The Balance
A YARN OF THE GOOD OLD DAYS OF BROAD TROUSERS AND HIGH NECKED JUMPERS
Introduction “Do you know,ugg bailey button triplet 1873 boots, I don’t think I can read mine. It’s rather unkind.” “Oh, Basil, you must.” “Please, Basil.” This always happened when Basil played paper games. “No, I can’t, look it’s all scrumbled up.” “Oh, Basil, dearest, do.” “Oh, Basil, please.” “Darling Basil, you must.” “No, I won’t. Imogen will be in a rage with me.” “No, she won’t, will you, Imogen?” “Imogen, tell him you won’t be in a rage with him.” “Basil, do read it please.” “Well, then,moncler jackets men, if you promise you won’t hate me”—and he smoothed out the piece of paper. “Flower—Cactus. “Drink—Rum. “Stuff—Baize,shox torch 2. “Furniture—Rocking-Horse. “Food—Venison. “Address—Dublin. “And Animal—Boa constrictor.” “Oh, Basil, how marvellous.” “Poor Adam, I never thought of him as Dublin, of course it’s perfect.” “Why Cactus?” “So phallic, my dear, and prickly.” “And such vulgar flowers.” “Boa constrictor is brilliant.” “Yes, his digestion you know.” “And can’t sting, only crush.” “And fascinates rabbits.” “I must draw a picture of Adam fascinating a rabbit,” and then, “Imogen, you’re not going?” “I must. I’m terribly sleepy. Don’t get drunk and wake me up, will you?” “Imogen, you are in a rage with me.” “My dear, I’m far too tired to be in a rage with anybody. Good night.” The door shut. “My dear, she’s furious.” “I knew she would be, you shouldn’t have made me read it.” “She’s been very odd all the evening, I consider.” “She told me she lunched with Adam before she came down.” “I expect she ate too much. One does with Adam, don’t you find?” “Just libido.” “But you know, I’m rather proud of that character all the same. I wonder why none of us ever thought of Dublin before.” “Basil, do you think Imogen can have been having an affaire with Adam, really?”
Circumstances NOTE.—No attempt, beyond the omission of some of the aspirates, has been made at a phonetic rendering of the speech of Gladys and Ada,Moncler outlet online store; they are the cook and house-parlourmaid from a small house in Earls Court, and it is to be supposed that they speak as such. The conversations in the film are deduced by the experienced picture-goer from the gestures of the actors; only those parts which appear in capitals are actual “captions.” THE COCKATRICE CLUB 2.30 A.M. A CENTRE OF LONDON NIGHT LIFE. The “Art title” shows a still life of a champagne bottle, glasses, and a comic mask—or is it yawning? “Oh, Gladys, it’s begun; I knew we’d be late.” “Never mind, dear, I can see the way. Oh, I say—I am sorry. Thought the seat was empty—really I did.” Erotic giggling and a slight struggle. “Give over, can’t you, and let me get by—saucy kid.” “’Ere you are, Gladys, there’s two seats ’ere.” “Well I never—tried to make me sit on ’is knee.” “Go on. I say, Gladys, what sort of picture is this—is it comic?” The screen is almost completely dark as though the film has been greatly over-exposed. Fitful but brilliant illumination reveals a large crowd dancing, talking and eating. “No, Ada—that’s lightning. I dare say it’s a desert storm. I see a picture like that the other day with Fred.”
2012年11月27日星期二
‘Did they
‘Did they?’
Judging from the number of cars, he thought, there were not many people at the club yet. He switched off his lights, and waited for Louise to move, but she just sat there with a clen-ched fist showing in the switchboard light ‘Well, dear, here we are,’ he said in the hearty voice that strangers took as a mark of stupidity. Louise said, ‘Do you think they all know by this time?’
‘Know what?’
‘That you’ve been passed over.’
‘My dear, I thought we’d finished with all that. Look at all the generals who’ve been passed over since 1940. They won’t bother about a deputy-commissioner.’
She said, ‘But they don’t like me.’
Poor Louise, he thought, it is terrible not to be liked, and his mind went back to his own experience in that early tour when the blacks had slashed his tyres and written insults on his car. ‘Dear, how absurd you are. I’ve never known anyone with so many friends.’ He ran unconvincingly on. ‘Mrs Halifax, Mrs Castle ,fake uggs...’ and then decided it was better after all not to list them.
‘They’ll all be waiting there,’ she said, ‘ just waiting for me to walk in ... I never wanted to come to the club tonight. Let’s go home.’
‘We can’t. Here’s Mrs Castle’s car arriving.’ He tried to laugh. ‘We’re trapped, Louise.’ He saw the fist open and close, the damp inefficient powder lying like snow in the ridges of the knuckles. ‘Oh, Ticki, Ticki,’ she said, ‘you won’t leave me ever, will you? I haven’t got any friends - not since the Tom Barlows went away.’ He lifted the moist hand and kissed the palm: he was bound by the pathos of her unattractiveness.
They walked side by side like a couple of policemen on duty into the lounge where Mrs Halifax was dealing out the library books. It is seldom that anything is quite so bad as one fears: there was no reason to believe that they had been the subject of conversation. ‘Goody, goody,’ Mrs Halifax called to them, ‘the new Clemence Dane’s arrived,Moncler Outlet.’ She was the most inoffensive woman in the station; she had long untidy hair, and one found hairpins inside the library books where she had marked her place. Scobie felt it quite safe to leave his wife in her company, for Mrs Halifax had no malice and no capacity for gossip; her memory was too bad for anything to lodge there for long: she read the same novels over and over again without knowing it.
Scobie joined a group on the verandah. Fellowes, the sani-tary inspector, was talking fiercely to Reith, the Chief Assistant Colonial Secretary, and a naval officer called Brigstock. ‘After all this is a club,’ he was saying, ‘not a railway refreshment-room.’ Ever since Fellowes had snatched his house, Scobie had done his best to like the man - it was one of the rules by which he set his life, to be a good loser. But sometimes he found it very hard to like Fellowes. The hot evening had not been good to him: the thin damp ginger hair, the small prickly moustache,replica louis vuitton handbags, the goosegog eyes, the scarlet cheeks,LINK, and the old Lancing tie. ‘Quite,’ said Brigstock, swaying slightly.
‘What’s the trouble?’ Scobie asked.
Judging from the number of cars, he thought, there were not many people at the club yet. He switched off his lights, and waited for Louise to move, but she just sat there with a clen-ched fist showing in the switchboard light ‘Well, dear, here we are,’ he said in the hearty voice that strangers took as a mark of stupidity. Louise said, ‘Do you think they all know by this time?’
‘Know what?’
‘That you’ve been passed over.’
‘My dear, I thought we’d finished with all that. Look at all the generals who’ve been passed over since 1940. They won’t bother about a deputy-commissioner.’
She said, ‘But they don’t like me.’
Poor Louise, he thought, it is terrible not to be liked, and his mind went back to his own experience in that early tour when the blacks had slashed his tyres and written insults on his car. ‘Dear, how absurd you are. I’ve never known anyone with so many friends.’ He ran unconvincingly on. ‘Mrs Halifax, Mrs Castle ,fake uggs...’ and then decided it was better after all not to list them.
‘They’ll all be waiting there,’ she said, ‘ just waiting for me to walk in ... I never wanted to come to the club tonight. Let’s go home.’
‘We can’t. Here’s Mrs Castle’s car arriving.’ He tried to laugh. ‘We’re trapped, Louise.’ He saw the fist open and close, the damp inefficient powder lying like snow in the ridges of the knuckles. ‘Oh, Ticki, Ticki,’ she said, ‘you won’t leave me ever, will you? I haven’t got any friends - not since the Tom Barlows went away.’ He lifted the moist hand and kissed the palm: he was bound by the pathos of her unattractiveness.
They walked side by side like a couple of policemen on duty into the lounge where Mrs Halifax was dealing out the library books. It is seldom that anything is quite so bad as one fears: there was no reason to believe that they had been the subject of conversation. ‘Goody, goody,’ Mrs Halifax called to them, ‘the new Clemence Dane’s arrived,Moncler Outlet.’ She was the most inoffensive woman in the station; she had long untidy hair, and one found hairpins inside the library books where she had marked her place. Scobie felt it quite safe to leave his wife in her company, for Mrs Halifax had no malice and no capacity for gossip; her memory was too bad for anything to lodge there for long: she read the same novels over and over again without knowing it.
Scobie joined a group on the verandah. Fellowes, the sani-tary inspector, was talking fiercely to Reith, the Chief Assistant Colonial Secretary, and a naval officer called Brigstock. ‘After all this is a club,’ he was saying, ‘not a railway refreshment-room.’ Ever since Fellowes had snatched his house, Scobie had done his best to like the man - it was one of the rules by which he set his life, to be a good loser. But sometimes he found it very hard to like Fellowes. The hot evening had not been good to him: the thin damp ginger hair, the small prickly moustache,replica louis vuitton handbags, the goosegog eyes, the scarlet cheeks,LINK, and the old Lancing tie. ‘Quite,’ said Brigstock, swaying slightly.
‘What’s the trouble?’ Scobie asked.
2012年11月25日星期日
Edward fell--that is
Edward fell--that is, he sat still; sat with a conscience which was not satisfied, but which was overpowered by circumstances.
Meantime a stranger, who looked like an amateur detective gotten up as an impossible English earl, had been watching the evening's proceedings with manifest interest, and with a contented expression in his face; and he had been privately commenting to himself. He was now soliloquising somewhat like this: 'None of the Eighteen are bidding; that is not satisfactory; I must change that--the dramatic unities require it; they must buy the sack they tried to steal; they must pay a heavy price, too--some of them are rich. And another thing, when I make a mistake in Hadleyburg nature the man that puts that error upon me is entitled to a high honorarium, and some one must pay. This poor old Richards has brought my judgment to shame; he is an honest man:--I don't understand it, but I acknowledge it. Yes, he saw my deuces--AND with a straight flush, and by rights the pot is his. And it shall be a jack-pot, too, if I can manage it. He disappointed me, but let that pass."
He was watching the bidding. At a thousand, the market broke: the prices tumbled swiftly. He waited--and still watched. One competitor dropped out; then another, and another. He put in a bid or two now. When the bids had sunk to ten dollars, he added a five; some one raised him a three; he waited a moment, then flung in a fifty-dollar jump, and the sack was his--at $1,282. The house broke out in cheers--then stopped; for he was on his feet, and had lifted his hand. He began to speak.
"I desire to say a word,shox torch 2, and ask a favour. I am a speculator in rarities, and I have dealings with persons interested in numismatics all over the world. I can make a profit on this purchase, just as it stands; but there is a way, if I can get your approval, whereby I can make every one of these leaden twenty-dollar pieces worth its face in gold, and perhaps more. Grant me that approval, and I will give part of my gains to your Mr. Richards, whose invulnerable probity you have so justly and so cordially recognised tonight; his share shall be ten thousand dollars, and I will hand him the money to-morrow. [Great applause from the house. But the "invulnerable probity" made the Richardses blush prettily; however, it went for modesty, and did no harm.] If you will pass my proposition by a good majority--I would like a two-thirds vote--I will regard that as the town's consent, and that is all I ask. Rarities are always helped by any device which will rouse curiosity and compel remark. Now if I may have your permission to stamp upon the faces of each of these ostensible coins the names of the eighteen gentlemen who--"
Nine-tenths of the audience were on their feet in a moment--dog and all--and the proposition was carried with a whirlwind of approving applause and laughter.
They sat down, and all the Symbols except "Dr." Clay Harkness got up, violently protesting against the proposed outrage, and threatening to -
"I beg you not to threaten me," said the stranger calmly. "I know my legal rights, and am not accustomed to being frightened at bluster,homepage." [Applause.] He sat down. "Dr." Harkness saw an opportunity here. He was one of the two very rich men of the place, and Pinkerton was the other. Harkness was proprietor of a mint; that is to say, a popular patent medicine. He was running for the Legislature on one ticket, and Pinkerton on the other. It was a close race and a hot one, and getting hotter every day,link. Both had strong appetites for money; each had bought a great tract of land,cheap designer handbags, with a purpose; there was going to be a new railway, and each wanted to be in the Legislature and help locate the route to his own advantage; a single vote might make the decision, and with it two or three fortunes. The stake was large, and Harkness was a daring speculator. He was sitting close to the stranger. He leaned over while one or another of the other Symbols was entertaining the house with protests and appeals, and asked, in a whisper,
Meantime a stranger, who looked like an amateur detective gotten up as an impossible English earl, had been watching the evening's proceedings with manifest interest, and with a contented expression in his face; and he had been privately commenting to himself. He was now soliloquising somewhat like this: 'None of the Eighteen are bidding; that is not satisfactory; I must change that--the dramatic unities require it; they must buy the sack they tried to steal; they must pay a heavy price, too--some of them are rich. And another thing, when I make a mistake in Hadleyburg nature the man that puts that error upon me is entitled to a high honorarium, and some one must pay. This poor old Richards has brought my judgment to shame; he is an honest man:--I don't understand it, but I acknowledge it. Yes, he saw my deuces--AND with a straight flush, and by rights the pot is his. And it shall be a jack-pot, too, if I can manage it. He disappointed me, but let that pass."
He was watching the bidding. At a thousand, the market broke: the prices tumbled swiftly. He waited--and still watched. One competitor dropped out; then another, and another. He put in a bid or two now. When the bids had sunk to ten dollars, he added a five; some one raised him a three; he waited a moment, then flung in a fifty-dollar jump, and the sack was his--at $1,282. The house broke out in cheers--then stopped; for he was on his feet, and had lifted his hand. He began to speak.
