come to the ground, nor can the others. The place is full of Specters—a hundred or more surrounding the building, and more drifting up over the grass. Can't you see them,Cheap Foamposites?"
"No! We can't see 'em at all!"
"Already we've lost one witch. We can't risk any more. Can you get down from this building?"
"If we jump off the roof like they done. But how did you find us? And where—"
"Enough now. There's more trouble coming, and bigger. Get down as best you can and then make for the trees."
They climbed over the sill and moved sideways down through the broken tiles to the gutter. It wasn't high, and below it was grass, with a gentle slope away from the building. First Lyra jumped and then Will followed, rolling over and trying to protect his hand, which was bleeding freely again and hurting badly,montblanc pen. His sling had come loose and trailed behind him, and as he tried to roll it up, the snow goose landed on the grass at his side.
"Lyra, who is this?" Kaisa said.
"It's Will. He's coming with us—"
"Why are the Specters avoiding you?" The goose daemon was speaking directly to Will.
By this time Will was hardly surprised by anything, and he said, "I don't know. We can't see them. No, wait!" And he stood up, struck by a thought. "Where are they now?" he said. "Where's the nearest one?"
"Ten paces away, down the slope," said the daemon. "They don't want to come any closer, that's obvious."
Will took out the knife and looked in that direction, and he heard the daemon hiss with surprise.
But Will couldn't do what he intended, because at the same moment a witch landed her branch on the grass beside him. He was taken aback not so much by her flying as by her astounding gracefulness, the fierce, cold,replica chanel bags, lovely clarity of her gaze, and by the pale bare limbs, so youthful, and yet so far from being young.
"Your name is Will?" she said.
"Yes, but—"
"Why are the Specters afraid of you?"
"Because of the knife. Where's the nearest one,cheap jordan shoes? Tell me! I want to kill it!"
But Lyra came running before the witch could answer.
"Serafina
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
鏃跺厜涔嬭疆 The Great Hunt_425
be picking his words carefully. "I search for . . . someone. A man." His eye ran across Perrin, Mat, the Shienarans, dismissing them all. "He Who Comes With the Dawn. It is said there will be great signs and portents of his coming. I saw that you were from Shienar by your escort's armor, and you had the look of a Wise One, so I thought you might have word of great events, the events that might herald him,http://www.australiachanelbags.com/."
"A man?" Verin's voice was soft, but her eyes were as sharp as daggers. "What are these signs?"
Urien shook his head. "It is said we will know them when we hear of them, as we will know him when we see him, for he will be marked. He will come from the west, beyond the Spine of the World, but be of our blood. He will go to Rhuidean, and lead us out of the Three-fold Land." He took a spear in his right hand. Leather and metal creaked as soldiers reached for their swords, and Perrin realized he had taken hold of his axe again, but Verin waved them all to stillness with an irritated look. In the dirt Urien scraped a circle with his spearpoint, then drew across it a sinuous line,montblanc ballpoint pen. "It is said that under this sign, he will conquer."
Ingtar frowned at the symbol, no recognition on his face, but Mat muttered something coarsely under his breath,http://www.nikehighheels.biz/, and Perrin felt his mouth go dry. The ancient symbol of the Aes Sedai.
Verin scraped the marking away with her foot. "I cannot tell you where he is, Urien," she said, "and I have heard of no signs or portents to guide you to him."
"Then I will continue my search." It was not a question, yet Urien waited until she nodded before he eyed the Shienarans proudly, challengingly, then turned his back on them. He walked away smoothly, and vanished into the rocks without looking back.
Some of the soldiers began muttering,best replica rolex watches. Uno said something about "crazy bloody Aiel," and Masema growled that they should have left the Aiel for the ravens.
"We have wasted valuable time," Ingtar announced loudly. "We will ride harder to make it up."
"Yes," Verin said, "we must ride harder."
Ingtar g
"A man?" Verin's voice was soft, but her eyes were as sharp as daggers. "What are these signs?"
Urien shook his head. "It is said we will know them when we hear of them, as we will know him when we see him, for he will be marked. He will come from the west, beyond the Spine of the World, but be of our blood. He will go to Rhuidean, and lead us out of the Three-fold Land." He took a spear in his right hand. Leather and metal creaked as soldiers reached for their swords, and Perrin realized he had taken hold of his axe again, but Verin waved them all to stillness with an irritated look. In the dirt Urien scraped a circle with his spearpoint, then drew across it a sinuous line,montblanc ballpoint pen. "It is said that under this sign, he will conquer."
Ingtar frowned at the symbol, no recognition on his face, but Mat muttered something coarsely under his breath,http://www.nikehighheels.biz/, and Perrin felt his mouth go dry. The ancient symbol of the Aes Sedai.
Verin scraped the marking away with her foot. "I cannot tell you where he is, Urien," she said, "and I have heard of no signs or portents to guide you to him."
"Then I will continue my search." It was not a question, yet Urien waited until she nodded before he eyed the Shienarans proudly, challengingly, then turned his back on them. He walked away smoothly, and vanished into the rocks without looking back.
Some of the soldiers began muttering,best replica rolex watches. Uno said something about "crazy bloody Aiel," and Masema growled that they should have left the Aiel for the ravens.
"We have wasted valuable time," Ingtar announced loudly. "We will ride harder to make it up."
"Yes," Verin said, "we must ride harder."
Ingtar g
绮剧伒瀹濋捇 The Silmarillion_294
adыn acceded to the sceptre, he took again a title in the Elven-tongue as of old, calling himself Tar-Palantir, for he was far-sighted both in eye and in mind, and even those that hated him feared his words as those of a true-seer. He gave peace for a while to the Faithful; and he went once more at due seasons to the Hallow of Eru upon the Meneltarma, which Ar-Gimilzфr had forsaken. The White Tree he tended again with honour; and he prophesied, saying that when the Tree perished, then also would the line of the Kings come to its end. But his repentance was too late to appease the anger of the Valar with the insolence of his fathers, of which the greater part of his people did not repent,nike foamposites. And Gimilkhвd was strong and ungentle, and he took the leadership of those that had been called the King's Men and opposed the will of his brother as openly as he dared,http://www.australiachanelbags.com/, and yet more in secret. Thus the days of Tar-Palantir became darkened with grief; and he would spend much of his time in the west, and there ascended often the ancient tower of King Minastir upon the hill of Oromet nigh to Andъniл, whence he gazed westward in yearning, hoping to see, maybe, some sail upon the sea. But no ship came ever again from the West to Nъmenor, and Avallуnл was veiled in cloud.
Now Gimilkhвd died two years before his two hundredth year (which was accounted an early death for one of Elros' line even in its waning), but this brought no peace to the King. For Pharazфn son of Gimilkhвd had become a man yet more restless and eager for wealth and power than his father. He had fared often abroad, as a leader in the wars that the Nъmenуreans made then in the coastlands of Middle-earth,http://www.rolexsubmarinerreplica.info/, seeking to extend their dominion over Men; and thus he had won great renown as a captain both by land and by sea. Therefore when he came back to Nъmenor,fake rolex watches, hearing of his father's death, the hearts of the people were turned to him; for he brought with him great wealth, and was for the time free in his giving.
And it came to pass that Tar-Palantir grew w
Now Gimilkhвd died two years before his two hundredth year (which was accounted an early death for one of Elros' line even in its waning), but this brought no peace to the King. For Pharazфn son of Gimilkhвd had become a man yet more restless and eager for wealth and power than his father. He had fared often abroad, as a leader in the wars that the Nъmenуreans made then in the coastlands of Middle-earth,http://www.rolexsubmarinerreplica.info/, seeking to extend their dominion over Men; and thus he had won great renown as a captain both by land and by sea. Therefore when he came back to Nъmenor,fake rolex watches, hearing of his father's death, the hearts of the people were turned to him; for he brought with him great wealth, and was for the time free in his giving.
And it came to pass that Tar-Palantir grew w
Monday, December 17, 2012
The captain was a fishy-eyed Norwegian who somehow had fallen into possession of a complete Shakespe
The captain was a fishy-eyed Norwegian who somehow had fallen into possession of a complete Shakespeare, which he never read, and Martin had washed his clothes for him and in return been permitted access to the precious volumes. For a time, so steeped was he in the plays and in the many favorite passages that impressed themselves almost without effort on his brain, that all the world seemed to shape itself into forms of Elizabethan tragedy or comedy and his very thoughts were in blank verse. It trained his ear and gave him a fine appreciation for noble English; withal it introduced into his mind much that was archaic and obsolete.
The eight months had been well spent, and,http://www.rolexsubmarinerreplica.info/, in addition to what he had learned of right speaking and high thinking, he had learned much of himself. Along with his humbleness because he knew so little, there arose a conviction of power. He felt a sharp gradation between himself and his shipmates, and was wise enough to realize that the difference lay in potentiality rather than achievement. What he could do, - they could do; but within him he felt a confused ferment working that told him there was more in him than he had done,cheap adidas shoes for sale. He was tortured by the exquisite beauty of the world, and wished that Ruth were there to share it with him. He decided that he would describe to her many of the bits of South Sea beauty. The creative spirit in him flamed up at the thought and urged that he recreate this beauty for a wider audience than Ruth. And then, in splendor and glory, came the great idea. He would write. He would be one of the eyes through which the world saw, one of the ears through which it heard, one of the hearts through which it felt. He would write - everything - poetry and prose, fiction and description, and plays like Shakespeare. There was career and the way to win to Ruth. The men of literature were the world's giants, and he conceived them to be far finer than the Mr. Butlers who earned thirty thousand a year and could be Supreme Court justices if they wanted to.
Once the idea had germinated, it mastered him, and the return voyage to San Francisco was like a dream. He was drunken with unguessed power and felt that he could do anything. In the midst of the great and lonely sea he gained perspective. Clearly, and for the first lime,foamposite for cheap, he saw Ruth and her world. It was all visualized in his mind as a concrete thing which he could take up in his two hands and turn around and about and examine. There was much that was dim and nebulous in that world, but he saw it as a whole and not in detail, and he saw, also, the way to master it. To write! The thought was fire in him. He would begin as soon as he got back. The first thing he would do would be to describe the voyage of the treasure-hunters. He would sell it to some San Francisco newspaper. He would not tell Ruth anything about it, and she would be surprised and pleased when she saw his name in print. While he wrote, he could go on studying. There were twenty-four hours in each day. He was invincible. He knew how to work, and the citadels would go down before him. He would not have to go to sea again - as a sailor,montblanc pen; and for the instant he caught a vision of a steam yacht. There were other writers who possessed steam yachts. Of course, he cautioned himself, it would be slow succeeding at first, and for a time he would be content to earn enough money by his writing to enable him to go on studying. And then, after some time, - a very indeterminate time, - when he had learned and prepared himself, he would write the great things and his name would be on all men's lips. But greater than that, infinitely greater and greatest of all, he would have proved himself worthy of Ruth. Fame was all very well, but it was for Ruth that his splendid dream arose. He was not a fame-monger, but merely one of God's mad lovers.
The eight months had been well spent, and,http://www.rolexsubmarinerreplica.info/, in addition to what he had learned of right speaking and high thinking, he had learned much of himself. Along with his humbleness because he knew so little, there arose a conviction of power. He felt a sharp gradation between himself and his shipmates, and was wise enough to realize that the difference lay in potentiality rather than achievement. What he could do, - they could do; but within him he felt a confused ferment working that told him there was more in him than he had done,cheap adidas shoes for sale. He was tortured by the exquisite beauty of the world, and wished that Ruth were there to share it with him. He decided that he would describe to her many of the bits of South Sea beauty. The creative spirit in him flamed up at the thought and urged that he recreate this beauty for a wider audience than Ruth. And then, in splendor and glory, came the great idea. He would write. He would be one of the eyes through which the world saw, one of the ears through which it heard, one of the hearts through which it felt. He would write - everything - poetry and prose, fiction and description, and plays like Shakespeare. There was career and the way to win to Ruth. The men of literature were the world's giants, and he conceived them to be far finer than the Mr. Butlers who earned thirty thousand a year and could be Supreme Court justices if they wanted to.
Once the idea had germinated, it mastered him, and the return voyage to San Francisco was like a dream. He was drunken with unguessed power and felt that he could do anything. In the midst of the great and lonely sea he gained perspective. Clearly, and for the first lime,foamposite for cheap, he saw Ruth and her world. It was all visualized in his mind as a concrete thing which he could take up in his two hands and turn around and about and examine. There was much that was dim and nebulous in that world, but he saw it as a whole and not in detail, and he saw, also, the way to master it. To write! The thought was fire in him. He would begin as soon as he got back. The first thing he would do would be to describe the voyage of the treasure-hunters. He would sell it to some San Francisco newspaper. He would not tell Ruth anything about it, and she would be surprised and pleased when she saw his name in print. While he wrote, he could go on studying. There were twenty-four hours in each day. He was invincible. He knew how to work, and the citadels would go down before him. He would not have to go to sea again - as a sailor,montblanc pen; and for the instant he caught a vision of a steam yacht. There were other writers who possessed steam yachts. Of course, he cautioned himself, it would be slow succeeding at first, and for a time he would be content to earn enough money by his writing to enable him to go on studying. And then, after some time, - a very indeterminate time, - when he had learned and prepared himself, he would write the great things and his name would be on all men's lips. But greater than that, infinitely greater and greatest of all, he would have proved himself worthy of Ruth. Fame was all very well, but it was for Ruth that his splendid dream arose. He was not a fame-monger, but merely one of God's mad lovers.
使露丝吃惊的正是他这类独特的见解
使露丝吃惊的正是他这类独特的见解。它们对她不但新颖，跟她的信念抵触，而且总让她发现含有真理的种子，有可能推翻或改变她自己的信仰。她老是十四岁而不是二十四岁便会因之而改变信念，但是她已经二十四岁，由于天性和教养，她的性格保守，早已在她所出生和成长的角落里定了形。不错，他的奇谈怪论刚出现时曾叫她迷惑，但她认为那是由于他的奇特类型和奇特生活所致，立即把它忘掉了。尽管如此，他发出这些论调时所表现的力量，眼里所闪出的光＃和面都表情的认真仍然叫她悸动心跳，吸引着她，尽管她并不赞成，她不可能猜到这个来自她的视野以外的人此刻正在怀着更广阔深沉的思想飞速前进。露丝的局限性是她的视野的局限性，而受到局限的心灵不通过别人是意识不到的。因此她感到自己的视野已经很广阔，他跟她看法矛盾之处只标志着他的局限性。她梦想着帮助地使他像她一样看问题，扩大他的眼界，直到跟她的看法一致。
“不过，我的故事还没有完，”她说，“父亲说他比他办公室组的任何跑街的工作得都好。巴特勒先生工作总是很努力，从不迟到，总是提前几分钟到办公室。而且还能挤出时间来。他把一切空闲时间都用于学习。学簿记，学打字，晚上为一个需要训练的法庭记者做听写练习，赚了钱学速记。他很快便被提升为职员，让自己变成了无价之宝。爸爸很欣赏他，认定他有远大的前程。他听从了我爸爸的建议，上了法律学院，成了律师,rolex submariner replica。他再回到办公室时爸爸就让他做了他的年青搭档。他是个了不起的人，多次拒绝做美国参议员,chanel。爸爸说只要他愿意，一旦出缺他就可能做最高法院的法官。这样的一生对我们是一种鼓舞。它说明一个意志坚强的人是可以摆脱环境的限制成长起来的。”
“他是个了不起的人，”马丁由衷地赞美道。
但是他似乎觉得这故事里有些限他对美和人生的感觉抵触的东西。他认为巴特勒先生那种积攒困苦的生活动机未必恰当。如若是为了爱一个女人，或是为了追求美，马丁能理解。上帝的疯狂的情人为了一个吻是什么都可以干的。但是为了一年三万元却不值得。他对巴特勒先生的事业不满意，总觉得其中有些东西不足为训。三万元一年固然好，但是因此得了消化不良，连像人一样快活一下也不会，这样的巨大收入全无价值可言。
他努力向露丝阐述了这种想法，露丝吓了一跳，认为还需要继续对他重新塑造。她的心灵是常见的那种编狭心灵。这种心灵使人相信自己的肤色、信条和政治是最好的，最正确的，而分居世界各他的其他的人则不如他们幸运。正是同样的偏狭心理使古代的犹太人因为自己未曾生为女人而感谢上帝；使现代的教士到天涯海角去做上帝的代有人；使露丝要求把这个从生活另一角落来的人物接她自己那特定的生活角落里的人的样子加以塑造。
Chapter 9
Back from sea Martin Eden came,replica rolex watches, homing for California with a lover's desire. His store of money exhausted, he had shipped before the mast on the treasure-hunting schooner; and the Solomon Islands, after eight months of failure to find treasure, had witnessed the breaking up of the expedition. The men had been paid off in Australia, and Martin had immediately shipped on a deep- water vessel for San Francisco. Not alone had those eight months earned him enough money to stay on land for many weeks, but they had enabled him to do a great deal of studying and reading,cheap foamposites.
His was the student's mind, and behind his ability to learn was the indomitability of his nature and his love for Ruth. The grammar he had taken along he went through again and again until his unjaded brain had mastered it. He noticed the bad grammar used by his shipmates, and made a point of mentally correcting and reconstructing their crudities of speech. To his great joy he discovered that his ear was becoming sensitive and that he was developing grammatical nerves. A double negative jarred him like a discord, and often, from lack of practice, it was from his own lips that the jar came. His tongue refused to learn new tricks in a day.
After he had been through the grammar repeatedly, he took up the dictionary and added twenty words a day to his vocabulary. He found that this was no light task, and at wheel or lookout he steadily went over and over his lengthening list of pronunciations and definitions, while he invariably memorized himself to sleep. "Never did anything," "if I were," and "those things," were phrases, with many variations, that he repeated under his breath in order to accustom his tongue to the language spoken by Ruth. "And" and "ing," with the "d" and "g" pronounced emphatically, he went over thousands of times; and to his surprise he noticed that he was beginning to speak cleaner and more correct English than the officers themselves and the gentleman-adventurers in the cabin who had financed the expedition.
“不过，我的故事还没有完，”她说，“父亲说他比他办公室组的任何跑街的工作得都好。巴特勒先生工作总是很努力，从不迟到，总是提前几分钟到办公室。而且还能挤出时间来。他把一切空闲时间都用于学习。学簿记，学打字，晚上为一个需要训练的法庭记者做听写练习，赚了钱学速记。他很快便被提升为职员，让自己变成了无价之宝。爸爸很欣赏他，认定他有远大的前程。他听从了我爸爸的建议，上了法律学院，成了律师,rolex submariner replica。他再回到办公室时爸爸就让他做了他的年青搭档。他是个了不起的人，多次拒绝做美国参议员,chanel。爸爸说只要他愿意，一旦出缺他就可能做最高法院的法官。这样的一生对我们是一种鼓舞。它说明一个意志坚强的人是可以摆脱环境的限制成长起来的。”
“他是个了不起的人，”马丁由衷地赞美道。
但是他似乎觉得这故事里有些限他对美和人生的感觉抵触的东西。他认为巴特勒先生那种积攒困苦的生活动机未必恰当。如若是为了爱一个女人，或是为了追求美，马丁能理解。上帝的疯狂的情人为了一个吻是什么都可以干的。但是为了一年三万元却不值得。他对巴特勒先生的事业不满意，总觉得其中有些东西不足为训。三万元一年固然好，但是因此得了消化不良，连像人一样快活一下也不会，这样的巨大收入全无价值可言。
他努力向露丝阐述了这种想法，露丝吓了一跳，认为还需要继续对他重新塑造。她的心灵是常见的那种编狭心灵。这种心灵使人相信自己的肤色、信条和政治是最好的，最正确的，而分居世界各他的其他的人则不如他们幸运。正是同样的偏狭心理使古代的犹太人因为自己未曾生为女人而感谢上帝；使现代的教士到天涯海角去做上帝的代有人；使露丝要求把这个从生活另一角落来的人物接她自己那特定的生活角落里的人的样子加以塑造。
Chapter 9
Back from sea Martin Eden came,replica rolex watches, homing for California with a lover's desire. His store of money exhausted, he had shipped before the mast on the treasure-hunting schooner; and the Solomon Islands, after eight months of failure to find treasure, had witnessed the breaking up of the expedition. The men had been paid off in Australia, and Martin had immediately shipped on a deep- water vessel for San Francisco. Not alone had those eight months earned him enough money to stay on land for many weeks, but they had enabled him to do a great deal of studying and reading,cheap foamposites.
His was the student's mind, and behind his ability to learn was the indomitability of his nature and his love for Ruth. The grammar he had taken along he went through again and again until his unjaded brain had mastered it. He noticed the bad grammar used by his shipmates, and made a point of mentally correcting and reconstructing their crudities of speech. To his great joy he discovered that his ear was becoming sensitive and that he was developing grammatical nerves. A double negative jarred him like a discord, and often, from lack of practice, it was from his own lips that the jar came. His tongue refused to learn new tricks in a day.
After he had been through the grammar repeatedly, he took up the dictionary and added twenty words a day to his vocabulary. He found that this was no light task, and at wheel or lookout he steadily went over and over his lengthening list of pronunciations and definitions, while he invariably memorized himself to sleep. "Never did anything," "if I were," and "those things," were phrases, with many variations, that he repeated under his breath in order to accustom his tongue to the language spoken by Ruth. "And" and "ing," with the "d" and "g" pronounced emphatically, he went over thousands of times; and to his surprise he noticed that he was beginning to speak cleaner and more correct English than the officers themselves and the gentleman-adventurers in the cabin who had financed the expedition.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
I kept turning over my profit
I kept turning over my profit, increasing my supplies, and I sold reefers like a wild man. I scarcelyslept; I was wherever musicians congregated. A roll of money was in my pocket. Every day, I clearedat least fifty or sixty dollars. In those days (or for that matter these days), this was a fortune to aseventeen-year-old Negro. I felt, for the first time in my life, that great feeling of _free_! Suddenly,now, I was the peer of the other young hustlers I had admired.
It was at this time that I discovered the movies. Sometimes I made as many as five in one day, bothdowntown and in Harlem. I loved the tough guys, the action, Humphrey Bogart in "Casablanca," and Iloved all of that dancing and carrying on in such films as "Stormy Weather" and "Cabin in the Sky."After leaving the movies, I'd make my connections for supplies, then roll my sticks, and, about dark,I'd start my rounds. I'd give a couple of extra sticks when someone bought ten, which was five dollars'
worth. And I didn't sell and run, because my customers were my friends. Often I'd smoke along withthem. None of them stayed any more high than I did.
Free now to do what I pleased, upon an impulse I went to Boston. Of course, I saw Ella. I gave hersome money: it was just a token of appreciation, I told her, for helping me when I had come fromLansing. She wasn't the same old Ella; she still hadn't forgiven me for Laura. She never mentioned her,nor did I. But, even so, Ella acted better than she had when I had left for New York. We reviewed thefamily changes. Wilfred had proved so good at his trade they had asked him to stay on at Wilberforceas an instructor. And Ella had gotten a card from Reginald who had managed to get into the merchantmarine.
From Shorty's apartment, I called Sophia. She met me at the apartment just about as Shorty went off to work. I would have liked to take her out to some of the Roxbury clubs, but Shorty had told us that, asin New York, the Boston cops used the war as an excuse to harass interracial couples, stopping themand grilling the Negro about his draft status. Of course Sophia's now being married made us morecautious, too.
When Sophia caught a cab home, I went to hear Shorty's band. Yes, he had a band now. He hadsucceeded in getting a 4-F classification, and I was pleased for him and happy to go. His band was-well, fair. But Shorty was making out well in Boston, playing in small clubs. Back in the apartment, wetalked into the next day. "Homeboy, you're something else!" Shorty kept saying. I told him some of thewild things I'd done in Harlem, and about the friends I had. I told him the story of Sammy the Pimp.
In Sammy's native Paducah, Kentucky, he had gotten a girl pregnant. Her parents made it so hot thatSammy had come to Harlem, where he got a job as a restaurant waiter. When a woman came in to eatalone, and he found she really was alone, not married, or living with somebody, it generally was nothard for smooth Sammy to get invited to her apartment. He'd insist on going out to a nearbyrestaurant to bring back some dinner, and while he was out he would have her key duplicated. Then,when he knew she was away, Sammy would go in and clean out all her valuables. Sammy was thenable to offer some little stake, to help her back on her feet. This could be the beginning of an emotionaland financial dependency, which Sammy knew how to develop until she was his virtual slave.
It was at this time that I discovered the movies. Sometimes I made as many as five in one day, bothdowntown and in Harlem. I loved the tough guys, the action, Humphrey Bogart in "Casablanca," and Iloved all of that dancing and carrying on in such films as "Stormy Weather" and "Cabin in the Sky."After leaving the movies, I'd make my connections for supplies, then roll my sticks, and, about dark,I'd start my rounds. I'd give a couple of extra sticks when someone bought ten, which was five dollars'
worth. And I didn't sell and run, because my customers were my friends. Often I'd smoke along withthem. None of them stayed any more high than I did.
Free now to do what I pleased, upon an impulse I went to Boston. Of course, I saw Ella. I gave hersome money: it was just a token of appreciation, I told her, for helping me when I had come fromLansing. She wasn't the same old Ella; she still hadn't forgiven me for Laura. She never mentioned her,nor did I. But, even so, Ella acted better than she had when I had left for New York. We reviewed thefamily changes. Wilfred had proved so good at his trade they had asked him to stay on at Wilberforceas an instructor. And Ella had gotten a card from Reginald who had managed to get into the merchantmarine.
From Shorty's apartment, I called Sophia. She met me at the apartment just about as Shorty went off to work. I would have liked to take her out to some of the Roxbury clubs, but Shorty had told us that, asin New York, the Boston cops used the war as an excuse to harass interracial couples, stopping themand grilling the Negro about his draft status. Of course Sophia's now being married made us morecautious, too.
When Sophia caught a cab home, I went to hear Shorty's band. Yes, he had a band now. He hadsucceeded in getting a 4-F classification, and I was pleased for him and happy to go. His band was-well, fair. But Shorty was making out well in Boston, playing in small clubs. Back in the apartment, wetalked into the next day. "Homeboy, you're something else!" Shorty kept saying. I told him some of thewild things I'd done in Harlem, and about the friends I had. I told him the story of Sammy the Pimp.
In Sammy's native Paducah, Kentucky, he had gotten a girl pregnant. Her parents made it so hot thatSammy had come to Harlem, where he got a job as a restaurant waiter. When a woman came in to eatalone, and he found she really was alone, not married, or living with somebody, it generally was nothard for smooth Sammy to get invited to her apartment. He'd insist on going out to a nearbyrestaurant to bring back some dinner, and while he was out he would have her key duplicated. Then,when he knew she was away, Sammy would go in and clean out all her valuables. Sammy was thenable to offer some little stake, to help her back on her feet. This could be the beginning of an emotionaland financial dependency, which Sammy knew how to develop until she was his virtual slave.
When I seemed to have been dozing a long while
When I seemed to have been dozing a long while, the Master at Salem House unscrewed his flute into the three pieces, put them up as before, and took me away. We found the coach very near at hand, and got upon the roof; but I was so dead sleepy, that when we stopped on the road to take up somebody else, they put me inside where there were no passengers, and where I slept profoundly, until I found the coach going at a footpace up a steep hill among green leaves. Presently, it stopped, and had come to its destination.
A short walk brought us - I mean the Master and me - to Salem House, which was enclosed with a high brick wall, and looked very dull. Over a door in this wall was a board with SALEM HousE upon it; and through a grating in this door we were surveyed when we rang the bell by a surly face, which I found, on the door being opened, belonged to a stout man with a bull-neck, a wooden leg, overhanging temples, and his hair cut close all round his head.
'The new boy,' said the Master.
The man with the wooden leg eyed me all over - it didn't take long, for there was not much of me - and locked the gate behind us, and took out the key. We were going up to the house, among some dark heavy trees, when he called after my conductor. 'Hallo!'
We looked back, and he was standing at the door of a little lodge, where he lived, with a pair of boots in his hand.
'Here! The cobbler's been,' he said, 'since you've been out, Mr. Mell, and he says he can't mend 'em any more. He says there ain't a bit of the original boot left, and he wonders you expect it.'
With these words he threw the boots towards Mr. Mell, who went back a few paces to pick them up, and looked at them (very disconsolately, I was afraid), as we went on together. I observed then, for the first time, that the boots he had on were a good deal the worse for wear, and that his stocking was just breaking out in one place, like a bud.
Salem House was a square brick building with wings; of a bare and unfurnished appearance. All about it was so very quiet, that I said to Mr. Mell I supposed the boys were out; but he seemed surprised at my not knowing that it was holiday-time. That all the boys were at their several homes. That Mr. Creakle, the proprietor, was down by the sea-side with Mrs. and Miss Creakle; and that I was sent in holiday-time as a punishment for my misdoing, all of which he explained to me as we went along.
I gazed upon the schoolroom into which he took me, as the most forlorn and desolate place I had ever seen. I see it now. A long room with three long rows of desks, and six of forms, and bristling all round with pegs for hats and slates. Scraps of old copy-books and exercises litter the dirty floor. Some silkworms' houses, made of the same materials, are scattered over the desks. Two miserable little white mice, left behind by their owner, are running up and down in a fusty castle made of pasteboard and wire, looking in all the corners with their red eyes for anything to eat. A bird, in a cage very little bigger than himself, makes a mournful rattle now and then in hopping on his perch, two inches high, or dropping from it; but neither sings nor chirps. There is a strange unwholesome smell upon the room, like mildewed corduroys, sweet apples wanting air, and rotten books. There could not well be more ink splashed about it, if it had been roofless from its first construction, and the skies had rained, snowed, hailed, and blown ink through the varying seasons of the year.
A short walk brought us - I mean the Master and me - to Salem House, which was enclosed with a high brick wall, and looked very dull. Over a door in this wall was a board with SALEM HousE upon it; and through a grating in this door we were surveyed when we rang the bell by a surly face, which I found, on the door being opened, belonged to a stout man with a bull-neck, a wooden leg, overhanging temples, and his hair cut close all round his head.
'The new boy,' said the Master.
The man with the wooden leg eyed me all over - it didn't take long, for there was not much of me - and locked the gate behind us, and took out the key. We were going up to the house, among some dark heavy trees, when he called after my conductor. 'Hallo!'
We looked back, and he was standing at the door of a little lodge, where he lived, with a pair of boots in his hand.
'Here! The cobbler's been,' he said, 'since you've been out, Mr. Mell, and he says he can't mend 'em any more. He says there ain't a bit of the original boot left, and he wonders you expect it.'
With these words he threw the boots towards Mr. Mell, who went back a few paces to pick them up, and looked at them (very disconsolately, I was afraid), as we went on together. I observed then, for the first time, that the boots he had on were a good deal the worse for wear, and that his stocking was just breaking out in one place, like a bud.
Salem House was a square brick building with wings; of a bare and unfurnished appearance. All about it was so very quiet, that I said to Mr. Mell I supposed the boys were out; but he seemed surprised at my not knowing that it was holiday-time. That all the boys were at their several homes. That Mr. Creakle, the proprietor, was down by the sea-side with Mrs. and Miss Creakle; and that I was sent in holiday-time as a punishment for my misdoing, all of which he explained to me as we went along.
I gazed upon the schoolroom into which he took me, as the most forlorn and desolate place I had ever seen. I see it now. A long room with three long rows of desks, and six of forms, and bristling all round with pegs for hats and slates. Scraps of old copy-books and exercises litter the dirty floor. Some silkworms' houses, made of the same materials, are scattered over the desks. Two miserable little white mice, left behind by their owner, are running up and down in a fusty castle made of pasteboard and wire, looking in all the corners with their red eyes for anything to eat. A bird, in a cage very little bigger than himself, makes a mournful rattle now and then in hopping on his perch, two inches high, or dropping from it; but neither sings nor chirps. There is a strange unwholesome smell upon the room, like mildewed corduroys, sweet apples wanting air, and rotten books. There could not well be more ink splashed about it, if it had been roofless from its first construction, and the skies had rained, snowed, hailed, and blown ink through the varying seasons of the year.
Saturday, December 8, 2012
The room was a pleasant one
The room was a pleasant one, at the top of the house, overlooking the sea, on which the moon was shining brilliantly. After I had said my prayers, and the candle had burnt out, I remember how I still sat looking at the moonlight on the water, as if I could hope to read my fortune in it, as in a bright book; or to see my mother with her child, coming from Heaven, along that shining path, to look upon me as she had looked when I last saw her sweet face. I remember how the solemn feeling with which at length I turned my eyes away, yielded to the sensation of gratitude and rest which the sight of the white-curtained bed - and how much more the lying softly down upon it, nestling in the snow-white sheets,Discount North Face Down Jackets! - inspired. I remember how I thought of all the solitary places under the night sky where I had slept, and how I prayed that I never might be houseless any more, and never might forget the houseless. I remember how I seemed to float, then, down the melancholy glory of that track upon the sea, away into the world of dreams.
Chapter 14
On going down in the morning, I found my aunt musing so profoundly over the breakfast table, with her elbow on the tray,North Face Outlet, that the contents of the urn had overflowed the teapot and were laying the whole table-cloth under water, when my entrance put her meditations to flight. I felt sure that I had been the subject of her reflections, and was more than ever anxious to know her intentions towards me. Yet I dared not express my anxiety, lest it should give her offence.
My eyes, however, not being so much under control as my tongue, were attracted towards my aunt very often during breakfast. I never could look at her for a few moments together but I found her looking at me - in an odd thoughtful manner, as if I were an immense way off, instead of being on the other side of the small round table. When she had finished her breakfast, my aunt very deliberately leaned back in her chair, knitted her brows, folded her arms, and contemplated me at her leisure, with such a fixedness of attention that I was quite overpowered by embarrassment. Not having as yet finished my own breakfast, I attempted to hide my confusion by proceeding with it; but my knife tumbled over my fork, my fork tripped up my knife, I chipped bits of bacon a surprising height into the air instead of cutting them for my own eating, and choked myself with my tea, which persisted in going the wrong way instead of the right one, until I gave in altogether, and sat blushing under my aunt's close scrutiny.
'Hallo!' said my aunt, after a long time.
I looked up, and met her sharp bright glance respectfully.
'I have written to him,' said my aunt.
'To -?'
'To your father-in-law,' said my aunt,Contact Us. 'I have sent him a letter that I'll trouble him to attend to, or he and I will fall out, I can tell him!'
'Does he know where I am, aunt?' I inquired, alarmed.
'I have told him,' said my aunt,fake foamposites, with a nod.
'Shall I - be - given up to him?' I faltered.
'I don't know,' said my aunt. 'We shall see.'
'Oh! I can't think what I shall do,' I exclaimed, 'if I have to go back to Mr. Murdstone!'
Chapter 14
On going down in the morning, I found my aunt musing so profoundly over the breakfast table, with her elbow on the tray,North Face Outlet, that the contents of the urn had overflowed the teapot and were laying the whole table-cloth under water, when my entrance put her meditations to flight. I felt sure that I had been the subject of her reflections, and was more than ever anxious to know her intentions towards me. Yet I dared not express my anxiety, lest it should give her offence.
My eyes, however, not being so much under control as my tongue, were attracted towards my aunt very often during breakfast. I never could look at her for a few moments together but I found her looking at me - in an odd thoughtful manner, as if I were an immense way off, instead of being on the other side of the small round table. When she had finished her breakfast, my aunt very deliberately leaned back in her chair, knitted her brows, folded her arms, and contemplated me at her leisure, with such a fixedness of attention that I was quite overpowered by embarrassment. Not having as yet finished my own breakfast, I attempted to hide my confusion by proceeding with it; but my knife tumbled over my fork, my fork tripped up my knife, I chipped bits of bacon a surprising height into the air instead of cutting them for my own eating, and choked myself with my tea, which persisted in going the wrong way instead of the right one, until I gave in altogether, and sat blushing under my aunt's close scrutiny.
'Hallo!' said my aunt, after a long time.
I looked up, and met her sharp bright glance respectfully.
'I have written to him,' said my aunt.
'To -?'
'To your father-in-law,' said my aunt,Contact Us. 'I have sent him a letter that I'll trouble him to attend to, or he and I will fall out, I can tell him!'
'Does he know where I am, aunt?' I inquired, alarmed.
'I have told him,' said my aunt,fake foamposites, with a nod.
'Shall I - be - given up to him?' I faltered.
'I don't know,' said my aunt. 'We shall see.'
'Oh! I can't think what I shall do,' I exclaimed, 'if I have to go back to Mr. Murdstone!'
Before long
Before long, I didn't see how I was going to be able to stick it out there eight hours a day; and I nearlydidn't. I remember one night, I nearly quit because I had hit the numbers for ten cents-the first time Ihad ever hit-on one of the sideline bets that I'd made in the drugstore. (Yes, there were several runnerson the Hill; even dignified Negroes played the numbers.) I won sixty dollars, and Shorty and I had aball with it. I wished I had hit for the daily dollar that I played with my town man, paying him by theweek. I would surely have quit the drugstore. I could have bought a car.
