Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 13, 2025
The deacon went for the fish which Kerbalay was cleaning and washing on the bank, but he stood still half-way and looked about him. "My God, how nice it is!" he thought. "People, rocks, the fire, the twilight, a monstrous tree nothing more, and yet how fine it is!" On the further bank some unknown persons made their appearance near the drying-shed.
The nutmeg-pickers sort the ripe nuts in an open gallery before taking them to the drying-shed, where they are spread on a platform of split bamboo, twelve feet above a smouldering fire. The process continues for six weeks, the nuts being repeatedly turned until they begin to rattle.
The tiles, both round and square, were made under the great elms opposite the gateway, in a vast green arbor bounded by the roofs of the drying-shed, and near this last the yawning mouth of the kiln was visible. Some long-handled shovels lay about the worn cider path. A second row of buildings had been erected parallel with these.
After waiting ten minutes the deacon came out of the drying-shed, and taking off his black hat that he might not be noticed, he began threading his way among the bushes and strips of maize along the bank, crouching and looking about him. The grass and maize were wet, and big drops fell on his head from the trees and bushes. "Disgraceful!" he muttered, picking up his wet and muddy skirt.
The deacon walked cautiously over the narrow bridge, which by now was reached by the topmost crests of the dirty water, and went up through the little copse to the drying-shed. "A splendid head," he thought, stretching himself on the straw, and thinking of Von Koren. "A fine head God grant him health; only there is cruelty in him. . . ." Why did he hate Laevsky and Laevsky hate him?
There was room enough in the old drying-shed in the Rue Tourlaque still stained with the dyes of former days to afford accommodation for three people. Settling there was, nevertheless, a difficult affair; for however big the place was, it provided them, after all, with but one room. It was like a gipsy's shed, where everything had to be done in common.
She ran over the rickety bridge and looked for a minute into the water, in order to feel giddy; then, shrieking and laughing, ran to the other side to the drying-shed, and she fancied that all the men were admiring her, even Kerbalay.
Patches of red light from the fire moved together with the shadows over the ground near the dark human figures, and quivered on the mountain, on the trees, on the bridge, on the drying-shed; on the other side the steep, scooped-out bank was all lighted up and glimmering in the stream, and the rushing turbid water broke its reflection into little bits.
Five of them sat in a circle on the ground, and the other five went into the drying-shed.
A little while after, I was sent for up to the Captain's room. He thanked me for the work I had done both indoors, and out, and went on to settle up. And that was all, really. But he kept me there a little, asking one or two things about the drying-shed, and we talked over that for a bit. Anyhow it would have to wait till after Christmas, he said.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking