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Updated: June 8, 2025
But the core of the army were the serried files of Aryan horse and foot,—blond-headed, blue-eyed men, Persians and Medes, veterans of twenty victories. Their muscles were tempered steel. Their unwearying feet had tramped many a long parasang.
He called next day, and found her all alone, for a niece who lived with her had gone away; and they became, he said, a little more at ease. And then began the most delicate of all wooings. I met them sometimes then and guessed at it, though as yet Parasang had not told me the story. He was more considerate, I imagine, than he had been in youth, and she, it may be, less exacting.
He was well the day before, they said, in perfect health, but he went mad on the eve of Christmas Day, and in the morning died. My friends, the Parasangs, both died last week. Mr. Parasang was carried off by a slight attack of pneumonia as dust is wiped away by a cloth, and Mrs. Parasang followed him within three days.
You know they have found grains of wheat in the Egyptian mummy cases, which were laid away over three thousand years ago, and that these grains of wheat, under the new conditions, have sprouted and grown and shot up green stalks and borne plump seeds again. And the love of Mr. and Mrs. Parasang has always reminded me of the mummy wheat.
Parasang was lying where she had died, in bed. And they had ordered another fine coffin for her. I went to the undertaker and asked him if he could not make a coffin for two.
Thence it is two parasangs to the valley of Ajalon , which the Christians call Val-de-Luna. At a distance of one parasang is Mahomerie-le-Grand, which is Gibeon the Great; it contains no Jews. From there it is three parasangs to Jerusalem, which is a small city, fortified by three walls.
Their old love story must have seemed to them something all unreal, something they had but read long ago in a book. Parasang was a large man, but Mrs. Blood that was now his old sweetheart's name was a small woman. Her hair was nearly white when I met her, but from the color of a few unchanged strands of it, I imagine that it must have been red when she was young.
If he be conscientious, he instils, together with his information that all Gaul is divided and that a parasang is not something to eat, also the belief that the game sought is worth the candle, and that hard study is not wasted time.
When Mr. Parasang died, the first instinct of his wife was to tell them to send for me, and when I reached their home for I was absent from the city I found that she had clung to and followed him as usual, as he liked it to be. It was what he lived for as long as he could live at all. They had ordered a fine coffin for Parasang, and when I came he was lying in it. