United States or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Oan: I will make me a new song. We do change the shape of wood and stone, but a song is made out of nothing. Ho! ho! I can fashion things from nothing! Also I say that the stars come down at morning and become the dew. Uk: Let us have no more of these stars. It may be that a song is a good thing, if it be of what a man knoweth.
Uk: Then shouldst thou have sung it only at that time, and not when it is yet day. But beware lest thou awaken me in the night. Make thou many stars, that they fly in the whiskers of Gurr. Oan: My song is even of stars. Uk: It was Ul, thy father's wont, ere I slew him with four great stones, to climb to the tops of the tallest trees and reach forth his hand, to see if he might not pluck a star.
I fully sympathize with Tennyson's, Northern Farmer, Old Style: "But summon 'ull come ater meä mayhap wi' 'is kittle o' steäm Huzzin' an' maäzin' the blessed feälds wi' the Devil's oän teäm"; for, except on a large farm with immense fields, the ponderous and ungainly steam, tackle gives one a sensation of intrusion.
I coodn help comparing them; and I coodnt help comparing myself to a certing Hannimle I've read of, that found it difficklt to make a choice betwigst 2 Bundles of A." "That ungrateful beest Fitzwarren my oan man a feller I've maid a fortune for a feller I give 100 lb. per hannum to! a low bred Wallydyshamber! HE must be thinking of falling in love too! and treating me to his imperence.
But do ye as ye will: as for me, I will have none of these songs and stars. Be it also known to all the women that if, remembering these wild words of Oan, they do sing them to themselves, or teach them to the young ones, they shall be beaten with brambles. Cause swiftly that the wife of Ok cease from her wailing, and bring hither the horses that were slain yesterday, that I may apportion them.
Uk: Said I not that "sad" should be spoken but once? Shall I set Ok and Un upon thee with their branches? Oan: But it was so born within me even "sad, sad " Uk: If again thou twice or thrice say "sad," thou shalt be dragged to the Stone. Oan: Owl Ow! I am thy cub! Yet listen: The bright day is gone. The night maketh me sad Ow! Ow! thou makest me more sad than the night doth! The song Uk: Ok! Un!
Last night I heard thee chant strange words at the mouth of thy cave. Oan: Ay! they are marvellous words; they were born within me in the dark. Uk: Art thou a woman, that thou shouldst bring forth? Why dost thou not sleep when it is dark? Oan: I did half sleep; perhaps I dreamed. Uk: And why shouldst thou dream, not having had more than thy portion of flesh?
Be prepared! I will begin afresh: The bright day is gone. The night maketh me sad. The the the Uk: Thou hast forgotten, and art a fool! See, Ala, he is a fool! Ok and Un: He is a fool! All the Tribe: He is a fool! Oan: I am not a fool! This is a new thing. In the past, when ye did chant, O men, ye did leap about the Stone, beating your breasts and crying, "Hai, hai, hai!"
Had Oan wisdom, he might have eaten thereof; and had a mammoth fallen into our pit, he might have feasted many days. But Oan was a fool! Un: Oan was a fool! All the Tribe: Oan was a fool! It was the last of Morganson's bacon. In all his life he had never pampered his stomach. In fact, his stomach had been a sort of negligible quantity that bothered him little, and about which he thought less.
But I said: "Perhaps they be as chestnut-burs." And all the tribe did laugh. Ul was also a fool. But what dost thou sing of stars? Oan: I will begin again: The bright day is gone. The night maketh me sad, sad, sad Uk: Nay, the night maketh thee sad; not sad, sad, sad. For when I say to Ala, "Gather thou dried leaves," I say not, "Gather thou dried leaves, leaves, leaves." Thou art a fool!
Word Of The Day