until they started taking our kids. That's when we got interested. And we got connections in all sorts of places you wouldn't imagine, including Jordan College. You wouldn't know, but there's been someone a watching over you and reporting to us ever since you been there. 'Cause we got an interest in you, and that gyptian woman who nursed you, she never stopped being anxious on your behalf."
"Who was it watching over me?" said Lyra. She felt immensely important and strange, that all her doings should be an object of concern so far away.
"It was a kitchen servant. It was Bernie Johansen, the pastry cook. He's half-gyptian; you never knew that, I'll be bound."
Bernie was a kindly, solitary man, one of those rare people whose daemon was the same sex as himself. It was Bernie she'd shouted at in her despair when Roger was taken. And Bernie had been telling the gyptians everything! She marveled.
"So anyway," John Faa went on,Homepage, "we heard about you going away from Jordan College, and how it came about at a time when Lord Asriel was imprisoned and couldn't prevent it. And we remembered what he'd said to the Master that he must never do, and we remembered that the man your mother had married, the politician Lord Asriel killed, was called Edward Coulter."
"Mrs. Coulter?" said Lyra, quite stupefied. "She en't my mother?"
"She is. And if your father had been free, she wouldn't never have dared to def
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
绮剧伒瀹濋捇 The Silmarillion_143
s enemies and the slayers of his kin, or be accursed!' But Maeglin answered nothing.
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Then Eцl looked into the eyes of King Turgon, and he was not daunted, but stood long without word or movement while a still silence fell upon the hall; and Aredhel was afraid, knowing that he was perilous. Suddenly, swift as serpent, he seized a javelin that he held hid beneath his cloak and cast it at Maeglin, crying:
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娴峰簳涓や竾閲_Twenty Thousand Leagues Under The Sea_251
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Monday, December 17, 2012
I'm not surprised
"Son, I'm not surprised," Elijah Muhammad said. "You always have had such a good understanding ofprophecy, and of spiritual things. You recognize that's what all of this is-prophecy. You have the kindof understanding that only an old man has.
"I'm David," he said. "When you read about how David took another man's wife, I'm that David. Youread about Noah, who got drunk-that's me. You read about Lot, who went and laid up with his owndaughters. I have to fulfill all of those things." I remembered that when an epidemic is about to hit somewhere, that community's people areinoculated against exposure with some of the same germs that are anticipated-and this prepares themto resist the oncoming virus.
I decided I had better prepare six other East Coast Muslim officials whom I selected,cheap adidas shoes for sale.
I told them. And then I told them why I had told them-that I felt they should not be caught by surpriseand shock if it became their job to teach the Muslims in their mosques the "fulfillment of prophecy." Ifound then that some had already heard it; one of them, Minister Louis X of Boston, as much as sevenmonths before. They had been living with the dilemma themselves.
I never dreamed that the Chicago Muslim officials were going to make it appear that I was throwinggasoline on the fire instead of water. I never dreamed that they were going to try to make it appearthat instead of inoculating against an epidemic, I had started it.
The stage in Chicago even then was being set for Muslims to shift their focus off the epidemic-andonto me.
Hating me was going to become the cause for people of shattered faith to rally around.
Non-Muslim Negroes who knew me well, and even some of the white reporters with whom I hadsome regular contact, were telling me, almost wherever I went, "Malcolm X, you're looking tired. Youneed a rest."They didn't know a fraction of it. Since I had been a Muslim, this was the first time any white peoplereally got to me in a personal way. I could tell that some of them were really honest and sincere. Oneof these, whose name I won't call-he might lose his job-said,Homepage, "Malcolm X,cheap foamposites, the whites need your voiceworse than the Negroes." I remember so well his saying this because it prefaced the first time since Ibecame a Muslim that I had ever talked with any white man at any length about anything except theNation of Islam and the American black man's struggle today.
I can't remember how, or why, he somehow happened to mention the Dead Sea Scrolls. I came backwith something like, "Yes, those scrolls are going to take Jesus off the stained-glass windows and thefrescoes where he has been lily-white, and put Him back into the true mainstream of history whereJesus actually was non-white,nike foamposites." The reporter was surprised, and I went on that the Dead Sea Scrollswere going to reaffirm that Jesus was a member of that brotherhood of Egyptian seers called the Essene-a fact already known from Philo, the famous Egyptian historian of Jesus' time. And thereporter and I got off on about two good hours of talking in the areas of archaeology, history, andreligion. It was so pleasant. I almost forgot the heavy worries on my mind-for that brief respite. Iremember we wound up agreeing that by the year 2000, every schoolchild will be taught the true colorof great men of antiquity.
"I'm David," he said. "When you read about how David took another man's wife, I'm that David. Youread about Noah, who got drunk-that's me. You read about Lot, who went and laid up with his owndaughters. I have to fulfill all of those things." I remembered that when an epidemic is about to hit somewhere, that community's people areinoculated against exposure with some of the same germs that are anticipated-and this prepares themto resist the oncoming virus.
I decided I had better prepare six other East Coast Muslim officials whom I selected,cheap adidas shoes for sale.
I told them. And then I told them why I had told them-that I felt they should not be caught by surpriseand shock if it became their job to teach the Muslims in their mosques the "fulfillment of prophecy." Ifound then that some had already heard it; one of them, Minister Louis X of Boston, as much as sevenmonths before. They had been living with the dilemma themselves.
I never dreamed that the Chicago Muslim officials were going to make it appear that I was throwinggasoline on the fire instead of water. I never dreamed that they were going to try to make it appearthat instead of inoculating against an epidemic, I had started it.
The stage in Chicago even then was being set for Muslims to shift their focus off the epidemic-andonto me.
Hating me was going to become the cause for people of shattered faith to rally around.
Non-Muslim Negroes who knew me well, and even some of the white reporters with whom I hadsome regular contact, were telling me, almost wherever I went, "Malcolm X, you're looking tired. Youneed a rest."They didn't know a fraction of it. Since I had been a Muslim, this was the first time any white peoplereally got to me in a personal way. I could tell that some of them were really honest and sincere. Oneof these, whose name I won't call-he might lose his job-said,Homepage, "Malcolm X,cheap foamposites, the whites need your voiceworse than the Negroes." I remember so well his saying this because it prefaced the first time since Ibecame a Muslim that I had ever talked with any white man at any length about anything except theNation of Islam and the American black man's struggle today.
I can't remember how, or why, he somehow happened to mention the Dead Sea Scrolls. I came backwith something like, "Yes, those scrolls are going to take Jesus off the stained-glass windows and thefrescoes where he has been lily-white, and put Him back into the true mainstream of history whereJesus actually was non-white,nike foamposites." The reporter was surprised, and I went on that the Dead Sea Scrollswere going to reaffirm that Jesus was a member of that brotherhood of Egyptian seers called the Essene-a fact already known from Philo, the famous Egyptian historian of Jesus' time. And thereporter and I got off on about two good hours of talking in the areas of archaeology, history, andreligion. It was so pleasant. I almost forgot the heavy worries on my mind-for that brief respite. Iremember we wound up agreeing that by the year 2000, every schoolchild will be taught the true colorof great men of antiquity.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Interval of two years The final dictation
Interval of two years
The final dictation, beginning January 9, 1906.Present Mr. Clemens, Mr. Paine,Miss Hobby, stenographer.
Chapter 28
Mr.Clemens to Mr. Paine(January 9, 1906)The more I think of this [the biography], the more nearly impossible the project seems. The difficulties of it grow upon me all the time. For instance, the idea of blocking out a consecutive series of events which have happened to me, or which I imagine have happened to me--I can see that that is impossible for me. The only thing possible for me is to talk about the thing that something suggests at the moment--something in the middle of my life, perhaps, or something that happened only a few months ago. It is my purpose to extend these notes to 600,000 words, and possibly more. But that is going to take a long time--a long time.My idea is this: that I write an autobiography. When that autobiography is finished--or before it is finished, but no doubt after it is finished--then you take the manuscript and decide on how much of a biography to make. But this is no holiday excursion--it is a journey.We will try this--see whether it is dull or interesting--whether it will bore us and we will want to commit suicide. I hate to get at it. I hate to begin, but I imagine if you are here to make suggestions from time to time, we can make it go along, instead of having it drag.Now let me see, there was something I wanted to talk about, and I supposed it would stay in my head. I know what it is--about the Big Bonanza in Nevada.I want to read from the commercial columns of the New York Times, of a day or two ago, what practically was the beginning of the great Bonanza in Nevada, and these details seem to me to be correct--that in Nevada, during 1871, John Mackay and Fair got control of the Consolidated Virginia Mine for $26,000; that in 1873, two years later, its 108,000 shares sold at $45 per share; and that it was at that time that Fair made the famous silver ore find of the great Bonanza. Also, according to these statistics, in November, '74 the stock went to 115, and in the following month--January, '75--it reached 700. The shares of the companion mine, the California, rose in four months from 37 to 780--a total property which in 1869 was valued on the Mining Exchange at $40,000, was quoted six years later at $160,000,000. I think those dates are correct. That great Bonanza occupies a rather prominent place in my mind for the reason that I knew persons connected with it. For instance, I knew John Mackay very well--that would be in 1862, '63, and '64, I should say. I don't remember what he was doing when I came to Virginia in 1862, from starving to death down in the so-called mines of Esmeralda, which consisted in that day merely of silver-bearing quartz--plenty of bearing, and didn't have much load to carry in the way of silver--and it was a happy thing for me when I was summoned to come up to Virginia City to be local editor of the Virginia City Enterprise during three months, while Mr. William H. Wright (Dan de Quille) should go east, to Iowa, and visit his family, whom he hadn't seen for some years. I took the position of local editor with joy, because there was a salary of forty dollars a week attached to it and I knew that that was all of forty dollars more than I was worth, and I had always wanted a position which paid in the opposite proportion of value to amount of work. I took that position with pleasure, not with confidence--but I had a difficult job--a difficult job. I was to furnish one column of leaded nonpareil every day, and as much more as I could get on paper before the paper should go to press at two o'clock in the morning. By and by, in the course of a few months, I met John Mackay, with whom I had already been well acquainted for some time. He had established a broker's office on C Street, in a new frame house, and it was rather sumptuous for that day and place, for it had part of a carpet on the floor and two chairs instead of a candle box. I was envious of Mackay, who had not been in such very smooth circumstances as this before, and I offered to trade places with him--take his business and let him have mine--and he asked me how much mine was worth. I said forty dollars a week. He said: "I never swindled anybody in my life, and I don't want to begin on you. This business of mine is not worth forty dollars a week. You stay where you are and I will try to get a living out of this."I left Nevada in 1864 to avoid a term in the penitentiary (in another chapter I shall have to explain that) so that it was all of ten years, apparently, before John Mackay developed suddenly into the first of the hundred-millionaires. Apparently his prosperity began in '71--that discovery was made in '71. I know how it was made. I remember those details, for they came across the country to me in Hartford. There was a tunnel 1,700 feet long which struck in from way down on the slope of the mountain and passed under some portion of Virginia City, at a great depth. It was striking for a lode which it did not find, and I think it had been long abandoned. Now it was in groping around in that tunnel that Mr. Fair (afterward U. S. Senator and great multi-millionaire, who was at that time a day laborer working with pick and shovel at five dollars a day)--groping around in that abandoned tunnel to see what he could find--no doubt looking for cross lodes and blind veins--came across a body of rich ore--so the story ran--and he came and reported that to John Mackay. They examined this body of rich ore and found that there was a very great deposit of it. They prospected it in the usual way and proved its magnitude and that it was extremely rich. They thought it was a "chimney," belonging probably to the California, away up on the mountain-side, which had an abandoned shaft--or possibly the Virginia mine which was not worked then--nobody caring anything about the Virginia, an empty mine. And these men determined that this body of ore properly belonged to the California mine and by some trick of nature had been shaken down the mountain-side. They got O'Brien--who was a silver expert in San Francisco--to come in as capitalist, and they bought up a controlling interest in that abandoned mine, and no doubt got it at that figure--$26,000--six years later to be worth $160,000,000.As I say, I was not there. I had been here in the East, six, seven, or eight years--but friends of mine were interested. John P. Jones, who has lately resigned as U. S. Senator after an uninterrupted term of perhaps thirty years--John P. Jones was not a Senator yet, but was living in San Francisco. And he had a great affection for a couple of old friends of mine--Joseph T. Goodman and Dennis McCarthy. They had been proprietors of that paper that I served--the Virginia City Enterprise--and had enjoyed great prosperity in that position. They were young journeymen printers, typesetting in San Francisco in 1858, and they went over the mountains--the Sierras--for they heard of the discovery of silver in that unknown region of Nevada, to push their fortunes. When they arrived at that miserable little camp, Virginia City, they had no money to push their fortunes with. They had only youth, energy, hope. They found Williams there ("Stud" Williams was his society name), who had started a weekly newspaper, and he had one journeyman, who set up the paper, and printed it on a hand press with Williams's help and the help of a Chinaman--and they all slept in one room--cooked and slept and worked, and disseminated intelligence in this paper of theirs. Well, Williams was in debt fourteen dollars. He didn't see any way to get out of it with his newspaper, and so he sold the paper to Dennis McCarthy and Goodman for two hundred dollars, they to assume the debt of fourteen dollars and to pay the $200, in this world or the next--there was no definite promise about that. But as Virginia City developed they discovered new mines, new people began to flock in, and there was talk of a faro bank and a church and all those things that go to make a frontier Christian city, and there was vast prosperity there, and Goodman and Dennis reaped the advantage of that. Their prosperity was so great that they built a three-story brick building, which was a wonderful thing for that town, and their business increased so mightily that they would often plant out eleven columns of new ads on a standing galley and leave them there to sleep and rest and breed income. When any man objected, after searching the paper in the hope of seeing his advertisement, they would say. "We are doing the best we can." Now and then the advertisements would appear, but the standing galley was doing its work all the time. But after a time, when that territory was turned into a state, in order to furnish office for some people who needed office, their paper, from paying those boys twenty to forty thousand dollars a year, had ceased to pay anything. I suppose they were very glad to get rid of it, and probably on the old terms, to some journeyman who was willing to take the old fourteen dollars indebtedness and pay it when he could.These boys went down to San Francisco, setting type again. They were delightful fellows, always ready for a good time, and that meant that everybody got their money except themselves. And when the Bonanza was about to be discovered Joe Goodman arrived here from somewhere that he'd been--I suppose trying to make business, or a livelihood, or something--and he came to see me to borrow three hundred dollars to take him out to San Francisco. And if I remember rightly he had no prospect in front of him at all, but thought he would be more likely to find it out there among the old friends, and he went to San Francisco. He arrived there just in time to meet Jones (afterwards U. S. Senator), who was a delightful man. Jones met him and said privately, "There has been a great discovery made in Nevada, and I am on the inside." Dennis was setting type in one of the offices there. He was married and was building a wooden house to cost $1,800, and he had paid a part and was building it on installments out of his wages. And Jones said: "I am going to put you and Dennis in privately on the big Bonanza. I am on the inside, I will watch it, and we will put this money up on a margin. Therefore when I say it is time to sell, it will be very necessary to sell." So he put up 20-per-cent margins for those two boys--and that is the time when this great spurt must have happened which sent that stock up to the stars in one flight--because, as the history was told to me by Joe Goodman, when that thing happened Jones said to Goodman and Dennis:"Now then, sell. You can come out $600,000 ahead, each of you, and that is enough. Sell.""No," Joe objected, "it will go higher."Jones said: "I am on the inside; you are not. Sell."Joe's wife implored him to sell. He wouldn't do it. Dennis's family implored him to sell. Dennis wouldn't sell. And so it went on during two weeks. Each time the stock made a flight Jones tried to get the boys to sell. They wouldn't do it. They said, "It is going higher." When he said, "Sell at $900,000," they said, "No. It will go to million."Then the stock began to go down very rapidly. After a little, Joe sold, and he got out with $600,000 cash, Dennis waited for the million, but he never got a cent. His holding was sold for the "mud"--so that he came out without anything and had to begin again setting type.That is the story as it was told to me many years ago--I imagine by Joe Goodman; I don't remember now. Dennis, by and by, died poor--never got a start again.Joe Goodman immediately went into the broker business. Six hundred thousand dollars was just good capital. He wasn't in a position to retire yet. And he sent me the $300, and said that now he had started in the broking business and that he was making an abundance of money. I didn't hear any more then for a long time; then I learned that he had not been content with mere broking, but had speculated on his own account and lost everything he had. And when that happened, John Mackay, who was always a good friend of the unfortunate, lent him $4,000 to buy a grape ranch with, in Fresno County, and Joe went up there. He didn't know anything about the grape culture, but he and his wife learned it in a very little while. He learned it a little better than anybody else, and got a good living out of it until 1886 or '87; then he sold it for several times what he paid for it originally.He was here a year ago and I saw him. He lives in the garden of California--in Alameda. Before this Eastern visit he had been putting in twelve years of his time in the most unpromising and difficult and stubborn study that anybody has undertaken since Champollion's time; for he undertook to find out what those sculptures mean that they find down there in the forests of Central America. And he did find out and published a great book, the result of his twelve years of study. In this book he furnishes the meanings of those hieroglyphs, and his position as a successful expert in that complex study is recognized by the scientists in that line in London and Berlin and elsewhere. But he is no better known than he was before--he is known only to those people. His book was published in about 1901.This account in the New York Times says that in consequence of that strike in the great Bonanza a tempest of speculation ensued, and that the group of mines right around that center reached a value in the stock market of close upon $400,000,000; and six months after that, that value had been reduced by three-quarters; and by 1880, five years later, the stock of the Consolidated Virginia was under $2 a share, and the stock in the California was only $1.75--for the Bonanza was now confessedly exhausted.
The final dictation, beginning January 9, 1906.Present Mr. Clemens, Mr. Paine,Miss Hobby, stenographer.