Anyway, Laura lived in a house that was catercorner across the street from the drugstore. After awhile, as soon as I saw her coming in, I'd start making up a banana split. She was a real bug for them,and she came in late every afternoon-after school. I imagine I'd been shoving that ice cream dish underher nose for five or six weeks before somehow it began to sink in that she wasn't like the rest. She wascertainly the only Hill girl that came in there and acted in any way friendly and natural.
She always had some book with her,fake uggs boots, and poring over it, she would make a thirty-minute job of thatdaily dish of banana split. I began to notice the books she read, They were pretty heavy school stuff-Latin, algebra, things like that. Watching her made me reflect that I hadn't read even a newspapersince leaving Mason.
_Laura_. I heard her name called by a few of the others who came in when she was there,Link. But I couldsee they didn't know her too well; they said "hello"-that was about the extent of it. She kept to herself,and she never said more than "Thank you"' to me. Nice voice. Soft. Quiet. Never another word. But noairs like the others, no black Bostonese. She was just herself.
I liked that. Before too long, I struck up a conversation. Just what subject I got off on I don't remember,but she readily opened up and began talking, and she was very friendly. I found out that she was ahigh school junior, an honor student,Discount North Face Down Jackets. Her parents had split up when she was a baby, and she had beenraised by her grandmother, an old lady on a pension, who was very strict and old-fashioned andreligious, Laura had just one close friend, a girl who lived over in Cambridge, whom she had gone toschool with. They talked on the telephone every day. Her grandmother scarcely ever let her go to themovies, let alone on dates.
But Laura really liked school. She said she wanted to go on to college. She was keen for algebra, andshe planned to major in science. Laura never would have dreamed that she was a year older than Iwas. I gauged that indirectly. She looked up to me as though she felt I had a world of experience morethan she did-which really was the truth. But sometimes, when she had gone, I felt let down, thinkinghow I had turned away from the books I used to like when I was back in Michigan.
I got to the point where I looked forward to her coming in every day after school. I stopped letting herpay, and gave her extra ice cream,UGG BOOTS SALE. And she wasn't hiding the fact that she liked me.
Anyway, Laura lived in a house that was catercorner across the street from the drugstore. After awhile, as soon as I saw her coming in, I'd start making up a banana split. She was a real bug for them,and she came in late every afternoon-after school. I imagine I'd been shoving that ice cream dish underher nose for five or six weeks before somehow it began to sink in that she wasn't like the rest. She wascertainly the only Hill girl that came in there and acted in any way friendly and natural.
She always had some book with her,fake uggs boots, and poring over it, she would make a thirty-minute job of thatdaily dish of banana split. I began to notice the books she read, They were pretty heavy school stuff-Latin, algebra, things like that. Watching her made me reflect that I hadn't read even a newspapersince leaving Mason.
_Laura_. I heard her name called by a few of the others who came in when she was there,Link. But I couldsee they didn't know her too well; they said "hello"-that was about the extent of it. She kept to herself,and she never said more than "Thank you"' to me. Nice voice. Soft. Quiet. Never another word. But noairs like the others, no black Bostonese. She was just herself.
I liked that. Before too long, I struck up a conversation. Just what subject I got off on I don't remember,but she readily opened up and began talking, and she was very friendly. I found out that she was ahigh school junior, an honor student,Discount North Face Down Jackets. Her parents had split up when she was a baby, and she had beenraised by her grandmother, an old lady on a pension, who was very strict and old-fashioned andreligious, Laura had just one close friend, a girl who lived over in Cambridge, whom she had gone toschool with. They talked on the telephone every day. Her grandmother scarcely ever let her go to themovies, let alone on dates.
But Laura really liked school. She said she wanted to go on to college. She was keen for algebra, andshe planned to major in science. Laura never would have dreamed that she was a year older than Iwas. I gauged that indirectly. She looked up to me as though she felt I had a world of experience morethan she did-which really was the truth. But sometimes, when she had gone, I felt let down, thinkinghow I had turned away from the books I used to like when I was back in Michigan.
I got to the point where I looked forward to her coming in every day after school. I stopped letting herpay, and gave her extra ice cream,UGG BOOTS SALE. And she wasn't hiding the fact that she liked me.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
We control the settlement
We control the settlement. You are not competing with those people.”
Her answer seemed good enough.
Wes took over with cautionary words. Because of the verdict, the pressure on Krane Chemical was greater than ever. They probably had investigators in the area, watching the plaintiffs, trying to gather information that might be damaging. Be careful who you talk to. Be wary of strangers. Report anything even remotely unusual.
For a long-suffering people, this was not welcome news. They had enough to worry about.
The questions continued and went on for over an hour. The Paytons worked hard to reassure, to show compassion and confidence, to give hope. But the tougher challenge was keeping a lid on expectations.
If anyone in the room was concerned about a supreme court race, it was never mentioned.
Chapter 20
When he stepped forward and gazed at the large congregation on Sunday morning, Ron Fisk had no idea how many pulpits he would visit over the next six months. Nor did he realize that the pulpit would become a symbol of his campaign,fake uggs boots.
He thanked his minister for the opportunity, then thanked his congregation, his fellow members of St. Luke's Baptist Church, for their indulgence. "Tomorrow, down the street at the Lincoln County Courthouse, I will announce my candidacy for the Mississippi Supreme Court. Doreen and I have been struggling with and praying about this for several months now. We have counseled with Pastor Rose. We have discussed it with our children, our families, and our friends. And we are finally at peace with our decision and want to share it with you before the announcement tomorrow.”
He glanced at his notes, looked a little nervous, then continued.
"I have no background in politics. Frankly, I've never had the stomach for it. Doreen and I have established a happy life here in Brookhaven, raising our kids, worshipping here with you, taking part in our community.
We are blessed, and we thank God every day for his goodness. We thank God for this church and for friends like you. You are our family.”
Another nervous pause,SHIPPING INFO..
"I seek to serve on the supreme court because I cherish the values that we share.
Values based on the Bible and our faith in Christ. The sanctity of the family-man and woman. The sanctity of life. The freedom to enjoy life without fear of crime and government intervention. Like you, I am frustrated by the erosion of our values.
They are under attack by our society, by our depraved culture,fake jordans, and by many of our politicians. Yes, also by our courts. I offer my candidacy as one man's fight against liberal judges. With your help, I can win,cheap north face down jackets. Thank you.”
Mercifully brief-another long-winded sermon was surely coming next-Ron's words were so well received that a polite round of applause rippled through the sanctuary as he returned to his seat and sat with his family.
Two hours later, while the white churchgoers in Brookhaven were having lunch and the black ones were just getting cranked up, Ron bounded up red-carpeted steps to the massive podium of the Mount Pisgah Church of God in Christ on the west side of town and delivered a lengthier version of the morning's comments. (He omitted the word "liberal.") Until two days earlier, he had never met the reverend of the town's largest black congregation. A friend pulled some strings and manipulated an invitation.
Her answer seemed good enough.
Wes took over with cautionary words. Because of the verdict, the pressure on Krane Chemical was greater than ever. They probably had investigators in the area, watching the plaintiffs, trying to gather information that might be damaging. Be careful who you talk to. Be wary of strangers. Report anything even remotely unusual.
For a long-suffering people, this was not welcome news. They had enough to worry about.
The questions continued and went on for over an hour. The Paytons worked hard to reassure, to show compassion and confidence, to give hope. But the tougher challenge was keeping a lid on expectations.
If anyone in the room was concerned about a supreme court race, it was never mentioned.
Chapter 20
When he stepped forward and gazed at the large congregation on Sunday morning, Ron Fisk had no idea how many pulpits he would visit over the next six months. Nor did he realize that the pulpit would become a symbol of his campaign,fake uggs boots.
He thanked his minister for the opportunity, then thanked his congregation, his fellow members of St. Luke's Baptist Church, for their indulgence. "Tomorrow, down the street at the Lincoln County Courthouse, I will announce my candidacy for the Mississippi Supreme Court. Doreen and I have been struggling with and praying about this for several months now. We have counseled with Pastor Rose. We have discussed it with our children, our families, and our friends. And we are finally at peace with our decision and want to share it with you before the announcement tomorrow.”
He glanced at his notes, looked a little nervous, then continued.
"I have no background in politics. Frankly, I've never had the stomach for it. Doreen and I have established a happy life here in Brookhaven, raising our kids, worshipping here with you, taking part in our community.
We are blessed, and we thank God every day for his goodness. We thank God for this church and for friends like you. You are our family.”
Another nervous pause,SHIPPING INFO..
"I seek to serve on the supreme court because I cherish the values that we share.
Values based on the Bible and our faith in Christ. The sanctity of the family-man and woman. The sanctity of life. The freedom to enjoy life without fear of crime and government intervention. Like you, I am frustrated by the erosion of our values.
They are under attack by our society, by our depraved culture,fake jordans, and by many of our politicians. Yes, also by our courts. I offer my candidacy as one man's fight against liberal judges. With your help, I can win,cheap north face down jackets. Thank you.”
Mercifully brief-another long-winded sermon was surely coming next-Ron's words were so well received that a polite round of applause rippled through the sanctuary as he returned to his seat and sat with his family.
Two hours later, while the white churchgoers in Brookhaven were having lunch and the black ones were just getting cranked up, Ron bounded up red-carpeted steps to the massive podium of the Mount Pisgah Church of God in Christ on the west side of town and delivered a lengthier version of the morning's comments. (He omitted the word "liberal.") Until two days earlier, he had never met the reverend of the town's largest black congregation. A friend pulled some strings and manipulated an invitation.
In respect of Heart's Delight
In respect of Heart's Delight, the Captain's parental and admiration knew no change. But since his last interview with Mr Carker, Captain Cuttle had come to entertain doubts whether his former intervention in behalf of that young lady and his dear boy Wal'r, had proved altogether so favourable as he could have wished, and as he at the time believed. The Captain was troubled with a serious misgiving that he had done more harm than good, in short; and in his remorse and modesty he made the best atonement he could think of, by putting himself out of the way of doing any harm to anyone, and, as it were, throwing himself overboard for a dangerous person.
Self-buried, therefore, among the instruments, the Captain never went near Mr Dombey's house, or reported himself in any way to Florence or Miss Nipper. He even severed himself from Mr Perch, on the occasion of his next visit,cheap north face down jackets, by dryly informing that gentleman, that he thanked him for his company, but had cut himself adrift from all such acquaintance, as he didn't know what magazine he mightn't blow up, without meaning of it. In this self-imposed retirement, the Captain passed whole days and weeks without interchanging a word with anyone but Rob the Grinder, whom he esteemed as a pattern of disinterested attachment and fidelity. In this retirement, the Captain, gazing at the packet of an evening, would sit smoking, and thinking of Florence and poor Walter, until they both seemed to his homely fancy to be dead, and to have passed away into eternal youth, the beautiful and innocent children of his first remembrance.
The Captain did not, however, in his musings, neglect his own improvement, or the mental culture of Rob the Grinder. That young man was generally required to read out of some book to the Captain, for one hour, every evening; and as the Captain implicitly believed that all books were true,Discount North Face Down Jackets, he accumulated, by this means, many remarkable facts. On Sunday nights, the Captain always read for himself, before going to bed, a certain Divine Sermon once delivered on a Mount; and although he was accustomed to quote the text, without book, after his own manner, he appeared to read it with as reverent an understanding of its heavenly spirit, as if he had got it all by heart in Greek, and had been able to write any number of fierce theological disquisitions on its every phrase.
Rob the Grinder, whose reverence for the inspired writings, under the admirable system of the Grinders' School, had been developed by a perpetual bruising of his intellectual shins against all the proper names of all the tribes of Judah, and by the monotonous repetition of hard verses,fake delaine ugg boots, especially by way of punishment, and by the parading of him at six years old in leather breeches, three times a Sunday,LINK, very high up, in a very hot church, with a great organ buzzing against his drowsy head, like an exceedingly busy bee - Rob the Grinder made a mighty show of being edified when the Captain ceased to read, and generally yawned and nodded while the reading was in progress. The latter fact being never so much as suspected by the good Captain.
Self-buried, therefore, among the instruments, the Captain never went near Mr Dombey's house, or reported himself in any way to Florence or Miss Nipper. He even severed himself from Mr Perch, on the occasion of his next visit,cheap north face down jackets, by dryly informing that gentleman, that he thanked him for his company, but had cut himself adrift from all such acquaintance, as he didn't know what magazine he mightn't blow up, without meaning of it. In this self-imposed retirement, the Captain passed whole days and weeks without interchanging a word with anyone but Rob the Grinder, whom he esteemed as a pattern of disinterested attachment and fidelity. In this retirement, the Captain, gazing at the packet of an evening, would sit smoking, and thinking of Florence and poor Walter, until they both seemed to his homely fancy to be dead, and to have passed away into eternal youth, the beautiful and innocent children of his first remembrance.
The Captain did not, however, in his musings, neglect his own improvement, or the mental culture of Rob the Grinder. That young man was generally required to read out of some book to the Captain, for one hour, every evening; and as the Captain implicitly believed that all books were true,Discount North Face Down Jackets, he accumulated, by this means, many remarkable facts. On Sunday nights, the Captain always read for himself, before going to bed, a certain Divine Sermon once delivered on a Mount; and although he was accustomed to quote the text, without book, after his own manner, he appeared to read it with as reverent an understanding of its heavenly spirit, as if he had got it all by heart in Greek, and had been able to write any number of fierce theological disquisitions on its every phrase.
Rob the Grinder, whose reverence for the inspired writings, under the admirable system of the Grinders' School, had been developed by a perpetual bruising of his intellectual shins against all the proper names of all the tribes of Judah, and by the monotonous repetition of hard verses,fake delaine ugg boots, especially by way of punishment, and by the parading of him at six years old in leather breeches, three times a Sunday,LINK, very high up, in a very hot church, with a great organ buzzing against his drowsy head, like an exceedingly busy bee - Rob the Grinder made a mighty show of being edified when the Captain ceased to read, and generally yawned and nodded while the reading was in progress. The latter fact being never so much as suspected by the good Captain.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
And I too
And I too, was Helene's internal response,cheap north face down jackets. Aloud she suggested that it was time for them to return. Her indifference was precisely what Edward had begged for, but now in return for his confidence it chilled him. She noticed his disappointment, and with a sudden impulse of sympathy, she laid a tiny gloved hand upon his arm. "Oh, you are right," she breathed, "perfectly right. It is infinitely better to suffer with her than to be happy and contemptible and forget her. Believe me I shall not be a hindrance to you."
He took in his own the little fluttering hand, and held it in what he believed to be a quiet friendly clasp. It was an immense relief to unburden his mind to any one, and her approval was very sweet to a heart that had been torn for weary days and nights by self-accusation and self-contempt,Contact Us. Unconsciously he leaned nearer to her, still holding the little hand, which its owner did not withdraw, because it was for "the last time." In the reaction from the severe strain of the days and weeks gone past they were almost light-hearted. Before re-entering the village Edward stopped the horse in a leafy covert, where for a few minutes they might be secure from observation.
"It is only to say good-bye, my heart's idol," he explained. "Since I have proved myself unworthy even of your liking I must go away from you forever. But our parting must be here in private." He held both her hands now in a tight, strong grasp, and looked into her face with unutterable love. "Ah, heaven," he groaned, "I cannot give you up! I cannot, I cannot!" He bowed his face upon the lilies in her lap, but the languid bloodless things could not cool the fever in his cheeks. For her life she could not help laying her hand tenderly upon his head--the young golden head that lay so wearily close to her empty arms; but she said nothing. A woman's heart is dumb, not because it is created so, but because society has decreed that that is the only proper thing for it to be. "Helene," he murmured, lifting his head with a strange dazed look, "I believe I have been delirious all the morning. What possible good could my suffering be to Wanda? I don't know what I have said, but I wish you would forget it all. I wish you would remember nothing except that I love you--love you--love you!"
The girl laughed aloud and bitterly. "So that is the length of a man's remorse! No! You have begged me to despise you, and now I shall beg you not to make it dangerously easy for me to do so."
Her contempt was a tonic. It reminded the young man that he deserved, not only that but his own contempt as well. They drove home without exchanging another word.
Chapter 20 The Coming Of Wanda
The spectacle of a pair of lovers equally pale and proud alighting at her door was rather dispiriting to Lady Sarah Maitland, but she did not lose heart. This she rightly considered to be the proper thing for them, not for her to do. At least they should not escape "the solitude of the crowd," and opportunities for bringing them into this sort of solitude were not lacking. The same afternoon an English lord,Discount North Face Down Jackets, who had recently been making a tour of the States, with some officers of His Majesty's 70th Regiment, then stationed at York, arrived at Stamford Cottage, and in their honour a large number of guests were assembled that evening. The soft radiance of mingled moonlight and candle light, the artistic luxury of the place and its surroundings, the exquisite robes of soft-voiced women, the cultivated tone and manner of the men,HOMEPAGE, with a sort of subtle and distinguished aroma of British nobility shed over the whole--all of these things held for Edward Macleod a potent witchery. This evening he was in unusually good spirits, and was entertaining a group of gentlemen, who had gathered about him in the centre of the large drawing-room, by an amusing account of his hunting experiences in the backwoods. The sounds of subdued mirth that followed his recital induced a passing bevy of ladies to join them. Lady Sarah took the arm of Helene, and gave him her flattering attention along with the rest. A young man never talks poorly from the knowledge that he has gained the ear of his audience.
A cat get to screeching outside and bring me back to my cold kitchen
A cat get to screeching outside and bring me back to my cold kitchen. I turn the radio off and the light back on, fish my prayer book out my purse. My prayer book is just a blue notepad I pick up at the Ben Franklin store. I use a pencil so I can erase till I get it right. I been writing my prayers since I was in junior high. When I tell my seventh-grade teacher I ain’t coming back to school cause I got to help out my mama, Miss Ross just about cried.
“You’re the smartest one in the class, Aibileen,” she say. “And the only way you’re going to keep sharp is to read and write every day.”
So I started writing my prayers down instead a saying em. But nobody’s called me smart since.
I turn the pages a my prayer book to see who I got tonight. A few times this week, I thought about maybe putting Miss Skeeter on my list. I’m not real sure why. She always nice when she come over. It makes me nervous, but I can’t help but wonder what she was gone ask me in Miss Leefolt’s kitchen, about do I want to change things. Not to mention her asking me the whereabouts a Constantine, her maid growing up. I know what happen between Constantine and Miss Skeeter’s mama and ain’t no way I’m on tell her that story.
The thing is though, if I start praying for Miss Skeeter, I know that conversation gone continue the next time I see her. And the next and the next. Cause that’s the way prayer do. It’s like electricity, it keeps things going,Discount North Face Down Jackets. And the bathroom situation,ugg boots uk, it just ain’t something I really want to discuss.