"I desire to say a word,shox torch 2, and ask a favour. I am a speculator in rarities, and I have dealings with persons interested in numismatics all over the world. I can make a profit on this purchase, just as it stands; but there is a way, if I can get your approval, whereby I can make every one of these leaden twenty-dollar pieces worth its face in gold, and perhaps more. Grant me that approval, and I will give part of my gains to your Mr. Richards, whose invulnerable probity you have so justly and so cordially recognised tonight; his share shall be ten thousand dollars, and I will hand him the money to-morrow. [Great applause from the house. But the "invulnerable probity" made the Richardses blush prettily; however, it went for modesty, and did no harm.] If you will pass my proposition by a good majority--I would like a two-thirds vote--I will regard that as the town's consent, and that is all I ask. Rarities are always helped by any device which will rouse curiosity and compel remark. Now if I may have your permission to stamp upon the faces of each of these ostensible coins the names of the eighteen gentlemen who--"
Nine-tenths of the audience were on their feet in a moment--dog and all--and the proposition was carried with a whirlwind of approving applause and laughter.
They sat down, and all the Symbols except "Dr." Clay Harkness got up, violently protesting against the proposed outrage, and threatening to -
"I beg you not to threaten me," said the stranger calmly. "I know my legal rights, and am not accustomed to being frightened at bluster,homepage." [Applause.] He sat down. "Dr." Harkness saw an opportunity here. He was one of the two very rich men of the place, and Pinkerton was the other. Harkness was proprietor of a mint; that is to say, a popular patent medicine. He was running for the Legislature on one ticket, and Pinkerton on the other. It was a close race and a hot one, and getting hotter every day,link. Both had strong appetites for money; each had bought a great tract of land,cheap designer handbags, with a purpose; there was going to be a new railway, and each wanted to be in the Legislature and help locate the route to his own advantage; a single vote might make the decision, and with it two or three fortunes. The stake was large, and Harkness was a daring speculator. He was sitting close to the stranger. He leaned over while one or another of the other Symbols was entertaining the house with protests and appeals, and asked, in a whisper,
‘May I turn off the wireless
‘May I turn off the wireless, nanny?’
‘Why, of course; I didn’t notice it was on, in the pleasure of’ seeing you. What have you done to your hair?’
‘I know it’s terrible. I must get all that put right now I’m back. Darling nanny.’ As we sat there talking, and I saw Cordelia’s fond eyes on all of us, I began to realize that she, too, had a beauty of her own.
‘I saw Sebastian last month.’
‘What a time he’s been gone! Was he quite well?’
‘Not very. That’s why I went. It’s quite near you know from Spain to Tunis. He’s with the monks there.’
‘I hope they look- after him properly. I expect they find him a regular handful. He always sends to me at Christmas, but it’s not the same as having him home. Why you must all always be going abroad I never did understand. Just like his Lordship,Fake Designer Handbags. When there was that talk about going to war with Munich, I said to myself, “There’s Cordelia and Sebastian and his Lordship all abroad; that’ll be very awkward for them.” ‘ ‘I wanted him to come home with me, but he wouldn’t. He’s got a beard now, you know, and he’s very religious.’
‘That I won’t believe, not even if I see it. He was always a little heathen. Brideshead was one for church, not Sebastian. And a beard, only fancy; such a nice fair skin as he had; always looked clean though he’d not been near water all day, while Brideshead there was no doing anything with, scrub as you might.’
‘It’s frightening,’ Julia once said, ‘to think how completely you have forgotten Sebastian.’
‘He was the forerunner.’
‘That’s what you said ‘in the storm. I’ve thought since, perhaps I am only a forerunner, too.’
‘Perhaps,’ I thought, while her words still hung in the air between us like a wisp of tobacco smoke - a thought to fade and vanish like, smoke without a trace - ‘perhaps all our loves are merely hints and symbols; vagabond-language scrawled on gate-posts and paving-stones along the weary road that other have tramped before us; perhaps you and I are types and this sadness which sometimes falls between us springs from disappointment in,fake uggs for sale. our search, each straining through and beyond the other, snatching a glimpse now and then of the shadow which turns the corner always a pace or two ahead of us,fake uggs boots.’
I had not forgotten Sebastian,replica gucci wallets. He was with me daily in Julia; or rather it was Julia I had known in him, in those distant Arcadian days.
‘That’s cold comfort for a girl,’ she said when I tried to explain. ‘How do I know I shan’t suddenly turn out to be somebody else? It’s an easy way to chuck.’ I had not forgotten Sebastian; every stone of the house had a memory of him, and hearing him spoken of by Cordelia as someone she had seen a month ago, my lost friend filled my thoughts. When we left the nursery, I said, ‘I want to hear all about Sebastian.’ ‘Tomorrow. It’s a long story.’
And next day, walking through the windswept park, she told me:
‘I heard he was dying, ‘ she said. ‘A journalist in Burgos told me, who’d just arrived from North Africa. A down-and-out called Flyte, who people said was an English lord, whom the fathers had found starving and taken in at a monastery near Carthage. That was how the story reached me. I knew it couldn’t be quite true - however little we did for Sebastian, he at least got his money sent him - but I started off at once.
‘Why, of course; I didn’t notice it was on, in the pleasure of’ seeing you. What have you done to your hair?’
‘I know it’s terrible. I must get all that put right now I’m back. Darling nanny.’ As we sat there talking, and I saw Cordelia’s fond eyes on all of us, I began to realize that she, too, had a beauty of her own.
‘I saw Sebastian last month.’
‘What a time he’s been gone! Was he quite well?’
‘Not very. That’s why I went. It’s quite near you know from Spain to Tunis. He’s with the monks there.’
‘I hope they look- after him properly. I expect they find him a regular handful. He always sends to me at Christmas, but it’s not the same as having him home. Why you must all always be going abroad I never did understand. Just like his Lordship,Fake Designer Handbags. When there was that talk about going to war with Munich, I said to myself, “There’s Cordelia and Sebastian and his Lordship all abroad; that’ll be very awkward for them.” ‘ ‘I wanted him to come home with me, but he wouldn’t. He’s got a beard now, you know, and he’s very religious.’
‘That I won’t believe, not even if I see it. He was always a little heathen. Brideshead was one for church, not Sebastian. And a beard, only fancy; such a nice fair skin as he had; always looked clean though he’d not been near water all day, while Brideshead there was no doing anything with, scrub as you might.’
‘It’s frightening,’ Julia once said, ‘to think how completely you have forgotten Sebastian.’
‘He was the forerunner.’
‘That’s what you said ‘in the storm. I’ve thought since, perhaps I am only a forerunner, too.’
‘Perhaps,’ I thought, while her words still hung in the air between us like a wisp of tobacco smoke - a thought to fade and vanish like, smoke without a trace - ‘perhaps all our loves are merely hints and symbols; vagabond-language scrawled on gate-posts and paving-stones along the weary road that other have tramped before us; perhaps you and I are types and this sadness which sometimes falls between us springs from disappointment in,fake uggs for sale. our search, each straining through and beyond the other, snatching a glimpse now and then of the shadow which turns the corner always a pace or two ahead of us,fake uggs boots.’
I had not forgotten Sebastian,replica gucci wallets. He was with me daily in Julia; or rather it was Julia I had known in him, in those distant Arcadian days.
‘That’s cold comfort for a girl,’ she said when I tried to explain. ‘How do I know I shan’t suddenly turn out to be somebody else? It’s an easy way to chuck.’ I had not forgotten Sebastian; every stone of the house had a memory of him, and hearing him spoken of by Cordelia as someone she had seen a month ago, my lost friend filled my thoughts. When we left the nursery, I said, ‘I want to hear all about Sebastian.’ ‘Tomorrow. It’s a long story.’
And next day, walking through the windswept park, she told me:
‘I heard he was dying, ‘ she said. ‘A journalist in Burgos told me, who’d just arrived from North Africa. A down-and-out called Flyte, who people said was an English lord, whom the fathers had found starving and taken in at a monastery near Carthage. That was how the story reached me. I knew it couldn’t be quite true - however little we did for Sebastian, he at least got his money sent him - but I started off at once.
2012年11月22日星期四
Scramble mine
"Scramble mine," said Danny.
After breakfast he dressed himself in the Sabbath morning costume of the Canal Street importing house dray chauffeur - frock coat, striped trousers, patent leathers, gilded trace chain across front of vest, and wing collar, rolled-brim derby and butterfly bow from Schonstein's (between Fourteenth Street and Tony's fruit stand) Saturday night sale.
"You'll be goin' out this day, of course, Danny," said old man McCree, a little wistfully. "'Tis a kind of holiday, they say. Well, it's fine spring weather. I can feel it in the air."
"Why should I not be going out?" demanded Danny in his grumpiest chest tones. "Should I stay in? Am I as good as a horse? One day of rest my team has a week. Who earns the money for the rent and the breakfast you've just eat, I'd like to know? Answer me that!"
"All right, lad," said the old man. "I'm not complainin'. While me two eyes was good there was nothin' better to my mind than a Sunday out. There's a smell of turf and burnin' brush comin' in the windy. I have me tobaccy. A good fine day and rist to ye, lad. Times I wish your mother had larned to read, so I might hear the rest about the hippopotamus - but let that be."
"Now, what is this foolishness he talks of hippopotamuses?" asked Danny of his mother, as he passed through the kitchen. "Have you been taking him to the Zoo? And for what?"
"I have not," said Mrs. McCree. "He sets by the windy all day. 'Tis little recreation a blind man among the poor gets at all. I'm thinkin' they wander in their minds at times. One day he talks of grease without stoppin' for the most of an hour. I looks to see if there's lard burnin' in the fryin' pan. There is not. He says I do not understand. 'Tis weary days, Sundays, and holidays and all, for a blind man, Danny. There was no better nor stronger than him when he had his two eyes. 'Tis a fine day, son. Injoy yeself ag'inst the morning. There will be cold supper at six."
"Have you heard any talk of a hippopotamus?" asked Danny of Mike, the janitor, as he went out the door downstairs.
"I have not," said Mike, pulling his shirtsleeves higher. "But 'tis the only subject in the animal, natural and illegal lists of outrages that I've not been compained to about these two days. See the landlord. Or else move out if ye like. Have ye hippopotamuses in the lease? No, then?"
"It was the old man who spoke of it," said Danny. "Likely there's nothing in it."
Danny walked up the street to the Avenue and then struck northward into the heart of the district where Easter - modern Easter, in new, bright raiment - leads the pascal march. Out of towering brown churches came the blithe music of anthems from the choirs. The broad sidewalks were moving parterres of living flowers - so it seemed when your eye looked upon the Easter girl.
Gentlemen, frock-coated, silk-hatted, gardeniaed, sustained the background of the tradition. Children carried lilies in their hands. The windows of the brownstone mansions were packed with the most opulent creations of flora, the sister of the Lady of the Lilies.
After breakfast he dressed himself in the Sabbath morning costume of the Canal Street importing house dray chauffeur - frock coat, striped trousers, patent leathers, gilded trace chain across front of vest, and wing collar, rolled-brim derby and butterfly bow from Schonstein's (between Fourteenth Street and Tony's fruit stand) Saturday night sale.
"You'll be goin' out this day, of course, Danny," said old man McCree, a little wistfully. "'Tis a kind of holiday, they say. Well, it's fine spring weather. I can feel it in the air."
"Why should I not be going out?" demanded Danny in his grumpiest chest tones. "Should I stay in? Am I as good as a horse? One day of rest my team has a week. Who earns the money for the rent and the breakfast you've just eat, I'd like to know? Answer me that!"
"All right, lad," said the old man. "I'm not complainin'. While me two eyes was good there was nothin' better to my mind than a Sunday out. There's a smell of turf and burnin' brush comin' in the windy. I have me tobaccy. A good fine day and rist to ye, lad. Times I wish your mother had larned to read, so I might hear the rest about the hippopotamus - but let that be."
"Now, what is this foolishness he talks of hippopotamuses?" asked Danny of his mother, as he passed through the kitchen. "Have you been taking him to the Zoo? And for what?"
"I have not," said Mrs. McCree. "He sets by the windy all day. 'Tis little recreation a blind man among the poor gets at all. I'm thinkin' they wander in their minds at times. One day he talks of grease without stoppin' for the most of an hour. I looks to see if there's lard burnin' in the fryin' pan. There is not. He says I do not understand. 'Tis weary days, Sundays, and holidays and all, for a blind man, Danny. There was no better nor stronger than him when he had his two eyes. 'Tis a fine day, son. Injoy yeself ag'inst the morning. There will be cold supper at six."
"Have you heard any talk of a hippopotamus?" asked Danny of Mike, the janitor, as he went out the door downstairs.
"I have not," said Mike, pulling his shirtsleeves higher. "But 'tis the only subject in the animal, natural and illegal lists of outrages that I've not been compained to about these two days. See the landlord. Or else move out if ye like. Have ye hippopotamuses in the lease? No, then?"
"It was the old man who spoke of it," said Danny. "Likely there's nothing in it."
Danny walked up the street to the Avenue and then struck northward into the heart of the district where Easter - modern Easter, in new, bright raiment - leads the pascal march. Out of towering brown churches came the blithe music of anthems from the choirs. The broad sidewalks were moving parterres of living flowers - so it seemed when your eye looked upon the Easter girl.
Gentlemen, frock-coated, silk-hatted, gardeniaed, sustained the background of the tradition. Children carried lilies in their hands. The windows of the brownstone mansions were packed with the most opulent creations of flora, the sister of the Lady of the Lilies.
After I clean the kitchen
After I clean the kitchen, I go in the formal living room. I stop in the doorway and give that grizzly bear a good long stare. He’s seven feet tall and baring his teeth. His claws are long, curled, witchy-looking. At his feet lays a bone-handled hunting knife. I get closer and see his fur’s nappy with dust. There’s a cobweb between his jaws.
First, I swat at the dust with my broom, but it’s thick, matted up in his fur. All this does is move the dust around. So I take a cloth and try and wipe him down, but I squawk every time that wiry hair touches my hand. White people. I mean, I have cleaned everything from refrigerators to rear ends but what makes that lady think I know how to clean a damn grizzly bear?
I go get the Hoover. I suck the dirt off and except for a few spots where I sucked too hard and thinned him, I think it worked out pretty good.
After I’m done with the bear, I dust the fancy books nobody reads, the Confederate coat buttons, the silver pistol. On a table is a gold picture frame of Miss Celia and Mister Johnny at the altar and I look close to see what kind of man he is. I’m hoping he’s fat and short-legged in case it comes to running, but he’s not anywhere close. He’s strong, tall, thick. And he’s no stranger either. Lord. He’s the one who went steady with Miss Hilly all those years when I first worked for Miss Walters. I never met him, but I saw him enough times to be sure. I shiver, my fears tripling. Because that alone says more about that man than anything.
AT ONE O’CLOCK, Miss Celia comes in the kitchen and says she’s ready for her first cooking lesson. She settles on a stool. She’s wearing a tight red sweater and a red skirt and enough makeup to scare a hooker.
“What you know how to cook already?” I ask.
She thinks this over, wrinkling her forehead. “Maybe we could just start at the beginning.”
“Must be something you know. What your mama teach you growing up?”
She looks down at the webby feet of her panty hose, says, “I can cook corn pone.”
I can’t help but laugh. “What else you know how to do sides corn pone?”
“I can boil potatoes.” Her voice drops even quieter. “And I can do grits. We didn’t have electric current out where I lived. But I’m ready to learn right. On a real stovetop.”
Lord. I’ve never met a white person worse off than me except for crazy Mister Wally, lives behind the Canton feed store and eats the cat food.
“You been feeding your husband grits and corn pone ever day?”
Miss Celia nods. “But you’ll teach me to cook right, won’t you?”
“I’ll try,” I say, even though I’ve never told a white woman what to do and I don’t really know how to start. I pull up my hose, think about it. Finally, I point to the can on the counter.
“I reckon if there’s anything you ought a know about cooking, it’s this.”
“That’s just lard, ain’t it?”
“No, it ain’t just lard,” I say. “It’s the most important invention in the kitchen since jarred mayonnaise.”
“What’s so special about”—she wrinkles her nose at it—“pig fat?”
“Ain’t pig, it’s vegetable.” Who in this world doesn’t know what Crisco is? “You don’t have a clue of all the things you can do with this here can.”
First, I swat at the dust with my broom, but it’s thick, matted up in his fur. All this does is move the dust around. So I take a cloth and try and wipe him down, but I squawk every time that wiry hair touches my hand. White people. I mean, I have cleaned everything from refrigerators to rear ends but what makes that lady think I know how to clean a damn grizzly bear?
I go get the Hoover. I suck the dirt off and except for a few spots where I sucked too hard and thinned him, I think it worked out pretty good.
After I’m done with the bear, I dust the fancy books nobody reads, the Confederate coat buttons, the silver pistol. On a table is a gold picture frame of Miss Celia and Mister Johnny at the altar and I look close to see what kind of man he is. I’m hoping he’s fat and short-legged in case it comes to running, but he’s not anywhere close. He’s strong, tall, thick. And he’s no stranger either. Lord. He’s the one who went steady with Miss Hilly all those years when I first worked for Miss Walters. I never met him, but I saw him enough times to be sure. I shiver, my fears tripling. Because that alone says more about that man than anything.
AT ONE O’CLOCK, Miss Celia comes in the kitchen and says she’s ready for her first cooking lesson. She settles on a stool. She’s wearing a tight red sweater and a red skirt and enough makeup to scare a hooker.
“What you know how to cook already?” I ask.
She thinks this over, wrinkling her forehead. “Maybe we could just start at the beginning.”
“Must be something you know. What your mama teach you growing up?”
She looks down at the webby feet of her panty hose, says, “I can cook corn pone.”
I can’t help but laugh. “What else you know how to do sides corn pone?”
“I can boil potatoes.” Her voice drops even quieter. “And I can do grits. We didn’t have electric current out where I lived. But I’m ready to learn right. On a real stovetop.”
Lord. I’ve never met a white person worse off than me except for crazy Mister Wally, lives behind the Canton feed store and eats the cat food.
“You been feeding your husband grits and corn pone ever day?”
Miss Celia nods. “But you’ll teach me to cook right, won’t you?”
“I’ll try,” I say, even though I’ve never told a white woman what to do and I don’t really know how to start. I pull up my hose, think about it. Finally, I point to the can on the counter.
“I reckon if there’s anything you ought a know about cooking, it’s this.”
“That’s just lard, ain’t it?”
“No, it ain’t just lard,” I say. “It’s the most important invention in the kitchen since jarred mayonnaise.”
“What’s so special about”—she wrinkles her nose at it—“pig fat?”
“Ain’t pig, it’s vegetable.” Who in this world doesn’t know what Crisco is? “You don’t have a clue of all the things you can do with this here can.”
2012年11月21日星期三
Nodding signboards had scarcely been taken down when the demolition crews of the Narlikar women move
Nodding signboards had scarcely been taken down when the demolition crews of the Narlikar women moved in; Buckingham Villa was enveloped in the tumultuous dust of the dying palaces of William Methwold. Concealed by dust from Warden Road below, we were nevertheless still vulnerable to telephones; and it was the telephone which informed us, in the tremulous voice of my aunt Pia, of the suicide of my beloved uncle Hanif. Deprived of the income he had received from Homi Catrack, my uncle had taken his booming voice and his obsessions with hearts and reality up to the roof of his Marine Drive apartment block; he had stepped out into the evening sea-breeze, frightening the beggars so much (when he fell) that they gave up pretending to be blind and ran away yelling ... in death as in life, Hanif Aziz espoused the cause of truth and put illusion to flight. He was nearly thirty-four years old. Murder breeds death; by killing Homi Catrack, I had killed my uncle, too. It was my fault; and the dying wasn't over yet.
The family gathered at Buckingham Villa: from Agra, Aadam Aziz and Reverend Mother; from Delhi, my uncle Mustapha, the Civil Servant who had polished the art of agreeing with his superiors to the point at which they had stopped hearing him, which is why he never got promoted; and his half-Irani wife Sonia and their children who had been so thoroughly beaten into insignificance that I can't even remember how many of them there were; and from Pakistan, bitter Alia, and even General Zulfikar and my aunt Emerald, who brought twenty-seven pieces of luggage and two servants, and never stopped looking at their watches and inquiring about the date. Their son Zafar also came. And, to complete the circle, my mother brought Pia to stay in our house, 'at least for the forty-day mourning period, my sister.'
For forty days, we were besieged by the dust; dust creeping under the wet towels we placed around all the windows, dust slyly following in each mourning arrival, dust filtering through the very walls to hang like a shapeless wraith in the air,' dust deadening the sounds of formal ululation and also the deadly sniping of grieving kinsfolk; the remnants of Methwold's Estate settled on my grandmother and goaded her towards a great fury; they irritated the pinched nostrils of Punchinello-faced General Zulfikar and forced him to sneeze on to his chin. In the ghost-haze of the dust it sometimes seemed we could discern the shapes of the past, the mirage of Lila Sabarmati's pulverized pianola or the prison bars at the window of Toxy Catrack's cell; Dubash's nude statuette danced in dust-form through our chambers, and Sonny Ibrahim's bullfight-posters visited us as clouds. The Narlikar women had moved away while bulldozers did their work; we were alone inside the dust-storm, which gave us all the appearance of neglected furniture, as if we were chairs and tables which had been abandoned for decades without covering-sheets; we looked like the ghosts of ourselves. We were a dynasty born out of a nose, the aquiline monster on the face of Aadam Aziz, and the dust, entering our nostrils in our time of grief, broke down our reserve, eroded the barriers which permit families to survive; in the dust storm of the dying palaces things were said and seen and done from which none of us ever recovered.
The family gathered at Buckingham Villa: from Agra, Aadam Aziz and Reverend Mother; from Delhi, my uncle Mustapha, the Civil Servant who had polished the art of agreeing with his superiors to the point at which they had stopped hearing him, which is why he never got promoted; and his half-Irani wife Sonia and their children who had been so thoroughly beaten into insignificance that I can't even remember how many of them there were; and from Pakistan, bitter Alia, and even General Zulfikar and my aunt Emerald, who brought twenty-seven pieces of luggage and two servants, and never stopped looking at their watches and inquiring about the date. Their son Zafar also came. And, to complete the circle, my mother brought Pia to stay in our house, 'at least for the forty-day mourning period, my sister.'
For forty days, we were besieged by the dust; dust creeping under the wet towels we placed around all the windows, dust slyly following in each mourning arrival, dust filtering through the very walls to hang like a shapeless wraith in the air,' dust deadening the sounds of formal ululation and also the deadly sniping of grieving kinsfolk; the remnants of Methwold's Estate settled on my grandmother and goaded her towards a great fury; they irritated the pinched nostrils of Punchinello-faced General Zulfikar and forced him to sneeze on to his chin. In the ghost-haze of the dust it sometimes seemed we could discern the shapes of the past, the mirage of Lila Sabarmati's pulverized pianola or the prison bars at the window of Toxy Catrack's cell; Dubash's nude statuette danced in dust-form through our chambers, and Sonny Ibrahim's bullfight-posters visited us as clouds. The Narlikar women had moved away while bulldozers did their work; we were alone inside the dust-storm, which gave us all the appearance of neglected furniture, as if we were chairs and tables which had been abandoned for decades without covering-sheets; we looked like the ghosts of ourselves. We were a dynasty born out of a nose, the aquiline monster on the face of Aadam Aziz, and the dust, entering our nostrils in our time of grief, broke down our reserve, eroded the barriers which permit families to survive; in the dust storm of the dying palaces things were said and seen and done from which none of us ever recovered.
'By the Lord
'By the Lord, Sir,' cried the Major, bursting into speech at sight of the waiter, who was come to announce breakfast, 'it's an extraordinary thing to me that no one can have the honour and happiness of shooting all such beggars through the head without being brought to book for it. But here's an arm for Mrs Granger if she'll do J. B. the honour to accept it; and the greatest service Joe can render you, Ma'am, just now, is, to lead you into table!'
With this, the Major gave his arm to Edith; Mr Dombey led the way with Mrs Skewton; Mrs Carker went last, smiling on the party.
'I am quite rejoiced, Mr Carker,' said the lady-mother, at breakfast, after another approving survey of him through her glass, 'that you have timed your visit so happily, as to go with us to-day. It is the most enchanting expedition!'
'Any expedition would be enchanting in such society,' returned Carker; 'but I believe it is, in itself, full of interest.'
'Oh!' cried Mrs Skewton, with a faded little scream of rapture, 'the Castle is charming! - associations of the Middle Ages - and all that - which is so truly exquisite. Don't you dote upon the Middle Ages, Mr Carker?'
'Very much, indeed,' said Mr Carker.
'Such charming times!' cried Cleopatra. 'So full of faith! So vigorous and forcible! So picturesque! So perfectly removed from commonplace! Oh dear! If they would only leave us a little more of the poetry of existence in these terrible days!'
Mrs Skewton was looking sharp after Mr Dombey all the time she said this, who was looking at Edith: who was listening, but who never lifted up her eyes.
'We are dreadfully real, Mr Carker,' said Mrs Skewton; 'are we not?'
Few people had less reason to complain of their reality than Cleopatra, who had as much that was false about her as could well go to the composition of anybody with a real individual existence. But Mr Carker commiserated our reality nevertheless, and agreed that we were very hardly used in that regard.
'Pictures at the Castle, quite divine!' said Cleopatra. 'I hope you dote upon pictures?'
'I assure you, Mrs Skewton,' said Mr Dombey, with solemn encouragement of his Manager,knockoff handbags, 'that Carker has a very good taste for pictures; quite a natural power of appreciating them,moncler jackets men. He is a very creditable artist himself. He will be delighted, I am sure, with Mrs Granger's taste and skill.'
'Damme, Sir!' cried Major Bagstock,replica gucci wallets, 'my opinion is, that you're the admirable Carker, and can do anything.'
'Oh!' smiled Carker, with humility, 'you are much too sanguine, Major Bagstock. I can do very little. But Mr Dombey is so generous in his estimation of any trivial accomplishment a man like myself may find it almost necessary to acquire, and to which, in his very different sphere, he is far superior, that - ' Mr Carker shrugged his shoulders, deprecating further praise, and said no more.
All this time, Edith never raised her eyes, unless to glance towards her mother when that lady's fervent spirit shone forth in words. But as Carker ceased, she looked at Mr Dombey for a moment. For a moment only,Replica Designer Handbags; but with a transient gleam of scornful wonder on her face, not lost on one observer, who was smiling round the board.
With this, the Major gave his arm to Edith; Mr Dombey led the way with Mrs Skewton; Mrs Carker went last, smiling on the party.
'I am quite rejoiced, Mr Carker,' said the lady-mother, at breakfast, after another approving survey of him through her glass, 'that you have timed your visit so happily, as to go with us to-day. It is the most enchanting expedition!'