Chapter 28
Mr.Clemens to Mr. Paine(January 9, 1906)The more I think of this [the biography], the more nearly impossible the project seems. The difficulties of it grow upon me all the time. For instance, the idea of blocking out a consecutive series of events which have happened to me, or which I imagine have happened to me--I can see that that is impossible for me. The only thing possible for me is to talk about the thing that something suggests at the moment--something in the middle of my life, perhaps, or something that happened only a few months ago. It is my purpose to extend these notes to 600,000 words, and possibly more. But that is going to take a long time--a long time.My idea is this: that I write an autobiography. When that autobiography is finished--or before it is finished, but no doubt after it is finished--then you take the manuscript and decide on how much of a biography to make. But this is no holiday excursion--it is a journey.We will try this--see whether it is dull or interesting--whether it will bore us and we will want to commit suicide. I hate to get at it. I hate to begin, but I imagine if you are here to make suggestions from time to time, we can make it go along, instead of having it drag.Now let me see, there was something I wanted to talk about, and I supposed it would stay in my head. I know what it is--about the Big Bonanza in Nevada.I want to read from the commercial columns of the New York Times, of a day or two ago, what practically was the beginning of the great Bonanza in Nevada, and these details seem to me to be correct--that in Nevada, during 1871, John Mackay and Fair got control of the Consolidated Virginia Mine for $26,000; that in 1873, two years later, its 108,000 shares sold at $45 per share; and that it was at that time that Fair made the famous silver ore find of the great Bonanza. Also, according to these statistics, in November, '74 the stock went to 115, and in the following month--January, '75--it reached 700. The shares of the companion mine, the California, rose in four months from 37 to 780--a total property which in 1869 was valued on the Mining Exchange at $40,000, was quoted six years later at $160,000,000. I think those dates are correct. That great Bonanza occupies a rather prominent place in my mind for the reason that I knew persons connected with it. For instance, I knew John Mackay very well--that would be in 1862, '63, and '64, I should say. I don't remember what he was doing when I came to Virginia in 1862, from starving to death down in the so-called mines of Esmeralda, which consisted in that day merely of silver-bearing quartz--plenty of bearing, and didn't have much load to carry in the way of silver--and it was a happy thing for me when I was summoned to come up to Virginia City to be local editor of the Virginia City Enterprise during three months, while Mr. William H. Wright (Dan de Quille) should go east, to Iowa, and visit his family, whom he hadn't seen for some years. I took the position of local editor with joy, because there was a salary of forty dollars a week attached to it and I knew that that was all of forty dollars more than I was worth, and I had always wanted a position which paid in the opposite proportion of value to amount of work. I took that position with pleasure, not with confidence--but I had a difficult job--a difficult job. I was to furnish one column of leaded nonpareil every day, and as much more as I could get on paper before the paper should go to press at two o'clock in the morning. By and by, in the course of a few months, I met John Mackay, with whom I had already been well acquainted for some time. He had established a broker's office on C Street, in a new frame house, and it was rather sumptuous for that day and place, for it had part of a carpet on the floor and two chairs instead of a candle box. I was envious of Mackay, who had not been in such very smooth circumstances as this before, and I offered to trade places with him--take his business and let him have mine--and he asked me how much mine was worth. I said forty dollars a week. He said: "I never swindled anybody in my life, and I don't want to begin on you. This business of mine is not worth forty dollars a week. You stay where you are and I will try to get a living out of this."I left Nevada in 1864 to avoid a term in the penitentiary (in another chapter I shall have to explain that) so that it was all of ten years, apparently, before John Mackay developed suddenly into the first of the hundred-millionaires. Apparently his prosperity began in '71--that discovery was made in '71. I know how it was made. I remember those details, for they came across the country to me in Hartford. There was a tunnel 1,700 feet long which struck in from way down on the slope of the mountain and passed under some portion of Virginia City, at a great depth. It was striking for a lode which it did not find, and I think it had been long abandoned. Now it was in groping around in that tunnel that Mr. Fair (afterward U. S. Senator and great multi-millionaire, who was at that time a day laborer working with pick and shovel at five dollars a day)--groping around in that abandoned tunnel to see what he could find--no doubt looking for cross lodes and blind veins--came across a body of rich ore--so the story ran--and he came and reported that to John Mackay. They examined this body of rich ore and found that there was a very great deposit of it. They prospected it in the usual way and proved its magnitude and that it was extremely rich. They thought it was a "chimney," belonging probably to the California, away up on the mountain-side, which had an abandoned shaft--or possibly the Virginia mine which was not worked then--nobody caring anything about the Virginia, an empty mine. And these men determined that this body of ore properly belonged to the California mine and by some trick of nature had been shaken down the mountain-side. They got O'Brien--who was a silver expert in San Francisco--to come in as capitalist, and they bought up a controlling interest in that abandoned mine, and no doubt got it at that figure--$26,000--six years later to be worth $160,000,000.As I say, I was not there. I had been here in the East, six, seven, or eight years--but friends of mine were interested. John P. Jones, who has lately resigned as U. S. Senator after an uninterrupted term of perhaps thirty years--John P. Jones was not a Senator yet, but was living in San Francisco. And he had a great affection for a couple of old friends of mine--Joseph T. Goodman and Dennis McCarthy. They had been proprietors of that paper that I served--the Virginia City Enterprise--and had enjoyed great prosperity in that position. They were young journeymen printers, typesetting in San Francisco in 1858, and they went over the mountains--the Sierras--for they heard of the discovery of silver in that unknown region of Nevada, to push their fortunes. When they arrived at that miserable little camp, Virginia City, they had no money to push their fortunes with. They had only youth, energy, hope. They found Williams there ("Stud" Williams was his society name), who had started a weekly newspaper, and he had one journeyman, who set up the paper, and printed it on a hand press with Williams's help and the help of a Chinaman--and they all slept in one room--cooked and slept and worked, and disseminated intelligence in this paper of theirs. Well, Williams was in debt fourteen dollars. He didn't see any way to get out of it with his newspaper, and so he sold the paper to Dennis McCarthy and Goodman for two hundred dollars, they to assume the debt of fourteen dollars and to pay the $200, in this world or the next--there was no definite promise about that. But as Virginia City developed they discovered new mines, new people began to flock in, and there was talk of a faro bank and a church and all those things that go to make a frontier Christian city, and there was vast prosperity there, and Goodman and Dennis reaped the advantage of that. Their prosperity was so great that they built a three-story brick building, which was a wonderful thing for that town, and their business increased so mightily that they would often plant out eleven columns of new ads on a standing galley and leave them there to sleep and rest and breed income. When any man objected, after searching the paper in the hope of seeing his advertisement, they would say. "We are doing the best we can." Now and then the advertisements would appear, but the standing galley was doing its work all the time. But after a time, when that territory was turned into a state, in order to furnish office for some people who needed office, their paper, from paying those boys twenty to forty thousand dollars a year, had ceased to pay anything. I suppose they were very glad to get rid of it, and probably on the old terms, to some journeyman who was willing to take the old fourteen dollars indebtedness and pay it when he could.These boys went down to San Francisco, setting type again. They were delightful fellows, always ready for a good time, and that meant that everybody got their money except themselves. And when the Bonanza was about to be discovered Joe Goodman arrived here from somewhere that he'd been--I suppose trying to make business, or a livelihood, or something--and he came to see me to borrow three hundred dollars to take him out to San Francisco. And if I remember rightly he had no prospect in front of him at all, but thought he would be more likely to find it out there among the old friends, and he went to San Francisco. He arrived there just in time to meet Jones (afterwards U. S. Senator), who was a delightful man. Jones met him and said privately, "There has been a great discovery made in Nevada, and I am on the inside." Dennis was setting type in one of the offices there. He was married and was building a wooden house to cost $1,800, and he had paid a part and was building it on installments out of his wages. And Jones said: "I am going to put you and Dennis in privately on the big Bonanza. I am on the inside, I will watch it, and we will put this money up on a margin. Therefore when I say it is time to sell, it will be very necessary to sell." So he put up 20-per-cent margins for those two boys--and that is the time when this great spurt must have happened which sent that stock up to the stars in one flight--because, as the history was told to me by Joe Goodman, when that thing happened Jones said to Goodman and Dennis:"Now then, sell. You can come out $600,000 ahead, each of you, and that is enough. Sell.""No," Joe objected, "it will go higher."Jones said: "I am on the inside; you are not. Sell."Joe's wife implored him to sell. He wouldn't do it. Dennis's family implored him to sell. Dennis wouldn't sell. And so it went on during two weeks. Each time the stock made a flight Jones tried to get the boys to sell. They wouldn't do it. They said, "It is going higher." When he said, "Sell at $900,000," they said, "No. It will go to million."Then the stock began to go down very rapidly. After a little, Joe sold, and he got out with $600,000 cash, Dennis waited for the million, but he never got a cent. His holding was sold for the "mud"--so that he came out without anything and had to begin again setting type.That is the story as it was told to me many years ago--I imagine by Joe Goodman; I don't remember now. Dennis, by and by, died poor--never got a start again.Joe Goodman immediately went into the broker business. Six hundred thousand dollars was just good capital. He wasn't in a position to retire yet. And he sent me the $300, and said that now he had started in the broking business and that he was making an abundance of money. I didn't hear any more then for a long time; then I learned that he had not been content with mere broking, but had speculated on his own account and lost everything he had. And when that happened, John Mackay, who was always a good friend of the unfortunate, lent him $4,000 to buy a grape ranch with, in Fresno County, and Joe went up there. He didn't know anything about the grape culture, but he and his wife learned it in a very little while. He learned it a little better than anybody else, and got a good living out of it until 1886 or '87; then he sold it for several times what he paid for it originally.He was here a year ago and I saw him. He lives in the garden of California--in Alameda. Before this Eastern visit he had been putting in twelve years of his time in the most unpromising and difficult and stubborn study that anybody has undertaken since Champollion's time; for he undertook to find out what those sculptures mean that they find down there in the forests of Central America. And he did find out and published a great book, the result of his twelve years of study. In this book he furnishes the meanings of those hieroglyphs, and his position as a successful expert in that complex study is recognized by the scientists in that line in London and Berlin and elsewhere. But he is no better known than he was before--he is known only to those people. His book was published in about 1901.This account in the New York Times says that in consequence of that strike in the great Bonanza a tempest of speculation ensued, and that the group of mines right around that center reached a value in the stock market of close upon $400,000,000; and six months after that, that value had been reduced by three-quarters; and by 1880, five years later, the stock of the Consolidated Virginia was under $2 a share, and the stock in the California was only $1.75--for the Bonanza was now confessedly exhausted.
Thinking it now high time to retire with my booty
Thinking it now high time to retire with my booty, I asked if anybody would take my place, and made a notion to rise; upon which an old Gascon, who sat opposite to me, and of whom I had won a little money, started up with fury in his looks, crying, “Restez, foutre, restez! il faut donner moi mon ravanchio!” At the same time, a Jew, who sat near the other, insinuated that I was more beholden to art than fortune for what I had got; that he had observed me wipe the table very often, and that some of the divisions appeared to be greasy. This intimation produced a great deal of clamour against me, especially among the losers, who threatened with many oaths and imprecations, to take me up by a warrant as a sharper, unless I would compromise the affair by refunding the greatest part of my winning. Though I was far from being easy under his accusation, I relied upon my innocence, threatened in my turn to prosecute the Jew, for defamation, and boldly offered to submit my cause to the examination of any justice in Westminster; but they knew themselves too well to put their characters on that issue, and finding that I was not to be intimidated into any concession, dropped their plea, and made way for me to withdraw. I would not, however, stir from the table until the Israelite had retracted what he had said to my disadvantage, and asked pardon before the whole assembly.
As I marched out with my prize, I happened to tread on the toes of a tall raw-boned fellow, with a hooked nose, fierce eyes, black thick eyebrows, a pigtail wig of the same colour, and a formidable hat pulled over his forehead, who stood gnawing his fingers in the crowd, and he sooner felt the application of my shoe heel, than he roared out in a tremendous voice, “Blood and wounds! you son of a whore, what’s that for?” I asked pardon with a great deal of submission, and protested I had no intention of hurting him; but the more I humbled myself the more he stormed, and insisted on gentlemanly satisfaction, at the same time provoking me with scandalous names that I could not put up with; so that I gave loose to my passion, returned his Billingsgate, and challenged him down to the piazzas. His indignation cooling as mine warmed, he refused my invitation, saying he would choose his own time, and returned towards the table muttering threats, which I neither dreaded nor distinctly beard; but, descending with great deliberation, received my sword from the door-keeper, whom I gratified with a guinea, according to the custom of the place, and went home in a rapture of joy.
My faithful valet, who had set up all night in the utmost uneasiness on my account, let me in with his face beslubbered with tears, and followed me to my chamber, where he stood silent like a condemned criminal, in expectation of hearing that every shilling was spent, I guessed the situation of his thoughts, and, assuming a sullen look, bade him fetch me some water to wash. He replied, without lifting his eyes from the ground, “In my simple conjecture, you have more occasion for rest, not having (I suppose) slept these four-and-twenty hours.” “Bring me some water!” said I, in a peremptory tone; upon which he sneaked away shrugging his shoulders. Before he returned, I had spread my whole stock on the table in the most ostentatious manner; so that, when it first saluted his view, he stood like one entranced; and, having rubbed his eyes more than once, to assure himself of his being awake, broke out into, “Lord have mercy upon us, what a vast treasure is here!” “’Tis all our own, Strap,” said I; “take what is necessary, and redeem the sword immediately.” He advanced towards the table, stopped short by the way, looked at the money and me by turns, and with a wildness in his countenance, produced from joy checked by distrust, cried, “I dare say it is honestly come by.” To remove his scruples, I made him acquainted with the whole story of my success, which, when he heard, he danced about the room in an ecstacy, crying, “God be praised! — a white stone! — God be praised! — a white stone!” So that I was afraid the change of fortune bad disordered his intellects, and that he was run mad with joy. Extremely concerned at this event, I attempted to reason him out of his frenzy, but to no purpose; for without regarding what I said, he continued to frisk up and down, and repeat his rhapsody, of “God be praised! — a white stone!” At last, I rose in the utmost consternation, and, laying violent hands upon him, put a stop to his extravagance by fixing him down to a settee that was in the room. This constraint banished his delirium; he started as if just awoke, and terrified at my behaviour, cried, “What is the matter!” When he learned the cause of my apprehension, he was ashamed of his transports, and told me, that in mentioning the white stone, he alluded to the Dies fast of the Romans, alibi lapped knotty.
As I marched out with my prize, I happened to tread on the toes of a tall raw-boned fellow, with a hooked nose, fierce eyes, black thick eyebrows, a pigtail wig of the same colour, and a formidable hat pulled over his forehead, who stood gnawing his fingers in the crowd, and he sooner felt the application of my shoe heel, than he roared out in a tremendous voice, “Blood and wounds! you son of a whore, what’s that for?” I asked pardon with a great deal of submission, and protested I had no intention of hurting him; but the more I humbled myself the more he stormed, and insisted on gentlemanly satisfaction, at the same time provoking me with scandalous names that I could not put up with; so that I gave loose to my passion, returned his Billingsgate, and challenged him down to the piazzas. His indignation cooling as mine warmed, he refused my invitation, saying he would choose his own time, and returned towards the table muttering threats, which I neither dreaded nor distinctly beard; but, descending with great deliberation, received my sword from the door-keeper, whom I gratified with a guinea, according to the custom of the place, and went home in a rapture of joy.
My faithful valet, who had set up all night in the utmost uneasiness on my account, let me in with his face beslubbered with tears, and followed me to my chamber, where he stood silent like a condemned criminal, in expectation of hearing that every shilling was spent, I guessed the situation of his thoughts, and, assuming a sullen look, bade him fetch me some water to wash. He replied, without lifting his eyes from the ground, “In my simple conjecture, you have more occasion for rest, not having (I suppose) slept these four-and-twenty hours.” “Bring me some water!” said I, in a peremptory tone; upon which he sneaked away shrugging his shoulders. Before he returned, I had spread my whole stock on the table in the most ostentatious manner; so that, when it first saluted his view, he stood like one entranced; and, having rubbed his eyes more than once, to assure himself of his being awake, broke out into, “Lord have mercy upon us, what a vast treasure is here!” “’Tis all our own, Strap,” said I; “take what is necessary, and redeem the sword immediately.” He advanced towards the table, stopped short by the way, looked at the money and me by turns, and with a wildness in his countenance, produced from joy checked by distrust, cried, “I dare say it is honestly come by.” To remove his scruples, I made him acquainted with the whole story of my success, which, when he heard, he danced about the room in an ecstacy, crying, “God be praised! — a white stone! — God be praised! — a white stone!” So that I was afraid the change of fortune bad disordered his intellects, and that he was run mad with joy. Extremely concerned at this event, I attempted to reason him out of his frenzy, but to no purpose; for without regarding what I said, he continued to frisk up and down, and repeat his rhapsody, of “God be praised! — a white stone!” At last, I rose in the utmost consternation, and, laying violent hands upon him, put a stop to his extravagance by fixing him down to a settee that was in the room. This constraint banished his delirium; he started as if just awoke, and terrified at my behaviour, cried, “What is the matter!” When he learned the cause of my apprehension, he was ashamed of his transports, and told me, that in mentioning the white stone, he alluded to the Dies fast of the Romans, alibi lapped knotty.
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Ive already seen many things and been through a lot no man of a right mind would want to see or go t
. . . Bill, Ive already seen many things and been through a lot no man of a right mind would want to see or go through. Over here, they play for keeps. And its either win or lose. Its not a pretty sight to see a buddy you live with and become so close to, to have him die beside you and you know it was for no good reason. And you realize how easily it could have been you.
I work for a Lieutenant Colonel. I am his bodyguard. . ,HOMEPAGE. . On the 21st of November we came to a place called Winchester. Our helicopter let us off and the Colonel, myself, and two other men started looking over the area . . . there were two NVAs [North Vietnamese Army soldiers] in a bunker, they opened up on us. . . . The Colonel got hit and the two others were hit. Bill, that day I prayed. Fortunately I got the two of them before they got me. I killed my first man that day. And Bill, its an awful feeling, to know you took another mans life. Its a sickening feeling. And then you realize how it could have been you just as easily.
The next day, January 13, I went to London for my draft exam,Moncler Sale. The doctor declared me, according to my fanciful diary notes, one of the healthiest specimens in the western world, suitable for display at medical schools, exhibitions, zoos,Moncler Jackets For Women, carnivals, and base training camps. On the fifteenth I saw Edward Albees A Delicate Balance, which was my second surrealistic experience in as many days. Albees characters forced the audience to wonder if some day near the end they wont wake up and find themselves hollow and afraid. I was already wondering that.