I scan down my prayer list. My Mae Mobley got the number one rung,fake uggs, then they’s Fanny Lou at church, ailing from the rheumatism. My sisters Inez and Mable in Port Gibson that got eighteen kids between em and six with the flu. When the list be thin, I slip in that old stinky white fella that live behind the feed store, the one lost his mind from drinking the shoe polish. But the list be pretty full tonight.
And look a there who else I done put on this list. Bertrina Bessemer a all people! Everbody know Bertrina and me don’t take to each other ever since she call me a nigga fool for marrying Clyde umpteen years ago.
“Minny,” I say last Sunday, “why Bertrina ask me to pray for her?”
We walking home from the one o’clock service. Minny say, “Rumor is you got some kind a power prayer, gets better results than just the regular variety.”
“Say what?”
“Eudora Green, when she broke her hip, went on your list, up walking in a week. Isaiah fell off the cotton truck, on your prayer list that night, back to work the next day.”
Hearing this made me think about how I didn’t even get the chance to pray for Treelore. Maybe that’s why God took him so fast. He didn’t want a have to argue with me,Website.
“Snuff Washington,” Minny say, “Lolly Jackson—heck, Lolly go on your list and two days later she pop up from her wheelchair like she touched Jesus. Everbody in Hinds County know about that one.”
“But that ain’t me,” I say. “That’s just prayer.”
“But Bertrina—” Minny get to laughing, say, “You know Cocoa, the one Clyde run off with?”
“Phhh. You know I never forget her.”
“You’re the smartest one in the class, Aibileen,” she say. “And the only way you’re going to keep sharp is to read and write every day.”
So I started writing my prayers down instead a saying em. But nobody’s called me smart since.
I turn the pages a my prayer book to see who I got tonight. A few times this week, I thought about maybe putting Miss Skeeter on my list. I’m not real sure why. She always nice when she come over. It makes me nervous, but I can’t help but wonder what she was gone ask me in Miss Leefolt’s kitchen, about do I want to change things. Not to mention her asking me the whereabouts a Constantine, her maid growing up. I know what happen between Constantine and Miss Skeeter’s mama and ain’t no way I’m on tell her that story.
The thing is though, if I start praying for Miss Skeeter, I know that conversation gone continue the next time I see her. And the next and the next. Cause that’s the way prayer do. It’s like electricity, it keeps things going,Discount North Face Down Jackets. And the bathroom situation,ugg boots uk, it just ain’t something I really want to discuss.
I scan down my prayer list. My Mae Mobley got the number one rung,fake uggs, then they’s Fanny Lou at church, ailing from the rheumatism. My sisters Inez and Mable in Port Gibson that got eighteen kids between em and six with the flu. When the list be thin, I slip in that old stinky white fella that live behind the feed store, the one lost his mind from drinking the shoe polish. But the list be pretty full tonight.
And look a there who else I done put on this list. Bertrina Bessemer a all people! Everbody know Bertrina and me don’t take to each other ever since she call me a nigga fool for marrying Clyde umpteen years ago.
“Minny,” I say last Sunday, “why Bertrina ask me to pray for her?”
We walking home from the one o’clock service. Minny say, “Rumor is you got some kind a power prayer, gets better results than just the regular variety.”
“Say what?”
“Eudora Green, when she broke her hip, went on your list, up walking in a week. Isaiah fell off the cotton truck, on your prayer list that night, back to work the next day.”
Hearing this made me think about how I didn’t even get the chance to pray for Treelore. Maybe that’s why God took him so fast. He didn’t want a have to argue with me,Website.
“Snuff Washington,” Minny say, “Lolly Jackson—heck, Lolly go on your list and two days later she pop up from her wheelchair like she touched Jesus. Everbody in Hinds County know about that one.”
“But that ain’t me,” I say. “That’s just prayer.”
“But Bertrina—” Minny get to laughing, say, “You know Cocoa, the one Clyde run off with?”
“Phhh. You know I never forget her.”
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Blind panic
Blind panic. Mine-detecting soldiers picking their way in frenzied slow-motion through the blasting zone. General Zulfikar and other Army brass diving for shelter behind their grandstand, awaiting the explosion ... But there was none; and when the flower of the Pakistan Army peeped out from inside dustbins or behind benches, it saw Bonzo picking her way daintily through the field of the lethal seeds, nose to ground, Bonzo-the-insouciant, quite at her ease. General Zulfikar flung his peaked cap in the air. 'Damn marvellous,Discount North Face Down Jackets!' he cried in the thin voice which squeezed between his nose and chin, 'The old lady can smell the mines!' Bonzo was drafted forthwith into the armed forces as a four-legged mine-detector with the courtesy rank of sergeant-major.
I mention Bonzo's achievement because it gave the General a stick with which to beat us. We Sinais - and Pia Aziz - were helpless, non-productive members of the Zulfikar household, and the General did not wish us to forget it: 'Even a damn hundred-year-old beagle bitch can earn her damn living,' he was heard to mutter, 'but my house is full of people who can't get organized into one damn thing.'
But before the end of October he would be grateful for (at least) my presence ... and the transformation of the Monkey was not far away.
We went to school with cousin Zafar, who seemed less anxious to marry my sister now that we were children of a broken home,North Face Jackets; but his worst deed came one weekend when we were taken to the General's mountain cottage in Nathia Gali,fake jordans, beyond Murree. I was in a state of high excitement (my illness had just been declared cured): mountains! The possibility of panthers! Cold, biting air! - so that I thought nothing of it when the General asked me if I'd mind sharing a bed with Zafar, and didn't even guess when they spread the rubber sheet over the mattress ... I awoke in the small hours in a large rancid pool of lukewarm liquid and began to yell blue murder. The General appeared at our bedside and began to thrash the living daylights out of his son. 'You're a big man now! Damn it to hell! Still, and still you do it! Get yourself organized! Good for nothing! Who behaves in this damn way? Cowards, that's who! Damn me if I'll have a coward for a son ...' The enuresis of my cousin Zafar continued, however, to be the shame of his family; despite thrashings, the liquid ran down his leg; and one day it happened when he was awake. But that was after certain movements had, with my assistance, been performed by pepperpots, proving to me that although the telepathic air-waves were jammed in this country, the modes of connection still seemed to function; active-literally as well as metaphorically, I helped change the fate of the Land of the Pure.
The Brass Monkey and I were helpless observers, in those days, of my wilting mother. She, who had always been assiduous in the heat, had begun to wither in the northern cold. Deprived of two husbands, she was also deprived (in her own eyes) of meaning; and there was also a relationship to rebuild, between mother and son. She held me tightly one night and said, 'Love, my child, is a thing that every mother learns; it is not born with a baby, but made; and for eleven years, I have learned to love you as my son.' But there was a distance behind her gentleness, as though she were trying to persuade herself ... a distance, too, in the Monkey's midnight whispers of, 'Hey, brother, why don't we go and pour water over Zafar - they'll only think he's wet his bed?' - and it was my sense of this gap which showed me that, despite their use of son and brother, their imaginations were working hard to assimilate Mary's confession; not knowing then that they would be unable to succeed in their re-imaginings of brother and son, I remained terrified of Shiva; and was accordingly driven even deeper into the illusory heart of my desire to prove myself worthy of their kinship. Despite Reverend Mother's recognition of me, I was never at my ease until, on a more-than-three-years-distant verandah, my father said, 'Come,fake jordans for sale, son; come here and let me love you.' Perhaps that is why I behaved as I did on the night of October yth, 1958.
I mention Bonzo's achievement because it gave the General a stick with which to beat us. We Sinais - and Pia Aziz - were helpless, non-productive members of the Zulfikar household, and the General did not wish us to forget it: 'Even a damn hundred-year-old beagle bitch can earn her damn living,' he was heard to mutter, 'but my house is full of people who can't get organized into one damn thing.'
But before the end of October he would be grateful for (at least) my presence ... and the transformation of the Monkey was not far away.
We went to school with cousin Zafar, who seemed less anxious to marry my sister now that we were children of a broken home,North Face Jackets; but his worst deed came one weekend when we were taken to the General's mountain cottage in Nathia Gali,fake jordans, beyond Murree. I was in a state of high excitement (my illness had just been declared cured): mountains! The possibility of panthers! Cold, biting air! - so that I thought nothing of it when the General asked me if I'd mind sharing a bed with Zafar, and didn't even guess when they spread the rubber sheet over the mattress ... I awoke in the small hours in a large rancid pool of lukewarm liquid and began to yell blue murder. The General appeared at our bedside and began to thrash the living daylights out of his son. 'You're a big man now! Damn it to hell! Still, and still you do it! Get yourself organized! Good for nothing! Who behaves in this damn way? Cowards, that's who! Damn me if I'll have a coward for a son ...' The enuresis of my cousin Zafar continued, however, to be the shame of his family; despite thrashings, the liquid ran down his leg; and one day it happened when he was awake. But that was after certain movements had, with my assistance, been performed by pepperpots, proving to me that although the telepathic air-waves were jammed in this country, the modes of connection still seemed to function; active-literally as well as metaphorically, I helped change the fate of the Land of the Pure.
The Brass Monkey and I were helpless observers, in those days, of my wilting mother. She, who had always been assiduous in the heat, had begun to wither in the northern cold. Deprived of two husbands, she was also deprived (in her own eyes) of meaning; and there was also a relationship to rebuild, between mother and son. She held me tightly one night and said, 'Love, my child, is a thing that every mother learns; it is not born with a baby, but made; and for eleven years, I have learned to love you as my son.' But there was a distance behind her gentleness, as though she were trying to persuade herself ... a distance, too, in the Monkey's midnight whispers of, 'Hey, brother, why don't we go and pour water over Zafar - they'll only think he's wet his bed?' - and it was my sense of this gap which showed me that, despite their use of son and brother, their imaginations were working hard to assimilate Mary's confession; not knowing then that they would be unable to succeed in their re-imaginings of brother and son, I remained terrified of Shiva; and was accordingly driven even deeper into the illusory heart of my desire to prove myself worthy of their kinship. Despite Reverend Mother's recognition of me, I was never at my ease until, on a more-than-three-years-distant verandah, my father said, 'Come,fake jordans for sale, son; come here and let me love you.' Perhaps that is why I behaved as I did on the night of October yth, 1958.
He was stirred by a sort of sullen anger—this one should not withdraw
He was stirred by a sort of sullen anger—this one should not withdraw. He pursued her across the clearing, splashing in the pools, but she had a start and no sense of shame and she got into the forest before him. It was useless looking for her there, and he returned towards the nearest hut. It wasn't the hut which he had been sheltering in before, but it was just as empty. What had happened to these people,Discount North Face Down Jackets? He knew well enough that these more or less savage encampments were temporary only: the Indians would cultivate a small patch of ground and when they had exhausted the soil for the time being, they would simply move away—they knew nothing about the rotation of crops, but when they moved they would take their maize with them. This was more like flight—from [141] force or disease. He had heard of such flights in the case of sickness, and the horrible thing, of course, was that they carried the sickness with them wherever they moved: sometimes they became panicky like flies against a pane,fake foamposites, but discreetly, letting nobody know, muting their hubbub. He turned moodily again to stare out at the clearing, and there was the Indian woman creeping back—towards the hut where he had sheltered. He called out to her sharply and again she fled, shambling, towards the forest. Her clumsy progress reminded him of a bird feigning a broken wing. … He made no movement to follow her, and before she reached the trees she stopped and watched him; he began to move slowly back towards the other hut. Once he turned: she was following him at a distance, keeping her eyes on him. Again he was reminded of something animal or bird-like, full of anxiety. He walked on, aiming directly at the hut far away beyond it the lightning stabbed down, but you could hardly hear the thunder: the sky was clearing overhead and the moon came out. Suddenly he heard an odd artificial cry, and turning he saw the woman making back towards the forest—then she stumbled, flung up her arms, and fell to the ground—like the bird offering herself.
He felt quite certain now that something valuable was in the hut, perhaps hidden among the maize, and he paid her no attention, going in. Now that the lightning had moved on, he couldn't see—he felt across the floor until he reached the pile of maize. Outside the padding footsteps came nearer. He began to feel all over it—perhaps food was hidden there—and the dry crackle of the leaves was added to the drip of water and the cautious footsteps, like the faint noises of people busy about their private businesses. Then he put his hand on a face.
He couldn't be frightened any more by a thing like that—it was something human he had his fingers on. They moved down the body: it was that of a child who lay completely quiet under his hand. In the doorway the moonlight showed the woman's face indistinctly: she was probably convulsed with anxiety, but you couldn't tell,Website. He thought —I must get this into the open where I can see. …
It was a male child—perhaps three years old: a withered bullet head with a mop of black hair: unconscious—but not dead: he could feel the faintest movement in the breast. He [142] thought of disease again until he took out his hand and found that the child was wet with blood, not sweat. Horror and disgust touched him—violence everywhere: was there no end to violence? He said to the woman sharply: "What happened,HOMEPAGE?" It was as if man in all this state had been left to man.
He felt quite certain now that something valuable was in the hut, perhaps hidden among the maize, and he paid her no attention, going in. Now that the lightning had moved on, he couldn't see—he felt across the floor until he reached the pile of maize. Outside the padding footsteps came nearer. He began to feel all over it—perhaps food was hidden there—and the dry crackle of the leaves was added to the drip of water and the cautious footsteps, like the faint noises of people busy about their private businesses. Then he put his hand on a face.
He couldn't be frightened any more by a thing like that—it was something human he had his fingers on. They moved down the body: it was that of a child who lay completely quiet under his hand. In the doorway the moonlight showed the woman's face indistinctly: she was probably convulsed with anxiety, but you couldn't tell,Website. He thought —I must get this into the open where I can see. …
It was a male child—perhaps three years old: a withered bullet head with a mop of black hair: unconscious—but not dead: he could feel the faintest movement in the breast. He [142] thought of disease again until he took out his hand and found that the child was wet with blood, not sweat. Horror and disgust touched him—violence everywhere: was there no end to violence? He said to the woman sharply: "What happened,HOMEPAGE?" It was as if man in all this state had been left to man.
Monday, November 26, 2012
Nearly a hundred years passed on
Nearly a hundred years passed on, and all that time, there was peace in Britain. The Britons improved their towns and mode of life: became more civilised, travelled, and learnt a great deal from the Gauls and Romans. At last, the Roman Emperor, Claudius, sent AULUS PLAUTIUS, a skilful general, with a mighty force, to subdue the Island, and shortly afterwards arrived himself. They did little; and OSTORIUS SCAPULA, another general, came. Some of the British Chiefs of Tribes submitted. Others resolved to fight to the death. Of these brave men, the bravest was CARACTACUS, or CARADOC, who gave battle to the Romans, with his army, among the mountains of North Wales. 'This day,' said he to his soldiers, 'decides the fate of Britain! Your liberty, or your eternal slavery, dates from this hour. Remember your brave ancestors, who drove the great Caesar himself across the sea!' On hearing these words, his men, with a great shout, rushed upon the Romans. But the strong Roman swords and armour were too much for the weaker British weapons in close conflict. The Britons lost the day. The wife and daughter of the brave CARACTACUS were taken prisoners; his brothers delivered themselves up; he himself was betrayed into the hands of the Romans by his false and base stepmother: and they carried him, and all his family, in triumph to Rome.
But a great man will be great in misfortune, great in prison, great in chains. His noble air, and dignified endurance of distress, so touched the Roman people who thronged the streets to see him, that he and his family were restored to freedom. No one knows whether his great heart broke, and he died in Rome, or whether he ever returned to his own dear country. English oaks have grown up from acorns, and withered away, when they were hundreds of years old - and other oaks have sprung up in their places, and died too, very aged - since the rest of the history of the brave CARACTACUS was forgotten.
Still, the Britons WOULD NOT yield. They rose again and again, and died by thousands, sword in hand. They rose, on every possible occasion. SUETONIUS, another Roman general, came, and stormed the Island of Anglesey (then called MONA), which was supposed to be sacred, and he burnt the Druids in their own wicker cages, by their own fires. But, even while he was in Britain, with his victorious troops, the BRITONS rose. Because BOADICEA, a British queen, the widow of the King of the Norfolk and Suffolk people, resisted the plundering of her property by the Romans who were settled in England, she was scourged, by order of CATUS a Roman officer; and her two daughters were shamefully insulted in her presence, and her husband's relations were made slaves. To avenge this injury, the Britons rose, with all their might and rage. They drove CATUS into Gaul; they laid the Roman possessions waste; they forced the Romans out of London, then a poor little town, but a trading place; they hanged, burnt, crucified, and slew by the sword, seventy thousand Romans in a few days. SUETONIUS strengthened his army, and advanced to give them battle. They strengthened their army, and desperately attacked his, on the field where it was strongly posted. Before the first charge of the Britons was made, BOADICEA, in a war-chariot, with her fair hair streaming in the wind, and her injured daughters lying at her feet, drove among the troops, and cried to them for vengeance on their oppressors, the licentious Romans. The Britons fought to the last; but they were vanquished with great slaughter, and the unhappy queen took poison.
But a great man will be great in misfortune, great in prison, great in chains. His noble air, and dignified endurance of distress, so touched the Roman people who thronged the streets to see him, that he and his family were restored to freedom. No one knows whether his great heart broke, and he died in Rome, or whether he ever returned to his own dear country. English oaks have grown up from acorns, and withered away, when they were hundreds of years old - and other oaks have sprung up in their places, and died too, very aged - since the rest of the history of the brave CARACTACUS was forgotten.
Still, the Britons WOULD NOT yield. They rose again and again, and died by thousands, sword in hand. They rose, on every possible occasion. SUETONIUS, another Roman general, came, and stormed the Island of Anglesey (then called MONA), which was supposed to be sacred, and he burnt the Druids in their own wicker cages, by their own fires. But, even while he was in Britain, with his victorious troops, the BRITONS rose. Because BOADICEA, a British queen, the widow of the King of the Norfolk and Suffolk people, resisted the plundering of her property by the Romans who were settled in England, she was scourged, by order of CATUS a Roman officer; and her two daughters were shamefully insulted in her presence, and her husband's relations were made slaves. To avenge this injury, the Britons rose, with all their might and rage. They drove CATUS into Gaul; they laid the Roman possessions waste; they forced the Romans out of London, then a poor little town, but a trading place; they hanged, burnt, crucified, and slew by the sword, seventy thousand Romans in a few days. SUETONIUS strengthened his army, and advanced to give them battle. They strengthened their army, and desperately attacked his, on the field where it was strongly posted. Before the first charge of the Britons was made, BOADICEA, in a war-chariot, with her fair hair streaming in the wind, and her injured daughters lying at her feet, drove among the troops, and cried to them for vengeance on their oppressors, the licentious Romans. The Britons fought to the last; but they were vanquished with great slaughter, and the unhappy queen took poison.