'Any expedition would be enchanting in such society,' returned Carker; 'but I believe it is, in itself, full of interest.'
'Oh!' cried Mrs Skewton, with a faded little scream of rapture, 'the Castle is charming! - associations of the Middle Ages - and all that - which is so truly exquisite. Don't you dote upon the Middle Ages, Mr Carker?'
'Very much, indeed,' said Mr Carker.
'Such charming times!' cried Cleopatra. 'So full of faith! So vigorous and forcible! So picturesque! So perfectly removed from commonplace! Oh dear! If they would only leave us a little more of the poetry of existence in these terrible days!'
Mrs Skewton was looking sharp after Mr Dombey all the time she said this, who was looking at Edith: who was listening, but who never lifted up her eyes.
'We are dreadfully real, Mr Carker,' said Mrs Skewton; 'are we not?'
Few people had less reason to complain of their reality than Cleopatra, who had as much that was false about her as could well go to the composition of anybody with a real individual existence. But Mr Carker commiserated our reality nevertheless, and agreed that we were very hardly used in that regard.
'Pictures at the Castle, quite divine!' said Cleopatra. 'I hope you dote upon pictures?'
'I assure you, Mrs Skewton,' said Mr Dombey, with solemn encouragement of his Manager,knockoff handbags, 'that Carker has a very good taste for pictures; quite a natural power of appreciating them,moncler jackets men. He is a very creditable artist himself. He will be delighted, I am sure, with Mrs Granger's taste and skill.'
'Damme, Sir!' cried Major Bagstock,replica gucci wallets, 'my opinion is, that you're the admirable Carker, and can do anything.'
'Oh!' smiled Carker, with humility, 'you are much too sanguine, Major Bagstock. I can do very little. But Mr Dombey is so generous in his estimation of any trivial accomplishment a man like myself may find it almost necessary to acquire, and to which, in his very different sphere, he is far superior, that - ' Mr Carker shrugged his shoulders, deprecating further praise, and said no more.
All this time, Edith never raised her eyes, unless to glance towards her mother when that lady's fervent spirit shone forth in words. But as Carker ceased, she looked at Mr Dombey for a moment. For a moment only,Replica Designer Handbags; but with a transient gleam of scornful wonder on her face, not lost on one observer, who was smiling round the board.
While Gerty was lost in the happy bustle which this announcement produced in her small household
While Gerty was lost in the happy bustle which this announcement produced in her small household, Selden was at one with her in thinking with intensity of Lily Bart. The case which had called him to Albany was not complicated enough to absorb all his attention, and he had the professional faculty of keeping a part of his mind free when its services were not needed. This part--which at the moment seemed dangerously like the whole--was filled to the brim with the sensations of the previous evening. Selden understood the symptoms: he recognized the fact that he was paying up,ugg bailey button triplet 1873 boots, as there had always been a chance of his having to pay up, for the voluntary exclusions of his past. He had meant to keep free from permanent ties, not from any poverty of feeling, but because, in a different way, he was, as much as Lily, the victim of his environment. There had been a germ of truth in his declaration to Gerty Farish that he had never wanted to marry a "nice" girl: the adjective connoting,moncler jackets men, in his cousin's vocabulary, certain utilitarian qualities which are apt to preclude the luxury of charm. Now it had been Selden's fate to have a charming mother: her graceful portrait, all smiles and Cashmere, still emitted a faded scent of the undefinable quality. His father was the kind of man who delights in a charming woman: who quotes her, stimulates her, and keeps her perennially charming. Neither one of the couple cared for money, but their disdain of it took the form of always spending a little more than was prudent. If their house was shabby,Replica Designer Handbags, it was exquisitely kept; if there were good books on the shelves there were also good dishes on the table. Selden senior had an eye for a picture, his wife an understanding of old lace; and both were so conscious of restraint and discrimination in buying that they never quite knew how it was that the bills mounted up.
Though many of Selden's friends would have called his parents poor, he had grown up in an atmosphere where restricted means were felt only as a check on aimless profusion: where the few possessions were so good that their rarity gave them a merited relief, and abstinence was combined with elegance in a way exemplified by Mrs. Selden's knack of wearing her old velvet as if it were new. A man has the advantage of being delivered early from the home point of view, and before Selden left college he had learned that there are as many different ways of going without money as of spending it. Unfortunately, he found no way as agreeable as that practised at home; and his views of womankind in especial were tinged by the remembrance of the one woman who had given him his sense of "values." It was from her that he inherited his detachment from the sumptuary side of life: the stoic's carelessness of material things, combined with the Epicurean's pleasure in them. Life shorn of either feeling appeared to him a diminished thing; and nowhere was the blending of the two ingredients so essential as in the character of a pretty woman.
It had always seemed to Selden that experience offered a great deal besides the sentimental adventure, yet he could vividly conceive of a love which should broaden and deepen till it became the central fact of life. What he could not accept, in his own case, was the makeshift alternative of a relation that should be less than this: that should leave some portions of his nature unsatisfied,Fake Designer Handbags, while it put an undue strain on others. He would not, in other words, yield to the growth of an affection which might appeal to pity yet leave the understanding untouched: sympathy should no more delude him than a trick of the eyes, the grace of helplessness than a curve of the cheek.
Though many of Selden's friends would have called his parents poor, he had grown up in an atmosphere where restricted means were felt only as a check on aimless profusion: where the few possessions were so good that their rarity gave them a merited relief, and abstinence was combined with elegance in a way exemplified by Mrs. Selden's knack of wearing her old velvet as if it were new. A man has the advantage of being delivered early from the home point of view, and before Selden left college he had learned that there are as many different ways of going without money as of spending it. Unfortunately, he found no way as agreeable as that practised at home; and his views of womankind in especial were tinged by the remembrance of the one woman who had given him his sense of "values." It was from her that he inherited his detachment from the sumptuary side of life: the stoic's carelessness of material things, combined with the Epicurean's pleasure in them. Life shorn of either feeling appeared to him a diminished thing; and nowhere was the blending of the two ingredients so essential as in the character of a pretty woman.
It had always seemed to Selden that experience offered a great deal besides the sentimental adventure, yet he could vividly conceive of a love which should broaden and deepen till it became the central fact of life. What he could not accept, in his own case, was the makeshift alternative of a relation that should be less than this: that should leave some portions of his nature unsatisfied,Fake Designer Handbags, while it put an undue strain on others. He would not, in other words, yield to the growth of an affection which might appeal to pity yet leave the understanding untouched: sympathy should no more delude him than a trick of the eyes, the grace of helplessness than a curve of the cheek.
2012年11月19日星期一
for example
So, for example, the child at the window whose account we read first—her fundamental lack of grasp of the situation is nicely caught. So too is the resolve in her that follows, and the sense of initiation into grown-up mysteries. We catch this young girl at the dawn of her selfhood. One is intrigued by her resolve to abandon the fairy stories and homemade folktales and plays she has been writing (how much nicer if we had the flavor of one) but she may have thrown the baby of fictional technique out with the folktale water. For all the fine rhythms and nice observations, nothing much happens after a beginning that has such promise. A young man and woman by a fountain, who clearly have a great deal of unresolved feeling between them, tussle over a Ming vase and break it. (More than one of us here thought Ming rather too priceless to take outdoors? Wouldn’t Sèvres or Nymphenburg suit your purpose?) The woman goes fully dressed into the fountain to retrieve the pieces. Wouldn’t it help you if the watching girl did not actually realize that the vase had broken,homepage? It would be all the more of a mystery to her that the woman submerges herself. So much might unfold from what you have—but you dedicate scores of pages to the quality of light and shade, and to random impressions. Then we have matters from the man’s view, then the woman’s—though we don’t really learn much that is fresh. Just more about the look and feel of things, and some irrelevant memories. The man and woman part, leaving a damp patch on the ground which rapidly evaporates—and there we have reached the end,moncler jackets women. This static quality does not serve your evident talent well.
If this girl has so fully misunderstood or been so wholly baffled by the strange little scene that has unfolded before her, how might it affect the lives of the two adults? Might she come between them in some disastrous fashion? Or bring them closer, either by design or accident? Might she innocently expose them somehow, to the young woman’s parents perhaps? They surely would not approve of a liaison between their eldest daughter and their charlady’s son. Might the young couple come to use her as a messenger?
In other words, rather than dwell for quite so long on the perceptions of each of the three figures, would it not be possible to set them before us with greater economy,fake uggs for sale, still keeping some of the vivid writing about light and stone and water which you do so well—but then move on to create some tension, some light and shade within the narrative itself. Your most sophisticated readers might be well up on the latest Bergsonian theories of consciousness, but I’m sure they retain a childlike desire to be told a story, to be held in suspense, to know what happens. Incidentally, from your description, the Bernini you refer to is the one in the Piazza Barberini, not the Piazza Navona.
Simply put, you need the backbone of a story. It may interest you to know that one of your avid readers was Mrs. Elizabeth Bowen. She picked up the bundle of typescript in an idle moment while passing through this office on her way to luncheon,Fake Designer Handbags, asked to take it home to read, and finished it that afternoon. Initially, she thought the prose “too full, too cloying” but with “redeeming shades of Dusty Answer” (which I wouldn’t have thought of at all). Then she was “hooked for a while” and finally she gave us some notes, which are, as it were, mulched into the above. You may feel perfectly satisfied with your pages as they stand, or our reservations may fill you with dismissive anger, or such despair you never want to look at the thing again. We sincerely hope not. Our wish is that you will take our remarks—which are given with sincere enthusiasm—as a basis for another draft.
If this girl has so fully misunderstood or been so wholly baffled by the strange little scene that has unfolded before her, how might it affect the lives of the two adults? Might she come between them in some disastrous fashion? Or bring them closer, either by design or accident? Might she innocently expose them somehow, to the young woman’s parents perhaps? They surely would not approve of a liaison between their eldest daughter and their charlady’s son. Might the young couple come to use her as a messenger?
In other words, rather than dwell for quite so long on the perceptions of each of the three figures, would it not be possible to set them before us with greater economy,fake uggs for sale, still keeping some of the vivid writing about light and stone and water which you do so well—but then move on to create some tension, some light and shade within the narrative itself. Your most sophisticated readers might be well up on the latest Bergsonian theories of consciousness, but I’m sure they retain a childlike desire to be told a story, to be held in suspense, to know what happens. Incidentally, from your description, the Bernini you refer to is the one in the Piazza Barberini, not the Piazza Navona.
Simply put, you need the backbone of a story. It may interest you to know that one of your avid readers was Mrs. Elizabeth Bowen. She picked up the bundle of typescript in an idle moment while passing through this office on her way to luncheon,Fake Designer Handbags, asked to take it home to read, and finished it that afternoon. Initially, she thought the prose “too full, too cloying” but with “redeeming shades of Dusty Answer” (which I wouldn’t have thought of at all). Then she was “hooked for a while” and finally she gave us some notes, which are, as it were, mulched into the above. You may feel perfectly satisfied with your pages as they stand, or our reservations may fill you with dismissive anger, or such despair you never want to look at the thing again. We sincerely hope not. Our wish is that you will take our remarks—which are given with sincere enthusiasm—as a basis for another draft.
2012年11月7日星期三
When all was in readiness
When all was in readiness,nike shox torch ii, with the two divisions of the Lakeville boys lined up at their respective machines, Mr. Bergman set fire to two of the shacks. In an instant they were enveloped in flames. Waiting until the fire was at its height, Mr. Bergman gave the word to start.
"Now, boys!" cried Bert to his men. "Show 'em how we do it!"
"Run! Run!" yelled Vincent, to his lads, "We want the chance to compete in the finals!"
With a rumble of the big wheels over the rough ground, the two chemical engines were hauled toward the blazes.
Chapter 19 Winning The Trumpet
Bert gave his lads the order to halt, when the engine was about fifty feet away from the burning shacks.
"Run out the hose!" he called to Tom Donnell. "The rest of you stand ready with the hooks, and, as soon as Tom has got her pretty near out, pull the boards apart so he can get out the last spark."
Quickly was the hose unreeled. Bert stood near the engine, ready to swing the lever and turn the valve wheel that would send the hot sulphuric acid into the soda water. Then, when there was a good head of gas accumulated in the cylinder, he would open another valve, and the fire-quenching fluid would spurt from the hose.
There was a hiss as the breaking of the glass holding the vitriol was followed by the instant generation of gas,fake uggs online store.
"Here she comes!" cried Bert, as he turned the valve.
A second later a white, foamy stream jetted from the nozzle, and sprayed into the midst of the blaze. The flames began to die down as if by magic.
But Vincent was not a second behind Bert in getting his machine into operation.
"Lively, boys!" he cried, and the hose was unreeled, the stream playing almost at the same instant as was Bert's.
The spectators set up a cheer. This was something few of them had seen. The chemical engines were proving what they could do. Whether the blaze at which Vincent's crew directed their stream was not as fierce as the other was not disclosed, but in spite of the fact that Bert's engine was the first in operation by a narrow margin, the blaze Vincent was fighting began to die down quicker.
"We'll win!" cried Vincent. "Our fire's out, and theirs is blazing good yet!"
A few seconds later, however, Tom Donnell had succeeded in taming the last of the leaping flames.
"Now, boys, tear her apart,shox torch 2!" ordered Bert, and the lads with the long hooks began scattering the still glowing embers of the boards that had formed the shack. As soon as they did so, parts of the shed not touched by the chemical, began to blaze.
"Douse her, Tom!" cried the young chief, and Tom did so with good effect.
Meanwhile Vincent's crowd, thinking they had put their fire out, had turned away, while Vincent shut off the valve that controlled the outlet from the tank,homepage. No sooner had this been done than the fire in their shack blazed up again.
"Look!" cried John Boll, one of Vincent's crew.
"Turn on the stream!" shouted several of the lads. Vincent tried to do so, but before he could work it the shack was blazing again, almost as fiercely as before. He had been too confident that the fire was out.
"Now, boys!" cried Bert to his men. "Show 'em how we do it!"
"Run! Run!" yelled Vincent, to his lads, "We want the chance to compete in the finals!"
With a rumble of the big wheels over the rough ground, the two chemical engines were hauled toward the blazes.
Chapter 19 Winning The Trumpet
Bert gave his lads the order to halt, when the engine was about fifty feet away from the burning shacks.
"Run out the hose!" he called to Tom Donnell. "The rest of you stand ready with the hooks, and, as soon as Tom has got her pretty near out, pull the boards apart so he can get out the last spark."
Quickly was the hose unreeled. Bert stood near the engine, ready to swing the lever and turn the valve wheel that would send the hot sulphuric acid into the soda water. Then, when there was a good head of gas accumulated in the cylinder, he would open another valve, and the fire-quenching fluid would spurt from the hose.
There was a hiss as the breaking of the glass holding the vitriol was followed by the instant generation of gas,fake uggs online store.
"Here she comes!" cried Bert, as he turned the valve.
A second later a white, foamy stream jetted from the nozzle, and sprayed into the midst of the blaze. The flames began to die down as if by magic.
But Vincent was not a second behind Bert in getting his machine into operation.
"Lively, boys!" he cried, and the hose was unreeled, the stream playing almost at the same instant as was Bert's.
The spectators set up a cheer. This was something few of them had seen. The chemical engines were proving what they could do. Whether the blaze at which Vincent's crew directed their stream was not as fierce as the other was not disclosed, but in spite of the fact that Bert's engine was the first in operation by a narrow margin, the blaze Vincent was fighting began to die down quicker.
"We'll win!" cried Vincent. "Our fire's out, and theirs is blazing good yet!"
A few seconds later, however, Tom Donnell had succeeded in taming the last of the leaping flames.
"Now, boys, tear her apart,shox torch 2!" ordered Bert, and the lads with the long hooks began scattering the still glowing embers of the boards that had formed the shack. As soon as they did so, parts of the shed not touched by the chemical, began to blaze.
"Douse her, Tom!" cried the young chief, and Tom did so with good effect.
Meanwhile Vincent's crowd, thinking they had put their fire out, had turned away, while Vincent shut off the valve that controlled the outlet from the tank,homepage. No sooner had this been done than the fire in their shack blazed up again.
"Look!" cried John Boll, one of Vincent's crew.
"Turn on the stream!" shouted several of the lads. Vincent tried to do so, but before he could work it the shack was blazing again, almost as fiercely as before. He had been too confident that the fire was out.
you debbil
"Leggo, you debbil!"
The green parrot, fuming in a rage compared to which nitric acid was a cream puff, was restored to its Spring-drinking owner.
"Lady, heah's de green demon."
"Pretty Polly. What made her little feathers all mussed up?"
The Wildcat returned to his exhausted mascot.
"'At green chicken's lucky does he git by widout gittin' his health an' stren'th mussed up befo' dis trip ends. At res', Lily, till I brings you some nutriment. Doggone ol' bird must have near wore you out. 'At's de way wid dem mil'tary commands. Res' yo'se'f, Lily, till Ah brings yo' brekfust."
"Blaa!" answered Lily, weakly.
The Wildcat detected a tone of hypocrisy,--something of false gratitude--in the mascot's reply. He returned from the dining car carrying two heads of lettuce for the mascot. He placed the lettuce under the nose of the recumbent goat, but Lily refused to eat.
"Fust time Ah eveh seed you slow up when de mess call blowed. How come?"
An instant later his roving eye discovered the "how come" of Lily's loss of appetite. In a dark corner of the linen closet he saw a dozen fragments of white cloth. He hauled them out, and the light revealed the hems of a covey of sheets and a half dozen pillow cases. Then the web of a home-spun disaster met his eye. From the lower shelf of the linen closet dangled the shredded legs of the trousers which the occupant of Compartment B had given him to be pressed.
"Goat, doggone you, come to 'tenshun! No wondeh you kain't eat lettuce, wid yo' insides crammed wid a ton ob linen an' half a pair ob pants fo' dessert. Me sympathizin' wid you, an' you an' de green chicken banquetin' all night on 'spensive raiment! 'Ceptin' foh havin' to scrub de flo', I'd barbecue de blood outen yo' veins heah an' now."
The sudden necessity of hiding the evidence confronted the Wildcat.
"By rights I ought to ram de rest ob de pants down yo' neck." The Wildcat picked up the ragged and frazzled trousers. A moment later he opened the door of the car platform and cast the remnants of Lily's banquet into the fleeting right-of-way.
"'Spect some boy find dese an' say, 'Whah at's de man whut de train cut de laigs off of?' 'At's his trouble,fake uggs boots. Me--Ah's Chicago bound wid a cahload ob trouble ob mah own. Main thing to do is to git off de train widout lettin' 'at boy in 'partment B know we's landed."
He discussed the disaster of the trousers with the Backslid Baptist.
"'At's de on'y way," the porter conceded. "When us gits in we fo'gits 'bout de boy widout de pants. Dey wuz his pants, Wilecat. Havin' no pants is his grief,mont blanc pens. He kin borrow some overalls f'm de cah cleaners,Discount UGG Boots, o' else he kin play he's a Injun an' roam nekked till de police gits him. Does us meet up wid de ol' Pullman 'spector Ah says 'No suh, Ah dunno how come.' 'At's 'at."
"Sho' don't crave words wid no 'spector," the Wildcat returned. "Dis porter business de best job in de world. Ridin' all de time, seem' de country--eatin' heavy, free ice wateh, gran' raiment,cheap designer handbags, talkin' to folks--No suh! Main thing Ah craves is to git hired by de Pullman boss. 'Spect Ah makes it all right, Baptis'?"
The green parrot, fuming in a rage compared to which nitric acid was a cream puff, was restored to its Spring-drinking owner.
"Lady, heah's de green demon."
"Pretty Polly. What made her little feathers all mussed up?"
The Wildcat returned to his exhausted mascot.
"'At green chicken's lucky does he git by widout gittin' his health an' stren'th mussed up befo' dis trip ends. At res', Lily, till I brings you some nutriment. Doggone ol' bird must have near wore you out. 'At's de way wid dem mil'tary commands. Res' yo'se'f, Lily, till Ah brings yo' brekfust."
"Blaa!" answered Lily, weakly.
The Wildcat detected a tone of hypocrisy,--something of false gratitude--in the mascot's reply. He returned from the dining car carrying two heads of lettuce for the mascot. He placed the lettuce under the nose of the recumbent goat, but Lily refused to eat.
"Fust time Ah eveh seed you slow up when de mess call blowed. How come?"
An instant later his roving eye discovered the "how come" of Lily's loss of appetite. In a dark corner of the linen closet he saw a dozen fragments of white cloth. He hauled them out, and the light revealed the hems of a covey of sheets and a half dozen pillow cases. Then the web of a home-spun disaster met his eye. From the lower shelf of the linen closet dangled the shredded legs of the trousers which the occupant of Compartment B had given him to be pressed.
"Goat, doggone you, come to 'tenshun! No wondeh you kain't eat lettuce, wid yo' insides crammed wid a ton ob linen an' half a pair ob pants fo' dessert. Me sympathizin' wid you, an' you an' de green chicken banquetin' all night on 'spensive raiment! 'Ceptin' foh havin' to scrub de flo', I'd barbecue de blood outen yo' veins heah an' now."
The sudden necessity of hiding the evidence confronted the Wildcat.
"By rights I ought to ram de rest ob de pants down yo' neck." The Wildcat picked up the ragged and frazzled trousers. A moment later he opened the door of the car platform and cast the remnants of Lily's banquet into the fleeting right-of-way.
"'Spect some boy find dese an' say, 'Whah at's de man whut de train cut de laigs off of?' 'At's his trouble,fake uggs boots. Me--Ah's Chicago bound wid a cahload ob trouble ob mah own. Main thing to do is to git off de train widout lettin' 'at boy in 'partment B know we's landed."
He discussed the disaster of the trousers with the Backslid Baptist.
"'At's de on'y way," the porter conceded. "When us gits in we fo'gits 'bout de boy widout de pants. Dey wuz his pants, Wilecat. Havin' no pants is his grief,mont blanc pens. He kin borrow some overalls f'm de cah cleaners,Discount UGG Boots, o' else he kin play he's a Injun an' roam nekked till de police gits him. Does us meet up wid de ol' Pullman 'spector Ah says 'No suh, Ah dunno how come.' 'At's 'at."
"Sho' don't crave words wid no 'spector," the Wildcat returned. "Dis porter business de best job in de world. Ridin' all de time, seem' de country--eatin' heavy, free ice wateh, gran' raiment,cheap designer handbags, talkin' to folks--No suh! Main thing Ah craves is to git hired by de Pullman boss. 'Spect Ah makes it all right, Baptis'?"
2012年11月6日星期二
If these men had millions
If these men had millions, could they get any more enjoyment out of life? To have fine clothes, drink champagne, and pose in a fashionable bar-room in the height of the season--is not this the apotheosis of the "heeler" and the ward "worker"? The scene had a fascination for the artist, who declared that he never tired watching the evolutions of the foreign element into the full bloom of American citizenship.
Chapter 12 Lake George, And Saratoga Again
The intimacy between Mrs. Bartlett Glow and Irene increased as the days went by. The woman of society was always devising plans for Irene's entertainment, and winning her confidence by a thousand evidences of interest and affection. Pleased as King was with this at first, he began to be annoyed at a devotion to which he could have no objection except that it often came between him and the enjoyment of the girl's society alone; and latterly he had noticed that her manner was more grave when they were together, and that a little something of reserve mingled with her tenderness.
They made an excursion one day to Lake George--a poetical pilgrimage that recalled to some of the party (which included some New Orleans friends) the romance of early days. To the Bensons and the artist it was all new, and to King it was seen for the first time in the transforming atmosphere of love. To men of sentiment its beauties will never be exhausted; but to the elderly and perhaps rheumatic tourist the draughty steamboats do not always bring back the remembered delight of youth. There is no pleasanter place in the North for a summer residence, but there is a certain element of monotony and weariness inseparable from an excursion: travelers have been known to yawn even on the Rhine. It was a gray day, the country began to show the approach of autumn, and the view from the landing at Caldwell's, the head of the lake, was never more pleasing. In the marshes the cat-tails and the faint flush of color on the alders and soft maples gave a character to the low shore, and the gentle rise of the hills from the water's edge combined to make a sweet and peaceful landscape.
The tourists find the steamer waiting for them at the end of the rail, and if they are indifferent to the war romances of the place, as most of them are, they hurry on without a glance at the sites of the famous old forts St. George and William Henry. Yet the head of the lake might well detain them a few hours though they do not care for the scalping Indians and their sometime allies the French or the English. On the east side the lake is wooded to the shore,fake montblanc pens, and the jutting points and charming bays make a pleasant outline to the eye. Crosbyside is the ideal of a summer retreat, nestled in foliage on a pretty point, with its great trees on a sloping lawn, boathouses and innumerable row and sail boats, and a lovely view, over the blue waters, of a fine range of hills. Caldwell itself, on the west side, is a pretty tree-planted village in a break in the hills, and a point above it shaded with great pines is a favorite rendezvous for pleasure parties, who leave the ground strewn with egg-shells and newspapers. The Fort William Henry Hotel was formerly the chief resort on the lake,Discount UGG Boots. It is a long, handsome structure, with broad piazzas, and low evergreens and flowers planted in front. The view from it, under the great pines, of the lake and the northern purple hills, is lovely. But the tide of travel passes it by, and the few people who were there seemed lonesome. It is always so,fake uggs online store. Fashion demands novelty,link; one class of summer boarders and tourists drives out another, and the people who want to be sentimental at this end of the lake now pass it with a call, perhaps a sigh for the past, and go on to fresh pastures where their own society is encamped.
Chapter 12 Lake George, And Saratoga Again
The intimacy between Mrs. Bartlett Glow and Irene increased as the days went by. The woman of society was always devising plans for Irene's entertainment, and winning her confidence by a thousand evidences of interest and affection. Pleased as King was with this at first, he began to be annoyed at a devotion to which he could have no objection except that it often came between him and the enjoyment of the girl's society alone; and latterly he had noticed that her manner was more grave when they were together, and that a little something of reserve mingled with her tenderness.
They made an excursion one day to Lake George--a poetical pilgrimage that recalled to some of the party (which included some New Orleans friends) the romance of early days. To the Bensons and the artist it was all new, and to King it was seen for the first time in the transforming atmosphere of love. To men of sentiment its beauties will never be exhausted; but to the elderly and perhaps rheumatic tourist the draughty steamboats do not always bring back the remembered delight of youth. There is no pleasanter place in the North for a summer residence, but there is a certain element of monotony and weariness inseparable from an excursion: travelers have been known to yawn even on the Rhine. It was a gray day, the country began to show the approach of autumn, and the view from the landing at Caldwell's, the head of the lake, was never more pleasing. In the marshes the cat-tails and the faint flush of color on the alders and soft maples gave a character to the low shore, and the gentle rise of the hills from the water's edge combined to make a sweet and peaceful landscape.