President Nixon was inaugurated on January 20. His speech was an attempt at reconciliation, but it left me pretty cold, the preaching of good old middle-class religion and virtues. They will supposedly solve our problems with the Asians, who do not come from the Judeo-Christian tradition; the Communists, who do not even believe in God; the blacks, who have been shafted so often by God-fearing white men that there is hardly any common ground left between them; and the kids, who have heard those same song-and-dance sermons sung false so many times they may prefer dope to the audacious self-delusion of their elders. Ironically, I believed in Christianity and middle-class virtues, too; they just didnt lead me to the same place. I thought living out our true religious and political principles would require us to reach deeper and go further than Mr,Moncler Outlet. Nixon was prepared to go.
I decided to get back into my own life in England for whatever time I had left. I went to my first Oxford Union debateResolved: that man created God in his own image, a potentially fertile subject poorly ploughed. I went north to Manchester, and marveled at the beauty of the English countryside quilted by those ancient rock walls without mortar or mud or cement. There was a seminar on Pluralism as a Concept of Democratic Theory, which I found boring, just another attempt to explain in more complex (therefore, more meaningful, of course) terms what is going on before our own eyes. . . . It is only so much dog-dripping to me because I am at root not intellectual, not conceptual about the actual, just damn well not smart enough, I reckon, to run in this fast crowd.
I work for a Lieutenant Colonel. I am his bodyguard. . ,HOMEPAGE. . On the 21st of November we came to a place called Winchester. Our helicopter let us off and the Colonel, myself, and two other men started looking over the area . . . there were two NVAs [North Vietnamese Army soldiers] in a bunker, they opened up on us. . . . The Colonel got hit and the two others were hit. Bill, that day I prayed. Fortunately I got the two of them before they got me. I killed my first man that day. And Bill, its an awful feeling, to know you took another mans life. Its a sickening feeling. And then you realize how it could have been you just as easily.
The next day, January 13, I went to London for my draft exam,Moncler Sale. The doctor declared me, according to my fanciful diary notes, one of the healthiest specimens in the western world, suitable for display at medical schools, exhibitions, zoos,Moncler Jackets For Women, carnivals, and base training camps. On the fifteenth I saw Edward Albees A Delicate Balance, which was my second surrealistic experience in as many days. Albees characters forced the audience to wonder if some day near the end they wont wake up and find themselves hollow and afraid. I was already wondering that.
President Nixon was inaugurated on January 20. His speech was an attempt at reconciliation, but it left me pretty cold, the preaching of good old middle-class religion and virtues. They will supposedly solve our problems with the Asians, who do not come from the Judeo-Christian tradition; the Communists, who do not even believe in God; the blacks, who have been shafted so often by God-fearing white men that there is hardly any common ground left between them; and the kids, who have heard those same song-and-dance sermons sung false so many times they may prefer dope to the audacious self-delusion of their elders. Ironically, I believed in Christianity and middle-class virtues, too; they just didnt lead me to the same place. I thought living out our true religious and political principles would require us to reach deeper and go further than Mr,Moncler Outlet. Nixon was prepared to go.
I decided to get back into my own life in England for whatever time I had left. I went to my first Oxford Union debateResolved: that man created God in his own image, a potentially fertile subject poorly ploughed. I went north to Manchester, and marveled at the beauty of the English countryside quilted by those ancient rock walls without mortar or mud or cement. There was a seminar on Pluralism as a Concept of Democratic Theory, which I found boring, just another attempt to explain in more complex (therefore, more meaningful, of course) terms what is going on before our own eyes. . . . It is only so much dog-dripping to me because I am at root not intellectual, not conceptual about the actual, just damn well not smart enough, I reckon, to run in this fast crowd.
The gardener who had been with us in former days stopped me as I drove up the road
The gardener who had been with us in former days stopped me as I drove up the road, and with gestures, signs,moncler winter outwear jackets, and whispered words, gave me to understand that the whole affair — horse, gig, and barness — would be made prize of if I went but a few yards farther. Why they should not have been made prize of I do not know. The little piece of dishonest business which I at once took in hand and carried through successfully was of no special service to any of us. I drove the gig into the village, and sold the entire equipage to the ironmonger for ￡17, the exact sum which he claimed as being due to himself. I was much complimented by the gardener, who seemed to think that so much had been rescued out of the fire,http://www.moncleroutletonlinestore.com/. I fancy that the ironmonger was the only gainer by my smartness.
When I got back to the house a scene of devastation was in progress, which still was not without its amusement. My mother, through her various troubles, had contrived to keep a certain number of pretty-pretties which were dear to her heart. They were not much, for in those days the ornamentation of houses was not lavish as it is now; but there was some china, and a little glass, a few books, and a very moderate supply of household silver. These things, and things like them, were being carried down surreptitiously, through a gap between the two gardens, on to the premises of our friend Colonel Grant. My two sisters, then sixteen and seventeen, and the Grant girls, who were just younger, were the chief marauders,cheap jeremy scott adidas wings. To such forces I was happy to add myself for any enterprise, and between us we cheated the creditors to the extent of our powers, amidst the anathemas, but good-humoured abstinence from personal violence, of the men in charge of the property. I still own a few books that were thus purloined.
For a few days the whole family bivouacked under the Colonel’s hospitable roof, cared for and comforted by that dearest of all women, his wife. Then we followed my father to Belgium, and established ourselves in a large house just outside the walls of Bruges. At this time, and till my father’s death, everything was done with money earned by my mother. She now again furnished the house — this being the third that she had put in order since she came back from America two years and a half ago.
There were six of us went into this new banishment. My brother Henry had left Cambridge and was ill. My younger sister was ill. And though as yet we hardly told each other that it was so, we began to feel that that desolating fiend, consumption, was among us. My father was broken-hearted as well as ill, but whenever he could sit at his table he still worked at his ecclesiastical records. My elder sister and I were in good health, but I was an idle, desolate hanger-on, that most hopeless of human beings, a hobbledehoy of nineteen, without any idea of a career, or a profession, or a trade. As well as I can remember I was fairly happy,cheap adidas shoes for sale, for there were pretty girls at Bruges with whom I could fancy that I was in love; and I had been removed from the real misery of school. But as to my future life I had not even an aspiration. Now and again there would arise a feeling that it was hard upon my mother that she should have to do so much for us, that we should be idle while she was forced to work so constantly; but we should probably have thought more of that had she not taken to work as though it were the recognised condition of life for an old lady of fifty-five.
When I got back to the house a scene of devastation was in progress, which still was not without its amusement. My mother, through her various troubles, had contrived to keep a certain number of pretty-pretties which were dear to her heart. They were not much, for in those days the ornamentation of houses was not lavish as it is now; but there was some china, and a little glass, a few books, and a very moderate supply of household silver. These things, and things like them, were being carried down surreptitiously, through a gap between the two gardens, on to the premises of our friend Colonel Grant. My two sisters, then sixteen and seventeen, and the Grant girls, who were just younger, were the chief marauders,cheap jeremy scott adidas wings. To such forces I was happy to add myself for any enterprise, and between us we cheated the creditors to the extent of our powers, amidst the anathemas, but good-humoured abstinence from personal violence, of the men in charge of the property. I still own a few books that were thus purloined.
For a few days the whole family bivouacked under the Colonel’s hospitable roof, cared for and comforted by that dearest of all women, his wife. Then we followed my father to Belgium, and established ourselves in a large house just outside the walls of Bruges. At this time, and till my father’s death, everything was done with money earned by my mother. She now again furnished the house — this being the third that she had put in order since she came back from America two years and a half ago.
There were six of us went into this new banishment. My brother Henry had left Cambridge and was ill. My younger sister was ill. And though as yet we hardly told each other that it was so, we began to feel that that desolating fiend, consumption, was among us. My father was broken-hearted as well as ill, but whenever he could sit at his table he still worked at his ecclesiastical records. My elder sister and I were in good health, but I was an idle, desolate hanger-on, that most hopeless of human beings, a hobbledehoy of nineteen, without any idea of a career, or a profession, or a trade. As well as I can remember I was fairly happy,cheap adidas shoes for sale, for there were pretty girls at Bruges with whom I could fancy that I was in love; and I had been removed from the real misery of school. But as to my future life I had not even an aspiration. Now and again there would arise a feeling that it was hard upon my mother that she should have to do so much for us, that we should be idle while she was forced to work so constantly; but we should probably have thought more of that had she not taken to work as though it were the recognised condition of life for an old lady of fifty-five.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
With a pang of anguish
With a pang of anguish, Hubertine took her again in her arms, clasped her tenderly, but convulsively, and looked at her earnestly, but without speaking. The pale moon had disappeared from sight behind the Cathedral, and the flying, misty clouds were now delicately coloured in the heavens by the approach of the dawn. They were both of them enveloped in this purity of the early morn, in the great fresh silence, which was alone disturbed by the little chirping of the just-awakening birds.
"But alas! my dear child, happiness is only found in obedience and in humility. For one little hour of passion, or of pride, we sometimes are obliged to suffer all our lives. If you wish to be contented on this earth, be submissive, be ready to renounce and give up everything."
But feeling that she was still rebellious under her embrace, that which she had never said to anyone, that which she still hesitated to speak of, almost involuntarily escaped from her lips:
"Listen to me once more, my dear child. You think that we are happy, do you not, your father and I. We should indeed be so had not our lives been embittered by a great vexation."
She lowered her voice still more, as she related with a trembling breath their history. The marriage without the consent of her mother, the death of their infant, and their vain desire to have another child,adidas shoes for girls, which was evidently the punishment of their fault. Still, they adored each other. They had lived by working, had wanted for nothing; but their regret for the child they had lost was so ever-present that they would have been wretchedly unhappy, would have quarrelled, and perhaps even have been separated, had it not been that her husband was so thoroughly good, while for herself she had always tried to be just and reasonable.
"Reflect, my daughter. Do not put any stumbling-block in your path which will make you suffer later on. Be humble, obey, check the impulse of your heart as much as possible."
Subdued at last, Angelique restrained her tears, but grew very pale as she listened, and interrupted her by saying:
"Mother, you pain me terribly,Moncler Outlet. I love him, and I am sure that he loves me."
Then she allowed her tears to flow. She was quite overcome by all she had listened to, softened, and with an expression in her eyes as if deeply wounded by the glimpse given her of the probable truth of the case. Yet she could suffer, and would willingly die, if need be, for her love.
Then Hubertine decided to continue.
"I do not wish to pain you too deeply at once, yet it is absolutely necessary that you should know the whole truth. Last evening, after you had gone upstairs, I had quite a talk with the Abbe Cornille,Website, and he explained to me why Monseigneur, after great hesitation, had at last decided to call his son to Beaumont. One of his greatest troubles was the impetuosity of the young man, the uncontrollable haste which he manifested to plunge into the excitement of life, without listening to the advice of his elders. After having with pain renounced all hope of making him a priest, his father found that he could not establish him in any occupation suitable to his rank and his fortune. He would never be anything but a headstrong fellow,north face outlet, restless, wandering, yielding to his artistic tastes when so inclined. He was alarmed at seeing in his son traits of character like those from which he himself had so cruelly suffered. At last, from fear that he might take some foolish step, and fall in love with someone beneath him in position, he wished to have him here, that he might be married at once."
Chapter 11 The Wisdom Of The Dead On the morrow Owen baptised the king
Chapter 11 The Wisdom Of The Dead
On the morrow Owen baptised the king, many of his councillors, andsome twenty others whom he considered fit to receive the rite. Also hedespatched his first convert John, with other messengers, on a threemonths' journey to the coast, giving them letters acquainting thebishop and others with his marvellous success, and praying thatmissionaries might be sent to assist him in his labours.
Now day by day the Church grew till it numbered hundreds of souls, andthousands more hovered on its threshold. From dawn to dark Owentoiled, preaching, exhorting, confessing, gathering in his harvest;and from dark to midnight he pored over his translation of theScriptures, teaching Nodwengo and a few others how to read and writethem. But although his efforts were crowned with so signal andextraordinary a triumph, he was well aware of the dangers thatthreatened the life of the infant Church. Many accepted it indeed, andstill more tolerated it; but there remained multitudes who regardedthe new religion with suspicion and veiled hatred. Nor was thisstrange, seeing that the hearts of men are not changed in an hour ortheir ancient customs easily overset.
On one point, indeed, Owen had to give way. The Amasuka were apolygamous people; all their law and traditions were interwoven withpolygamy, and to abolish that institution suddenly and with violencewould have brought their social fabric to the ground. Now, as he knewwell, the missionary Church declares in effect that no man can be botha Christian and a polygamist; therefore among the followers of thatcustom the missionary Church makes but little progress. Not withoutmany qualms and hesitations, Owen, having only the Scriptures toconsult, came to a compromise with his converts. If a man alreadymarried to more than one wife wished to become a Christian, hepermitted him to do so upon the condition that he took no more wives;while a man unmarried at the time of his conversion might take onewife only. This decree, liberal as it was, caused greatdissatisfaction among both men and women,cheap jeremy scott adidas wings. But it was as nothingcompared to the feeling that was evoked by Owen's preaching againstall war not undertaken in self-defence, and against the strict lawswhich he prevailed upon the king to pass, suppressing the practice ofwizardry, and declaring the chief or doctor who caused a man to be"smelt out" and killed upon charges of witchcraft to be guilty ofmurder.
At first whenever Owen went abroad he was surrounded by thousands ofpeople who followed him in the expectation that he would workmiracles,Moncler Sale, which, after his exploits with the lightning, they were wellpersuaded that he could do if he chose. But he worked no moremiracles; he only preached to them a doctrine adverse to their customsand foreign to their thoughts.
So it came about that in time, when the novelty was gone off and thestory of his victory over the Fire-god had grown stale, although thework of conversion went on steadily, many of the people grew weary ofthe white man and his doctrines,Jeremy Scott Adidas Wings. Soon this weariness found expressionin various ways, and in none more markedly than by the constantdesertions from the ranks of the king's regiments. At first, by Owen'sadvice, the king tolerated these desertions; but at length, havingobtained information that an entire regiment purposed absconding atdawn, he caused it to be surrounded and seized by night. Next morninghe addressed that regiment, saying:--"Soldiers,moncler winter outwear jackets, you think that because I have become a Christian and willnot permit unnecessary bloodshed, I am also become a fool. I willteach you otherwise. One man in every twenty of you shall be killed,and henceforth any soldier who attempts to desert will be killedalso!"The order was carried out, for Owen could not find a word to sayagainst it, with the result that desertions almost ceased, though notbefore the king had lost some eight or nine thousand of his bestsoldiers. Worst of all, these soldiers had gone to join Hafela in hismountain fastnesses; and the rumour grew that ere long they wouldappear again, to claim the crown for him or to take it by force ofarms.
On the morrow Owen baptised the king, many of his councillors, andsome twenty others whom he considered fit to receive the rite. Also hedespatched his first convert John, with other messengers, on a threemonths' journey to the coast, giving them letters acquainting thebishop and others with his marvellous success, and praying thatmissionaries might be sent to assist him in his labours.
Now day by day the Church grew till it numbered hundreds of souls, andthousands more hovered on its threshold. From dawn to dark Owentoiled, preaching, exhorting, confessing, gathering in his harvest;and from dark to midnight he pored over his translation of theScriptures, teaching Nodwengo and a few others how to read and writethem. But although his efforts were crowned with so signal andextraordinary a triumph, he was well aware of the dangers thatthreatened the life of the infant Church. Many accepted it indeed, andstill more tolerated it; but there remained multitudes who regardedthe new religion with suspicion and veiled hatred. Nor was thisstrange, seeing that the hearts of men are not changed in an hour ortheir ancient customs easily overset.
On one point, indeed, Owen had to give way. The Amasuka were apolygamous people; all their law and traditions were interwoven withpolygamy, and to abolish that institution suddenly and with violencewould have brought their social fabric to the ground. Now, as he knewwell, the missionary Church declares in effect that no man can be botha Christian and a polygamist; therefore among the followers of thatcustom the missionary Church makes but little progress. Not withoutmany qualms and hesitations, Owen, having only the Scriptures toconsult, came to a compromise with his converts. If a man alreadymarried to more than one wife wished to become a Christian, hepermitted him to do so upon the condition that he took no more wives;while a man unmarried at the time of his conversion might take onewife only. This decree, liberal as it was, caused greatdissatisfaction among both men and women,cheap jeremy scott adidas wings. But it was as nothingcompared to the feeling that was evoked by Owen's preaching againstall war not undertaken in self-defence, and against the strict lawswhich he prevailed upon the king to pass, suppressing the practice ofwizardry, and declaring the chief or doctor who caused a man to be"smelt out" and killed upon charges of witchcraft to be guilty ofmurder.
At first whenever Owen went abroad he was surrounded by thousands ofpeople who followed him in the expectation that he would workmiracles,Moncler Sale, which, after his exploits with the lightning, they were wellpersuaded that he could do if he chose. But he worked no moremiracles; he only preached to them a doctrine adverse to their customsand foreign to their thoughts.
So it came about that in time, when the novelty was gone off and thestory of his victory over the Fire-god had grown stale, although thework of conversion went on steadily, many of the people grew weary ofthe white man and his doctrines,Jeremy Scott Adidas Wings. Soon this weariness found expressionin various ways, and in none more markedly than by the constantdesertions from the ranks of the king's regiments. At first, by Owen'sadvice, the king tolerated these desertions; but at length, havingobtained information that an entire regiment purposed absconding atdawn, he caused it to be surrounded and seized by night. Next morninghe addressed that regiment, saying:--"Soldiers,moncler winter outwear jackets, you think that because I have become a Christian and willnot permit unnecessary bloodshed, I am also become a fool. I willteach you otherwise. One man in every twenty of you shall be killed,and henceforth any soldier who attempts to desert will be killedalso!"The order was carried out, for Owen could not find a word to sayagainst it, with the result that desertions almost ceased, though notbefore the king had lost some eight or nine thousand of his bestsoldiers. Worst of all, these soldiers had gone to join Hafela in hismountain fastnesses; and the rumour grew that ere long they wouldappear again, to claim the crown for him or to take it by force ofarms.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
” said the old man
“Wilky,” said the old man, “have you gone down to the baths here yet?”
“No, Dad, not yet.”
“Well, you know the Gloriana has one of the finest pools in New York. Eighty feet, blue tile. It’s a beauty.”
Wilhelm had seen it. On the way to the gin game you passed the stairway to the pool. He did not care for the odor of the wall-locked and chlorinated water.
“You ought to investigate the Russian and Turkisk baths, and the sunlamps and massage. I don’t hold with sunlamps. But the massage does a world of good,HOMEPAGE, and there’s nothing better than hydrotherapy when you come right down to it. Simple water has a calming effect and would do you more good than all the barbiturates and alcohol in the world.”
Wilhelm reflected that this advice was as far as his father’s help and sympathy would extend.
“I thought,” he said, “that the water cure was for lunatics,Moncler Jackets For Men.”
The doctor received this as one of his son’s jokes and said with a smile, “Well, it won’t turn a sane man into a lunatic. It does a great deal for me. I couldn’t live without my massages and steam.”
“You’re probably right. I ought to try it one of these days. Yesterday, late in the afternoon, my head was about to bust and I just had to have a little air, so I walked around the reservoir, and I sat down for a while in a playground. It rests me to watch the kids play potsy and skiprope.”
The doctor said with approval, “Well, now, that’s more like the idea.”
“It’s the end of the lilacs,” said Wilhelm. “When they burn it’s the beginning of the summer. At least, in the city. Around the time of year when the candy stores take down the windows and start to sell sodas on the sidewalk, But even though I was raised here,cheap jeremy scott adidas wings, Dad, I can't take city life any more, and I miss the country. There's too much push here for me. It works me up too much. I take things too hard. I wonder why you never retired to a quieter place.”
The doctor opened his small hand on the table in a gesture so old and so typical that Wilhelm felt it like an actual touch upon the foundations of his life. “I am a city boy myself, you must remember,” Dr. Adler explained. “But if you find the city so hard on you, you ought to get out.”
“I’ll do that,” said Wilhelm, “as soon as I can make the right connection. Meanwhile—”
His father interrupted. “Meanwhile I suggest you cut down on drugs.”
“You exaggerate that, Dad. I don’t really— I give myself a little boost against—” He almost pronounced the word “misery” but he kept his resolution not to complain.
The doctor, however, fell into the error of pushing his advice too hard. It was all he had to give his son and he gave it once more. “Water and exercise,” he said.
He wants a young, smart, successful son, thought Wilhelm, and he said, “Oh, Father, it's nice of you to give me this medical advice, but steam isn't going to cure what ails me.”
The doctor measurably drew back, warned by the sudden weak strain of Wilhelm’s voice and all that the droop of his face, the swell of his belly against the restraint of his belt intimated,cheap adidas shoes for sale.
“Some new business?” he asked unwillingly. Wilhelm made a great preliminary summary which involved the whole of his body. He drew and held a long breath, and his color changed and his eyes swam. “New?” he said.
“No, Dad, not yet.”
“Well, you know the Gloriana has one of the finest pools in New York. Eighty feet, blue tile. It’s a beauty.”
Wilhelm had seen it. On the way to the gin game you passed the stairway to the pool. He did not care for the odor of the wall-locked and chlorinated water.
“You ought to investigate the Russian and Turkisk baths, and the sunlamps and massage. I don’t hold with sunlamps. But the massage does a world of good,HOMEPAGE, and there’s nothing better than hydrotherapy when you come right down to it. Simple water has a calming effect and would do you more good than all the barbiturates and alcohol in the world.”
Wilhelm reflected that this advice was as far as his father’s help and sympathy would extend.
“I thought,” he said, “that the water cure was for lunatics,Moncler Jackets For Men.”
The doctor received this as one of his son’s jokes and said with a smile, “Well, it won’t turn a sane man into a lunatic. It does a great deal for me. I couldn’t live without my massages and steam.”
“You’re probably right. I ought to try it one of these days. Yesterday, late in the afternoon, my head was about to bust and I just had to have a little air, so I walked around the reservoir, and I sat down for a while in a playground. It rests me to watch the kids play potsy and skiprope.”
The doctor said with approval, “Well, now, that’s more like the idea.”
“It’s the end of the lilacs,” said Wilhelm. “When they burn it’s the beginning of the summer. At least, in the city. Around the time of year when the candy stores take down the windows and start to sell sodas on the sidewalk, But even though I was raised here,cheap jeremy scott adidas wings, Dad, I can't take city life any more, and I miss the country. There's too much push here for me. It works me up too much. I take things too hard. I wonder why you never retired to a quieter place.”
The doctor opened his small hand on the table in a gesture so old and so typical that Wilhelm felt it like an actual touch upon the foundations of his life. “I am a city boy myself, you must remember,” Dr. Adler explained. “But if you find the city so hard on you, you ought to get out.”
“I’ll do that,” said Wilhelm, “as soon as I can make the right connection. Meanwhile—”
His father interrupted. “Meanwhile I suggest you cut down on drugs.”
“You exaggerate that, Dad. I don’t really— I give myself a little boost against—” He almost pronounced the word “misery” but he kept his resolution not to complain.
The doctor, however, fell into the error of pushing his advice too hard. It was all he had to give his son and he gave it once more. “Water and exercise,” he said.
He wants a young, smart, successful son, thought Wilhelm, and he said, “Oh, Father, it's nice of you to give me this medical advice, but steam isn't going to cure what ails me.”
The doctor measurably drew back, warned by the sudden weak strain of Wilhelm’s voice and all that the droop of his face, the swell of his belly against the restraint of his belt intimated,cheap adidas shoes for sale.
“Some new business?” he asked unwillingly. Wilhelm made a great preliminary summary which involved the whole of his body. He drew and held a long breath, and his color changed and his eyes swam. “New?” he said.
Chapter 14 ALTHOUGH IT HAS BEEN CLEAR THAT AUGUSTUS'S POWERS were failing and that he had not many m
Chapter 14,cheap adidas shoes for sale
ALTHOUGH IT HAS BEEN CLEAR THAT AUGUSTUS'S POWERS were failing and that he had not many more years to live, Rome could not accustom itself to the idea of his death. It is not an idle comparison to say that the City felt much as a boy feels when he loses his father. Whether the father has been a brave man or a coward, just or unjust,Moncler Jackets For Men, generous or mean, signifies little: he has been that boy's father, and no uncle or elder brother can ever take his place. For Augustus's rule had been a very long one and a man had to be already past middle age to remember back behind it. It was therefore not altogether unnatural that the Senate met to deliberate whether the divine honours which had, even in his lifetime, been paid him by the provinces should now be voted him in the City itself.
Pollio's son. Callus-hated by Tiberius because he had married Vipsania (Tiberius's first wife, you will recall, whom he had been forced to divorce on Julia's account), and because he had never given a public denial of the rumour which made him the real father of Castor, and because he had a witty tongue-this Gallus was the only senator who had dared to question the propriety of the motion. He rose to ask what divine portent had occurred to suggest that Augustus would be welcomed in the Heavenly Mansions-merely at the recommendation of his mortal friends and admirers?
There followed an uncomfortable silence but at last Tiberius rose slowly and said: "One hundred days ago, it will be recalled, the pediment of my rather Augustus's statue was struck by lightning. The first letter of his name was blotted out, which left the words ESAR AUGUSTUS. What is the meaning of the letter C? It is the sign for one hundred. What does ESAR mean? I will tell you. It means God, in the Etruscan tongue. Clearly, in a hundred days from that lightning stroke Augustus is to become a God in Rome. What clearer portent than this can you require?" Though Tiberius took the sole credit for this interpretation it was I who had first given meaning to ESAR (the queer word had been much discussed), being the only person at Rome who was acquainted with the Etruscan language,Moncler Jackets For Women. I told my mother about it and she called me a fanciful fool,http://www.moncleroutletonlinestore.com/; but she must have been sufficiently impressed to repeat what I said to Tiberius; for I told nobody but her.
Gallus asked why Jove should give his message in Etruscan rather than in Greek or Latin? Could nobody swear to having observed any other more conclusive omen? It was all very well to decree new gods to ignorant Asiatic provincials, but the honourable House ought to pause before ordering educated citizens to worship one of their own number, however distinguished. It is possible that Gallus would have succeeded in blocking the decree by this appeal to Roman pride and sanity had it not been for a man called Atticus, a senior magistrate. He solemnly rose to say that when Augustus's corpse had been burned on Mars Field he had seen a cloud descending from heaven and the dead man's spirit then ascending on it, precisely in the way in which tradition relates that the spirits of Romulus and Hercules ascended. He would swear by all the Gods that he was testifying the truth.
ALTHOUGH IT HAS BEEN CLEAR THAT AUGUSTUS'S POWERS were failing and that he had not many more years to live, Rome could not accustom itself to the idea of his death. It is not an idle comparison to say that the City felt much as a boy feels when he loses his father. Whether the father has been a brave man or a coward, just or unjust,Moncler Jackets For Men, generous or mean, signifies little: he has been that boy's father, and no uncle or elder brother can ever take his place. For Augustus's rule had been a very long one and a man had to be already past middle age to remember back behind it. It was therefore not altogether unnatural that the Senate met to deliberate whether the divine honours which had, even in his lifetime, been paid him by the provinces should now be voted him in the City itself.
Pollio's son. Callus-hated by Tiberius because he had married Vipsania (Tiberius's first wife, you will recall, whom he had been forced to divorce on Julia's account), and because he had never given a public denial of the rumour which made him the real father of Castor, and because he had a witty tongue-this Gallus was the only senator who had dared to question the propriety of the motion. He rose to ask what divine portent had occurred to suggest that Augustus would be welcomed in the Heavenly Mansions-merely at the recommendation of his mortal friends and admirers?
There followed an uncomfortable silence but at last Tiberius rose slowly and said: "One hundred days ago, it will be recalled, the pediment of my rather Augustus's statue was struck by lightning. The first letter of his name was blotted out, which left the words ESAR AUGUSTUS. What is the meaning of the letter C? It is the sign for one hundred. What does ESAR mean? I will tell you. It means God, in the Etruscan tongue. Clearly, in a hundred days from that lightning stroke Augustus is to become a God in Rome. What clearer portent than this can you require?" Though Tiberius took the sole credit for this interpretation it was I who had first given meaning to ESAR (the queer word had been much discussed), being the only person at Rome who was acquainted with the Etruscan language,Moncler Jackets For Women. I told my mother about it and she called me a fanciful fool,http://www.moncleroutletonlinestore.com/; but she must have been sufficiently impressed to repeat what I said to Tiberius; for I told nobody but her.
Gallus asked why Jove should give his message in Etruscan rather than in Greek or Latin? Could nobody swear to having observed any other more conclusive omen? It was all very well to decree new gods to ignorant Asiatic provincials, but the honourable House ought to pause before ordering educated citizens to worship one of their own number, however distinguished. It is possible that Gallus would have succeeded in blocking the decree by this appeal to Roman pride and sanity had it not been for a man called Atticus, a senior magistrate. He solemnly rose to say that when Augustus's corpse had been burned on Mars Field he had seen a cloud descending from heaven and the dead man's spirit then ascending on it, precisely in the way in which tradition relates that the spirits of Romulus and Hercules ascended. He would swear by all the Gods that he was testifying the truth.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
I first saw Mr
I first saw Mr. Polk coming down the steps of the hotel at which sojourned His Highness the Gaekwar of Baroda, most enlightened of the Mahratta princes, who, of late, ate bread and salt in our Metropolis of the Occident.
Lucullus moved rapidly, as though propelled by some potent moral force that imminently threatened to become physical. Behind him closely followed the impetus--a hotel detective, if ever white Alpine hat, hawk's nose, implacable watch chain, and loud refinement of manner spoke the truth. A brace of uniformed porters at his heels preserved the smooth decorum of the hotel, repudiating by their air of disengagement any suspicion that they formed a reserve squad of ejectment.
Safe on the sidewalk, Lucullus Polk turned and shook a freckled fist at the caravansary. And,moncler jackets women, to my joy, he began to breathe deep invective in strange words:
"Rides in howdays, does he?" he cried loudly and sneeringly. "Rides on elephants in howdahs and calls himself a prince! Kings--yah! Comes over here and talks horse till you would think he was a president; and then goes home and rides in a private dining-room strapped onto an elephant. Well, well, well!"
The ejecting committee quietly retired. The scorner of princes turned to me and snapped his fingers.
"What do you think of that?" he shouted derisively. "The Gaekwar of Baroda rides in an elephant in a howdah! And there's old Bikram Shamsher Jang scorching up and down the pig-paths of Khatmandu on a motor-cycle. Wouldn't that maharajah you? And the Shah of Persia, that ought to have been Muley-on-the-spot for at least three, he's got the palanquin habit. And that funny-hat prince from Korea--wouldn't you think he could afford to amble around on a milk-white palfrey once in a dynasty or two? Nothing doing! His idea of a Balaklava charge is to tuck his skirts under him and do his mile in six days over the hog- wallows of Seoul in a bull-cart. That's the kind of visiting potentates that come to this country now. It's a hard deal, friend."
I murmured a few words of sympathy. But it was uncomprehending, for I did not know his grievance against the rulers who flash, meteor-like, now and then upon our shores.
"The last one I sold," continued the displeased one, "was to that three-horse-tailed Turkish pasha that came over a year ago,replica montblanc pens. Five hundred dollars he paid for it, easy. I says to his executioner or secretary--he was a kind of a Jew or a Chinaman--'His Turkey Gibbets is fond of horses, then?'
"'Him?' says the secretary. 'Well, no. He's got a big, fat wife in the harem named Bad Dora that he don't like,Fake Designer Handbags. I believe he intends to saddle her up and ride her up and down the board-walk in the Bulbul Gardens a few times every day. You haven't got a pair of extra-long spurs you could throw in on the deal, have you?' Yes, sir; there's mighty few real rough-riders among the royal sports these days."
As soon as Lucullus Polk got cool enough I picked him up,moncler jackets men, and with no greater effort than you would employ in persuading a drowning man to clutch a straw, I inveigled him into accompanying me to a cool corner in a dim cafe.
Lucullus moved rapidly, as though propelled by some potent moral force that imminently threatened to become physical. Behind him closely followed the impetus--a hotel detective, if ever white Alpine hat, hawk's nose, implacable watch chain, and loud refinement of manner spoke the truth. A brace of uniformed porters at his heels preserved the smooth decorum of the hotel, repudiating by their air of disengagement any suspicion that they formed a reserve squad of ejectment.
Safe on the sidewalk, Lucullus Polk turned and shook a freckled fist at the caravansary. And,moncler jackets women, to my joy, he began to breathe deep invective in strange words:
"Rides in howdays, does he?" he cried loudly and sneeringly. "Rides on elephants in howdahs and calls himself a prince! Kings--yah! Comes over here and talks horse till you would think he was a president; and then goes home and rides in a private dining-room strapped onto an elephant. Well, well, well!"
The ejecting committee quietly retired. The scorner of princes turned to me and snapped his fingers.
"What do you think of that?" he shouted derisively. "The Gaekwar of Baroda rides in an elephant in a howdah! And there's old Bikram Shamsher Jang scorching up and down the pig-paths of Khatmandu on a motor-cycle. Wouldn't that maharajah you? And the Shah of Persia, that ought to have been Muley-on-the-spot for at least three, he's got the palanquin habit. And that funny-hat prince from Korea--wouldn't you think he could afford to amble around on a milk-white palfrey once in a dynasty or two? Nothing doing! His idea of a Balaklava charge is to tuck his skirts under him and do his mile in six days over the hog- wallows of Seoul in a bull-cart. That's the kind of visiting potentates that come to this country now. It's a hard deal, friend."
I murmured a few words of sympathy. But it was uncomprehending, for I did not know his grievance against the rulers who flash, meteor-like, now and then upon our shores.
"The last one I sold," continued the displeased one, "was to that three-horse-tailed Turkish pasha that came over a year ago,replica montblanc pens. Five hundred dollars he paid for it, easy. I says to his executioner or secretary--he was a kind of a Jew or a Chinaman--'His Turkey Gibbets is fond of horses, then?'
"'Him?' says the secretary. 'Well, no. He's got a big, fat wife in the harem named Bad Dora that he don't like,Fake Designer Handbags. I believe he intends to saddle her up and ride her up and down the board-walk in the Bulbul Gardens a few times every day. You haven't got a pair of extra-long spurs you could throw in on the deal, have you?' Yes, sir; there's mighty few real rough-riders among the royal sports these days."
As soon as Lucullus Polk got cool enough I picked him up,moncler jackets men, and with no greater effort than you would employ in persuading a drowning man to clutch a straw, I inveigled him into accompanying me to a cool corner in a dim cafe.
玛丽一副心烦意乱的样子
玛丽一副心烦意乱的样子，一声不吭。过了一会儿，她吞吞吐吐地说：
“我——我想你就是——就是—— 也没有什么用处。人可不能——呃——大家伙的看法——不能不那么小心——那么——”这条路不大好走，她绕不出来了；可是，稍停一会儿，她又开了腔。“要说这件事是不大合适，可是——嗨，咱们顶不住呀，爱德华——真是顶不住啊。哎，无论如何，我也不愿让你说出来！”
“玛丽，假如说出来,LINK，不知会有多少人不拿正眼看咱们；那样一来——那样一来——”
“现在我担心的是他怎么看咱们，爱德华。”
“他？他可没想过我当初能够救他。”
“啊，”妻子松了一口气，嚷嚷着，“这样我就高兴了。只要他当初不知道你能够救他，他——他——呃，这件事就好办多了。唉，我原本就该想到他不知道，虽然咱们不大搭理他，可他老是想跟咱们套近乎。别人拿这件事挖苦我可不止一次了。像威尔逊两口子，威尔科克斯两口子，还有哈克内斯两口子，他们都话里有话地寻开心，明知道我面子上过不去，非要说‘你们的朋友伯杰斯’如何如何。我可不想让他一个劲儿缠着咱们；我不明白他为什么不撒手呢。”
“他为什么这样做我明白。这可又是不打自招了。那件事刚闹出来，正在沸沸扬扬的时候，镇上打算让他‘爬竿’。我被良心折磨得简直受不了，偷偷去给他通风报信，他就离开镇子，到外地避风去了，直躲到没事儿了才回来。”
“爱德华！当时镇上要是查出来——”
“别说了！直到现在我一想起来还害怕呢。那件事刚做完我就后悔了；所以我都没敢跟你说，就怕你脸上挂不住，被别人看出来。那天晚上，我心里嘀咕，一夜都没有合眼。可是过了几天，一看谁也没有怀疑，从那以后我又觉得干了那么一件事挺高兴。到现在我还高兴呢，玛丽——别提有多高兴了。”
“现在我也高兴啊，那样对待他也太可怕了。是呀，我挺高兴；你知道，你这样做才算对得起他。可是，爱德华，万一这件事哪天露了馅呢？”
“不会。”
“为什么？”
“因为谁都会以为那是古德森干的。”
“他们一定是这么想的！”
“就是。当然啦，他也不在乎大家这么想。大家撺掇那个可怜的索斯伯里老汉找他算账，老汉就照他们说的风风火火跑了去。古德森把老汉上上下下打量了一遍，好像要在索斯伯里身上找出一块自己特别瞧不起的地方，然后说：‘这么说，你是调查组的，是吗？’索斯伯里说：差不离吧。‘哦。依你说，他们是想仔仔细细地问呢，还是听点儿简单的就行了呢？’‘古德森先生，要是他们想仔仔细细地问，我就再来一趟；我先听简单的吧。’‘那太好了，你就让他们全都见他妈的鬼去——我觉得这够简单的了。索斯伯里，我再劝你几句；你再来仔仔细细打听的时候，带个篮子来，把你那几根老骨头提回家去。’”
“古德森就是这样；一点都没走样。他老是觉得他的主意比谁都强：他就这点虚荣心。”
“玛丽，这一来就万事大吉，把咱们给救了。那件事再也不会有人提了。”
“老天有眼，我想也不会有人提了。”
他们又兴致勃勃地把话头引回那袋神秘的金子上来。过了一会儿，他们的谈话开始有了停顿——因为沉思而停顿。停顿的次数越来越多。最后理查兹竟然想呆了。他坐了半天，神情茫然地盯着地板，慢慢地，他的两只手开始做一些神经质的小动作，圈点着心里的念头，好像是有点儿着急。这时候，他妻子也犯了老毛病，一声不吭地想心事，从神态看得出她心乱如麻，不大自在。最后，理查兹站了起来，漫无目标地在房间里溜达，十个手指头在头发里蓖过来，蓖过去，就像一个梦游的人正做一个噩梦。后来，他好像是拿定了主意；一声不响地戴上帽子，大步流星地出门去了。他妻子还在皱着眉头想心事，好像没有发觉屋里只剩下她一个人了。她不时喃喃自语：可别把我们引到……可是——可是——我们真是太穷了，太穷了！……，可别把我们引到……啊，这碍别人的事吗？——再说谁也不会知道……可别把我们……”她的声音越来越小，后来只剩下嘴唇动弹。稍停，她抬头扫了一眼，半惊半喜地说——
“他去了！可是，天哪,moncler jackets men，也许太晚了——来不及了……也许还不晚——也许还来得及。”她起身站着想，神经质地一会儿把两手绞在一起，一会儿又松开。一阵轻微的颤栗掠过全身，她从干哑的嗓子挤出了声音：“上帝饶恕我吧——这念头真可怕呀——可是……上帝呀，看我们成什么样子啦——我们都变成怪物了！”
她把灯光拧小一点，蹑手蹑脚地溜到那只口袋旁跪下，用手触摸着鼓鼓囊囊的边边角角，爱不释手；年迈昏花的老眼中闪出一丝贪婪的光。她有时像灵魂出窍；有时又有一半清醒，嘟嘟囔囔地说：“我们要是能等一等就好了！——啊，只要等那么一小会儿，别那么着急就好了！”
这时候，考克斯也从办公室回到家里，把这件蹊跷事原原本本地告诉了自己的妻子，迫不及待地议论了一番之后，他们猜到了已故的古德森，认为全镇子的男人里头只有他才会慷慨解囊拿出二十块钱来，用这笔不小的数目去接济一个落难的外乡人。后来，他们的谈话停了下来，俩人默默无言地想起了心事。他们的神经越来越紧张，烦躁不安。最后妻子开口了，好像是自言自语：
“除了理查兹两口子……还有咱们，谁也不知道这个秘密……没有别人了。”
丈夫微微受到触动，从冥思苦想中解脱出来；他眼巴巴地瞪着脸色刷白的妻子；后来。他迟迟疑疑地站起身。偷偷地膜了一眼帽子，又瞟了一眼自己的妻子——这是无声的请示。考克斯太太三番两次欲言又止，后来她以手封喉，点头示意。很快，家里只剩下她一个人在那里自言自语了。
这时，理查兹和考克斯脚步匆匆，穿过阒无人迹的街道，迎头走来。两人气喘吁吁地在印刷厂的楼梯口碰了面；夜色中，他们相互打量着对方的脸色。考克斯悄悄地问：
“除了咱们，没人知道这件事吧？”
悄悄地回答：
“鬼都不知道——我担保，鬼都不知道！”
“要是还来得及——”
两个人上了楼梯；就在这时候，一个小伙子赶了上来，考克斯问道：
“是你吗，约翰尼？”
“是，先生。”
“你先不用发早班邮件——什么邮件都别发；等着，到时候我告诉你。”
“已经发走了，先生。”
“发走了？”话音里包含着难以言传的失望。
“是，先生。从今天起到布里克斯顿以远所有城镇的火车都改点了，先生——报纸要比往常早发二十分钟。我只好紧赶慢赶；要是再晚两分钟就——”
俩人没听他说完，就掉过头去慢慢走开了。大约有十分钟，两个人都没有出声；后来考克斯气哼哼地说：
“你究竟赶个什么劲呀，我真不明白。”
毕恭毕敬地回答：
“我现在明白了，你看，也不知道是怎么搞的，我老是不动脑子，想吃后悔药也来不及。不过下一次——”
“下一次个屁！一千年也不会有下一次了。”
这对朋友没道晚安就各奔东西；各自拖着两条腿走回家去，就像霜打了一样。回到家，他们的妻子都一跃而起，迫不及待地问“怎么样？”——她们用眼睛就得出了答案，不等听一字半句，自己先垂头丧气一屁股坐了下去。两家都发生了激烈的争论——这可是新鲜事；从前两口子也拌嘴，可是都不激烈，也没有撕破过脸面。今天夜里两家的口角就好像是一个师傅教出来的,Fake Designer Handbags。理查兹太太说：
“爱德华，要是你等一等——要是你停下来琢磨琢磨呢；可是你不，你非要直奔报馆的印刷厂，把这件事嚷嚷出去，让天下的人都知道。”
“那上面是说了要发表呀。”
“说了又怎么样；那上面还说可以私访呢，只要你愿意才算数。现在可好——我没说错吧？”
“嗨，没错——没错，真是那么说的；不过，我一想这件事会闹得沸沸扬扬，一想到一个外乡人这么信得过哈德莱堡,moncler jackets women，这是多大的脸面——”
“啊，当然啦，这些我都明白；可是只要你等一等，仔细想想，不就能想起来已经找不到应该得这笔钱的人了吗。他已经进了棺材，也没有留下一男半女，连亲戚也没有；这么一来，这笔钱要是归了哪个急等用钱的人，对谁都没有妨碍呀，再说——再说——”
“我——我想你就是——就是—— 也没有什么用处。人可不能——呃——大家伙的看法——不能不那么小心——那么——”这条路不大好走，她绕不出来了；可是，稍停一会儿，她又开了腔。“要说这件事是不大合适，可是——嗨，咱们顶不住呀，爱德华——真是顶不住啊。哎，无论如何，我也不愿让你说出来！”
“玛丽，假如说出来,LINK，不知会有多少人不拿正眼看咱们；那样一来——那样一来——”
“现在我担心的是他怎么看咱们，爱德华。”
“他？他可没想过我当初能够救他。”
“啊，”妻子松了一口气，嚷嚷着，“这样我就高兴了。只要他当初不知道你能够救他，他——他——呃，这件事就好办多了。唉，我原本就该想到他不知道，虽然咱们不大搭理他，可他老是想跟咱们套近乎。别人拿这件事挖苦我可不止一次了。像威尔逊两口子，威尔科克斯两口子，还有哈克内斯两口子，他们都话里有话地寻开心，明知道我面子上过不去，非要说‘你们的朋友伯杰斯’如何如何。我可不想让他一个劲儿缠着咱们；我不明白他为什么不撒手呢。”
“他为什么这样做我明白。这可又是不打自招了。那件事刚闹出来，正在沸沸扬扬的时候，镇上打算让他‘爬竿’。我被良心折磨得简直受不了，偷偷去给他通风报信，他就离开镇子，到外地避风去了，直躲到没事儿了才回来。”
“爱德华！当时镇上要是查出来——”
“别说了！直到现在我一想起来还害怕呢。那件事刚做完我就后悔了；所以我都没敢跟你说，就怕你脸上挂不住，被别人看出来。那天晚上，我心里嘀咕，一夜都没有合眼。可是过了几天，一看谁也没有怀疑，从那以后我又觉得干了那么一件事挺高兴。到现在我还高兴呢，玛丽——别提有多高兴了。”
“现在我也高兴啊，那样对待他也太可怕了。是呀，我挺高兴；你知道，你这样做才算对得起他。可是，爱德华，万一这件事哪天露了馅呢？”
“不会。”
“为什么？”
“因为谁都会以为那是古德森干的。”
“他们一定是这么想的！”
“就是。当然啦，他也不在乎大家这么想。大家撺掇那个可怜的索斯伯里老汉找他算账，老汉就照他们说的风风火火跑了去。古德森把老汉上上下下打量了一遍，好像要在索斯伯里身上找出一块自己特别瞧不起的地方，然后说：‘这么说，你是调查组的，是吗？’索斯伯里说：差不离吧。‘哦。依你说，他们是想仔仔细细地问呢，还是听点儿简单的就行了呢？’‘古德森先生，要是他们想仔仔细细地问，我就再来一趟；我先听简单的吧。’‘那太好了，你就让他们全都见他妈的鬼去——我觉得这够简单的了。索斯伯里，我再劝你几句；你再来仔仔细细打听的时候，带个篮子来，把你那几根老骨头提回家去。’”
“古德森就是这样；一点都没走样。他老是觉得他的主意比谁都强：他就这点虚荣心。”
“玛丽，这一来就万事大吉，把咱们给救了。那件事再也不会有人提了。”
“老天有眼，我想也不会有人提了。”
他们又兴致勃勃地把话头引回那袋神秘的金子上来。过了一会儿，他们的谈话开始有了停顿——因为沉思而停顿。停顿的次数越来越多。最后理查兹竟然想呆了。他坐了半天，神情茫然地盯着地板，慢慢地，他的两只手开始做一些神经质的小动作，圈点着心里的念头，好像是有点儿着急。这时候，他妻子也犯了老毛病，一声不吭地想心事，从神态看得出她心乱如麻，不大自在。最后，理查兹站了起来，漫无目标地在房间里溜达，十个手指头在头发里蓖过来，蓖过去，就像一个梦游的人正做一个噩梦。后来，他好像是拿定了主意；一声不响地戴上帽子，大步流星地出门去了。他妻子还在皱着眉头想心事，好像没有发觉屋里只剩下她一个人了。她不时喃喃自语：可别把我们引到……可是——可是——我们真是太穷了，太穷了！……，可别把我们引到……啊，这碍别人的事吗？——再说谁也不会知道……可别把我们……”她的声音越来越小，后来只剩下嘴唇动弹。稍停，她抬头扫了一眼，半惊半喜地说——
“他去了！可是，天哪,moncler jackets men，也许太晚了——来不及了……也许还不晚——也许还来得及。”她起身站着想，神经质地一会儿把两手绞在一起，一会儿又松开。一阵轻微的颤栗掠过全身，她从干哑的嗓子挤出了声音：“上帝饶恕我吧——这念头真可怕呀——可是……上帝呀，看我们成什么样子啦——我们都变成怪物了！”
她把灯光拧小一点，蹑手蹑脚地溜到那只口袋旁跪下，用手触摸着鼓鼓囊囊的边边角角，爱不释手；年迈昏花的老眼中闪出一丝贪婪的光。她有时像灵魂出窍；有时又有一半清醒，嘟嘟囔囔地说：“我们要是能等一等就好了！——啊，只要等那么一小会儿，别那么着急就好了！”
这时候，考克斯也从办公室回到家里，把这件蹊跷事原原本本地告诉了自己的妻子，迫不及待地议论了一番之后，他们猜到了已故的古德森，认为全镇子的男人里头只有他才会慷慨解囊拿出二十块钱来，用这笔不小的数目去接济一个落难的外乡人。后来，他们的谈话停了下来，俩人默默无言地想起了心事。他们的神经越来越紧张，烦躁不安。最后妻子开口了，好像是自言自语：
“除了理查兹两口子……还有咱们，谁也不知道这个秘密……没有别人了。”
丈夫微微受到触动，从冥思苦想中解脱出来；他眼巴巴地瞪着脸色刷白的妻子；后来。他迟迟疑疑地站起身。偷偷地膜了一眼帽子，又瞟了一眼自己的妻子——这是无声的请示。考克斯太太三番两次欲言又止，后来她以手封喉，点头示意。很快，家里只剩下她一个人在那里自言自语了。
这时，理查兹和考克斯脚步匆匆，穿过阒无人迹的街道，迎头走来。两人气喘吁吁地在印刷厂的楼梯口碰了面；夜色中，他们相互打量着对方的脸色。考克斯悄悄地问：
“除了咱们，没人知道这件事吧？”
悄悄地回答：
“鬼都不知道——我担保，鬼都不知道！”
“要是还来得及——”
两个人上了楼梯；就在这时候，一个小伙子赶了上来，考克斯问道：
“是你吗，约翰尼？”
“是，先生。”
“你先不用发早班邮件——什么邮件都别发；等着，到时候我告诉你。”
“已经发走了，先生。”
“发走了？”话音里包含着难以言传的失望。
“是，先生。从今天起到布里克斯顿以远所有城镇的火车都改点了，先生——报纸要比往常早发二十分钟。我只好紧赶慢赶；要是再晚两分钟就——”
俩人没听他说完，就掉过头去慢慢走开了。大约有十分钟，两个人都没有出声；后来考克斯气哼哼地说：
“你究竟赶个什么劲呀，我真不明白。”
毕恭毕敬地回答：
“我现在明白了，你看，也不知道是怎么搞的，我老是不动脑子，想吃后悔药也来不及。不过下一次——”
“下一次个屁！一千年也不会有下一次了。”
这对朋友没道晚安就各奔东西；各自拖着两条腿走回家去，就像霜打了一样。回到家，他们的妻子都一跃而起，迫不及待地问“怎么样？”——她们用眼睛就得出了答案，不等听一字半句，自己先垂头丧气一屁股坐了下去。两家都发生了激烈的争论——这可是新鲜事；从前两口子也拌嘴，可是都不激烈，也没有撕破过脸面。今天夜里两家的口角就好像是一个师傅教出来的,Fake Designer Handbags。理查兹太太说：
“爱德华，要是你等一等——要是你停下来琢磨琢磨呢；可是你不，你非要直奔报馆的印刷厂，把这件事嚷嚷出去，让天下的人都知道。”
“那上面是说了要发表呀。”
“说了又怎么样；那上面还说可以私访呢，只要你愿意才算数。现在可好——我没说错吧？”
“嗨，没错——没错，真是那么说的；不过，我一想这件事会闹得沸沸扬扬，一想到一个外乡人这么信得过哈德莱堡,moncler jackets women，这是多大的脸面——”
“啊，当然啦，这些我都明白；可是只要你等一等，仔细想想，不就能想起来已经找不到应该得这笔钱的人了吗。他已经进了棺材，也没有留下一男半女，连亲戚也没有；这么一来，这笔钱要是归了哪个急等用钱的人，对谁都没有妨碍呀，再说——再说——”
Monday, November 26, 2012
Wilhelm's father
Wilhelm's father, old Dr. Adler, lived in an entirely different world from his son, but he had warned him once against Dr. Tamkin. Rather casually—he was a very bland old man—he said, “Wilky, perhaps you listen too much to this Tamkin. He’s interesting to talk to. I don’t doubt it. I think he’s pretty common but he’s a persuasive man. However, I don’t know how reliable he may be.”
It made Wilhelm profoundly bitter that his father should speak to him with such detachment about his welfare. Dr. Adler liked to appear affable. Affable! His own son, his one and only son, could not speak his mind or ease his heart to him. I wouldn’t turn to Tamkin, he thought, if I could turn to him. At least Tamkin sympathizes with me and tries to give me a hand, whereas Dad doesn’t want to be disturbed.
Old Dr. Adler had retired from practice; he had a considerable fortune and could easily have helped his son. Recently Wilhelm had told him, “Father—it so happens that I’m in a bad way now. I hate to have to say it. You realize that I’d rather have good news to bring to you. But it’s true. And since it’s true, Dad—What else and I supposed to say? It’s true.”
Another father might have appreciated how difficult this confession was—so much bad luck, weariness, weakness, and failure. Wilhelm had tried to copy the old man’s tone and made himself sound gentlemanly, low-voiced, tasteful. He didn’t allow his voice to tremble; he made no stupid gesture. But the doctor had no answer. He only nodded. You might have told him that Seattle was near Puget Sound, or that the Giants and Dodgers were playing a night game, so little was he moved from his expression of healthy, handsome, good-humored old age. He behaved toward his son as he had formerly done toward his patients, and it was a great grief to Wilhelm; it was almost too much to bear. Couldn’t he see—couldn’t he feel? Had he lost his family sense?
Greatly hurt, Wilhelm struggled however to be fair. Old people are bound to change, he said. They have hard things to think about. They must prepare for where they are going. They can’t live by the old schedule any longer and all their perspectives chage, and other people become alike, kin and acquaintances. Dad is no longer the same person, Wilhelm reflected. He was thirty-two when I was born, and now he’s going on eighty. Furthermore, it’s time I stopped feeling like a kid toward him, a small son.
The handsome old doctor stood well above the other old people in the hotel. He was idolized by everyone. This was what people said: “That’s old Professor Adler, who used to teach internal medicine. He was a diagnostician, one of the best in New York, and had a tremendous practice. Isn't he a wonderful-looking old guy? It's a pleasure to see such a fine old scientist, clean and immaculate. He stands straight and understands every single thing you say. He still has all his buttons. You can discuss any subject with him.” The clerks, the elevator operators, the telephone girls and waitresses and chambermaids, the management flattered and pampered him. That was what he wanted. He had always been a vain man. To see how his father loved himself sometimes made Wilhelm madly indignant.
It made Wilhelm profoundly bitter that his father should speak to him with such detachment about his welfare. Dr. Adler liked to appear affable. Affable! His own son, his one and only son, could not speak his mind or ease his heart to him. I wouldn’t turn to Tamkin, he thought, if I could turn to him. At least Tamkin sympathizes with me and tries to give me a hand, whereas Dad doesn’t want to be disturbed.
Old Dr. Adler had retired from practice; he had a considerable fortune and could easily have helped his son. Recently Wilhelm had told him, “Father—it so happens that I’m in a bad way now. I hate to have to say it. You realize that I’d rather have good news to bring to you. But it’s true. And since it’s true, Dad—What else and I supposed to say? It’s true.”
