Active Service, Stephen Crane [classic books for 11 year olds TXT] 📗
- Author: Stephen Crane
Book online «Active Service, Stephen Crane [classic books for 11 year olds TXT] 📗». Author Stephen Crane
Up ! Say, What In hell Do You Suppose All These Jay
Hawking bell-Boys Poured out To The Kerb For? Go
Back To Your Cages, My Good People-"
As Soon As The Carriage Wheeled into Another
Street, Its Occupants Exchanged easier Smiles, And
They Must Have Confessed in some Subtle Way Of
Glances That Now At Last They Were Upon Their Own
Mission, A Mission Undefined but Earnest To Them All.
Coleman Had A Glad Feeling of Being let Into The Family,
Or Becoming one Of Them
The Professor Looked sideways At Him And Smiled
Gently. " You Know, I Thought Of Driving you To
Some Ruins, But Marjory Would Not Have It. She Flatly
Objected to Any More Ruins. So I Thought We Would
Drive Down To New Phalerum."
Coleman Nodded and Smiled as If He Were Immensely
Pleased, But Of Course New Phalerum Was To Him No
More Nor-Less Than Vladivostok Or Khartoum.
Neither Place Nor Distance Had Interest For Him.
They Swept Along A Shaded avenue Where The Dust Lay
Thick On The Leaves; They Passed cafes Where Crowds
Were Angrily Shouting over The News In the Little Papers;
They Passed a Hospital Before Which Wounded
Men, White With Bandages, Were Taking the Sun; Then
Came Soon To The And Valley Flanked by Gaunt Naked
Mountains, Which Would Lead Them To The Sea. Sometimes
To Accentuate The Dry Nakedness Of This Valley,
There Would Be A Patch Of Grass Upon Which Poppies
Burned crimson Spots. The Dust Writhed out From
Under The Wheels Of The Carriage; In the Distance The
Sea Appeared, A Blue Half-Disc Set Between Shoulders Of
Barren Land. It Would Be Common To Say That Coleman
Was Oblivious To All About Him But Marjory. On
The Contrary, The Parched land, The Isolated flame Of
Poppies, The Cool Air From The Sea, All Were Keenly
Known To Him, And They Had Developed an Extraordinary
Power Of Blending sympathetically Into His
Mood. Meanwhile The Professor Talked a Great Deal.
And As A Somewhat Exhilarating detail, Coleman Perceived
That Ms. Wainwright Was Beaming upon Him.
At New Phalerum-A Small Collection Of Pale Square
Villas-They Left The Carriage And Strolled, By The Sea.
The Waves Were Snarling together Like Wolves Amid
The Honeycomb Rocks And From Where The Blue Plane
Sprang Level To The Horizon, Came A Strong Cold Breeze,
The Kind Of A Breeze Which Moves An Exulting man Or
A Parson To Take Off His Hat And Let His Locks Flutter
And Tug Back From His Brow.
The Professor And Mrs. Wainwright Were Left To
Themselves.
Marjory And Coleman Did Not Speak For A Time. It
Might Have Been That They Did Not Quite Know Where
To Make A Beginning. At Last Marjory Asked:
"What Has Become Of Your Splendid Horse?"
"Oh, I'Ve Told The Dragoman To Have Him Sold As
Soon As He Arrives," Said Coleman Absently.
" Oh. I'M Sorry * * I Liked that Horse."
"Why? "
"Oh, Because-"
"Well, He Was A Fine-" Then He, Too, Interrupted
Himself, For He Saw Plainly That They Had Not
Come To This Place To Talk About A Horse. Thereat He
Made Speech Of Matters Which At Least Did Not Afford
As Many Opportunities For Coherency As Would The
Horse. Marjory, It Can'T Be True * * * Is It True,
Dearest * * I Can Hardly Believe It. -I-"
" Oh, I Know I'M Not Nearly Good Enough For You."
" Good Enough For Me, Dear?
" They All Told Me So, And They Were Right ! Why,
Even The American Minister Said It. Everybody Thinks
It."
"Why, Aren 'T They Wretches To Think Of Them
Saying such A Thing! As If-As If Anybody Could Be
Too--"
" Do You Know-" She Paused and Looked at
Him With A Certain Timid Challenge. " I Don'T Know
Why I Feel It, But-Sometimes I Feel That I'Ve Been
I'Ve Been Flung At Your Head."
He Opened his Mouth In astonishment. " Flung At
My Head!
She Held Up Her Finger. "And If I Thought You
Could Ever Believe It ! "
" Is A Girl Flung At A Man'S Head When Her Father
Carries Her Thousands Of Miles Away And The Man
Follows Her All These Miles, And At Last-"
" Her Eyes Were Shining. "And You Really Came To
Greece-On Purpose To-To-"
" Confess You Knew It All The Time! Confess!"
The Answer Was Muffled. " Well, Sometimes I
Thought You Did, And At Other Times I Thought You-
Didn'T."
In A Secluded cove, In which The Sea-Maids Once Had
Played, No Doubt, Marjory And Coleman Sat In silence.
He Was Below Her, And If He Looked at Her He Had To
Turn His Glance Obliquely Upward. She Was Staring at
The Sea With Woman'S Mystic Gaze, A Gaze Which Men
At Once Reverence And Fear Since It Seems To Look Into
The Deep, Simple Heart Of Nature, And Men Begin To Feel
That Their Petty Wisdoms Are Futile To Control These
Strange Spirits, As Wayward As Nature And As Pure As
Nature, Wild As The Play Of Waves, Sometimes As Unalterable
As The Mountain Amid The Winds; And To
Measure Them, Man Must Perforce Use A Mathematical
Formula.
He Wished that She Would Lay Her Hand Upon His
Hair. He Would Be Happy Then. If She Would Only,
Of Her Own Will, Touch His Hair Lightly With Her
Fingers-If She Would Do It With An Unconscious Air It
Would Be Even Better. It Would Show Him That She
Was Thinking of Him, Even When She Did Not Know She
Was Thinking of Him.
Perhaps He Dared lay His Head Softly Against Her Knee.
Did He Dare?
As His Head Touched her Knee, She Did Not Move.
She Seemed to Be Still Gazing at The Sea. Presently
Idly Caressing fingers Played in his Hair Near The
Forehead. He Looked up Suddenly Lifting his Arms.
He Breathed out A Cry Which Was Laden With A Kind Of
Diffident Ferocity. " I Haven'T Kissed you Yet-"
ImprintPublication Date: 05-19-2014
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