The four vehicles had gathered in the long driveway of Robbie's home at 500 a
The four vehicles had gathered in the long driveway of Robbie's home at 5:00 a.m. and managed to weave through side streets and back roads for a stealthy and successful getaway. The office had received enough phone calls and e-mails to convince Robbie that certain people were curious about where he might be headed on Friday.
He'd slept five hours, and it took a pill to achieve that. He was beyond the point of exhaustion, but there was so much left to do. After leaving Lamb & Son, and briefly seeing the body, he took his entourage home, where DeDe managed to produce enough food to feed everyone. Keith and Boyette slept on sofas in the basement while a maid washed and ironed their clothes.
Everyone was exhausted, but no one had trouble jumping out of bed.
Carlos was on his cell phone, listening more than talking, and when the conversation was over, he announced, "That was my man at the radio station. Forty or so arrests, two dozen injuries, but no fatalities, which is a miracle. They have sealed off most of downtown, and things have settled down for the moment. Lots of fires, too many to count. Fire trucks here from Paris, Tyler, other places. At least three police cars have been hit with Molotov cocktails, which has become the weapon of choice. They torched the press box at the football field and it's still burning. Most of the fires are in empty buildings. No homes, yet. Rumor is that the governor is sending in more guardsmen. Nothing confirmed, though."
"And what happens if we find the body?" Martha asked.
Robbie shook his head and thought for a second. "Then last night was child's play."
They had debated the various combinations and arrangements for the trip. To make sure Boyette didn't vanish, Robbie wanted him secured in his van under the watchful eye of Aaron Rey and Fred Pryor. But he just couldn't stomach the thought of being confined in a small place for several hours with the creep. Keith was adamant that he was driving his Subaru, primarily because he was determined to be in Topeka by late Friday afternoon, with or without Boyette. Like Robbie, he had no desire to sit near Boyette, but since he had done it once, he assured Robbie that he could do it again.
Fred Pryor had suggested they toss Boyette in the rear seat of the club cab of his truck and keep guns on him. Among Robbie's team, there was a yearning for retribution, and if Boyette did indeed lead them to the body, Fred Pryor and Aaron Rey could easily be convinced to take him somewhere behind the trees and put him out of his misery. Keith sensed this, and they respected his presence. There would be no violence.
The inclusion of Bryan Day had been complicated. Robbie trusted no reporter, period. However, if they found what they were looking for, it would need to be properly recorded, and by someone outside his circle. Of course Day had been eager to tag along, but he had been forced to agree to a list of firm conditions that basically prevented him from reporting anything until so directed by Robbie Flak. If he tried, he and Buck the cameraman would in all likelihood be either beaten or shot, or both. Day and Buck understood that the stakes were high and the rules would be followed. Because Day was the station's news director, he was able to slip away without leaving clues at the office.
He'd slept five hours, and it took a pill to achieve that. He was beyond the point of exhaustion, but there was so much left to do. After leaving Lamb & Son, and briefly seeing the body, he took his entourage home, where DeDe managed to produce enough food to feed everyone. Keith and Boyette slept on sofas in the basement while a maid washed and ironed their clothes.
Everyone was exhausted, but no one had trouble jumping out of bed.
Carlos was on his cell phone, listening more than talking, and when the conversation was over, he announced, "That was my man at the radio station. Forty or so arrests, two dozen injuries, but no fatalities, which is a miracle. They have sealed off most of downtown, and things have settled down for the moment. Lots of fires, too many to count. Fire trucks here from Paris, Tyler, other places. At least three police cars have been hit with Molotov cocktails, which has become the weapon of choice. They torched the press box at the football field and it's still burning. Most of the fires are in empty buildings. No homes, yet. Rumor is that the governor is sending in more guardsmen. Nothing confirmed, though."
"And what happens if we find the body?" Martha asked.
Robbie shook his head and thought for a second. "Then last night was child's play."
They had debated the various combinations and arrangements for the trip. To make sure Boyette didn't vanish, Robbie wanted him secured in his van under the watchful eye of Aaron Rey and Fred Pryor. But he just couldn't stomach the thought of being confined in a small place for several hours with the creep. Keith was adamant that he was driving his Subaru, primarily because he was determined to be in Topeka by late Friday afternoon, with or without Boyette. Like Robbie, he had no desire to sit near Boyette, but since he had done it once, he assured Robbie that he could do it again.
Fred Pryor had suggested they toss Boyette in the rear seat of the club cab of his truck and keep guns on him. Among Robbie's team, there was a yearning for retribution, and if Boyette did indeed lead them to the body, Fred Pryor and Aaron Rey could easily be convinced to take him somewhere behind the trees and put him out of his misery. Keith sensed this, and they respected his presence. There would be no violence.
The inclusion of Bryan Day had been complicated. Robbie trusted no reporter, period. However, if they found what they were looking for, it would need to be properly recorded, and by someone outside his circle. Of course Day had been eager to tag along, but he had been forced to agree to a list of firm conditions that basically prevented him from reporting anything until so directed by Robbie Flak. If he tried, he and Buck the cameraman would in all likelihood be either beaten or shot, or both. Day and Buck understood that the stakes were high and the rules would be followed. Because Day was the station's news director, he was able to slip away without leaving clues at the office.
‘You’re the new accountant at the U
‘You’re the new accountant at the U.A.C.?’
‘That’s me. Have a drink?’
‘I’ll have a lemon squash if you don’t mind. Can’t drink in the middle of the day.’
The Indian rose from his table and approached with deference, ‘You remember me, Mr Harris. Perhaps you would tell your friend, Mr Harris, of my talents. Perhaps he would like to read my letters of recommendation ...’ The grubby sheaf of envelopes was always in his hand. ‘The leaders of society.’
‘Be off. Beat it, you old scoundrel,’ Harris said.
‘How did you know my name?’ Wilson asked.
‘Saw it on a cable. I’m a cable censor,’ Harris said. ‘What a job! What a place!’
‘I can see from here, Mr Harris, that your fortune has chan-ged considerably. If you would step with me for a moment into the bathroom...’
‘Beat it, Gunga Din.’
‘Why the bathroom?’ Wilson asked.
‘He always tells fortunes there. I suppose it’s the only pri-vate room available. I never thought of asking why.’
‘Been here long?’
‘Eighteen bloody months.’
‘Going home soon?’
Harris stared over the tin roofs towards the harbour. He said, ‘The ships all go the wrong way. But when I do get home you’ll never see me here again.’ He lowered his voice and said with venom over his lemon squash, ‘I hate the place. I hate the people. I hate the bloody niggers. Mustn’t call ‘em that you know.’
‘My boy seems all right’
‘A man’s boy’s always all right. He’s a real nigger - but these, look at ‘em, look at that one with a feather boa down there. They aren’t even real niggers. Just West Indians and they rule the coast Clerks in the stores, city council, magistrates, law-yers - my God. It’s all right up in the Protectorate. I haven’t anything to say against a real nigger. God made our colours. But these - my God! The Government’s afraid of them. The police are afraid of them. Look down there,’ Harris said, ‘look at Scobie.’
A vulture flapped and shifted on the iron roof and Wilson looked at Scobie. He looked without interest in obedience to a stranger’s direction, and it seemed to him that no particular interest attached to the squat grey-haired man walking alone up Bond Street. He couldn’t tell that this was one of those oc-casions a man never forgets: a small cicatrice had been made on the memory, a wound that would ache whenever certain things combined - the taste of gin at mid-day, the smell of flowers under a balcony, the clang of corrugated iron, an ugly bird flopping from perch to perch.
‘He loves ‘em so much,’ Harris said, ‘he sleeps with ‘em.’
‘Is that the police uniform?’
‘It is. Our great police force. A lost thing will they never find - you know the poem.’
‘I don’t read poetry,’ Wilson said. His eyes followed Scobie up the sun-drowned street. Scobie stopped and had a word with a black man in a white panama: a black policeman passed by, saluting smartly. Scobie went on.
‘Probably in the pay of the Syrians too if the truth were known.’
‘The Syrians?’
‘This is the original Tower of Babel,’ Harris said. ‘West In-dians, Africans, real Indians, Syrians, Englishmen, Scotsmen in the Office of Works, Irish priests, French priests, Alsatian priests.
‘That’s me. Have a drink?’
‘I’ll have a lemon squash if you don’t mind. Can’t drink in the middle of the day.’
The Indian rose from his table and approached with deference, ‘You remember me, Mr Harris. Perhaps you would tell your friend, Mr Harris, of my talents. Perhaps he would like to read my letters of recommendation ...’ The grubby sheaf of envelopes was always in his hand. ‘The leaders of society.’
‘Be off. Beat it, you old scoundrel,’ Harris said.
‘How did you know my name?’ Wilson asked.
‘Saw it on a cable. I’m a cable censor,’ Harris said. ‘What a job! What a place!’
‘I can see from here, Mr Harris, that your fortune has chan-ged considerably. If you would step with me for a moment into the bathroom...’
‘Beat it, Gunga Din.’
‘Why the bathroom?’ Wilson asked.
‘He always tells fortunes there. I suppose it’s the only pri-vate room available. I never thought of asking why.’
‘Been here long?’
‘Eighteen bloody months.’
‘Going home soon?’
Harris stared over the tin roofs towards the harbour. He said, ‘The ships all go the wrong way. But when I do get home you’ll never see me here again.’ He lowered his voice and said with venom over his lemon squash, ‘I hate the place. I hate the people. I hate the bloody niggers. Mustn’t call ‘em that you know.’
‘My boy seems all right’
‘A man’s boy’s always all right. He’s a real nigger - but these, look at ‘em, look at that one with a feather boa down there. They aren’t even real niggers. Just West Indians and they rule the coast Clerks in the stores, city council, magistrates, law-yers - my God. It’s all right up in the Protectorate. I haven’t anything to say against a real nigger. God made our colours. But these - my God! The Government’s afraid of them. The police are afraid of them. Look down there,’ Harris said, ‘look at Scobie.’
A vulture flapped and shifted on the iron roof and Wilson looked at Scobie. He looked without interest in obedience to a stranger’s direction, and it seemed to him that no particular interest attached to the squat grey-haired man walking alone up Bond Street. He couldn’t tell that this was one of those oc-casions a man never forgets: a small cicatrice had been made on the memory, a wound that would ache whenever certain things combined - the taste of gin at mid-day, the smell of flowers under a balcony, the clang of corrugated iron, an ugly bird flopping from perch to perch.
‘He loves ‘em so much,’ Harris said, ‘he sleeps with ‘em.’
‘Is that the police uniform?’
‘It is. Our great police force. A lost thing will they never find - you know the poem.’
‘I don’t read poetry,’ Wilson said. His eyes followed Scobie up the sun-drowned street. Scobie stopped and had a word with a black man in a white panama: a black policeman passed by, saluting smartly. Scobie went on.
‘Probably in the pay of the Syrians too if the truth were known.’
‘The Syrians?’
‘This is the original Tower of Babel,’ Harris said. ‘West In-dians, Africans, real Indians, Syrians, Englishmen, Scotsmen in the Office of Works, Irish priests, French priests, Alsatian priests.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Halifax came booming up behind them
Halifax came booming up behind them. ‘Who’s for shore? Got the police launch, Scobie? Mary’s down in the cabin, Mrs Scobie, wiping off the tears and putting on the powder for the passengers.’
‘Good-bye, dear.’
‘Good-bye.’ That was the real good-bye, the handshake with Halifax watching and the passengers from England looking curiously on. As the launch moved away she was almost at once indistinguishable; perhaps she had gone down to the cabin to join Mrs Halifax. The dream had finished: change was over: life had begun again.
‘I hate these good-byes,’ Halifax said,Cheap Adidas Jeremy Scott Big Tongue Shoes. ‘Glad when it’s all over. Think I’ll go up to the Bedford and have a glass of beer. Join me?’
‘Sorry. I have to go on duty.’
‘I wouldn’t mind a nice little black girl to look after me now I’m alone,’ Halifax said. ‘However, faithful and true, old fidelity, that’s me,’ and as Scobie knew, it was.
In the shade of a tarpaulined dump Wilson stood, looking out across the bay. Scobie paused. He was touched by the plump sad boyish face. ‘Sorry we didn’t see you,’ he said and lied harmlessly,Rolex Submariner Replica. ‘Louise sent her love.’
4
It was nearly one in the morning before he returned. The light was out in the kitchen quarters and Ali was dozing on the steps of the house until the headlamps woke him, passing across his sleeping face. He jumped up and lit the way from the garage with his torch.
‘All right, Ali. Go to bed.’
He let himself into the empty house - he had forgotten the deep tones of silence. Many a time he had come in late, after Louise was asleep, but there had never then been quite this quality of security and impregnability in the silence: his ears had listened for, even though they could not catch, the faint rustle of another person’s breath,fake delaine ugg boots, the tiny movement. Now there was nothing to listen for. He went upstairs and looked into the bedroom. Everything had been tidied away; there was no sign of Louise’s departure or presence: Ali had even removed the photograph and put it in a drawer. He was indeed alone. In the bathroom a rat moved, and once the iron roof crumpled as a late vulture settled for the night.
Scobie sat down in the living-room and put his feet upon another chair. He felt unwilling yet to go to bed, but he was sleepy - it had been a long day. Now that he was alone he could indulge in the most irrational act and sleep in a chair instead of a bed. The sadness was peeling off his mind, leaving contentment,fake uggs. He had done his duty: Louise was happy. He closed his eyes.
The sound of a car driving in off the road, headlamps moving across the window, woke him. He imagined it was a police car - that night he was the responsible officer and he thought that some urgent and probably unnecessary telegram had come in. He opened the door and found Yusef on the step. ‘Forgive me, Major Scobie, I saw your light as I was passing, and I thought...’
‘Come in,’ he said, ‘I have whisky or would you prefer a little beer ...?’
Yusef said with surprise, ‘This is very hospitable of you, Major Scobie.’
‘Good-bye, dear.’
‘Good-bye.’ That was the real good-bye, the handshake with Halifax watching and the passengers from England looking curiously on. As the launch moved away she was almost at once indistinguishable; perhaps she had gone down to the cabin to join Mrs Halifax. The dream had finished: change was over: life had begun again.
‘I hate these good-byes,’ Halifax said,Cheap Adidas Jeremy Scott Big Tongue Shoes. ‘Glad when it’s all over. Think I’ll go up to the Bedford and have a glass of beer. Join me?’
‘Sorry. I have to go on duty.’
‘I wouldn’t mind a nice little black girl to look after me now I’m alone,’ Halifax said. ‘However, faithful and true, old fidelity, that’s me,’ and as Scobie knew, it was.
In the shade of a tarpaulined dump Wilson stood, looking out across the bay. Scobie paused. He was touched by the plump sad boyish face. ‘Sorry we didn’t see you,’ he said and lied harmlessly,Rolex Submariner Replica. ‘Louise sent her love.’
4
It was nearly one in the morning before he returned. The light was out in the kitchen quarters and Ali was dozing on the steps of the house until the headlamps woke him, passing across his sleeping face. He jumped up and lit the way from the garage with his torch.
‘All right, Ali. Go to bed.’
He let himself into the empty house - he had forgotten the deep tones of silence. Many a time he had come in late, after Louise was asleep, but there had never then been quite this quality of security and impregnability in the silence: his ears had listened for, even though they could not catch, the faint rustle of another person’s breath,fake delaine ugg boots, the tiny movement. Now there was nothing to listen for. He went upstairs and looked into the bedroom. Everything had been tidied away; there was no sign of Louise’s departure or presence: Ali had even removed the photograph and put it in a drawer. He was indeed alone. In the bathroom a rat moved, and once the iron roof crumpled as a late vulture settled for the night.
Scobie sat down in the living-room and put his feet upon another chair. He felt unwilling yet to go to bed, but he was sleepy - it had been a long day. Now that he was alone he could indulge in the most irrational act and sleep in a chair instead of a bed. The sadness was peeling off his mind, leaving contentment,fake uggs. He had done his duty: Louise was happy. He closed his eyes.
The sound of a car driving in off the road, headlamps moving across the window, woke him. He imagined it was a police car - that night he was the responsible officer and he thought that some urgent and probably unnecessary telegram had come in. He opened the door and found Yusef on the step. ‘Forgive me, Major Scobie, I saw your light as I was passing, and I thought...’
‘Come in,’ he said, ‘I have whisky or would you prefer a little beer ...?’
Yusef said with surprise, ‘This is very hospitable of you, Major Scobie.’