The tourists find the steamer waiting for them at the end of the rail, and if they are indifferent to the war romances of the place, as most of them are, they hurry on without a glance at the sites of the famous old forts St. George and William Henry. Yet the head of the lake might well detain them a few hours though they do not care for the scalping Indians and their sometime allies the French or the English. On the east side the lake is wooded to the shore,fake montblanc pens, and the jutting points and charming bays make a pleasant outline to the eye. Crosbyside is the ideal of a summer retreat, nestled in foliage on a pretty point, with its great trees on a sloping lawn, boathouses and innumerable row and sail boats, and a lovely view, over the blue waters, of a fine range of hills. Caldwell itself, on the west side, is a pretty tree-planted village in a break in the hills, and a point above it shaded with great pines is a favorite rendezvous for pleasure parties, who leave the ground strewn with egg-shells and newspapers. The Fort William Henry Hotel was formerly the chief resort on the lake,Discount UGG Boots. It is a long, handsome structure, with broad piazzas, and low evergreens and flowers planted in front. The view from it, under the great pines, of the lake and the northern purple hills, is lovely. But the tide of travel passes it by, and the few people who were there seemed lonesome. It is always so,fake uggs online store. Fashion demands novelty,link; one class of summer boarders and tourists drives out another, and the people who want to be sentimental at this end of the lake now pass it with a call, perhaps a sigh for the past, and go on to fresh pastures where their own society is encamped.
I threw up my arms
I threw up my arms,louis vuitton australia, shouted a ghostly shout, and set off in vast leaps towards it. I missed one of my leaps and dropped into a deep ravine and twisted my ankle, and after that I stumbled at almost every leap. I was in a state of hysterical agitation, trembling violently,louis vuitton for mens, and quite breathless long before I got to it. Three times at least I had to stop with my hands resting on my side and in spite of the thin dryness of the air, the perspiration was wet upon my face.
I thought of nothing but the sphere until I reached it, I forgot even my trouble of Cavor's whereabouts. My last leap flung me with my hands hard against its glass; then I lay against it panting, and trying vainly to shout, "Cavor! here is the sphere!" When I had recovered a little I peered through the thick glass, and the things inside seemed tumbled. I stooped to peer closer. Then I attempted to get in. I had to hoist it over a little to get my head through the manhole. The screw stopper was inside, and I could see now that nothing had been touched, nothing had suffered. It lay there as we had left it when we had dropped out amidst the snow. For a time I was wholly occupied in making and remaking this inventory. I found I was trembling violently. It was good to see that familiar dark interior again! I cannot tell you how good. Presently I crept inside and sat down among the things. I looked through the glass at the moon world and shivered. I placed my gold clubs upon the table, and sought out and took a little food; not so much because I wanted it, but because it was there,Fake Designer Handbags. Then it occurred to me that it was time to go out and signal for Cavor. But I did not go out and signal for Cavor forthwith. Something held me to the sphere.
After all, everything was coming right. There would be still time for us to get more of the magic stone that gives one mastery over men. Away there, close handy, was gold for the picking up,fake uggs for sale; and the sphere would travel as well half full of gold as though it were empty. We could go back now, masters of ourselves and our world, and then--
I roused myself at last, and with an effort got myself out of the sphere. I shivered as I emerged, for the evening air was growing very cold. I stood in the hollow staring about me. I scrutinised the bushes round me very carefully before I leapt to the rocky shelf hard by, and took once more what had been my first leap in the moon. But now I made it with no effort whatever.
The growth and decay of the vegetation had gone on apace, and the whole aspect of the rocks had changed, but still it was possible to make out the slope on which the seeds had germinated, and the rocky mass from which we had taken our first view of the crater. But the spiky shrub on the slope stood brown and sere now, and thirty feet high, and cast long shadows that stretched out of sight, and the little seeds that clustered in its upper branches were brown and ripe. Its work was done, and it was brittle and ready to fall and crumple under the freezing air, so soon as the nightfall came. And the huge cacti, that had swollen as we watched them, had long since burst and scattered their spores to the four quarters of the moon. Amazing little corner in the universe--the landing place of men!
I thought of nothing but the sphere until I reached it, I forgot even my trouble of Cavor's whereabouts. My last leap flung me with my hands hard against its glass; then I lay against it panting, and trying vainly to shout, "Cavor! here is the sphere!" When I had recovered a little I peered through the thick glass, and the things inside seemed tumbled. I stooped to peer closer. Then I attempted to get in. I had to hoist it over a little to get my head through the manhole. The screw stopper was inside, and I could see now that nothing had been touched, nothing had suffered. It lay there as we had left it when we had dropped out amidst the snow. For a time I was wholly occupied in making and remaking this inventory. I found I was trembling violently. It was good to see that familiar dark interior again! I cannot tell you how good. Presently I crept inside and sat down among the things. I looked through the glass at the moon world and shivered. I placed my gold clubs upon the table, and sought out and took a little food; not so much because I wanted it, but because it was there,Fake Designer Handbags. Then it occurred to me that it was time to go out and signal for Cavor. But I did not go out and signal for Cavor forthwith. Something held me to the sphere.
After all, everything was coming right. There would be still time for us to get more of the magic stone that gives one mastery over men. Away there, close handy, was gold for the picking up,fake uggs for sale; and the sphere would travel as well half full of gold as though it were empty. We could go back now, masters of ourselves and our world, and then--
I roused myself at last, and with an effort got myself out of the sphere. I shivered as I emerged, for the evening air was growing very cold. I stood in the hollow staring about me. I scrutinised the bushes round me very carefully before I leapt to the rocky shelf hard by, and took once more what had been my first leap in the moon. But now I made it with no effort whatever.
The growth and decay of the vegetation had gone on apace, and the whole aspect of the rocks had changed, but still it was possible to make out the slope on which the seeds had germinated, and the rocky mass from which we had taken our first view of the crater. But the spiky shrub on the slope stood brown and sere now, and thirty feet high, and cast long shadows that stretched out of sight, and the little seeds that clustered in its upper branches were brown and ripe. Its work was done, and it was brittle and ready to fall and crumple under the freezing air, so soon as the nightfall came. And the huge cacti, that had swollen as we watched them, had long since burst and scattered their spores to the four quarters of the moon. Amazing little corner in the universe--the landing place of men!
2012年11月4日星期日
The thought brought him back to the central point inher mind
The thought brought him back to the central point inher mind, and she strayed away from the conjecturesroused by Liff Hyatt's presence. Speculationsconcerning the past could not hold her long when thepresent was so rich, the future so rosy, and whenLucius Harney, a stone's throw away, was bending overhis sketch-book, frowning, calculating, measuring, andthen throwing his head back with the sudden smile thathad shed its brightness over everything.
She scrambled to her feet, but as she did so she sawhim coming up the pasture and dropped down on the grassto wait. When he was drawing and measuring one of "hishouses," as she called them,ugg bailey button triplet 1873 boots, she often strayed away byherself into the woods or up the hillside. It waspartly from shyness that she did so: from a sense ofinadequacy that came to her most painfully when hercompanion,UGG Clerance, absorbed in his job, forgot her ignoranceand her inability to follow his least allusion, andplunged into a monologue on art and life. To avoid theawkwardness of listening with a blank face, and also toescape the surprised stare of the inhabitants of thehouses before which he would abruptly pull up theirhorse and open his sketch-book, she slipped away tosome spot from which, without being seen, she couldwatch him at work, or at least look down on the househe was drawing. She had not been displeased, at first,to have it known to North Dormer and the neighborhoodthat she was driving Miss Hatchard's cousin about thecountry in the buggy he had hired of lawyer Royall.
She had always kept to herself, contemptuously alooffrom village love-making, without exactly knowingwhether her fierce pride was due to the sense of hertainted origin, or whether she was reserving herselffor a more brilliant fate. Sometimes she envied theother girls their sentimental preoccupations, theirlong hours of inarticulate philandering with one of thefew youths who still lingered in the village; but whenshe pictured herself curling her hair or putting a newribbon on her hat for Ben Fry or one of the Sollas boysthe fever dropped and she relapsed into indifference.
Now she knew the meaning of her disdains andreluctances. She had learned what she was worth whenLucius Harney,shox torch 2, looking at her for the first time, hadlost the thread of his speech, and leaned reddening onthe edge of her desk. But another kind of shyness hadbeen born in her: a terror of exposing to vulgar perilsthe sacred treasure of her happiness. She was notsorry to have the neighbors suspect her of "going with"a young man from the city; but she did not want itknown to all the countryside how many hours of the longJune days she spent with him. What she most feared wasthat the inevitable comments should reach Mr. Royall.
Charity was instinctively aware that few thingsconcerning her escaped the eyes of the silent man underwhose roof she lived; and in spite of the latitudewhich North Dormer accorded to courting couples she hadalways felt that, on the day when she showed too open apreference, Mr. Royall might, as she phrased it, makeher "pay for it,link." How, she did not know; and her fearwas the greater because it was undefinable. If she hadbeen accepting the attentions of one of the villageyouths she would have been less apprehensive: Mr.
She scrambled to her feet, but as she did so she sawhim coming up the pasture and dropped down on the grassto wait. When he was drawing and measuring one of "hishouses," as she called them,ugg bailey button triplet 1873 boots, she often strayed away byherself into the woods or up the hillside. It waspartly from shyness that she did so: from a sense ofinadequacy that came to her most painfully when hercompanion,UGG Clerance, absorbed in his job, forgot her ignoranceand her inability to follow his least allusion, andplunged into a monologue on art and life. To avoid theawkwardness of listening with a blank face, and also toescape the surprised stare of the inhabitants of thehouses before which he would abruptly pull up theirhorse and open his sketch-book, she slipped away tosome spot from which, without being seen, she couldwatch him at work, or at least look down on the househe was drawing. She had not been displeased, at first,to have it known to North Dormer and the neighborhoodthat she was driving Miss Hatchard's cousin about thecountry in the buggy he had hired of lawyer Royall.
She had always kept to herself, contemptuously alooffrom village love-making, without exactly knowingwhether her fierce pride was due to the sense of hertainted origin, or whether she was reserving herselffor a more brilliant fate. Sometimes she envied theother girls their sentimental preoccupations, theirlong hours of inarticulate philandering with one of thefew youths who still lingered in the village; but whenshe pictured herself curling her hair or putting a newribbon on her hat for Ben Fry or one of the Sollas boysthe fever dropped and she relapsed into indifference.
Now she knew the meaning of her disdains andreluctances. She had learned what she was worth whenLucius Harney,shox torch 2, looking at her for the first time, hadlost the thread of his speech, and leaned reddening onthe edge of her desk. But another kind of shyness hadbeen born in her: a terror of exposing to vulgar perilsthe sacred treasure of her happiness. She was notsorry to have the neighbors suspect her of "going with"a young man from the city; but she did not want itknown to all the countryside how many hours of the longJune days she spent with him. What she most feared wasthat the inevitable comments should reach Mr. Royall.
Charity was instinctively aware that few thingsconcerning her escaped the eyes of the silent man underwhose roof she lived; and in spite of the latitudewhich North Dormer accorded to courting couples she hadalways felt that, on the day when she showed too open apreference, Mr. Royall might, as she phrased it, makeher "pay for it,link." How, she did not know; and her fearwas the greater because it was undefinable. If she hadbeen accepting the attentions of one of the villageyouths she would have been less apprehensive: Mr.
'I shall telephone to the office to send up a porter to removeyou
'I shall telephone to the office to send up a porter to removeyou.'
'I shall take advantage of his presence to ask him to fetch apoliceman.'
In the excitement of combat the veneer of apologetic diffidencewas beginning to wear off Mr Mennick. He spoke irritably. Cynthiaappealed to his reason with the air of a bored princess descendingto argument with a groom.
'Can't you see for yourself that he's not here?' she said,fake montblanc pens. 'Do youthink we are hiding him?'
'Perhaps you would like to search my bedroom?' said Mrs Ford,flinging the door open.
Mr Mennick remained uncrushed.
'Quite unnecessary,nike shox torch ii, Mrs Ford. I take it, from the fact that hedoes not appear to be in this suite, that he is downstairs makinga late luncheon in the restaurant.'
'I shall telephone--'
'And tell them to send him up. Believe me, Mrs Ford, it is theonly thing to do. You have my deepest sympathy, but I am employedby Mr Ford and must act solely in his interests. The law is on myside. I am here to fetch Ogden away, and I am going to have him.'
'You shan't!'
'I may add that, when I came up here, I left Mrs Sheridan--she isa fellow-secretary of mine. You may remember Mr Ford mentioningher in his telegram--I left her to search the restaurant andgrill-room, with instructions to bring Ogden, if found, to me inthis room.'
The door-bell rang,homepage. He went to the door and opened it.
'Come in, Mrs Sheridan. Ah!'
A girl in a plain, neat blue dress entered the room. She was asmall, graceful girl of about twenty-five, pretty and brisk, withthe air of one accustomed to look after herself in a difficultworld. Her eyes were clear and steady, her mouth sensitive butfirm, her chin the chin of one who has met trouble and faced itbravely. A little soldier.
She was shepherding Ogden before her, a gorged but still sullenOgden. He sighted Mr Mennick and stopped.
'Hello!' he said. 'What have you blown in for?'
'He was just in the middle of his lunch,' said the girl. 'Ithought you wouldn't mind if I let him finish.'
'Say, what's it all about, anyway?' demanded Ogden crossly. 'Can'ta fellow have a bit of grub in peace? You give me a pain.'
Mr Mennick explained.
'Your father wishes you to return to Eastnor, Ogden.'
'Oh, all right. I guess I'd better go, then. Good-bye, ma.'
Mrs Ford choked.
'Kiss me, Ogden.'
Ogden submitted to the embrace in sulky silence. The otherscomported themselves each after his or her own fashion. Mr Mennickfingered his chin uncomfortably. Cynthia turned to the table andpicked up an illustrated paper. Mrs Sheridan's eyes filled withtears. She took a half-step towards Mrs Ford, as if about tospeak, then drew back.
'Come, Ogden,' said Mr Mennick gruffly. Necessary, this HiredAssassin work, but painful--devilish painful. He breathed a sighof relief as he passed into the corridor with his prize.
At the door Mrs Sheridan hesitated,fake uggs online store, stopped, and turned.
'I'm sorry,' she said impulsively.
Mrs Ford turned away without speaking, and went into the bedroom.
Cynthia laid down her paper.
'One moment, Mrs Sheridan.'
'I shall take advantage of his presence to ask him to fetch apoliceman.'
In the excitement of combat the veneer of apologetic diffidencewas beginning to wear off Mr Mennick. He spoke irritably. Cynthiaappealed to his reason with the air of a bored princess descendingto argument with a groom.
'Can't you see for yourself that he's not here?' she said,fake montblanc pens. 'Do youthink we are hiding him?'
'Perhaps you would like to search my bedroom?' said Mrs Ford,flinging the door open.
Mr Mennick remained uncrushed.
'Quite unnecessary,nike shox torch ii, Mrs Ford. I take it, from the fact that hedoes not appear to be in this suite, that he is downstairs makinga late luncheon in the restaurant.'
'I shall telephone--'
'And tell them to send him up. Believe me, Mrs Ford, it is theonly thing to do. You have my deepest sympathy, but I am employedby Mr Ford and must act solely in his interests. The law is on myside. I am here to fetch Ogden away, and I am going to have him.'
'You shan't!'
'I may add that, when I came up here, I left Mrs Sheridan--she isa fellow-secretary of mine. You may remember Mr Ford mentioningher in his telegram--I left her to search the restaurant andgrill-room, with instructions to bring Ogden, if found, to me inthis room.'
The door-bell rang,homepage. He went to the door and opened it.
'Come in, Mrs Sheridan. Ah!'
A girl in a plain, neat blue dress entered the room. She was asmall, graceful girl of about twenty-five, pretty and brisk, withthe air of one accustomed to look after herself in a difficultworld. Her eyes were clear and steady, her mouth sensitive butfirm, her chin the chin of one who has met trouble and faced itbravely. A little soldier.
She was shepherding Ogden before her, a gorged but still sullenOgden. He sighted Mr Mennick and stopped.
'Hello!' he said. 'What have you blown in for?'
'He was just in the middle of his lunch,' said the girl. 'Ithought you wouldn't mind if I let him finish.'
'Say, what's it all about, anyway?' demanded Ogden crossly. 'Can'ta fellow have a bit of grub in peace? You give me a pain.'
Mr Mennick explained.
'Your father wishes you to return to Eastnor, Ogden.'
'Oh, all right. I guess I'd better go, then. Good-bye, ma.'
Mrs Ford choked.
'Kiss me, Ogden.'
Ogden submitted to the embrace in sulky silence. The otherscomported themselves each after his or her own fashion. Mr Mennickfingered his chin uncomfortably. Cynthia turned to the table andpicked up an illustrated paper. Mrs Sheridan's eyes filled withtears. She took a half-step towards Mrs Ford, as if about tospeak, then drew back.
'Come, Ogden,' said Mr Mennick gruffly. Necessary, this HiredAssassin work, but painful--devilish painful. He breathed a sighof relief as he passed into the corridor with his prize.
At the door Mrs Sheridan hesitated,fake uggs online store, stopped, and turned.
'I'm sorry,' she said impulsively.
Mrs Ford turned away without speaking, and went into the bedroom.
Cynthia laid down her paper.
'One moment, Mrs Sheridan.'
How much would you want
"How much would you want?" he enquired.
"That," said Uncle Chris meditatively, "is a little hard to say. Ishould have to look into the matter more closely in order to give youthe exact figures. But let us say for the sake of argument that youput up--what shall we say?--a hundred thousand,Designer Handbags? fifty thousand? . . .
no, we will be conservative. Perhaps you had better not begin withmore than ten thousand. You can always buy more shares later. I don'tsuppose I shall begin with more than ten thousand myself.""I could manage ten thousand all right.""Excellent. We make progress, we make progress,Discount UGG Boots. Very well, then. I goto my Wall Street friends--I would give you their names, only for thepresent, till something definite has been done, that would hardly bepolitic--I go to my Wall Street friends,knockoff handbags, and tell them about thescheme, and say 'Here is ten thousand dollars! What is yourcontribution?' It puts the affair on a business-like basis, youunderstand. Then we really get to work. But use your own judgment myboy, you know. Use your own judgment. I would not think of persuadingyou to take such a step, if you felt at all doubtful. Think it over.
Sleep on it. And, whatever you decide to do, on no account say a wordabout it to Jill. It would be cruel to raise her hopes until we arecertain that we are in a position to enable her to realize them. And,of course, not a word to Mrs Peagrim.""Of course.""Very well, then, my boy." said Uncle Chris affably. "I will leaveyou to turn the whole thing over in your mind. Act entirely as youthink best. How is your insomnia, by the way? Did you try Nervino?
Capital! There's nothing like it. It did wonders for _me,link!_Good-night, good-night!"Otis Pilkington had been turning the thing over in his mind, with aninterval for sleep, ever since. And the more he thought of it, thebetter the scheme appeared to him. He winced a little at the thoughtof the ten thousand dollars, for he came of prudent stock and hadbeen brought up in habits of parsimony, but, after all, he reflected,the money would be merely a loan. Once the company found its feet, itwould be returned to him a hundred-fold. And there was no doubt thatthis would put a completely different aspect on his wooing of Jill,as far as his Aunt Olive was concerned. Why, a cousin of his--youngBrewster Philmore--had married a movie-star only two years ago, andnobody had made the slightest objection. Brewster was to be seen withhis bride frequently beneath Mrs Peagrim's roof. Against the higherstrata of Bohemia Mrs Peagrim had no prejudice at all. Quite thereverse, in fact. She liked the society of those whose names wereoften in the papers and much in the public mouth. It seemed to OtisPilkington, in short, that Love had found a way. He sipped his teawith relish, and when the Japanese valet brought in the toast allburned on one side, chided him with a gentle sweetness which, one mayhope, touched the latter's Oriental heart and inspired him with adesire to serve this best of employers more efficiently.
At half-past ten, Otis Pilkington removed his dressing-gown and beganto put on his clothes to visit the theatre. There was arehearsal-call for the whole company at eleven. As he dressed, hismood was as sunny as the day itself.
"That," said Uncle Chris meditatively, "is a little hard to say. Ishould have to look into the matter more closely in order to give youthe exact figures. But let us say for the sake of argument that youput up--what shall we say?--a hundred thousand,Designer Handbags? fifty thousand? . . .
no, we will be conservative. Perhaps you had better not begin withmore than ten thousand. You can always buy more shares later. I don'tsuppose I shall begin with more than ten thousand myself.""I could manage ten thousand all right.""Excellent. We make progress, we make progress,Discount UGG Boots. Very well, then. I goto my Wall Street friends--I would give you their names, only for thepresent, till something definite has been done, that would hardly bepolitic--I go to my Wall Street friends,knockoff handbags, and tell them about thescheme, and say 'Here is ten thousand dollars! What is yourcontribution?' It puts the affair on a business-like basis, youunderstand. Then we really get to work. But use your own judgment myboy, you know. Use your own judgment. I would not think of persuadingyou to take such a step, if you felt at all doubtful. Think it over.
Sleep on it. And, whatever you decide to do, on no account say a wordabout it to Jill. It would be cruel to raise her hopes until we arecertain that we are in a position to enable her to realize them. And,of course, not a word to Mrs Peagrim.""Of course.""Very well, then, my boy." said Uncle Chris affably. "I will leaveyou to turn the whole thing over in your mind. Act entirely as youthink best. How is your insomnia, by the way? Did you try Nervino?
Capital! There's nothing like it. It did wonders for _me,link!_Good-night, good-night!"Otis Pilkington had been turning the thing over in his mind, with aninterval for sleep, ever since. And the more he thought of it, thebetter the scheme appeared to him. He winced a little at the thoughtof the ten thousand dollars, for he came of prudent stock and hadbeen brought up in habits of parsimony, but, after all, he reflected,the money would be merely a loan. Once the company found its feet, itwould be returned to him a hundred-fold. And there was no doubt thatthis would put a completely different aspect on his wooing of Jill,as far as his Aunt Olive was concerned. Why, a cousin of his--youngBrewster Philmore--had married a movie-star only two years ago, andnobody had made the slightest objection. Brewster was to be seen withhis bride frequently beneath Mrs Peagrim's roof. Against the higherstrata of Bohemia Mrs Peagrim had no prejudice at all. Quite thereverse, in fact. She liked the society of those whose names wereoften in the papers and much in the public mouth. It seemed to OtisPilkington, in short, that Love had found a way. He sipped his teawith relish, and when the Japanese valet brought in the toast allburned on one side, chided him with a gentle sweetness which, one mayhope, touched the latter's Oriental heart and inspired him with adesire to serve this best of employers more efficiently.
At half-past ten, Otis Pilkington removed his dressing-gown and beganto put on his clothes to visit the theatre. There was arehearsal-call for the whole company at eleven. As he dressed, hismood was as sunny as the day itself.
2012年11月3日星期六
Isn't it that there is some greater desire at the back of the human mind
"Isn't it that there is some greater desire at the back of the human mind,chanel unisex ceramic watches?" the doctor suggested. "Which refuses to be content with pleasure as an end?"
"What greater desire?" asked Sir Richmond, disconcertingly.
"Oh!..." The doctor cast about.
"There is no such greater desire," said Sir Richmond. "You cannot name it. It is just blind drive. I admit its discontent with pleasure as an end--but has it any end of its own? At the most you can say that the rage in life is seeking its desire and hasn't found it."
"Let us help in the search," said the doctor, with an afternoon smile under his green umbrella. "Go on."
Section 2
"Since our first talk in Harley Street," said Sir Richmond, "I have been trying myself over in my mind. (We can drift down this backwater.)"
"Big these trees are," said the doctor with infinite approval.
"I am astonished to discover what a bundle of discordant motives I am. I do not seem to deserve to be called a personality. I cannot discover even a general direction. Much more am I like a taxi-cab in which all sorts of aims and desires have travelled to their destination and got out. Are we all like that?"
"A bundle held together by a name and address and a certain thread of memory?" said the doctor and considered. "More than that. More than that. We have leading ideas, associations, possessions, liabilities."
"We build ourselves a prison of circumstances that keeps us from complete dispersal."
"Exactly," said the doctor. "And there is also something, a consistency, that we call character."
"It changes."
"Consistently with itself."
"I have been trying to recall my sexual history," said Sir Richmond, going off at a tangent. "My sentimental education. I wonder if it differs very widely from yours or most men's."
"Some men are more eventful in these matters than others," said the doctor,--it sounded--wistfully.
"They have the same jumble of motives and traditions, I suspect, whether they are eventful or not. The brakes may be strong or weak but the drive is the same. I can't remember much of the beginnings of curiosity and knowledge in these matters. Can you?"
"Not much," said the doctor. "No,ladies chanel watches."
"Your psychoanalysts tell a story of fears, suppressions,jordan wholesale, monstrous imaginations, symbolic replacements. I don't remember much of that sort of thing in my own case. It may have faded out of my mind. There were probably some uneasy curiosities, a grotesque dream or so perhaps; I can't recall anything of that sort distinctly now. I had a very lively interest in women, even when I was still quite a little boy, and a certain--what shall I call it?--imaginative slavishness--not towards actual women but towards something magnificently feminine. My first love--"
Sir Richmond smiled at some secret memory. "My first love was Britannia as depicted by Tenniel in the cartoons in PUNCH. I must have been a very little chap at the time of the Britannia affair. I just clung to her in my imagination and did devoted things for her. Then I recall, a little later, a secret abject adoration for the white goddesses of the Crystal Palace. Not for any particular one of them that I can remember,--for all of them. But I don't remember anything very monstrous or incestuous in my childish imaginations,--such things as Freud, I understand, lays stress upon. If there was an Oedipus complex or anything of that sort in my case it has been very completely washed out again. Perhaps a child which is brought up in a proper nursery of its own and sees a lot of pictures of the nude human body, and so on, gets its mind shifted off any possible concentration upon the domestic aspect of sex,jordans for sale. I got to definite knowledge pretty early. By the time I was eleven or twelve."
"What greater desire?" asked Sir Richmond, disconcertingly.
"Oh!..." The doctor cast about.
"There is no such greater desire," said Sir Richmond. "You cannot name it. It is just blind drive. I admit its discontent with pleasure as an end--but has it any end of its own? At the most you can say that the rage in life is seeking its desire and hasn't found it."
"Let us help in the search," said the doctor, with an afternoon smile under his green umbrella. "Go on."
Section 2
"Since our first talk in Harley Street," said Sir Richmond, "I have been trying myself over in my mind. (We can drift down this backwater.)"
"Big these trees are," said the doctor with infinite approval.
"I am astonished to discover what a bundle of discordant motives I am. I do not seem to deserve to be called a personality. I cannot discover even a general direction. Much more am I like a taxi-cab in which all sorts of aims and desires have travelled to their destination and got out. Are we all like that?"