Another father might have appreciated how difficult this confession was—so much bad luck, weariness, weakness, and failure. Wilhelm had tried to copy the old man’s tone and made himself sound gentlemanly, low-voiced, tasteful. He didn’t allow his voice to tremble; he made no stupid gesture. But the doctor had no answer. He only nodded. You might have told him that Seattle was near Puget Sound, or that the Giants and Dodgers were playing a night game, so little was he moved from his expression of healthy, handsome, good-humored old age. He behaved toward his son as he had formerly done toward his patients, and it was a great grief to Wilhelm; it was almost too much to bear. Couldn’t he see—couldn’t he feel? Had he lost his family sense?
Greatly hurt, Wilhelm struggled however to be fair. Old people are bound to change, he said. They have hard things to think about. They must prepare for where they are going. They can’t live by the old schedule any longer and all their perspectives chage, and other people become alike, kin and acquaintances. Dad is no longer the same person, Wilhelm reflected. He was thirty-two when I was born, and now he’s going on eighty. Furthermore, it’s time I stopped feeling like a kid toward him, a small son.
The handsome old doctor stood well above the other old people in the hotel. He was idolized by everyone. This was what people said: “That’s old Professor Adler, who used to teach internal medicine. He was a diagnostician, one of the best in New York, and had a tremendous practice. Isn't he a wonderful-looking old guy? It's a pleasure to see such a fine old scientist, clean and immaculate. He stands straight and understands every single thing you say. He still has all his buttons. You can discuss any subject with him.” The clerks, the elevator operators, the telephone girls and waitresses and chambermaids, the management flattered and pampered him. That was what he wanted. He had always been a vain man. To see how his father loved himself sometimes made Wilhelm madly indignant.
The next day when Gervaise went to make inquiries she found the bed empty
The next day when Gervaise went to make inquiries she found the bed empty. A sister explained that her husband had been taken to the asylum of Sainte-Anne, because the night before he had suddenly become unmanageable from delirium and had uttered such terrible howls that it disturbed the inmates of all the beds in that ward. It was the alcohol in his system, she said, which attacked his nerves now, when he was so reduced by the inflammation on his lungs that he could not resist it.
The clearstarcher went home, but how or by what route she never knew. Her husband was mad--she heard these words reverberating through her brain. Life was growing very strange. Nana simply said that he must, of course, be left at the asylum, for he might murder them both.
On Sunday only could Gervaise go to Sainte-Anne. It was a long distance off. Fortunately there was an omnibus which went very near. She got out at La Rue Sante and bought two oranges that she might not go quite empty-handed.
But when she went in, to her astonishment she found Coupeau sitting up. He welcomed her gaily.
"You are better!" she exclaimed.
"Yes, nearly well," he replied, and they talked together awhile, and she gave him the oranges, which pleased and touched him, for he was a different man now that he drank tisane instead of liquor. She did not dare allude to his delirium, but he spoke of it himself.
"Yes," he said, "I was in a pretty state! I saw rats running all over the floor and the walls, and you were calling me, and I saw all sorts of horrible things! But I am all right now. Once in a while I have a bad dream, but everybody does, I suppose."
Gervaise remained with him until night. When the house surgeon made his rounds at six o'clock he told him to hold out his hands. They scarcely trembled--an almost imperceptible motion of the tips of his fingers was all. But as the room grew darker Coupeau became restless. Two or three times he sat up and peered into the remote corners.
Suddenly he stretched out his arms and seemed to crush some creature on the wall.
"What is it?" asked Gervaise, terribly frightened.
"Rats!" he said quietly. "Only rats!"
After a long silence he seemed to be dropping off to sleep, with disconnected sentences falling from his lips.
"Dirty beasts! Look out, one is under your skirts!" He pulled the covering hastily over his head, as if to protect himself against the creature he saw.
Then starting up in mad terror, he screamed aloud. A nurse ran to the bed, and Gervaise was sent away, mute with horror at this scene.
But when on the following Sunday she went again to the hospital, Coupeau was really well. All his dreams had vanished. He slept like a child, ten hours without lifting a finger. His wife, therefore, was allowed to take him away. The house surgeon gave him a few words of advice before he left, assuring him if he continued to drink he would be a dead man in three months. All depended on himself. He could live at home just as he had lived at Sainte-Anne's and must forget that such things as wine and brandy existed.
Have you
‘No. Have you?’
‘You know I haven’t. Have you?’
‘No. I’m not in love.’
My wife seemed content with this answer. She had married me six years ago at the time of my first exhibition, and had done much since then to push our interests. People said she had ‘made’ me, but she herself took credit only for supplying me with a congenial background; she had firm faith in my genius and in the ‘artistic temperament’, and in the principle that things done on the sly are not really done at all. Presently she said: ‘Looking forward to getting home?’ (My father gave me as a wedding present the price of a house, and I bought an. old rectory in my wife’s part of the country.) ‘I’ve got a surprise for you.’
‘Yes?’
‘I’ve turned the old barn into a studio for you, so that you needn’t be disturbed by the children or when we have people to stay. I got Emden to do it. Everyone thinks it a great success.
There was an article on it in Country Life; I bought it for you to see.’
She showed me the article: ‘...happy example of architectural good manners...Sir Joseph Emden’s tactful adaptation of traditional material to modern needs...’; there were some photographs; wide oak boards now covered the earthen floor; a high, stone-mullioned bay-window had been built in the north wall, and the great timbered roof, which before had been lost in shadow, now stood out stark, well lit, with clean white plaster between the beams; it looked like a village hall. I remembered the smell of the place, which would now be lost.
‘I rather liked that barn.’ I said.
‘But you’ll be able to work there, won’t you?’
‘After squatting in a cloud of sting-fly,’ I said, ‘under a sun which scorched the paper off the block as I drew, I could work on the top of an omnibus. I expect the vicar would like to borrow the place for whist drives.’
‘There’s a lot of work waiting for you. I promised Lady Anchorage you would do Anchorage House as soon as you got back. That’s coming down, too, you know - shops underneath and two-roomed flats above. You don’t think, do you, Charles, that all this exotic work you’ve been doing, is going to spoil you for that sort of thing?’ ‘Why should it?’
‘Well, it’s so different. Don’t be cross.’
‘It’s just another jungle closing in.’
‘I know just how you feel, darling. The Georgian Society made such a fuss, but we couldn’t do anything...Did you ever get my letter about Boy?’ ‘Did I? What did it say?’
(‘Boy’ Mulcaster was her brother.)
‘About his engagement. It doesn’t matter now because it’s all off, but father and mother were terribly upset. She was an awful girl. They had to give her money in the end.’
‘No, I heard nothing of Boy.’
‘He and Johnjohn are tremendous friends, now. It’s so sweet to see them together. Whenever he comes the first thing he does is to drive straight to the Old Rectory. He just walks into the house, pays no attention to anyone else, and hollers out: “Where’s my chum Johnjohn?” and Johnjohn comes tumbling downstairs and off they go into the spinney together and play for hours. You’d think, to hear them talk to each other, they were the same age. It was really Johnjohn who made him see reason about that girl; seriously, you know, he’s frightfully sharp. He must have heard mother and me talking because next time Boy came he said: “Uncle Boy shan’t marry horrid girl and leave Johnjohn,” and that was the very day he settled for two thousand pounds out of court. Johnjohn admires Boy so tremendously and imitates him in everything. It’s so good for them both.’
‘You know I haven’t. Have you?’
‘No. I’m not in love.’
My wife seemed content with this answer. She had married me six years ago at the time of my first exhibition, and had done much since then to push our interests. People said she had ‘made’ me, but she herself took credit only for supplying me with a congenial background; she had firm faith in my genius and in the ‘artistic temperament’, and in the principle that things done on the sly are not really done at all. Presently she said: ‘Looking forward to getting home?’ (My father gave me as a wedding present the price of a house, and I bought an. old rectory in my wife’s part of the country.) ‘I’ve got a surprise for you.’
‘Yes?’
‘I’ve turned the old barn into a studio for you, so that you needn’t be disturbed by the children or when we have people to stay. I got Emden to do it. Everyone thinks it a great success.
There was an article on it in Country Life; I bought it for you to see.’
She showed me the article: ‘...happy example of architectural good manners...Sir Joseph Emden’s tactful adaptation of traditional material to modern needs...’; there were some photographs; wide oak boards now covered the earthen floor; a high, stone-mullioned bay-window had been built in the north wall, and the great timbered roof, which before had been lost in shadow, now stood out stark, well lit, with clean white plaster between the beams; it looked like a village hall. I remembered the smell of the place, which would now be lost.
‘I rather liked that barn.’ I said.
‘But you’ll be able to work there, won’t you?’
‘After squatting in a cloud of sting-fly,’ I said, ‘under a sun which scorched the paper off the block as I drew, I could work on the top of an omnibus. I expect the vicar would like to borrow the place for whist drives.’
‘There’s a lot of work waiting for you. I promised Lady Anchorage you would do Anchorage House as soon as you got back. That’s coming down, too, you know - shops underneath and two-roomed flats above. You don’t think, do you, Charles, that all this exotic work you’ve been doing, is going to spoil you for that sort of thing?’ ‘Why should it?’
‘Well, it’s so different. Don’t be cross.’
‘It’s just another jungle closing in.’
‘I know just how you feel, darling. The Georgian Society made such a fuss, but we couldn’t do anything...Did you ever get my letter about Boy?’ ‘Did I? What did it say?’
(‘Boy’ Mulcaster was her brother.)
‘About his engagement. It doesn’t matter now because it’s all off, but father and mother were terribly upset. She was an awful girl. They had to give her money in the end.’
‘No, I heard nothing of Boy.’
‘He and Johnjohn are tremendous friends, now. It’s so sweet to see them together. Whenever he comes the first thing he does is to drive straight to the Old Rectory. He just walks into the house, pays no attention to anyone else, and hollers out: “Where’s my chum Johnjohn?” and Johnjohn comes tumbling downstairs and off they go into the spinney together and play for hours. You’d think, to hear them talk to each other, they were the same age. It was really Johnjohn who made him see reason about that girl; seriously, you know, he’s frightfully sharp. He must have heard mother and me talking because next time Boy came he said: “Uncle Boy shan’t marry horrid girl and leave Johnjohn,” and that was the very day he settled for two thousand pounds out of court. Johnjohn admires Boy so tremendously and imitates him in everything. It’s so good for them both.’
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Strange to say
Strange to say, this new world he had entered did not exist to him. He was an utter egoist of bricks and mortar. He had dropped out, he felt, into open space for a time, and all it contained was an audience for his reminiscences. Neither the limitless freedom of the prairie days nor the grand hush of the close-drawn,link, spangled nights touched him. All the hues of Aurora could not win him from the pink pages of a sporting journal. "Get something for nothing," was his mission in life; "Thirty-seventh" Street was his goal.
Nearly two months after his arrival he began to complain that he felt worse. It was then that he became the ranch's incubus, its harpy, its Old Man of the Sea. He shut himself in his room like some venomous kobold or flibbertigibbet, whining, complaining, cursing, accusing. The keynote of his plaint was that he had been inveigled into a gehenna against his will,UGG Clerance; that he was dying of neglect and lack of comforts. With all his dire protestations of increasing illness, to the eye of others he remained unchanged,shox torch 2. His currant-like eyes were as bright and diabolic as ever; his voice was as rasping; his callous face, with the skin drawn tense as a drum-head, had no flesh to lose. A flush on his prominent cheek bones each afternoon hinted that a clinical thermometer might have revealed a symptom, and percussion might have established the fact that McGuire was breathing with only one lung, but his appearance remained the same.
In constant attendance upon him was Ylario, whom the coming reward of the mayordomoship must have greatly stimulated, for McGuire chained him to a bitter existence. The air--the man's only chance for life--he commanded to be kept out by closed windows and drawn curtains. The room was always blue and foul with cigarette smoke; whosoever entered it must sit, suffocating, and listen to the imp's interminable gasconade concerning his scandalous career.
The oddest thing of all was the relation existing between McGuire and his benefactor. The attitude of the invalid toward the cattleman was something like that of a peevish, perverse child toward an indulgent parent. When Raidler would leave the ranch McGuire would fall into a fit of malevolent, silent sullenness. When he returned, he would be met by a string of violent and stinging reproaches. Raidler's attitude toward his charge was quite inexplicable in its way. The cattleman seemed actually to assume and feel the character assigned to him by McGuire's intemperate accusations--the character of tyrant and guilty oppressor. He seemed to have adopted the responsibility of the fellow's condition, and he always met his tirades with a pacific, patient, and even remorseful kindness that never altered.
One day Raidler said to him, "Try more air, son. You can have the buckboard and a driver every day if you'll go. Try a week or two in one of the cow camps. I'll fix you up plumb comfortable,replica gucci wallets. The ground, and the air next to it--them's the things to cure you. I knowed a man from Philadelphy, sicker than you are, got lost on the Guadalupe, and slept on the bare grass in sheep camps for two weeks. Well, sir, it started him getting well, which he done. Close to the ground--that's where the medicine in the air stays. Try a little hossback riding now. There's a gentle pony--"
Nearly two months after his arrival he began to complain that he felt worse. It was then that he became the ranch's incubus, its harpy, its Old Man of the Sea. He shut himself in his room like some venomous kobold or flibbertigibbet, whining, complaining, cursing, accusing. The keynote of his plaint was that he had been inveigled into a gehenna against his will,UGG Clerance; that he was dying of neglect and lack of comforts. With all his dire protestations of increasing illness, to the eye of others he remained unchanged,shox torch 2. His currant-like eyes were as bright and diabolic as ever; his voice was as rasping; his callous face, with the skin drawn tense as a drum-head, had no flesh to lose. A flush on his prominent cheek bones each afternoon hinted that a clinical thermometer might have revealed a symptom, and percussion might have established the fact that McGuire was breathing with only one lung, but his appearance remained the same.
In constant attendance upon him was Ylario, whom the coming reward of the mayordomoship must have greatly stimulated, for McGuire chained him to a bitter existence. The air--the man's only chance for life--he commanded to be kept out by closed windows and drawn curtains. The room was always blue and foul with cigarette smoke; whosoever entered it must sit, suffocating, and listen to the imp's interminable gasconade concerning his scandalous career.
The oddest thing of all was the relation existing between McGuire and his benefactor. The attitude of the invalid toward the cattleman was something like that of a peevish, perverse child toward an indulgent parent. When Raidler would leave the ranch McGuire would fall into a fit of malevolent, silent sullenness. When he returned, he would be met by a string of violent and stinging reproaches. Raidler's attitude toward his charge was quite inexplicable in its way. The cattleman seemed actually to assume and feel the character assigned to him by McGuire's intemperate accusations--the character of tyrant and guilty oppressor. He seemed to have adopted the responsibility of the fellow's condition, and he always met his tirades with a pacific, patient, and even remorseful kindness that never altered.
One day Raidler said to him, "Try more air, son. You can have the buckboard and a driver every day if you'll go. Try a week or two in one of the cow camps. I'll fix you up plumb comfortable,replica gucci wallets. The ground, and the air next to it--them's the things to cure you. I knowed a man from Philadelphy, sicker than you are, got lost on the Guadalupe, and slept on the bare grass in sheep camps for two weeks. Well, sir, it started him getting well, which he done. Close to the ground--that's where the medicine in the air stays. Try a little hossback riding now. There's a gentle pony--"
I consider that you ARE disgraced
"I consider that you ARE disgraced, Lily: disgraced by your conduct far more than by its results. You say your friends have persuaded you to play cards with them; well, they may as well learn a lesson too. They can probably afford to lose a little money--and at any rate, I am not going to waste any of mine in paying them. And now I must ask you to leave me--this scene has been extremely painful, and I have my own health to consider. Draw down the blinds, please; and tell Jennings I will see no one this afternoon but Grace Stepney."
Lily went up to her own room and bolted the door. She was trembling with fear and anger--the rush of the furies' wings was in her ears. She walked up and down the room with blind irregular steps. The last door of escape was closed--she felt herself shut in with her dishonour.
Suddenly her wild pacing brought her before the clock on the chimney-piece. Its hands stood at half-past three, and she remembered that Selden was to come to her at four. She had meant to put him off with a word--but now her heart leaped at the thought of seeing him,fake uggs online store. Was there not a promise of rescue in his love? As she had lain at Gerty's side the night before,Moncler outlet online store, she had thought of his coming, and of the sweetness of weeping out her pain upon his breast. Of course she had meant to clear herself of its consequences before she met him--she had never really doubted that Mrs. Peniston would come to her aid. And she had felt, even in the full storm of her misery, that Selden's love could not be her ultimate refuge; only it would be so sweet to take a moment's shelter there, while she gathered fresh strength to go on.
But now his love was her only hope, and as she sat alone with her wretchedness the thought of confiding in him became as seductive as the river's flow to the suicide. The first plunge would be terrible--but afterward,LINK, what blessedness might come! She remembered Gerty's words: "I know him--he will help you"; and her mind clung to them as a sick person might cling to a healing relic,fake uggs for sale. Oh, if he really understood--if he would help her to gather up her broken life, and put it together in some new semblance in which no trace of the past should remain! He had always made her feel that she was worthy of better things, and she had never been in greater need of such solace. Once and again she shrank at the thought of imperilling his love by her confession: for love was what she needed--it would take the glow of passion to weld together the shattered fragments of her self-esteem. But she recurred to Gerty's words and held fast to them. She was sure that Gerty knew Selden's feeling for her, and it had never dawned upon her blindness that Gerty's own judgment of him was coloured by emotions far more ardent than her own.
Four o'clock found her in the drawing-room: she was sure that Selden would be punctual. But the hour came and passed--it moved on feverishly, measured by her impatient heart-beats. She had time to take a fresh survey of her wretchedness, and to fluctuate anew between the impulse to confide in Selden and the dread of destroying his illusions. But as the minutes passed the need of throwing herself on his comprehension became more urgent: she could not bear the weight of her misery alone. There would be a perilous moment, perhaps: but could she not trust to her beauty to bridge it over, to land her safe in the shelter of his devotion?
Lily went up to her own room and bolted the door. She was trembling with fear and anger--the rush of the furies' wings was in her ears. She walked up and down the room with blind irregular steps. The last door of escape was closed--she felt herself shut in with her dishonour.