”当他们在桌旁坐下的时候
“沃尔，”当他们在桌旁坐下的时候，船长说道，“如果你舅舅是我所想的那种人，遇上今天这样的日子，他是会取出他最后的那瓶马德拉白葡萄酒的。”
“不，不，内德，”老人回答道，“不，那瓶酒等沃尔特重新回到家里时再打开。”
“说得好！”船长喊道，“听他说吧！”
“它躺在那里，”所尔•吉尔斯说，“躺在下面的小地窖里，上面覆盖着尘土和蜘蛛网。在它重见阳光之前，内德，也许你和我身上也已覆盖着尘土和蜘蛛网了。”
“听他说吧！”船长喊道，“极妙的寓意！沃尔，我的孩子，栽一株无花果，让它好好长大，等你老了，就坐在树荫下休息。翻一下——不过，”船长想了一下，说，“我不能很肯定从哪本书里可以找到这句话；可是你要是收到的话，请把它记下来。所尔•吉尔斯。重新往前用力拉吧①！”
--------
①这是水手在起锚时的劳动号子，船长借用它来要所尔•吉尔斯继续往下说。
“可是它得躺在那里或别的什么地方，内德,http://www.rolexsubmarinerreplicas.com/，直到沃利回来要求喝它的时候，”老人说道，“这就是我所想要说的一切。”
“说得也不错，”船长回答道，“如果我们三人不能一起打开那瓶酒的话，那么我允许你们两人把我的那份也喝掉！”
船长虽然谈笑风生，十分兴高采烈，但他对付那条熏黑的舌头的本领却怪差劲，尽管当有人看着他的时候，他极力装出胃口很好地吃着。而且，他很害怕和舅舅或外甥单独在一起，好像他认为，他要保持这种春风满面的神态，唯一安全的机会是三个人老待在一起。船长由于怀有这种恐惧心理，他就想出了好些机智的逃避方法：当所罗门走去穿外衣的时候，他就假装看到一辆不同寻常的出租马车经过而跑到门口；当沃尔特上楼去跟房客们告别时,fake uggs for sale，他就假装闻到邻近烟囱的火焦味而冲到街上。船长认为，没有灵感的观察者是很难看破他的这些巧计的。
沃尔特去楼上告别之后走下楼来,Rolex Sea Dweller，正穿过店铺向小客厅走回的时候，他看到一张他认识的憔悴的脸正向门里探望，就立即向他急冲过去。
“卡克先生！”沃尔特紧握着约翰•卡克先生的手，喊道，“请进来吧！您真客气，起得这么早来向我告别。您知道，我多么高兴能在离别之前再跟您握一次手啊。我说不出我是多么高兴能有这个机会。请进来吧！”
“我们不见得以后还能再见面了，沃尔特，”那一位委婉地谢绝了他的邀请，“我也因为有这个机会而感到高兴。在即将离别之前，我也许可以不揣冒昧地来跟您说说话和握握手。
沃尔特，我将不再迫不得已反对您坦率地跟我接近了”。
当他说这些话的时候，在他的微笑中还带有一些忧郁的东西，这表明他甚至在沃尔特要跟他接近的想法本身中也看到了关怀与友谊。
“唉，卡克先生！”沃尔特回答道，“您为什么要反对呢？
我完全相信，您只会做对我有益的事情。”
他摇摇头。“如果在这世界上我能做点儿什么有益事情的话，那么我将会为您做的。我一天天看到您，对我来说，既感到快乐，又引起悔恨。但是高兴超过了痛苦。现在我明白了这一点，因为我知道我失去什么了。”
“请进来吧，卡克先生，来跟我善良的年老的舅舅认识认识吧，”沃尔特催促着，“我常常跟他说到您，他将会高兴把从我那里听到的一切告诉您；我没有，”沃尔特注意到他的迟疑，他自己也感到局促不安地说道，“我没有跟他说起我们上次谈话的内容，什么也没有说；卡克先生；甚至对他我也不说，请相信我。”
这位头发斑白的低级职员紧握着他的手，眼睛里涌出了泪水。
“如果我什么时候跟他认识，沃尔特，”他回答道，“那么那只是为了可以从他那里打听到您的消息。请相信我决不会对不起您对我的宽容与关心。如果我在取得他的信任之前不把全部真情告诉他，那么我就对不起您的宽容与关心了。但是我除了您，没有别的朋友或熟人；甚至为了您的缘故我也未必会去找。”
“我希望，”沃尔特说，“您已真正允许我做您的朋友。卡克先生；您知道，我经常是这样希望的；可是这希望从不曾像现在我们就要分别的时候这么强烈。”
“您一直是我心里的朋友，当我愈是避开您的时候，我的心就愈是向着您，愈是一心一意地想着您——我想这就够了。
沃尔特，再见吧！”
“再见吧，卡克先生，愿老天爷保佑您，先生！”沃尔特激动地喊道。
“如果,ladies rolex datejusts，”那一位继续握着他的手说道，“如果您回来时，在我原先的角落里看不到我，并从别人那里打听到我躺在什么地方的话，那么请来看看我的坟墓吧。请想一想，我本来是可以跟您一样诚实和幸福的！当我知道我的死期就要来临的时候，请让我想到，有一位像我过去一样的人会在那里站上片刻，怀着怜悯与宽恕的心情记得我的！沃尔特，再见吧！”
夏日清晨的街道布满了阳光，明明亮亮，那么令人爽心悦目，又那么庄严肃穆；他的身形像一个影子似的，沿着这条街道缓慢地移行着，最后消失不见了。
毫不留情的精密计时表终于宣告：沃尔特必须离别木制海军军官候补生了。他们——他自己、舅舅和船长——乘着一辆出租马车动身前往码头，再从码头搭乘汽艇到河流下面的一个河段；当船长说出它的名称时，陆地上的人们听起来真像是个不可思议、神奇莫测的秘密。当汽艇乘着昨夜的涨潮，开到这个河段之后，他们被一群情绪兴奋的划小船的船家团团围住，里面有一位是船长认识的肮脏的赛克洛普斯①；他虽然只有一只眼睛，但在一英里半之外就认出了船长，从那时起就跟他交换着难以理解的么喝。这位胡子拉碴、嗓子嘶哑得可怕的人，把他们三人当成了合法的战利品，运送到“儿子和继承人”号上。“儿子和继承人”号上十分混乱，沾着泥水的船帆被撂在湿漉漉的甲板上，没有拉紧的绳索把人们绊倒，穿着红衬衫的船员们赤着脚跑来跑去，木桶堵塞着每一小块空处；在这一切杂乱的中心，甲板上黑厨房中的一位黑厨师周围堆满了蔬菜，一直堆到他的眼睛底下，他的眼睛被烟薰得几乎失明。
--------
①赛克洛普斯（Cyclops）：希腊神话中的独眼巨人。
船长立即把沃尔特拉到一个角落里，脸孔涨得通红，使劲地拉出了那只银表；那只表很大，在他的衣袋中塞得又很紧，所以把它拉出的时候就像从桶口拔出个大塞子似的。
“沃尔，”船长把它递过去，并热烈地握着他的手说道，“这是告别的礼物，我的孩子。每天早上把它往后拨半小时，到中午再往后拨一刻钟左右。这只表是你可以引以自豪的。”
“卡特尔船长！我不能要这个！”沃尔特喊道，一边拦住他，因为他正要跑开。“请拿回去。我已经有一只了。”
“那么，沃尔，”船长突然把手伸进另一只口袋。取出两只茶匙和一副方糖箝子，他装备着这些东西就是为了防备遭到拒绝时用的。“就请改拿走这些喝茶用的小东西吧！”
“不，不，说真的，我不能拿走！”沃尔特喊道，“千谢万谢！别扔掉，卡特尔船长！”因为船长正想要把它们投掷到船外。“它们对您比对我有用得多。把您的手杖给我吧。我时常想，我要能有它该多好啊。唔，这就是！再见，卡特尔船长！
请照顾照顾舅舅吧！所尔舅舅，上帝保佑你！”
沃尔特没来得及再望他们一眼，他们已经在混乱之中离开大船了；当他跑到船尾，目送着他们的时候，他看见舅舅坐在小船里低垂着头，卡特尔船长用那只大银表拍打着他的背（那一定很痛），还精神抖擞地用茶匙和方糖箝子打着手势。卡特尔船长瞧见沃尔特时，显然忘记了他还有这些财产，漫不经心地把它们掉落到小船船底，同时脱下了上了光的帽子，拼命地向他欢呼。上了光的帽子在阳光下闪闪发光，大出风头，船长不断地挥舞着它，直到望不见沃尔特为止。船上一直在迅速增加的杂乱这时达到了高潮；另外两三只小船在欢呼声中离开；当沃尔特望着船帆在顺风中舒展开帆面的时候，船帆在上空明亮和丰满地闪耀着；浪花从船头飞溅过来；“儿子和继承人”号就这样雄赳赳气昂昂地、轻轻快快地启程航行，就像在它之前已经走上旅程的其他许多儿子和继承人一样，一直向前行进。
“不，不，内德，”老人回答道，“不，那瓶酒等沃尔特重新回到家里时再打开。”
“说得好！”船长喊道，“听他说吧！”
“它躺在那里，”所尔•吉尔斯说，“躺在下面的小地窖里，上面覆盖着尘土和蜘蛛网。在它重见阳光之前，内德，也许你和我身上也已覆盖着尘土和蜘蛛网了。”
“听他说吧！”船长喊道，“极妙的寓意！沃尔，我的孩子，栽一株无花果，让它好好长大，等你老了，就坐在树荫下休息。翻一下——不过，”船长想了一下，说，“我不能很肯定从哪本书里可以找到这句话；可是你要是收到的话，请把它记下来。所尔•吉尔斯。重新往前用力拉吧①！”
--------
①这是水手在起锚时的劳动号子，船长借用它来要所尔•吉尔斯继续往下说。
“可是它得躺在那里或别的什么地方，内德,http://www.rolexsubmarinerreplicas.com/，直到沃利回来要求喝它的时候，”老人说道，“这就是我所想要说的一切。”
“说得也不错，”船长回答道，“如果我们三人不能一起打开那瓶酒的话，那么我允许你们两人把我的那份也喝掉！”
船长虽然谈笑风生，十分兴高采烈，但他对付那条熏黑的舌头的本领却怪差劲，尽管当有人看着他的时候，他极力装出胃口很好地吃着。而且，他很害怕和舅舅或外甥单独在一起，好像他认为，他要保持这种春风满面的神态，唯一安全的机会是三个人老待在一起。船长由于怀有这种恐惧心理，他就想出了好些机智的逃避方法：当所罗门走去穿外衣的时候，他就假装看到一辆不同寻常的出租马车经过而跑到门口；当沃尔特上楼去跟房客们告别时,fake uggs for sale，他就假装闻到邻近烟囱的火焦味而冲到街上。船长认为，没有灵感的观察者是很难看破他的这些巧计的。
沃尔特去楼上告别之后走下楼来,Rolex Sea Dweller，正穿过店铺向小客厅走回的时候，他看到一张他认识的憔悴的脸正向门里探望，就立即向他急冲过去。
“卡克先生！”沃尔特紧握着约翰•卡克先生的手，喊道，“请进来吧！您真客气，起得这么早来向我告别。您知道，我多么高兴能在离别之前再跟您握一次手啊。我说不出我是多么高兴能有这个机会。请进来吧！”
“我们不见得以后还能再见面了，沃尔特，”那一位委婉地谢绝了他的邀请，“我也因为有这个机会而感到高兴。在即将离别之前，我也许可以不揣冒昧地来跟您说说话和握握手。
沃尔特，我将不再迫不得已反对您坦率地跟我接近了”。
当他说这些话的时候，在他的微笑中还带有一些忧郁的东西，这表明他甚至在沃尔特要跟他接近的想法本身中也看到了关怀与友谊。
“唉，卡克先生！”沃尔特回答道，“您为什么要反对呢？
我完全相信，您只会做对我有益的事情。”
他摇摇头。“如果在这世界上我能做点儿什么有益事情的话，那么我将会为您做的。我一天天看到您，对我来说，既感到快乐，又引起悔恨。但是高兴超过了痛苦。现在我明白了这一点，因为我知道我失去什么了。”
“请进来吧，卡克先生，来跟我善良的年老的舅舅认识认识吧，”沃尔特催促着，“我常常跟他说到您，他将会高兴把从我那里听到的一切告诉您；我没有，”沃尔特注意到他的迟疑，他自己也感到局促不安地说道，“我没有跟他说起我们上次谈话的内容，什么也没有说；卡克先生；甚至对他我也不说，请相信我。”
这位头发斑白的低级职员紧握着他的手，眼睛里涌出了泪水。
“如果我什么时候跟他认识，沃尔特，”他回答道，“那么那只是为了可以从他那里打听到您的消息。请相信我决不会对不起您对我的宽容与关心。如果我在取得他的信任之前不把全部真情告诉他，那么我就对不起您的宽容与关心了。但是我除了您，没有别的朋友或熟人；甚至为了您的缘故我也未必会去找。”
“我希望，”沃尔特说，“您已真正允许我做您的朋友。卡克先生；您知道，我经常是这样希望的；可是这希望从不曾像现在我们就要分别的时候这么强烈。”
“您一直是我心里的朋友，当我愈是避开您的时候，我的心就愈是向着您，愈是一心一意地想着您——我想这就够了。
沃尔特，再见吧！”
“再见吧，卡克先生，愿老天爷保佑您，先生！”沃尔特激动地喊道。
“如果,ladies rolex datejusts，”那一位继续握着他的手说道，“如果您回来时，在我原先的角落里看不到我，并从别人那里打听到我躺在什么地方的话，那么请来看看我的坟墓吧。请想一想，我本来是可以跟您一样诚实和幸福的！当我知道我的死期就要来临的时候，请让我想到，有一位像我过去一样的人会在那里站上片刻，怀着怜悯与宽恕的心情记得我的！沃尔特，再见吧！”
夏日清晨的街道布满了阳光，明明亮亮，那么令人爽心悦目，又那么庄严肃穆；他的身形像一个影子似的，沿着这条街道缓慢地移行着，最后消失不见了。
毫不留情的精密计时表终于宣告：沃尔特必须离别木制海军军官候补生了。他们——他自己、舅舅和船长——乘着一辆出租马车动身前往码头，再从码头搭乘汽艇到河流下面的一个河段；当船长说出它的名称时，陆地上的人们听起来真像是个不可思议、神奇莫测的秘密。当汽艇乘着昨夜的涨潮，开到这个河段之后，他们被一群情绪兴奋的划小船的船家团团围住，里面有一位是船长认识的肮脏的赛克洛普斯①；他虽然只有一只眼睛，但在一英里半之外就认出了船长，从那时起就跟他交换着难以理解的么喝。这位胡子拉碴、嗓子嘶哑得可怕的人，把他们三人当成了合法的战利品，运送到“儿子和继承人”号上。“儿子和继承人”号上十分混乱，沾着泥水的船帆被撂在湿漉漉的甲板上，没有拉紧的绳索把人们绊倒，穿着红衬衫的船员们赤着脚跑来跑去，木桶堵塞着每一小块空处；在这一切杂乱的中心，甲板上黑厨房中的一位黑厨师周围堆满了蔬菜，一直堆到他的眼睛底下，他的眼睛被烟薰得几乎失明。
--------
①赛克洛普斯（Cyclops）：希腊神话中的独眼巨人。
船长立即把沃尔特拉到一个角落里，脸孔涨得通红，使劲地拉出了那只银表；那只表很大，在他的衣袋中塞得又很紧，所以把它拉出的时候就像从桶口拔出个大塞子似的。
“沃尔，”船长把它递过去，并热烈地握着他的手说道，“这是告别的礼物，我的孩子。每天早上把它往后拨半小时，到中午再往后拨一刻钟左右。这只表是你可以引以自豪的。”
“卡特尔船长！我不能要这个！”沃尔特喊道，一边拦住他，因为他正要跑开。“请拿回去。我已经有一只了。”
“那么，沃尔，”船长突然把手伸进另一只口袋。取出两只茶匙和一副方糖箝子，他装备着这些东西就是为了防备遭到拒绝时用的。“就请改拿走这些喝茶用的小东西吧！”
“不，不，说真的，我不能拿走！”沃尔特喊道，“千谢万谢！别扔掉，卡特尔船长！”因为船长正想要把它们投掷到船外。“它们对您比对我有用得多。把您的手杖给我吧。我时常想，我要能有它该多好啊。唔，这就是！再见，卡特尔船长！
请照顾照顾舅舅吧！所尔舅舅，上帝保佑你！”
沃尔特没来得及再望他们一眼，他们已经在混乱之中离开大船了；当他跑到船尾，目送着他们的时候，他看见舅舅坐在小船里低垂着头，卡特尔船长用那只大银表拍打着他的背（那一定很痛），还精神抖擞地用茶匙和方糖箝子打着手势。卡特尔船长瞧见沃尔特时，显然忘记了他还有这些财产，漫不经心地把它们掉落到小船船底，同时脱下了上了光的帽子，拼命地向他欢呼。上了光的帽子在阳光下闪闪发光，大出风头，船长不断地挥舞着它，直到望不见沃尔特为止。船上一直在迅速增加的杂乱这时达到了高潮；另外两三只小船在欢呼声中离开；当沃尔特望着船帆在顺风中舒展开帆面的时候，船帆在上空明亮和丰满地闪耀着；浪花从船头飞溅过来；“儿子和继承人”号就这样雄赳赳气昂昂地、轻轻快快地启程航行，就像在它之前已经走上旅程的其他许多儿子和继承人一样，一直向前行进。
Friday, November 23, 2012
But he had not long to wait
But he had not long to wait. As he stood on the beach in the absence of his companions, who were carefully retracing their steps to the wigwam in search of a glove, presumably dropped by the way, he caught sight of the Indian girl, her back turned towards him, lazily rocking herself in his boat. For a moment he thrilled with the excitement of a hunter in the presence of that desirable object, "a splendid shot." Then he crept stealthily forward, sprang into the boat, and before the startled girl could recover from her amazement, he was rowing her far out on the moonlit bay. "There!" he cried, exultantly, bending an ardent yet laughing gaze upon her, "now you may run away as fast as you like."
The girl neither spoke nor moved. A great fire of resentment was burning in her heart, and its flames mounted to her cheeks. "My soul!" he murmured, "how beautiful you are!" She faced him fully and fairly, with the magnificent disdain of an empress in exile. In some way she gave him the impression that this brilliant little escapade was rather a poor joke after all. "Do me the favour of moving a muscle," he pleaded mockingly, and his request was lavishly granted. Before he could guess her intention she was in the water, knocking an oar from his hand in her rapid exit, and swimming at an incredible rate of speed for the nearest point of land, from which she sped like a hunted thing to the woods.
Left alone in this unceremonious fashion the young man paddled ruefully after his missing oar, and then struck out boldly after the escaped captive, with the intention of apologizing for what now seemed to him rather a cowardly performance; but the footsteps of the flying maiden left no trace upon the beach. His discomfited gaze rested on no living thing save the approaching figures of his sister and her friend, whose humane inquiries and frequent jests concerning the half wild, wholly dripping, vision that had crossed their path, contributed in no way to the young man's enjoyment of their homeward row.
Chapter 5 The Algonquin Maiden
Early on one of those matchless summer mornings, for he loved to adopt the hours kept by the birds, Edward set forth alone on a voyage of discovery. The wilds of his native land had a great and enduring fascination for him. He never ceased to enjoy the charm of a forest so dense that one might stay in it for days without the danger of discovery. Wandering as he listed, hurrying or loitering as it pleased him, and resting when weary beneath the outstretched arms of the over-shadowing wood, he drank deeply of the simple joys of a free and careless savage life. His whole nature became sensitive and receptive, like that of a poet, an absorbent of the beauty and music of earth and air.
The long bright hours of this particular day were spent in exploring bayous and marshes, and in paddling among the ledges and around the lovely islands of Lake Couchiching. The dazzling blue expanse--mirror of a sky as blue--was broadly edged with reeds and rushes, flags and water-lilies, and framed by the thickly wooded shore and the green still cliffs that overhung the quiet waves. The air was laden with the sweet faint odours of early summer, and a soft breeze was lightly blowing under skies as soft. The youthful voyager went ashore, and for a long time lay stretched on the sand with his gun watching for wild-fowl.
ALLAN DUNLOP
ALLAN DUNLOP."
But there was little need now of formal--or indeed of any--correspondence between Allan and Rose, for they were soon to be forever together, in the bonds not only of a common sympathy and a common interest in their country's welfare, but in that closer union of hearts which both had secretly longed for and both had feared would never come about. It was arranged that in the spring of the following year there would be a double marriage, and that the day that saw Edward united to Helene would also see the union of Allan and Rose. Even now, preparations for the interesting event had been set on foot, and society in "Muddy Little York" was on the tip-toe of excitement over the coming weddings.