"A bundle held together by a name and address and a certain thread of memory?" said the doctor and considered. "More than that. More than that. We have leading ideas, associations, possessions, liabilities."
"We build ourselves a prison of circumstances that keeps us from complete dispersal."
"Exactly," said the doctor. "And there is also something, a consistency, that we call character."
"It changes."
"Consistently with itself."
"I have been trying to recall my sexual history," said Sir Richmond, going off at a tangent. "My sentimental education. I wonder if it differs very widely from yours or most men's."
"Some men are more eventful in these matters than others," said the doctor,--it sounded--wistfully.
"They have the same jumble of motives and traditions, I suspect, whether they are eventful or not. The brakes may be strong or weak but the drive is the same. I can't remember much of the beginnings of curiosity and knowledge in these matters. Can you?"
"Not much," said the doctor. "No,ladies chanel watches."
"Your psychoanalysts tell a story of fears, suppressions,jordan wholesale, monstrous imaginations, symbolic replacements. I don't remember much of that sort of thing in my own case. It may have faded out of my mind. There were probably some uneasy curiosities, a grotesque dream or so perhaps; I can't recall anything of that sort distinctly now. I had a very lively interest in women, even when I was still quite a little boy, and a certain--what shall I call it?--imaginative slavishness--not towards actual women but towards something magnificently feminine. My first love--"
Sir Richmond smiled at some secret memory. "My first love was Britannia as depicted by Tenniel in the cartoons in PUNCH. I must have been a very little chap at the time of the Britannia affair. I just clung to her in my imagination and did devoted things for her. Then I recall, a little later, a secret abject adoration for the white goddesses of the Crystal Palace. Not for any particular one of them that I can remember,--for all of them. But I don't remember anything very monstrous or incestuous in my childish imaginations,--such things as Freud, I understand, lays stress upon. If there was an Oedipus complex or anything of that sort in my case it has been very completely washed out again. Perhaps a child which is brought up in a proper nursery of its own and sees a lot of pictures of the nude human body, and so on, gets its mind shifted off any possible concentration upon the domestic aspect of sex,jordans for sale. I got to definite knowledge pretty early. By the time I was eleven or twelve."
come what will
“Now, come what will, I’m a match for it. No trouble can touch me,” said Brian.
“Oh,fake chanel watches, don’t be bragging,” said the widow.
“Whatever trouble God sends, he has given one now will help to bear it, and sure I may be thankful,” said Grace.
“Such good hearts must be happy,— shall be happy!” said Lord Colambre.
“Oh, you’re very kind,” said the widow, smiling,jordan 11 black; “and I wouldn’t doubt you,jordan wholesale, if you had the power. I hope, then, the agent will give you encouragement about them mines, that we may keep you among us.”
“I am determined to settle among you, warm-hearted, generous people!” cried Lord Colambre; “whether the agent gives me encouragement or not,” added he.
It was a long walk to Clonbrony Castle; the old woman, as she said herself, would not have been able for it, but for a lift given to her by a friendly carman, whom she overtook on the road with an empty car. This carman was Finnucan, who dissipated Lord Colambre’s fears of meeting and being recognized by Mrs. Raffarty; for he, in answer to the question of “Who is at the castle?” replied, “Mrs. Raffarty will be in it afore night; but she’s on the road still. There’s none but Old Nick in it yet; and he’s more of a neger than ever; for think, that he would not pay me a farthing for the carriage of his shister’s boxes and band-boxes down. If you’re going to have any dealings with him, God grant ye a safe deliverance!”
“Amen!” said the widow, and her son and daughter.
Lord Colambre’s attention was now engaged by the view of the castle and park of Clonbrony. He had not seen it since he was six years old. Some faint reminiscence from his childhood made him feel or fancy that he knew the place. It was a fine castle, spacious park; but all about it, from the broken piers at the great entrance, to the mossy gravel and loose steps at the hall-door, had an air of desertion and melancholy. Walks overgrown, shrubberies wild, plantations run up into bare poles; fine trees cut down, and lying on the ground in lots to be sold. A hill that had been covered with an oak wood, where in his childhood our hero used to play, and which he called the black forest, was gone; nothing to be seen but the white stumps of the trees, for it had been freshly cut down, to make up the last remittances.—“And how it went, when sold!— but no matter,” said Finnucan; “it’s all alike.— It’s the back way into the yard, I’ll take you, I suppose.”
“And such a yard! but it’s no matter,” repeated Lord Colambre to himself; “it’s all alike.”
In the kitchen, a great dinner was dressing for Mr,unisex chanel watches. Garraghty’s friends, who were to make merry with him when the business of the day was over.
“Where’s the keys of the cellar, till I get out the claret for after dinner,” says one; “and the wine for the cook — sure there’s venison,” cries another.—“Venison!— That’s the way my lord’s deer goes,” says a third, laughing.—“Ay, sure! and very proper, when he’s not here to eat ’em.”—“Keep your nose out of the kitchen, young man, if you plase,” said the agent’s cook, shutting the door in Lord Colambre’s face. “There’s the way to the office, if you’ve money to pay, up the back stairs.”
“Oh,fake chanel watches, don’t be bragging,” said the widow.
“Whatever trouble God sends, he has given one now will help to bear it, and sure I may be thankful,” said Grace.
“Such good hearts must be happy,— shall be happy!” said Lord Colambre.
“Oh, you’re very kind,” said the widow, smiling,jordan 11 black; “and I wouldn’t doubt you,jordan wholesale, if you had the power. I hope, then, the agent will give you encouragement about them mines, that we may keep you among us.”
“I am determined to settle among you, warm-hearted, generous people!” cried Lord Colambre; “whether the agent gives me encouragement or not,” added he.
It was a long walk to Clonbrony Castle; the old woman, as she said herself, would not have been able for it, but for a lift given to her by a friendly carman, whom she overtook on the road with an empty car. This carman was Finnucan, who dissipated Lord Colambre’s fears of meeting and being recognized by Mrs. Raffarty; for he, in answer to the question of “Who is at the castle?” replied, “Mrs. Raffarty will be in it afore night; but she’s on the road still. There’s none but Old Nick in it yet; and he’s more of a neger than ever; for think, that he would not pay me a farthing for the carriage of his shister’s boxes and band-boxes down. If you’re going to have any dealings with him, God grant ye a safe deliverance!”
“Amen!” said the widow, and her son and daughter.
Lord Colambre’s attention was now engaged by the view of the castle and park of Clonbrony. He had not seen it since he was six years old. Some faint reminiscence from his childhood made him feel or fancy that he knew the place. It was a fine castle, spacious park; but all about it, from the broken piers at the great entrance, to the mossy gravel and loose steps at the hall-door, had an air of desertion and melancholy. Walks overgrown, shrubberies wild, plantations run up into bare poles; fine trees cut down, and lying on the ground in lots to be sold. A hill that had been covered with an oak wood, where in his childhood our hero used to play, and which he called the black forest, was gone; nothing to be seen but the white stumps of the trees, for it had been freshly cut down, to make up the last remittances.—“And how it went, when sold!— but no matter,” said Finnucan; “it’s all alike.— It’s the back way into the yard, I’ll take you, I suppose.”
“And such a yard! but it’s no matter,” repeated Lord Colambre to himself; “it’s all alike.”
In the kitchen, a great dinner was dressing for Mr,unisex chanel watches. Garraghty’s friends, who were to make merry with him when the business of the day was over.
“Where’s the keys of the cellar, till I get out the claret for after dinner,” says one; “and the wine for the cook — sure there’s venison,” cries another.—“Venison!— That’s the way my lord’s deer goes,” says a third, laughing.—“Ay, sure! and very proper, when he’s not here to eat ’em.”—“Keep your nose out of the kitchen, young man, if you plase,” said the agent’s cook, shutting the door in Lord Colambre’s face. “There’s the way to the office, if you’ve money to pay, up the back stairs.”
“Engaged
“Engaged! engaged to a very amiable, charming woman, no doubt,” said Sir James Brooke. “I have an excellent opinion of your taste; and if you can return the compliment to my judgment, take my advice: don’t trust to your heart’s being engaged, much less plead that engagement; for it would be Lady Dashfort’s sport, and Lady Isabel’s joy, to make you break your engagement, and break your mistress’s heart; the fairer, the more amiable, the more beloved, the greater the triumph, the greater the delight in giving pain. All the time love would be out of the question; neither mother nor daughter would care if you were hanged, or, as Lady Dashfort would herself have expressed it, if you were d —— d.”
“With such women I should think a man’s heart could be in no great danger,” said Lord Colambre.
“There you might be mistaken, my lord; there’s a way to every man’s heart, which no man in his own case is aware of, but which every woman knows right well, and none better than these ladies — by his vanity.”
“True,” said Captain Bowles.
“I am not so vain as to think myself without vanity,” said Lord Colambre; “but love, I should imagine, is a stronger passion than vanity.”
“You should imagine! Stay till you are tried, my lord. Excuse me,” said Captain Bowles, laughing.
Lord Colambre felt the good sense of this, and determined to have nothing to do with these dangerous ladies: indeed, though he had talked,mens chanel watches, he had scarcely yet thought of them; for his imagination was intent upon that packet from Miss Nugent, which Mrs,jordan wholesale. Petito said she had for him. He heard nothing of it, or of her, for some days. He sent his servant every day to Stephen’s Green, to inquire if Lady Dashfort had returned to town,chanel j12 white ceramic watches. Her ladyship at last returned; but Mrs. Petito could not deliver the parcel to any hand but Lord Colambre’s own, and she would not stir out, because her lady was indisposed. No longer able to restrain his impatience, Lord Colambre went himself — knocked at Lady Dashfort’s door — inquired for Mrs. Petito — was shown into her parlour. The parcel was delivered to him; but, to his utter disappointment, it was a parcel for, not from Miss Nugent. It contained merely an odd volume of some book of Miss Nugent’s which Mrs. Petito said she had put up along with her things in a mistake, and she thought it her duty to return it by the first opportunity of a safe conveyance.
Whilst Lord Colambre, to comfort himself for his disappointment, was fixing his eyes upon Miss Nugent’s name, written by her own hand, in the first leaf of the book, the door opened, and the figure of an interesting-looking lady, in deep mourning, appeared — appeared for one moment, and retired.
“Only my Lord Colambre, about a parcel I was bringing for him from England, my lady — my Lady Isabel, my lord,” said Mrs. Petito.
Whilst Mrs. Petito was saying this, the entrance and retreat had been made, and made with such dignity, grace, and modesty: with such innocence, dove-like eyes had been raised upon him, fixed and withdrawn,jordan 11; with such a gracious bend the Lady Isabel had bowed to him as she retired; with such a smile, and with so soft a voice, had repeated “Lord Colambre!” that his lordship, though well aware that all this was mere acting, could not help saying to himself, as he left the house, “It is a pity it is only acting. There is certainly something very engaging in this woman. It is a pity she is an actress. And so young! A much younger woman than I expected. A widow before most women are wives. So young, surely she cannot be such a fiend as they described her to be!”
“With such women I should think a man’s heart could be in no great danger,” said Lord Colambre.
“There you might be mistaken, my lord; there’s a way to every man’s heart, which no man in his own case is aware of, but which every woman knows right well, and none better than these ladies — by his vanity.”
“True,” said Captain Bowles.
“I am not so vain as to think myself without vanity,” said Lord Colambre; “but love, I should imagine, is a stronger passion than vanity.”
“You should imagine! Stay till you are tried, my lord. Excuse me,” said Captain Bowles, laughing.
Lord Colambre felt the good sense of this, and determined to have nothing to do with these dangerous ladies: indeed, though he had talked,mens chanel watches, he had scarcely yet thought of them; for his imagination was intent upon that packet from Miss Nugent, which Mrs,jordan wholesale. Petito said she had for him. He heard nothing of it, or of her, for some days. He sent his servant every day to Stephen’s Green, to inquire if Lady Dashfort had returned to town,chanel j12 white ceramic watches. Her ladyship at last returned; but Mrs. Petito could not deliver the parcel to any hand but Lord Colambre’s own, and she would not stir out, because her lady was indisposed. No longer able to restrain his impatience, Lord Colambre went himself — knocked at Lady Dashfort’s door — inquired for Mrs. Petito — was shown into her parlour. The parcel was delivered to him; but, to his utter disappointment, it was a parcel for, not from Miss Nugent. It contained merely an odd volume of some book of Miss Nugent’s which Mrs. Petito said she had put up along with her things in a mistake, and she thought it her duty to return it by the first opportunity of a safe conveyance.
Whilst Lord Colambre, to comfort himself for his disappointment, was fixing his eyes upon Miss Nugent’s name, written by her own hand, in the first leaf of the book, the door opened, and the figure of an interesting-looking lady, in deep mourning, appeared — appeared for one moment, and retired.
“Only my Lord Colambre, about a parcel I was bringing for him from England, my lady — my Lady Isabel, my lord,” said Mrs. Petito.
Whilst Mrs. Petito was saying this, the entrance and retreat had been made, and made with such dignity, grace, and modesty: with such innocence, dove-like eyes had been raised upon him, fixed and withdrawn,jordan 11; with such a gracious bend the Lady Isabel had bowed to him as she retired; with such a smile, and with so soft a voice, had repeated “Lord Colambre!” that his lordship, though well aware that all this was mere acting, could not help saying to himself, as he left the house, “It is a pity it is only acting. There is certainly something very engaging in this woman. It is a pity she is an actress. And so young! A much younger woman than I expected. A widow before most women are wives. So young, surely she cannot be such a fiend as they described her to be!”
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