Suddenly her wild pacing brought her before the clock on the chimney-piece. Its hands stood at half-past three, and she remembered that Selden was to come to her at four. She had meant to put him off with a word--but now her heart leaped at the thought of seeing him,fake uggs online store. Was there not a promise of rescue in his love? As she had lain at Gerty's side the night before,Moncler outlet online store, she had thought of his coming, and of the sweetness of weeping out her pain upon his breast. Of course she had meant to clear herself of its consequences before she met him--she had never really doubted that Mrs. Peniston would come to her aid. And she had felt, even in the full storm of her misery, that Selden's love could not be her ultimate refuge; only it would be so sweet to take a moment's shelter there, while she gathered fresh strength to go on.
But now his love was her only hope, and as she sat alone with her wretchedness the thought of confiding in him became as seductive as the river's flow to the suicide. The first plunge would be terrible--but afterward,LINK, what blessedness might come! She remembered Gerty's words: "I know him--he will help you"; and her mind clung to them as a sick person might cling to a healing relic,fake uggs for sale. Oh, if he really understood--if he would help her to gather up her broken life, and put it together in some new semblance in which no trace of the past should remain! He had always made her feel that she was worthy of better things, and she had never been in greater need of such solace. Once and again she shrank at the thought of imperilling his love by her confession: for love was what she needed--it would take the glow of passion to weld together the shattered fragments of her self-esteem. But she recurred to Gerty's words and held fast to them. She was sure that Gerty knew Selden's feeling for her, and it had never dawned upon her blindness that Gerty's own judgment of him was coloured by emotions far more ardent than her own.
Four o'clock found her in the drawing-room: she was sure that Selden would be punctual. But the hour came and passed--it moved on feverishly, measured by her impatient heart-beats. She had time to take a fresh survey of her wretchedness, and to fluctuate anew between the impulse to confide in Selden and the dread of destroying his illusions. But as the minutes passed the need of throwing herself on his comprehension became more urgent: she could not bear the weight of her misery alone. There would be a perilous moment, perhaps: but could she not trust to her beauty to bridge it over, to land her safe in the shelter of his devotion?
Friday, November 23, 2012
We never did
"We never did," said Mr. McCaskey, lingering with the fact.
"But if we had, Jawn, think what sorrow would be in our hearts this night, with our little Phelan run away and stolen in the city nowheres at all."
"Ye talk foolishness," said Mr. McCaskey. "'Tis Pat he would be named, after me old father in Cantrim."
"Ye lie!" said Mrs. McCaskey, without anger. "Me brother was worth tin dozen bog-trotting McCaskeys. After him would the bye be named." She leaned over the window-sill and looked down at the hurrying and bustle below.
"Jawn," said Mrs. McCaskey, softly, "I'm sorry I was hasty wid ye."
"'Twas hasty puddin', as ye say," said her husband, "and hurry-up turnips and get-a-move-on-ye coffee. 'Twas what ye could call a quick lunch, all right, and tell no lie."
Mrs. McCaskey slipped her arm inside her husband's and took his rough hand in hers.
"Listen at the cryin' of poor Mrs. Murphy," she said. "'Tis an awful thing for a bit of a bye to be lost in this great big city. If 'twas our little Phelan, Jawn, I'd be breakin' me heart."
Awkwardly Mr. McCaskey withdrew his hand. But he laid it around the nearing shoulders of his wife.
"'Tis foolishness, of course," said he, roughly, "but I'd be cut up some meself if our little Pat was kidnapped or anything. But there never was any childer for us.
Sometimes I've been ugly and hard with ye, Judy. Forget it."
They leaned together, and looked down at the heart-drama being acted below.
Long they sat thus. People surged along the sidewalk, crowding, questioning, filling the air with rumours, and inconsequent surmises. Mrs. Murphy ploughed back and forth in their midst, like a soft mountain down which plunged an audible cataract of tears. Couriers came and went.
Loud voices and a renewed uproar were raised in front of the boarding-house.
"What's up now, Judy?" asked Mr. McCaskey.
"'Tis Missis Murphy's voice," said Mrs. McCaskey, harking. "She says she's after finding little Mike asleep behind the roll of old linoleum under the bed in her room."
Mr. McCaskey laughed loudly.
"That's yer Phelan," he shouted, sardonically. "Divil a bit would a Pat have done that trick. If the bye we never had is strayed and stole, by the powers, call him Phelan, and see him hide out under the bed like a mangy pup."
Mrs. McCaskey arose heavily, and went toward the dish closet, with the corners of her mouth drawn down.
Policeman Cleary came back around the corner as the crowd dispersed. Surprised, he upturned an ear toward the McCaskey apartment, where the crash of irons and chinaware and the ring of hurled kitchen utensils seemed as loud as before. Policeman Cleary took out his timepiece.
"By the deported snakes!" he exclaimed, "Jawn McCaskey and his lady have been fightin' for an hour and a quarter by the watch. The missis could give him forty pounds weight. Strength to his arm."
Policeman Cleary strolled back around the corner.
Old man Denny folded his paper and hurried up the steps just as Mrs. Murphy was about to lock the door for the night.
A Bird Of Bagdad
Without a doubt much of the spirit and genius of the Caliph Harun Al Rashid descended to the Margrave August Michael von Paulsen Quigg.
"But if we had, Jawn, think what sorrow would be in our hearts this night, with our little Phelan run away and stolen in the city nowheres at all."
"Ye talk foolishness," said Mr. McCaskey. "'Tis Pat he would be named, after me old father in Cantrim."
"Ye lie!" said Mrs. McCaskey, without anger. "Me brother was worth tin dozen bog-trotting McCaskeys. After him would the bye be named." She leaned over the window-sill and looked down at the hurrying and bustle below.
"Jawn," said Mrs. McCaskey, softly, "I'm sorry I was hasty wid ye."
"'Twas hasty puddin', as ye say," said her husband, "and hurry-up turnips and get-a-move-on-ye coffee. 'Twas what ye could call a quick lunch, all right, and tell no lie."
Mrs. McCaskey slipped her arm inside her husband's and took his rough hand in hers.
"Listen at the cryin' of poor Mrs. Murphy," she said. "'Tis an awful thing for a bit of a bye to be lost in this great big city. If 'twas our little Phelan, Jawn, I'd be breakin' me heart."
Awkwardly Mr. McCaskey withdrew his hand. But he laid it around the nearing shoulders of his wife.
"'Tis foolishness, of course," said he, roughly, "but I'd be cut up some meself if our little Pat was kidnapped or anything. But there never was any childer for us.
Sometimes I've been ugly and hard with ye, Judy. Forget it."
They leaned together, and looked down at the heart-drama being acted below.
Long they sat thus. People surged along the sidewalk, crowding, questioning, filling the air with rumours, and inconsequent surmises. Mrs. Murphy ploughed back and forth in their midst, like a soft mountain down which plunged an audible cataract of tears. Couriers came and went.
Loud voices and a renewed uproar were raised in front of the boarding-house.
"What's up now, Judy?" asked Mr. McCaskey.
"'Tis Missis Murphy's voice," said Mrs. McCaskey, harking. "She says she's after finding little Mike asleep behind the roll of old linoleum under the bed in her room."
Mr. McCaskey laughed loudly.
"That's yer Phelan," he shouted, sardonically. "Divil a bit would a Pat have done that trick. If the bye we never had is strayed and stole, by the powers, call him Phelan, and see him hide out under the bed like a mangy pup."
Mrs. McCaskey arose heavily, and went toward the dish closet, with the corners of her mouth drawn down.
Policeman Cleary came back around the corner as the crowd dispersed. Surprised, he upturned an ear toward the McCaskey apartment, where the crash of irons and chinaware and the ring of hurled kitchen utensils seemed as loud as before. Policeman Cleary took out his timepiece.
"By the deported snakes!" he exclaimed, "Jawn McCaskey and his lady have been fightin' for an hour and a quarter by the watch. The missis could give him forty pounds weight. Strength to his arm."
Policeman Cleary strolled back around the corner.
Old man Denny folded his paper and hurried up the steps just as Mrs. Murphy was about to lock the door for the night.
A Bird Of Bagdad
Without a doubt much of the spirit and genius of the Caliph Harun Al Rashid descended to the Margrave August Michael von Paulsen Quigg.
At last Jeanne woke to life again
At last Jeanne woke to life again, and strove to smile as of old.
"Don't worry, mamma," said she; "I shall be all right soon. Now that you have done you must put me to bed. I only wanted to see you have your dinner. Oh! I know you; you wouldn't have eaten as much as a morsel of bread."
Helene bore her away in her arms. She had brought the little crib close to her own bed in the blue room. When Jeanne had stretched out her limbs, and the bedclothes were tucked up under her chin, she declared she felt much better. There were no more complaints about dull pains at the back of her head; but she melted into tenderness, and her passionate love seemed to grow more pronounced. Helene was forced to caress her, to avow intense affection for her, and to promise that she would again kiss her when she came to bed.
"Never mind if I'm sleeping," said Jeanne. "I shall know you're there all the same."
She closed her eyes and fell into a doze. Helene remained near her, watching over her slumber. When Rosalie entered on tip-toe to ask permission to go to bed, she answered "Yes" with a nod. At last eleven o'clock struck, and Helene was still watching there, when she imagined she heard a gentle tapping at the outer door. Bewildered with astonishment, she took up the lamp and left the room to make sure.
"Who is there?"
"'Tis I; open the door," replied a voice in stifled tones.
It was Henri's voice. She quickly opened the door, thinking his coming only natural. No doubt he had but now been informed of Jeanne's illness, and had hastened to her, although she had not summoned him to her assistance, feeling a certain shame at the thought of allowing him to share in attending on her daughter.
However, he gave her no opportunity to speak. He followed her into the dining-room, trembling, with inflamed visage.
"I beseech you, pardon me," he faltered, as he caught hold of her hand. "I haven't seen you for three days past, and I cannot resist the craving to see you."
Helene withdrew her hand. He stepped back, but, with his gaze still fixed on her, continued: "Don't be afraid; I love you. I would have waited at the door had you not opened it. Oh! I know very well it is simple madness, but I love you, I love you all the same!"
Her face was grave as she listened, eloquent with a dumb reproach which tortured him, and impelled him to pour forth his passionate love.
But Helene still remained standing, wholly unmoved. At last she spoke. "You know nothing, then?" asked she.
He had taken her hand, and was raising it to his lips, when she started back with a gesture of impatience.
"Oh! leave me!" she exclaimed. "You see that I am not even listening to you. I have something far different to think about!"
Then becoming more composed, she put her question to him a second time. "You know nothing? Well, my daughter is ill. I am pleased to see you; you will dispel my fears."
She took up the lamp and walked on before him, but as they were passing through the doorway, she turned, and looking at him, said firmly:
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Agrippina had been delivered of her child
Agrippina had been delivered of her child, a girl called Agrippinilla, at Cologne; and I must say at once that this Agrippinilla turned out one of the very worst of the Claudians-in fact, I may say that she shows signs of outdoing all her ancestors and ancestresses in arrogance and vice. Agrippina was ill for some months after her delivery, and unable to keep Caligula in hand properly, so he was sent away on a visit to Rome as soon as Gennanicus began his spring campaign. The child became a sort of national hero. Whenever he went out for a walk with his brothers he was cheered and stared at and made much of. Not yet three years old but marvellously precocious, he was a most difficult case, only pleasant when flattered and only docile when treated firmly. He came to stay with his great-grandmother Livia, but she had no time to look after him properly, and because he was always getting into mischief and quarrelling with his elder brothers, he came from her to live with my mother and me. My mother never flattered him, but neither did she treat him with enough firmness, until one day he spat at her in a fit of temper and she gave him a good spanking. "You horrid old German woman," he said, "I'll bum your German house down!" He used '"German" as the worst insult he knew. And that afternoon he sneaked away into a lumber-room, which was next to the slaves' attic and full of old furniture and rubbish, and there set fire to a heap of worn-out straw mattresses. The fire soon swept the whole upper storey, and since it was an old house with dry-rot in the beams and draught-holes in the flooring there was no putting it out even with an endless bucket-chain to the carp pool. I managed to save all my papers and valuables and some of the furniture, and no lives were lost except two old slaves who were lying sick in bed, but nothing was left of the house except the bare walls and the cellars. Caligula was not punished, because the fire had given him such a great fright. He nearly got caught in it himself, hiding guiltily under his bed until the smoke drove him screaming out.
Well, the Senate wanted to decree that my house should be rebuilt at the expense of the State, on the ground that it had been the home of so many distinguished members of my family: but Tiberius would not allow this. He said that the outbreak of fire had been due to my negligence and that the damage could easily have been confined to the attics if I had acted in a responsible way; and rather than that the State should pay he undertook to rebuild and refurnish the house himself. Loud applause from the House. This was most unjust and dishonest, particularly as he had no intention of keeping his undertaking. I was forced to sell my last important piece of property in Rome, a block of houses near the Cattle Market and a large building site adjoining, to rebuild the house at my own expense. I never told Gennanicus that Caligula had been the incendiary, because he would have felt obliged to make good the damage himself; and, I suppose it was, in a way, an accident, because one couldn't hold so young a child responsible.
Well, the Senate wanted to decree that my house should be rebuilt at the expense of the State, on the ground that it had been the home of so many distinguished members of my family: but Tiberius would not allow this. He said that the outbreak of fire had been due to my negligence and that the damage could easily have been confined to the attics if I had acted in a responsible way; and rather than that the State should pay he undertook to rebuild and refurnish the house himself. Loud applause from the House. This was most unjust and dishonest, particularly as he had no intention of keeping his undertaking. I was forced to sell my last important piece of property in Rome, a block of houses near the Cattle Market and a large building site adjoining, to rebuild the house at my own expense. I never told Gennanicus that Caligula had been the incendiary, because he would have felt obliged to make good the damage himself; and, I suppose it was, in a way, an accident, because one couldn't hold so young a child responsible.
'Always that
'Always that, mein Sohn, seventy time seven, if needs be, else I amnot worthy the name you give me. The punishment has come; I can giveno greater. Let it not be in vain. It will not with the help of themother and the All Father. Room here for both, always!'
The good Professor opened his arms and embraced his boys like a trueGerman, not ashamed to express by gesture or by word the fatherlyemotions an American would have compressed into a slap on theshoulder and a brief 'All right'.
Mrs Jo sat and enjoyed the prospect like a romantic soul as she was,and then they had a quiet talk together, saying freely all that wasin their hearts, and finding much comfort in the confidence whichcomes when love casts out fear. It was agreed that nothing be saidexcept to Nan, who was to be thanked and rewarded for her courage,discretion, and fidelity.
'I always knew that girl had the making of a fine woman in her, andthis proves it. No panics and shrieks and faintings and fuss, butcalm sense and energetic skill. Dear child, what can I give or do toshow my gratitude?' said Mrs Jo enthusiastically.
'Make Tom clear out and leave her in peace,' suggested Ted, almosthimself again, though a pensive haze still partially obscured hisnative gaiety.
'Yes, do! he frets her like a mosquito. She forbade him to come outhere while she stayed, and packed him off with Demi. I like old Tom,but he is a regular noodle about Nan,' added Rob, as he went away tohelp his father with the accumulated letters.
'I'll do it!' said Mrs Jo decidedly. 'That girl's career shall not behampered by a foolish boy's fancy. In a moment of weariness she maygive in, and then it's all over. Wiser women have done so andregretted it all their lives. Nan shall earn her place first, andprove that she can fill it; then she may marry if she likes, and canfind a man worthy of her.'
But Mrs Jo's help was not needed; for love and gratitude can workmiracles, and when youth, beauty, accident, and photography areadded, success is sure; as was proved in the case of the unsuspectingbut too susceptible Thomas.
Chapter 8 Josie Plays Mermaid
While the young Bhaers were having serious experiences at home, Josiewas enjoying herself immensely at Rocky Nook; for the Laurences knewhow to make summer idleness both charming and wholesome. Bess wasvery fond of her little cousin; Mrs Amy felt that whether her niecewas an actress or not she must be a gentlewoman, and gave her thesocial training which marks the well-bred woman everywhere; whileUncle Laurie was never happier than when rowing, riding, playing, orlounging with two gay girls beside him. Josie bloomed like a wildflower in this free life, Bess grew rosy, brisk, and merry, and bothwere great favourites with the neighbours, whose villas were by theshore or perched on the cliffs along the pretty bay.
One crumpled rose-leaf disturbed Josie's peace, one baffled wishfilled her with a longing which became a mania, and kept her asrestless and watchful as a detective with a case to 'work up'. MissCameron, the great actress, had hired one of the villas and retiredthither to rest and 'create' a new part for next season. She saw noone but a friend or two, had a private beach, and was invisibleexcept during her daily drive, or when the opera-glasses of curiousgazers were fixed on a blue figure disporting itself in the sea. TheLaurences knew her, but respected her privacy, and after a call lefther in peace till she expressed a wish for society--a courtesy whichshe remembered and repaid later, as we shall see.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
She braved it for a moment or two with an eye full of love and stubbornness
She braved it for a moment or two with an eye full of love and stubbornness, and murmured a phrase or two vaguely of Gen. Pinkney; but at length down went her head and out came the truth and tears.
"I couldn't get any pupils," she confessed. "And I couldn't bear to have you give up your lessons; and I got a place ironing shirts in that big Twentyfourth street laundry. And I think I did very well to make up both General Pinkney and Clementina, don't you, Joe? And when a girl in the laundry set down a hot iron on my hand this afternoon I was all the way home making up that story about the Welsh rabbit. You're not angry, are you, Joe? And if I hadn't got the work you mightn't have sold your sketches to that man from Peoria.
"He wasn't from Peoria," said Joe, slowly.
"Well, it doesn't matter where he was from. How clever you are, Joe --and--kiss me, Joe--and what made you ever suspect that I wasn't giving music lessons to Clementina?"
"I didn't," said Joe, "until to-night. And I wouldn't have then, only I sent up this cotton waste and oil from the engine-room this afternoon for a girl upstairs who had her hand burned with a smoothing-iron. I've been firing the engine in that laundry for the last two weeks."
"And then you didn't--"
"My purchaser from Peoria," said Joe, "and Gen. Pinkney are both creations of the same art--but you wouldn't call it either painting or music.
And then they both laughed, and Joe began:
"When one loves one's Art no service seems--"
But Delia stopped him with her hand on his lips. "No," she said-- "just 'When one loves.'"