As the winter passed, and the month drew near which was to witness the two-fold alliance, the young people of the Capital took a delirious interest in every circumstance, however trivial, connected with the affair. Of course, the double ceremony was to take place at the Church of St. James, and it was known that the Lieutenant-Governor and Lady Sarah Maitland, before finally quitting the Province, were to be present, and that the redoubtable politico-ecclesiastic, the Archdeacon of York, was to tie the knots, and, in his richest doric, pronounce both couples severally "mon and wife." The wedding breakfast, it was also a matter of current talk, was to be at the homestead of a distinguished member of the local judiciary; and it had also leaked out that, thereafter, the united couples were to embark on His Majesty's sloop-of-war, "The Princess Charlotte," and be conveyed as far as Kingston, on the wedding journey to Quebec, where Edward, with his bride, was to proceed to England to rejoin his regiment, and Allan and Rose were to spend the honeymoon in some delightful retreat on the St. Lawrence.
What need is there to continue the chronicle?--save to assure the modern reader of this old-time story that everything happily came about as foreshadowed in the gossip we have just related, and that the after-fortunes of the four happy people who took that early wedding journey on the St. Lawrence were as bright as those of the happiest Canadian bride and bridegroom that have ever taken the same journey since.
The End
Thursday, November 22, 2012
I had little object -- certainly no hope -- in these researches
I had little object -- certainly no hope -- in these researches, but a vague curiosity prompted me to continue them. Quitting the wall, I resolved to cross the area of the enclosure. At first I proceeded with extreme caution, for the floor although seemingly of solid material was treacherous with slime. At length, however, I took courage and did not hesitate to step firmly -- endeavouring to cross in as direct a line as possible. I had advanced some ten or twelve paces in this manner, when the remnant of the torn hem of my robe became entangled between my legs. I stepped on it, and fell violently on my face.
In the confusion attending my fall, I did not immediately apprehend a somewhat startling circumstance, which yet, in a few seconds afterward, and while I still lay prostrate, arrested my attention. It was this: my chin rested upon the floor of the prison, but my lips, and the upper portion of my head, although seemingly at a less elevation than the chin, touched nothing. At the same time, my forehead seemed bathed in a clammy vapour, and the peculiar smell of decayed fungus arose to my nostrils. I put forward my arm, and shuddered to find that I had fallen at the very brink of a circular pit, whose extent of course I had no means of ascertaining at the moment. Groping about the masonry just below the margin, I succeeded in dislodging a small fragment, and let it fall into the abyss. For many seconds I hearkened to its reverberations as it dashed against the sides of the chasm in its descent; at length there was a sullen plunge into water, succeeded by loud echoes. At the same moment there came a sound resembling the quick opening, and as rapid closing of a door overhead, while a faint gleam of light flashed suddenly through the gloom, and as suddenly faded away.
I saw clearly the doom which had been prepared for me, and congratulated myself upon the timely accident by which I had escaped. Another step before my fall, and the world had seen me no more and the death just avoided was of that very character which I had regarded as fabulous and frivolous in the tales respecting the Inquisition. To the victims of its tyranny, there was the choice of death with its direst physical agonies, or death with its most hideous moral horrors. I had been reserved for the latter. By long suffering my nerves had been unstrung, until I trembled at the sound of my own voice, and had become in every respect a fitting subject for the species of torture which awaited me.
Shaking in every limb, I groped my way back to the wall -- resolving there to perish rather than risk the terrors of the wells, of which my imagination now pictured many in various positions about the dungeon. In other conditions of mind I might have had courage to end my misery at once by a plunge into one of these abysses; but now I was the veriest of cowards. Neither could I forget what I had read of these pits -- that the SUDDEN extinction of life formed no part of their most horrible plan.
Agitation of spirit kept me awake for many long hours; but at length I again slumbered. Upon arousing, I found by my side, as before, a loaf and a pitcher of water. A burning thirst consumed me, and I emptied the vessel at a draught. It must have been drugged, for scarcely had I drunk before I became irresistibly drowsy. A deep sleep fell upon me -- a sleep like that of death. How long it lasted of course I know not; but when once again I unclosed my eyes the objects around me were visible. By a wild sulphurous lustre, the origin of which I could not at first determine, I was enabled to see the extent and aspect of the prison.
In the confusion attending my fall, I did not immediately apprehend a somewhat startling circumstance, which yet, in a few seconds afterward, and while I still lay prostrate, arrested my attention. It was this: my chin rested upon the floor of the prison, but my lips, and the upper portion of my head, although seemingly at a less elevation than the chin, touched nothing. At the same time, my forehead seemed bathed in a clammy vapour, and the peculiar smell of decayed fungus arose to my nostrils. I put forward my arm, and shuddered to find that I had fallen at the very brink of a circular pit, whose extent of course I had no means of ascertaining at the moment. Groping about the masonry just below the margin, I succeeded in dislodging a small fragment, and let it fall into the abyss. For many seconds I hearkened to its reverberations as it dashed against the sides of the chasm in its descent; at length there was a sullen plunge into water, succeeded by loud echoes. At the same moment there came a sound resembling the quick opening, and as rapid closing of a door overhead, while a faint gleam of light flashed suddenly through the gloom, and as suddenly faded away.
I saw clearly the doom which had been prepared for me, and congratulated myself upon the timely accident by which I had escaped. Another step before my fall, and the world had seen me no more and the death just avoided was of that very character which I had regarded as fabulous and frivolous in the tales respecting the Inquisition. To the victims of its tyranny, there was the choice of death with its direst physical agonies, or death with its most hideous moral horrors. I had been reserved for the latter. By long suffering my nerves had been unstrung, until I trembled at the sound of my own voice, and had become in every respect a fitting subject for the species of torture which awaited me.
Shaking in every limb, I groped my way back to the wall -- resolving there to perish rather than risk the terrors of the wells, of which my imagination now pictured many in various positions about the dungeon. In other conditions of mind I might have had courage to end my misery at once by a plunge into one of these abysses; but now I was the veriest of cowards. Neither could I forget what I had read of these pits -- that the SUDDEN extinction of life formed no part of their most horrible plan.
Agitation of spirit kept me awake for many long hours; but at length I again slumbered. Upon arousing, I found by my side, as before, a loaf and a pitcher of water. A burning thirst consumed me, and I emptied the vessel at a draught. It must have been drugged, for scarcely had I drunk before I became irresistibly drowsy. A deep sleep fell upon me -- a sleep like that of death. How long it lasted of course I know not; but when once again I unclosed my eyes the objects around me were visible. By a wild sulphurous lustre, the origin of which I could not at first determine, I was enabled to see the extent and aspect of the prison.
“但我还是在继续查访
“但我还是在继续查访。自从我来到这些产煤的山谷以后，我一到这地方，就知道我过去错了，这完全不是一些拙劣的故事传说。于是我便停留下来观察。在芝加哥我从未杀过人，我一生中也从未制造过伪币。我送给你们的那些钱币都是真的，但我从来没有把钱用得这样得当过。可是我知道怎样迎合你们的心理，所以我对你们假装说，我是犯了法逃走的。这一切都正如我想象的那样管用。
“我加入了你们那恶魔一般的分会，你们商议事情时，我尽力参加。可能人们会说我象你们一样坏，他们愿意怎么说就怎么说，只要我能抓住你们就行。可是事实怎么样？你们毒打斯坦格老人那晚我参加了。因为没有时间，我来不及事先警告他。可是，鲍德温，当你要杀死他时，我拉住了你的手。假如我曾经建议过一些事情，那就是为了在你们中间保持我的地位，而这是一些我知道我可以预防的事情。我未能拯救邓恩和孟席斯，因为我事先完全不知道，然而我会看到杀害他们的凶手被处绞刑的。我事先警告了切斯特•威尔科克斯，所以，在我炸他居住的寓所时，他和家中人一起躲起来了。也有许多犯罪活动是我未能制止的，可是只要你们回顾一下，想一想为什么你们要害的人往往回家时走了另一条路，或是在你们寻找他时，他却留在镇上，或是你们认为他要出来时，他却深居不出，你们就可以知道这正是我做的了。”
“你这个该死的内奸！"麦金蒂咬牙切齿地咒骂道。
“喂，约翰•麦金蒂，假如这可以减轻你的伤痛，你可以这样称呼我。你和你这一类人是上帝和这些地方居民的死敌。需要有一个人到你们和受你们控制的那些可怜的男女中间去了解情况。要达到这个目地，只有一种方法，于是我就采用了这种方法。你们称呼我是内奸，可是我想有成千上万的人要称呼我是救命恩人，把他们从地狱里救出来。我用了三个月的时间，在当地调查全部情况，掌握每一个人的罪恶和每一件秘密。如果不是知道我的秘密已经泄露出去，那我还要再等一些时候才动手呢。因为镇里已经接到了一封信，它会给你们敲起警钟来。所以我只好行动，而且迅速行动。
“我没有别的话对你们说。我要告诉你们，在我晚年临终之日，我想到我在这山谷做的这件事，我就会安然死去。现在，马文，我不再耽搁你了。把他们拘捕起来。”
还需要再向读者多罗嗦几句。斯坎伦被派给伊蒂•谢夫特小姐送去一封蜡封的信笺，他在接受这项使命时，眨眨眼，会意地笑了。次日一大清早，一位美丽的女子和一个蒙首盖面的人，乘坐铁路公司所派的特别快车，迅速不停地离开了这个危险的地方。这是伊蒂和她的情人在这恐怖谷中最后的行踪了。十天以后，老雅各布•谢夫特做主婚，他们在芝加哥结了婚。
这些死酷党人被押解到远处去审判，他们的党徒无法去威胁那里的法律监护人，他们枉费心机去运动，花钱如流水一般地去搭救（这些钱都是从全镇敲诈、勒索、抢劫而来的），结果依然是白费心机。控诉他们用的证词写得非常周密、明确、证据确凿。因为写这份证词的人熟知他们的生活、组织和每一犯罪活动的每一细节，以致他们的辩护人耍尽阴谋诡计，也无法挽救他们灭亡的命运。过了这么多年，死酷党人终于被击破、被粉碎了。从此，山谷永远驱散了乌云。
麦金蒂在绞架上结束了他的生命，临刑时悲泣哀号也是徒然。其他八名首犯也被处死。另有五十多名党徒被判以各种的徒刑。至此，伯尔弟•爱德华大功告成。
然而，正如爱德华所预料的，这出戏还不算结束。还有别的人要继续上演，而且一个接一个地演下去。特德•鲍德温首先逃脱了绞刑，其次是威拉比兄弟二人，还有这一伙人中其他几个凶狠残暴的人也都逃脱了绞刑。他们只被监禁了十年，终于获得释放，而爱德华深深了解这些人，他意识到仇敌出狱这一天也就是自己和平生活的结束。这些党徒立誓要为他们的同党报仇雪恨，不杀死他决不罢休！
有两次他们几乎得手，毫无疑问，第三次会接踵而至。爱德华无奈离开了芝加哥。他更名换姓从芝加哥迁至加利福尼亚。伊蒂•爱德华与世长辞，他的生活一时失去了光彩。有一次他险遭毒手，他便再次更名道格拉斯在一个人迹稀少的峡谷里和一个名叫巴克的英国人合伙经营矿业，积蓄了一大笔财富。最后，他发现那些嗜血的猎犬又追踪而来。他清楚地意识到，只有立即迁往英国才是出路。后来约翰•道格拉斯重娶了一位高贵的女子，过了五年苏塞克斯郡的绅士生活。这种生活最后所发生的奇事，前面已经介绍过了。
Epilogue
The police trial had passed, in which the case of John Douglas was referred to a higher court. So had the Quarter Sessions, at which he was acquitted as having acted in self-defense.
"Get him out of England at any cost," wrote Holmes to the wife. "There are forces here which may be more dangerous than those he has escaped. There is no safety for your husband in England."
Two months had gone by, and the case had to some extent passed from our minds. Then one morning there came an enigmatic note slipped into our letter box. "Dear me, Mr. Holmes. Dear me!" said this singular epistle. There was neither superscription nor signature. I laughed at the quaint message; but Holmes showed unwonted seriousness.
"Deviltry, Watson!" he remarked, and sat long with a clouded brow.
Late last night Mrs. Hudson, our landlady, brought up a message that a gentleman wished to see Mr. Holmes, and that the matter was of the utmost importance. Close at the heels of his messenger came Cecil Barker, our friend of the moated Manor House. His face was drawn and haggard.
"I've had bad news--terrible news, Mr. Holmes," said he.
"I feared as much," said Holmes.
"You have not had a cable, have you?"
"I have had a note from someone who has."
"It's poor Douglas. They tell me his name is Edwards; but he will always be Jack Douglas of Benito Canon to me. I told you that they started together for South Africa in the Palmyra three weeks ago."
“我加入了你们那恶魔一般的分会，你们商议事情时，我尽力参加。可能人们会说我象你们一样坏，他们愿意怎么说就怎么说，只要我能抓住你们就行。可是事实怎么样？你们毒打斯坦格老人那晚我参加了。因为没有时间，我来不及事先警告他。可是，鲍德温，当你要杀死他时，我拉住了你的手。假如我曾经建议过一些事情，那就是为了在你们中间保持我的地位，而这是一些我知道我可以预防的事情。我未能拯救邓恩和孟席斯，因为我事先完全不知道，然而我会看到杀害他们的凶手被处绞刑的。我事先警告了切斯特•威尔科克斯，所以，在我炸他居住的寓所时，他和家中人一起躲起来了。也有许多犯罪活动是我未能制止的，可是只要你们回顾一下，想一想为什么你们要害的人往往回家时走了另一条路，或是在你们寻找他时，他却留在镇上，或是你们认为他要出来时，他却深居不出，你们就可以知道这正是我做的了。”
“你这个该死的内奸！"麦金蒂咬牙切齿地咒骂道。
“喂，约翰•麦金蒂，假如这可以减轻你的伤痛，你可以这样称呼我。你和你这一类人是上帝和这些地方居民的死敌。需要有一个人到你们和受你们控制的那些可怜的男女中间去了解情况。要达到这个目地，只有一种方法，于是我就采用了这种方法。你们称呼我是内奸，可是我想有成千上万的人要称呼我是救命恩人，把他们从地狱里救出来。我用了三个月的时间，在当地调查全部情况，掌握每一个人的罪恶和每一件秘密。如果不是知道我的秘密已经泄露出去，那我还要再等一些时候才动手呢。因为镇里已经接到了一封信，它会给你们敲起警钟来。所以我只好行动，而且迅速行动。
“我没有别的话对你们说。我要告诉你们，在我晚年临终之日，我想到我在这山谷做的这件事，我就会安然死去。现在，马文，我不再耽搁你了。把他们拘捕起来。”
还需要再向读者多罗嗦几句。斯坎伦被派给伊蒂•谢夫特小姐送去一封蜡封的信笺，他在接受这项使命时，眨眨眼，会意地笑了。次日一大清早，一位美丽的女子和一个蒙首盖面的人，乘坐铁路公司所派的特别快车，迅速不停地离开了这个危险的地方。这是伊蒂和她的情人在这恐怖谷中最后的行踪了。十天以后，老雅各布•谢夫特做主婚，他们在芝加哥结了婚。
这些死酷党人被押解到远处去审判，他们的党徒无法去威胁那里的法律监护人，他们枉费心机去运动，花钱如流水一般地去搭救（这些钱都是从全镇敲诈、勒索、抢劫而来的），结果依然是白费心机。控诉他们用的证词写得非常周密、明确、证据确凿。因为写这份证词的人熟知他们的生活、组织和每一犯罪活动的每一细节，以致他们的辩护人耍尽阴谋诡计，也无法挽救他们灭亡的命运。过了这么多年，死酷党人终于被击破、被粉碎了。从此，山谷永远驱散了乌云。
麦金蒂在绞架上结束了他的生命，临刑时悲泣哀号也是徒然。其他八名首犯也被处死。另有五十多名党徒被判以各种的徒刑。至此，伯尔弟•爱德华大功告成。
然而，正如爱德华所预料的，这出戏还不算结束。还有别的人要继续上演，而且一个接一个地演下去。特德•鲍德温首先逃脱了绞刑，其次是威拉比兄弟二人，还有这一伙人中其他几个凶狠残暴的人也都逃脱了绞刑。他们只被监禁了十年，终于获得释放，而爱德华深深了解这些人，他意识到仇敌出狱这一天也就是自己和平生活的结束。这些党徒立誓要为他们的同党报仇雪恨，不杀死他决不罢休！
有两次他们几乎得手，毫无疑问，第三次会接踵而至。爱德华无奈离开了芝加哥。他更名换姓从芝加哥迁至加利福尼亚。伊蒂•爱德华与世长辞，他的生活一时失去了光彩。有一次他险遭毒手，他便再次更名道格拉斯在一个人迹稀少的峡谷里和一个名叫巴克的英国人合伙经营矿业，积蓄了一大笔财富。最后，他发现那些嗜血的猎犬又追踪而来。他清楚地意识到，只有立即迁往英国才是出路。后来约翰•道格拉斯重娶了一位高贵的女子，过了五年苏塞克斯郡的绅士生活。这种生活最后所发生的奇事，前面已经介绍过了。
Epilogue
The police trial had passed, in which the case of John Douglas was referred to a higher court. So had the Quarter Sessions, at which he was acquitted as having acted in self-defense.
"Get him out of England at any cost," wrote Holmes to the wife. "There are forces here which may be more dangerous than those he has escaped. There is no safety for your husband in England."
Two months had gone by, and the case had to some extent passed from our minds. Then one morning there came an enigmatic note slipped into our letter box. "Dear me, Mr. Holmes. Dear me!" said this singular epistle. There was neither superscription nor signature. I laughed at the quaint message; but Holmes showed unwonted seriousness.
"Deviltry, Watson!" he remarked, and sat long with a clouded brow.
Late last night Mrs. Hudson, our landlady, brought up a message that a gentleman wished to see Mr. Holmes, and that the matter was of the utmost importance. Close at the heels of his messenger came Cecil Barker, our friend of the moated Manor House. His face was drawn and haggard.
"I've had bad news--terrible news, Mr. Holmes," said he.
"I feared as much," said Holmes.
"You have not had a cable, have you?"
"I have had a note from someone who has."
"It's poor Douglas. They tell me his name is Edwards; but he will always be Jack Douglas of Benito Canon to me. I told you that they started together for South Africa in the Palmyra three weeks ago."
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Margotte is decent
"Yes, Margotte is decent. You couldn't ask for better."
"So, remember, Uncle, no worries."
"Thank you, Elya."
A confusing, frowning moment, and, getting into the breast, the head, and even down into the bowels and about the heart, and behind the eyes—something gripping, aching, smarting. The woman was buffing Gruner's nails, and he sat straight in the fully buttoned pajama coat; above it, the bandage hiding the throat with its screw. His large ruddy face was mainly unhandsome, his baldness, his big-eared plainness, the large tip of the nose; Gruner belonged to the common branch of the family. It was, however, a virile face, and, when superficial objections were removed, a kindly face. Sammler knew the defects of his man. Saw them as dust and pebbles, as rubble on a mosaic which might be swept away. Underneath, a fine, noble expression. A dependable man—a man who took thought for others.