当你爱好你的艺术时，就觉得没有什么牺牲是难以忍受的。
那是我们的前提。这篇故事将从它那里得出一个结论，同时证明那个前提的不正确。从逻辑学的观点来说，这固然是一件新鲜事，可是从文学的观点来说，却是一件比中国的万里长城还要古老的艺术。
乔·拉雷毕来自中西部槲树参天的平原，浑身散发着绘画艺术的天才。他还只六岁的时候就画了一幅镇上抽水机的风景，抽水机旁边画了一个匆匆走过去的、有声望的居民。这件作品给配上架子，挂在药房的橱窗里，挨着一只留有几排参差不齐的玉米的穗轴。二十岁的时候，他背井离乡到了纽约，束着一条飘垂的领带，带着一个更为飘垂的荷包。
德丽雅·加鲁塞斯生长在南方一个松林小村里，她把六音阶之类的玩意儿搞得那样出色，以致她的亲戚们给她凑了一笔数目很小的款子，让她到北方去"深造"。他们没有看到她成——，那就是我们要讲的故事。
乔和德丽雅在一个画室里见了面，那儿有许多研究美术和音乐的人经常聚会，讨论明暗对照法、瓦格纳①、音乐、伦勃朗的作品②、绘画、瓦尔特杜弗③、糊墙纸、萧邦④、奥朗⑤。
乔和德丽雅互相——或者彼此，随你高兴怎么说——一见倾心，短期内就结了婚——当你爱好你的艺术时，就觉得没有什么牺牲是难以忍受的。
拉雷毕夫妇租了一层公寓，开始组织家庭。那是一个寂静的地方——单调得像是钢琴键盘左端的Ａ高半音。可是他们很幸福；因为他们有了各自的艺术，又有了对方。我对有钱的年轻人的劝告是——为了争取和你的艺术以及你的德丽雅住在公寓里的权利，赶快把你所有的东西都卖掉，施舍给穷苦的看门人吧。
公寓生活是唯一真正的快乐，住公寓的人一定都赞成我的论断。家庭只要幸福，房间小又何妨——让梳妆台坍下来作为弹子桌；让火炉架改作练习划船的机器；让写字桌充当临时的卧榻，洗脸架充当竖式钢琴；如果可能的话，让四堵墙壁挤拢来，你和你的德丽雅仍旧在里面，可是假若家庭不幸福，随它怎么宽敞——你从金门进去，把帽子挂在哈得拉斯，把披肩挂在合恩角，然后穿过拉布拉多出去⑥，到头还是枉然。
乔在伟大的马杰斯脱那儿学画——各位都知道他的声望。他取费高昂；课程轻松——他的高昂轻松给他带来了声望。德丽雅在罗森斯托克那儿学习，各位也知道他是一个出名的专跟钢琴键盘找麻烦的家伙。
只要他们的钱没用完，他们的生活是非常幸福的。谁都是这样——算了吧，我不愿意说愤世嫉俗的话。他们的目标非常清楚明确。乔很快就能有画问世，那些鬓须稀朗而钱袋厚实的老先生，就要争先恐后地挤到他的画室里来抢购他的作品。德丽雅要把音乐搞好，然后对它满不在乎，如果她看到音乐厅里的位置和包厢不满座的话，她可以推托喉痛，拒绝登台，在专用的餐室里吃龙虾。
但是依我说，最美满的还是那小公寓里的家庭生活：学习了一天之后的情话絮语；舒适的晚饭和新鲜、清淡的早餐；关于志向的交谈——他们不但关心自己的，也关心对方的志向，否则就没有意义了——互助和灵感；还有——恕我直率——晚上十一点钟吃的菜裹肉片和奶酪三明治。
可是没多久，艺术动摇了。即使没有人去摇动它，有时它自己也会动摇的。俗语说得好，坐吃山空，应该付给马杰斯脱和罗森斯托克两位先生的学费也没着落了。当你爱好你的艺术时，就觉得没有什么牺牲是难以忍受的。于是，德丽雅说，她得教授音乐，以免断炊。
她在外面奔走了两三天，兜揽学生。一天晚上，她兴高采烈地回家来。
"乔，亲爱的，"她快活地说，"我有一个学生啦。哟，那家人可真好。一位将军——爱·皮·品克奈将军的小姐，住在第七十一街。多么漂亮的房子，乔——你该看看那扇大门！我想就是你所说的拜占廷式⑦。还有屋子里面！喔，乔，我从没见过那样豪华的摆设。
"I couldn't get any pupils," she confessed. "And I couldn't bear to have you give up your lessons; and I got a place ironing shirts in that big Twentyfourth street laundry. And I think I did very well to make up both General Pinkney and Clementina, don't you, Joe? And when a girl in the laundry set down a hot iron on my hand this afternoon I was all the way home making up that story about the Welsh rabbit. You're not angry, are you, Joe? And if I hadn't got the work you mightn't have sold your sketches to that man from Peoria.
"He wasn't from Peoria," said Joe, slowly.
"Well, it doesn't matter where he was from. How clever you are, Joe --and--kiss me, Joe--and what made you ever suspect that I wasn't giving music lessons to Clementina?"
"I didn't," said Joe, "until to-night. And I wouldn't have then, only I sent up this cotton waste and oil from the engine-room this afternoon for a girl upstairs who had her hand burned with a smoothing-iron. I've been firing the engine in that laundry for the last two weeks."
"And then you didn't--"
"My purchaser from Peoria," said Joe, "and Gen. Pinkney are both creations of the same art--but you wouldn't call it either painting or music.
And then they both laughed, and Joe began:
"When one loves one's Art no service seems--"
But Delia stopped him with her hand on his lips. "No," she said-- "just 'When one loves.'"
当你爱好你的艺术时，就觉得没有什么牺牲是难以忍受的。
那是我们的前提。这篇故事将从它那里得出一个结论，同时证明那个前提的不正确。从逻辑学的观点来说，这固然是一件新鲜事，可是从文学的观点来说，却是一件比中国的万里长城还要古老的艺术。
乔·拉雷毕来自中西部槲树参天的平原，浑身散发着绘画艺术的天才。他还只六岁的时候就画了一幅镇上抽水机的风景，抽水机旁边画了一个匆匆走过去的、有声望的居民。这件作品给配上架子，挂在药房的橱窗里，挨着一只留有几排参差不齐的玉米的穗轴。二十岁的时候，他背井离乡到了纽约，束着一条飘垂的领带，带着一个更为飘垂的荷包。
德丽雅·加鲁塞斯生长在南方一个松林小村里，她把六音阶之类的玩意儿搞得那样出色，以致她的亲戚们给她凑了一笔数目很小的款子，让她到北方去"深造"。他们没有看到她成——，那就是我们要讲的故事。
乔和德丽雅在一个画室里见了面，那儿有许多研究美术和音乐的人经常聚会，讨论明暗对照法、瓦格纳①、音乐、伦勃朗的作品②、绘画、瓦尔特杜弗③、糊墙纸、萧邦④、奥朗⑤。
乔和德丽雅互相——或者彼此，随你高兴怎么说——一见倾心，短期内就结了婚——当你爱好你的艺术时，就觉得没有什么牺牲是难以忍受的。
拉雷毕夫妇租了一层公寓，开始组织家庭。那是一个寂静的地方——单调得像是钢琴键盘左端的Ａ高半音。可是他们很幸福；因为他们有了各自的艺术，又有了对方。我对有钱的年轻人的劝告是——为了争取和你的艺术以及你的德丽雅住在公寓里的权利，赶快把你所有的东西都卖掉，施舍给穷苦的看门人吧。
公寓生活是唯一真正的快乐，住公寓的人一定都赞成我的论断。家庭只要幸福，房间小又何妨——让梳妆台坍下来作为弹子桌；让火炉架改作练习划船的机器；让写字桌充当临时的卧榻，洗脸架充当竖式钢琴；如果可能的话，让四堵墙壁挤拢来，你和你的德丽雅仍旧在里面，可是假若家庭不幸福，随它怎么宽敞——你从金门进去，把帽子挂在哈得拉斯，把披肩挂在合恩角，然后穿过拉布拉多出去⑥，到头还是枉然。
乔在伟大的马杰斯脱那儿学画——各位都知道他的声望。他取费高昂；课程轻松——他的高昂轻松给他带来了声望。德丽雅在罗森斯托克那儿学习，各位也知道他是一个出名的专跟钢琴键盘找麻烦的家伙。
只要他们的钱没用完，他们的生活是非常幸福的。谁都是这样——算了吧，我不愿意说愤世嫉俗的话。他们的目标非常清楚明确。乔很快就能有画问世，那些鬓须稀朗而钱袋厚实的老先生，就要争先恐后地挤到他的画室里来抢购他的作品。德丽雅要把音乐搞好，然后对它满不在乎，如果她看到音乐厅里的位置和包厢不满座的话，她可以推托喉痛，拒绝登台，在专用的餐室里吃龙虾。
但是依我说，最美满的还是那小公寓里的家庭生活：学习了一天之后的情话絮语；舒适的晚饭和新鲜、清淡的早餐；关于志向的交谈——他们不但关心自己的，也关心对方的志向，否则就没有意义了——互助和灵感；还有——恕我直率——晚上十一点钟吃的菜裹肉片和奶酪三明治。
可是没多久，艺术动摇了。即使没有人去摇动它，有时它自己也会动摇的。俗语说得好，坐吃山空，应该付给马杰斯脱和罗森斯托克两位先生的学费也没着落了。当你爱好你的艺术时，就觉得没有什么牺牲是难以忍受的。于是，德丽雅说，她得教授音乐，以免断炊。
她在外面奔走了两三天，兜揽学生。一天晚上，她兴高采烈地回家来。
"乔，亲爱的，"她快活地说，"我有一个学生啦。哟，那家人可真好。一位将军——爱·皮·品克奈将军的小姐，住在第七十一街。多么漂亮的房子，乔——你该看看那扇大门！我想就是你所说的拜占廷式⑦。还有屋子里面！喔，乔，我从没见过那样豪华的摆设。
The other young man seemed to welcome the advances of the airy ex-coachman
The other young man seemed to welcome the advances of the airy ex-coachman.
"No," said he, "mine isn't exactly a case of drink. Unless we allow that Cupid is a bartender. I married unwisely, according to the opinion of my unforgiving relatives. I've been out of work for a year because I don't know how to work; and I've been sick in Bellevue and other hospitals for months. My wife and kid had to go back to her mother. I was turned out of the hospital yesterday. And I haven't a cent. That's my tale of woe."
"Tough luck," said Thomas. "A man alone can pull through all right. But I hate to see the women and kids get the worst of it."
Just then there hummed up Fifth Avenue a motor car so splendid, so red, so smoothly running, so craftily demolishing the speed regulations that it drew the attention even of the listless Bed Liners. Suspended and pinioned on its left side was an extra tire.
When opposite the unfortunate company the fastenings of this tire became loosed,replica gucci handbags. It fell to the asphalt, bounded and rolled rapidly in the wake of the flying car.
Thomas McQuade,replica mont blanc pens, scenting an opportunity, darted from his place among the Preacher's goats. In thirty seconds he had caught the rolling tire, swung it over his shoulder, and was trotting smartly after the car. On both sides of the avenue people were shouting, whistling, and waving canes at the red car,shox torch 2, pointing to the enterprising Thomas coming up with the lost tire.
One dollar, Thomas had estimated, was the smallest guerdon that so grand an automobilist could offer for the service he had rendered, and save his pride.
Two blocks away the car had stopped. There was a little, brown, muffled chauffeur driving, and an imposing gentleman wearing a magnificent sealskin coat and a silk hat on a rear seat.
Thomas proffered the captured tire with his best ex-coachman manner and a look in the brighter of his reddened eyes that was meant to be suggestive to the extent of a silver coin or two and receptive up to higher denominations.
But the look was not so construed. The sealskinned gentleman received the tire, placed it inside the car, gazed intently at the ex-coachman, and muttered to himself inscrutable words.
"Strange - strange!" said he. "Once or twice even I, myself, have fancied that the Chaldean Chiroscope has availed. Could it be possible?"
Then he addressed less mysterious words to the waiting and hopeful Thomas.
"Sir, I thank you for your kind rescue of my tire. And I would ask you, if I may, a question. Do you know the family of Van Smuythes living in Washington Square North?"
"Oughtn't I to?" replied Thomas. "I lived there. Wish I did yet."
The sealskinned gentleman opened a door of the car.
"Step in please," he said. "You have been expected."
Thomas McQuade obeyed with surprise but without hesitation. A seat in a motor car seemed better than standing room in the Bed Line. But after the lap-robe had been tucked about him and the auto had sped on its course, the peculiarity of the invitation lingered in his mind.
"Maybe the guy hasn't got any change," was his diagnosis. "Lots of these swell rounders don't lug about any ready money. Guess he'll dump me out when he gets to some joint where he can get cash on his mug,nike shox torch ii. Anyhow, it's a cinch that I've got that open-air bed convention beat to a finish."
"No," said he, "mine isn't exactly a case of drink. Unless we allow that Cupid is a bartender. I married unwisely, according to the opinion of my unforgiving relatives. I've been out of work for a year because I don't know how to work; and I've been sick in Bellevue and other hospitals for months. My wife and kid had to go back to her mother. I was turned out of the hospital yesterday. And I haven't a cent. That's my tale of woe."
"Tough luck," said Thomas. "A man alone can pull through all right. But I hate to see the women and kids get the worst of it."
Just then there hummed up Fifth Avenue a motor car so splendid, so red, so smoothly running, so craftily demolishing the speed regulations that it drew the attention even of the listless Bed Liners. Suspended and pinioned on its left side was an extra tire.
When opposite the unfortunate company the fastenings of this tire became loosed,replica gucci handbags. It fell to the asphalt, bounded and rolled rapidly in the wake of the flying car.
Thomas McQuade,replica mont blanc pens, scenting an opportunity, darted from his place among the Preacher's goats. In thirty seconds he had caught the rolling tire, swung it over his shoulder, and was trotting smartly after the car. On both sides of the avenue people were shouting, whistling, and waving canes at the red car,shox torch 2, pointing to the enterprising Thomas coming up with the lost tire.
One dollar, Thomas had estimated, was the smallest guerdon that so grand an automobilist could offer for the service he had rendered, and save his pride.
Two blocks away the car had stopped. There was a little, brown, muffled chauffeur driving, and an imposing gentleman wearing a magnificent sealskin coat and a silk hat on a rear seat.
Thomas proffered the captured tire with his best ex-coachman manner and a look in the brighter of his reddened eyes that was meant to be suggestive to the extent of a silver coin or two and receptive up to higher denominations.
But the look was not so construed. The sealskinned gentleman received the tire, placed it inside the car, gazed intently at the ex-coachman, and muttered to himself inscrutable words.
"Strange - strange!" said he. "Once or twice even I, myself, have fancied that the Chaldean Chiroscope has availed. Could it be possible?"
Then he addressed less mysterious words to the waiting and hopeful Thomas.
"Sir, I thank you for your kind rescue of my tire. And I would ask you, if I may, a question. Do you know the family of Van Smuythes living in Washington Square North?"
"Oughtn't I to?" replied Thomas. "I lived there. Wish I did yet."
The sealskinned gentleman opened a door of the car.
"Step in please," he said. "You have been expected."
Thomas McQuade obeyed with surprise but without hesitation. A seat in a motor car seemed better than standing room in the Bed Line. But after the lap-robe had been tucked about him and the auto had sped on its course, the peculiarity of the invitation lingered in his mind.
"Maybe the guy hasn't got any change," was his diagnosis. "Lots of these swell rounders don't lug about any ready money. Guess he'll dump me out when he gets to some joint where he can get cash on his mug,nike shox torch ii. Anyhow, it's a cinch that I've got that open-air bed convention beat to a finish."
It can't be
"It can't be; I am going to see about it!" Delaherche exclaimed, violently excited.
"Where are you going, pray?" asked Bouroche.
"Why, to the Sous-Prefecture, to see what the Emperor means by fooling us in this way, with his talk of hoisting the white flag."
For some few seconds the major stood as if petrified at the idea of defeat and capitulation, which presented itself to him then for the first time in the midst of his impotent efforts to save the lives of the poor maimed creatures they were bringing in to him from the field. Rage and grief were in his voice as he shouted:
"Go to the devil, if you will! All you can do won't keep us from being soundly whipped!"
On leaving the factory Delaherche found it no easy task to squeeze his way through the throng; at every instant the crowd of straggling soldiers that filled the streets received fresh accessions. He questioned several of the officers whom he encountered; not one of them had seen the white flag on the citadel. Finally he met a colonel, who declared that he had caught a momentary glimpse of it: that it had been run up and then immediately hauled down. That explained matters; either the Germans had not seen it, or seeing it appear and disappear so quickly, had inferred the distressed condition of the French and redoubled their fire in consequence. There was a story in circulation how a general officer, enraged beyond control at the sight of the flag, had wrested it from its bearer, broken the staff, and trampled it in the mud. And still the Prussian batteries continued to play upon the city, shells were falling upon the roofs and in the streets, houses were in flames; a woman had just been killed at the corner of the Rue Pont de Meuse and the Place Turenne.
At the Sous-Prefecture Delaherche failed to find Rose at her usual station in the janitor's lodge. Everywhere were evidences of disorder; all the doors were standing open; the reign of terror had commenced. As there was no sentry or anyone to prevent,homepage, he went upstairs, encountering on the way only a few scared-looking men, none of whom made any offer to stop him. He had reached the first story and was hesitating what to do next when he saw the young girl approaching him,Moncler outlet online store.
"Oh, M. Delaherche! isn't this dreadful! Here, quick! this way, if you would like to see the Emperor."
On the left of the corridor a door stood ajar, and through the narrow opening a glimpse could be had of the sovereign, who had resumed his weary, anguished tramp between the fireplace and the window. Back and forth he shuffled with heavy, dragging steps, and ceased not, despite his unendurable suffering. An aide-de-camp had just entered the room --it was he who had failed to close the door behind him--and Delaherche heard the Emperor ask him in a sorrowfully reproachful voice:
"What is the reason of this continued firing, sir, after I gave orders to hoist the white flag?"
The torture to him had become greater than he could bear, that never-ceasing cannonade, that seemed to grow more furious with every minute,Moncler Outlet. Every time he approached the window it pierced him to the heart. More spilling of blood, more useless squandering of human life! At every moment the piles of corpses were rising higher on the battlefield, and his was the responsibility,fake uggs for sale. The compassionate instincts that entered so largely into his nature revolted at it, and more than ten times already he had asked that question of those who approached him.
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