"You've been good to Shula and me, Elya."
Gruner neither acknowledged nor denied this. Perhaps by the rigidity of his posture he fended off gratitude he did not deserve in full.
In short, if the earth deserves to be abandoned, if we are now to be driven streaming into other worlds, starting with the moon, it is not because of the likes of you, Sammler would have said. He put it more briefly, "I’m grateful."
"you're a gentleman, Uncle Artur."
"I'll be in touch."
"Yes, come back. It does me good."
Sammler, outside the rubber-silenced door, put on his Augustus John hat. A hat from the Soho that was. He went down the corridor in his usual quick way, favoring the sightful side slightly, putting forward the right leg and the right shoulder. When he came to the anteroom, a sunny bay with soft plastic orange furniture, he found Wallace Gruner there with a doctor in a white coat. This was Elya's surgeon.
"My dad's uncle—Dr. Cosbie."
"How do you do, Dr. Cosbie." The conceivably wasted fragrance of Mr. Sammler's manners. Who was there now to be aware of such Old World stuff! Here and there perhaps a woman might appreciate his style of greeting. But not a Doctor Cosbie. The ex-football star, famous in Georgia , struck Sammler as a sort of human wall. High and flat. His face was mysteriously silent, and very white. The upper lip was steep and prominent. The mouth itself thin and straight. Somewhat unapproachable, he kept his hands behind his back. He had the air of a general whose mind is on battalions in a bloody struggle, just out of sight over a hill. To a civilian pest who came up to him at that moment he had nothing to say.
"How is Dr. Gruner?"
"Makin' good progress, suh. A very fine patient."
Dr. Gruner was being seen as he wished to be seen. Every occasion had its propaganda. Democracy was propaganda. From government, propaganda entered every aspect of life. You had a desire, a view, a line, and you disseminated it. It took, everyone spoke of the event in the appropriate way, under your influence. In this case Elya, a doctor, a patient, made it known that he was the patient of patients. An allowable foible; boyish, but what of it? It had a certain interest.
"So, remember, Uncle, no worries."
"Thank you, Elya."
A confusing, frowning moment, and, getting into the breast, the head, and even down into the bowels and about the heart, and behind the eyes—something gripping, aching, smarting. The woman was buffing Gruner's nails, and he sat straight in the fully buttoned pajama coat; above it, the bandage hiding the throat with its screw. His large ruddy face was mainly unhandsome, his baldness, his big-eared plainness, the large tip of the nose; Gruner belonged to the common branch of the family. It was, however, a virile face, and, when superficial objections were removed, a kindly face. Sammler knew the defects of his man. Saw them as dust and pebbles, as rubble on a mosaic which might be swept away. Underneath, a fine, noble expression. A dependable man—a man who took thought for others.
"You've been good to Shula and me, Elya."
Gruner neither acknowledged nor denied this. Perhaps by the rigidity of his posture he fended off gratitude he did not deserve in full.
In short, if the earth deserves to be abandoned, if we are now to be driven streaming into other worlds, starting with the moon, it is not because of the likes of you, Sammler would have said. He put it more briefly, "I’m grateful."
"you're a gentleman, Uncle Artur."
"I'll be in touch."
"Yes, come back. It does me good."
Sammler, outside the rubber-silenced door, put on his Augustus John hat. A hat from the Soho that was. He went down the corridor in his usual quick way, favoring the sightful side slightly, putting forward the right leg and the right shoulder. When he came to the anteroom, a sunny bay with soft plastic orange furniture, he found Wallace Gruner there with a doctor in a white coat. This was Elya's surgeon.
"My dad's uncle—Dr. Cosbie."
"How do you do, Dr. Cosbie." The conceivably wasted fragrance of Mr. Sammler's manners. Who was there now to be aware of such Old World stuff! Here and there perhaps a woman might appreciate his style of greeting. But not a Doctor Cosbie. The ex-football star, famous in Georgia , struck Sammler as a sort of human wall. High and flat. His face was mysteriously silent, and very white. The upper lip was steep and prominent. The mouth itself thin and straight. Somewhat unapproachable, he kept his hands behind his back. He had the air of a general whose mind is on battalions in a bloody struggle, just out of sight over a hill. To a civilian pest who came up to him at that moment he had nothing to say.
"How is Dr. Gruner?"
"Makin' good progress, suh. A very fine patient."
Dr. Gruner was being seen as he wished to be seen. Every occasion had its propaganda. Democracy was propaganda. From government, propaganda entered every aspect of life. You had a desire, a view, a line, and you disseminated it. It took, everyone spoke of the event in the appropriate way, under your influence. In this case Elya, a doctor, a patient, made it known that he was the patient of patients. An allowable foible; boyish, but what of it? It had a certain interest.
“The mirror
“The mirror!” William cried. “He is shutting us inside!” Led by the sound, we both rushed toward the entrance; I stumbled over a stool and bruised my leg but paid no heed, because in a flash I realized that if Jorge shut us in we would never get out: in the darkness we would never find the way to open the door, not knowing what had to be maneuvered on this side, or how.
I believe William moved with the same desperation as I did, because I felt him beside me as both of us, reaching the threshold, pressed ourselves against the back of the mirror, which was closing toward, us. We arrived in time; the door stopped, then gave way and reopened. Obviously Jorge, sensing the conflict was unequal, had left. We came out of the accursed room, but now we had no idea where the old man was heading, and the darkness was still complete.
All of a sudden I remembered: “Master! I have the flint with me!”
“What are you waiting for, then?” William cried. “Find the lamp and light it,fake uggs!” I rushed back in the darkness, into the finis Africae, groping for the lamp. I found it at once, by divine miracle, then dug inside my scapular and pulled out the flint. My hands were trembling, and two or three times I failed before I was able to light it, as William gasped at the door, “Hurry,http://www.fakeuggsforsales.com/, hurry!” Finally I made a light.
“Hurry!” William urged me again. “Otherwise the old man will eat up all of Aristotle!”
“And die!” I cried in anguish, overtaking him and joining in the search.
“I don’t care whether he dies, damn the monster!” William cried, peering in every direction, moving at random. “With what he has eaten, his fate is already sealed. But I want the book!”
Then he stopped and added, more calmly, “Wait. If we continue like this, we’ll never find him. Hush: we’ll remain still for a moment.” We stiffened, in silence. And in the silence we heard, not far away,fake uggs boots, the sound of a body bumping into a case, and the racket of some falling books. “That way!” we shouted, together.
We ran in the direction of the noise, but soon real?ized we would have to slow our pace. In fact, outside the finis Africae,rolex gmt, the library was filled that evening with gusts of air that hissed and moaned, in proportion to the strong wind outside. Heightened by our speed, they threatened to put out our light, so painfully recovered. Since we could not move faster, we would have to make Jorge move more slowly. But William had just the opposite idea and shouted, “We’ve caught you, old man; now we have light!” And it was a wise decision, because the revelation probably upset Jorge, who moved faster, compromising his magic sensibility, his gift for seeing in the darkness. Soon we heard another noise, and, following it, when we entered room Y of YSPANIA, we saw him lying on the floor, the book still in his hands, as he attempted to pull himself to his feet among the books that had spilled from the table he had struck and overturned. He was trying to stand, but he went on tearing the pages, determined to devour his prey as quickly as possible.
By the time we overtook him he was on his feet; sensing our presence, he confronted us, moving back?ward. His face, in the reddish glow of the lamp, now seemed horrible to us: the features were distorted, a malignant sweat streaked his brow and cheeks, his eyes, usually a deathly white, were bloodshot, from his mouth came scraps of parchment, and he looked like a raven?ing beast who had stuffed himself and could no longer swallow his food. Disfigured by anxiety, by the menace of the poison now flowing abundantly through his veins, by his desperate and diabolical determination, the venerable figure of the old man now seemed dis?gusting and grotesque. At other moments he might have inspired laughter, but we, too, were reduced to the condition of animals, dogs stalking their quarry.
I believe William moved with the same desperation as I did, because I felt him beside me as both of us, reaching the threshold, pressed ourselves against the back of the mirror, which was closing toward, us. We arrived in time; the door stopped, then gave way and reopened. Obviously Jorge, sensing the conflict was unequal, had left. We came out of the accursed room, but now we had no idea where the old man was heading, and the darkness was still complete.
All of a sudden I remembered: “Master! I have the flint with me!”
“What are you waiting for, then?” William cried. “Find the lamp and light it,fake uggs!” I rushed back in the darkness, into the finis Africae, groping for the lamp. I found it at once, by divine miracle, then dug inside my scapular and pulled out the flint. My hands were trembling, and two or three times I failed before I was able to light it, as William gasped at the door, “Hurry,http://www.fakeuggsforsales.com/, hurry!” Finally I made a light.
“Hurry!” William urged me again. “Otherwise the old man will eat up all of Aristotle!”
“And die!” I cried in anguish, overtaking him and joining in the search.
“I don’t care whether he dies, damn the monster!” William cried, peering in every direction, moving at random. “With what he has eaten, his fate is already sealed. But I want the book!”
Then he stopped and added, more calmly, “Wait. If we continue like this, we’ll never find him. Hush: we’ll remain still for a moment.” We stiffened, in silence. And in the silence we heard, not far away,fake uggs boots, the sound of a body bumping into a case, and the racket of some falling books. “That way!” we shouted, together.
We ran in the direction of the noise, but soon real?ized we would have to slow our pace. In fact, outside the finis Africae,rolex gmt, the library was filled that evening with gusts of air that hissed and moaned, in proportion to the strong wind outside. Heightened by our speed, they threatened to put out our light, so painfully recovered. Since we could not move faster, we would have to make Jorge move more slowly. But William had just the opposite idea and shouted, “We’ve caught you, old man; now we have light!” And it was a wise decision, because the revelation probably upset Jorge, who moved faster, compromising his magic sensibility, his gift for seeing in the darkness. Soon we heard another noise, and, following it, when we entered room Y of YSPANIA, we saw him lying on the floor, the book still in his hands, as he attempted to pull himself to his feet among the books that had spilled from the table he had struck and overturned. He was trying to stand, but he went on tearing the pages, determined to devour his prey as quickly as possible.
By the time we overtook him he was on his feet; sensing our presence, he confronted us, moving back?ward. His face, in the reddish glow of the lamp, now seemed horrible to us: the features were distorted, a malignant sweat streaked his brow and cheeks, his eyes, usually a deathly white, were bloodshot, from his mouth came scraps of parchment, and he looked like a raven?ing beast who had stuffed himself and could no longer swallow his food. Disfigured by anxiety, by the menace of the poison now flowing abundantly through his veins, by his desperate and diabolical determination, the venerable figure of the old man now seemed dis?gusting and grotesque. At other moments he might have inspired laughter, but we, too, were reduced to the condition of animals, dogs stalking their quarry.
When the gallant Colombian and his escort arrived at the Broadway address
When the gallant Colombian and his escort arrived at the Broadway address, they were held in an anteroom for half an hour, and then admitted into a well-equipped office where a distinguished looking man, with a smooth face, wrote at a desk. General Falcon was presented to the Secretary of War of the United States, and his mission made known by his old friend, Mr,http://www.fakeuggsforsales.com/. Kelley.
"Ah - Colombia!" said the Secretary, significantly, when he was made to understand; "I'm afraid there will be a little difficutly in that case. The President and I differ in our sympathies there. He prefers the established government, while I -" the secretary gave the General a mysterious but encouraging smile. "You, of course, know, General Falcon, that since the Tammany war, an act of Congress has been passed requiring all manufactured arms and ammunition exported from this country to pass through the War Department. Now, if I can do anything for you I will be glad to do so to oblige my old friend, Mr. Kelley. But it must be in absolute secrecy, as the President, as I have said, does not regard favorably the efforts of your revolutionary party in Colombia. I will have my orderly bring a list of the available arms now in the warehouse."
The Secretary struck a bell, and an orderly with the letters A. D. T. on his cap stepped promptly into the room.
"Bring me Schedule B of the small arms inventory," said the Secretary.
The orderly quickly returned with a printed paper. The Secretary studied it closely.
"I find," he said, "that in Warehouse 9, of Government stores, there is shipment of 2,000 stands of Winchester rifles that were ordered by the Sultan of Morocco,http://www.rolexsubmarinerreplica1.com, who forgot to send the cash with his order. Our rule is that legal-tender must be paid down at the time of purchase. My dear Kelley, your friend, General Falcon, shall have this lot of arms, if he desires it, at the manufacturer's price. And you will forgive me, I am sure, if I curtail our interview. I am expecting the Japanese Minister and Charles Murphy every moment!"
As one result of this interview, the General was deeply grateful to his esteemed friend, Mr. Kelley. As another, the nimble Secretary of War was extremely busy during the next two days buying empty rifle cases and filling them with bricks, which were then stored in a warehouse rented for that purpose. As still another, when the General returned to the Hotel Espanol, Mrs. O'Brien went up to him, plucked a thread from his lapel, and said:
"Say, senor, I don't want to 'butt in,' but what does that monkey-faced, cat-eyed, rubber-necked tin horn tough want with you,ladies rolex datejusts?"
"Sangre de mi vida!" exclaimed the General. "Impossible it is that you speak of my good friend, Senor Kelley."
"Come into the summer garden,jeremy scott adidas," said Mrs. O'Brien. "I want to have a talk with you."
Let us suppose that an hour has elapsed.
"And you say," said the General, "that for the sum of $18,000 can be purchased the furnishment of the house and the lease of one year with this garden so lovely - so resembling unto the patios of my cara Colombia?"
"And dirt cheap at that," sighed the lady.
"Ah - Colombia!" said the Secretary, significantly, when he was made to understand; "I'm afraid there will be a little difficutly in that case. The President and I differ in our sympathies there. He prefers the established government, while I -" the secretary gave the General a mysterious but encouraging smile. "You, of course, know, General Falcon, that since the Tammany war, an act of Congress has been passed requiring all manufactured arms and ammunition exported from this country to pass through the War Department. Now, if I can do anything for you I will be glad to do so to oblige my old friend, Mr. Kelley. But it must be in absolute secrecy, as the President, as I have said, does not regard favorably the efforts of your revolutionary party in Colombia. I will have my orderly bring a list of the available arms now in the warehouse."
The Secretary struck a bell, and an orderly with the letters A. D. T. on his cap stepped promptly into the room.
"Bring me Schedule B of the small arms inventory," said the Secretary.
The orderly quickly returned with a printed paper. The Secretary studied it closely.
"I find," he said, "that in Warehouse 9, of Government stores, there is shipment of 2,000 stands of Winchester rifles that were ordered by the Sultan of Morocco,http://www.rolexsubmarinerreplica1.com, who forgot to send the cash with his order. Our rule is that legal-tender must be paid down at the time of purchase. My dear Kelley, your friend, General Falcon, shall have this lot of arms, if he desires it, at the manufacturer's price. And you will forgive me, I am sure, if I curtail our interview. I am expecting the Japanese Minister and Charles Murphy every moment!"
As one result of this interview, the General was deeply grateful to his esteemed friend, Mr. Kelley. As another, the nimble Secretary of War was extremely busy during the next two days buying empty rifle cases and filling them with bricks, which were then stored in a warehouse rented for that purpose. As still another, when the General returned to the Hotel Espanol, Mrs. O'Brien went up to him, plucked a thread from his lapel, and said:
"Say, senor, I don't want to 'butt in,' but what does that monkey-faced, cat-eyed, rubber-necked tin horn tough want with you,ladies rolex datejusts?"
"Sangre de mi vida!" exclaimed the General. "Impossible it is that you speak of my good friend, Senor Kelley."
"Come into the summer garden,jeremy scott adidas," said Mrs. O'Brien. "I want to have a talk with you."
Let us suppose that an hour has elapsed.
"And you say," said the General, "that for the sum of $18,000 can be purchased the furnishment of the house and the lease of one year with this garden so lovely - so resembling unto the patios of my cara Colombia?"
"And dirt cheap at that," sighed the lady.
They stood there thunderstruck
They stood there thunderstruck, chilled and trembling. They had simply heard that the young man was poorly; they had not imagined him to be seriously ill.
"Let me go to dress," said Mathieu; "I shall take the quarter-past ten o'clock train,fake uggs usa. I must go to kiss them."
Although Marianne was expecting her eleventh child before long, she decided to accompany her husband. It would have pained her to be unable to give this proof of affection to her cousins, who, all things considered, had treated Blaise and his young wife very kindly. Moreover, she was really grieved by the terrible catastrophe. So she and her husband, after distributing the day's work among the servants, set out for Janville station, which they reached just in time to catch the quarter-past ten o'clock train. It was already rolling on again when they recognized the Lepailleurs and their son Antonin in the very compartment where they were seated.
Seeing the Froments thus together in full dress, the miller imagined that they were going to a wedding, and when he learnt that they had a visit of condolence to make, he exclaimed: "Oh! so it's just the contrary. But no matter, it's an outing, a little diversion nevertheless."
Since Mathieu's victory, since the whole of the estate of Chantebled had been conquered and fertilized, Lepailleur had shown some respect for his bourgeois rival. Nevertheless,fake ugg delaine boots, although he could not deny the results hitherto obtained, he did not altogether surrender, but continued sneering, as if he expected that some rending of heaven or earth would take place to prove him in the right. He would not confess that he had made a mistake; he repeated that he knew the truth, and that folks would some day see plainly enough that a peasant's calling was the very worst calling there could be, since the dirty land had gone bankrupt and would yield nothing more. Besides, he held his revenge--that enclosure which he left barren,fake delaine ugg boots, uncultivated, by way of protest against the adjoining estate which it intersected. The thought of this made him ironical.
"Well," he resumed in his ridiculously vain, scoffing way, "we are going to Paris too. Yes, we are going to install this young gentleman there."
He pointed as he spoke to his son Antonin, now a tall, carroty fellow of eighteen, with an elongated head. A few light-colored bristles were already sprouting on his chin and cheeks, and he wore town attire, with a silk hat and gloves, and a bright blue necktie. After astonishing Janville by his success at school, he had displayed so much repugnance to manual work that his father had decided to make "a Parisian" of him.
"So it is decided; you have quite made up your mind?" asked Mathieu in a friendly way.
"Why, yes; why should I force him to toil and moil without the least hope of ever enriching himself? Neither my father nor I ever managed to put a copper by with that wretched old mill of ours. Why, the mill-stones wear away with rot more than with grinding corn. And the wretched fields, too, yield far more pebbles than crowns,fake uggs. And so, as he's now a scholar, he may as well try his fortune in Paris. There's nothing like city life to sharpen a man's wits."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)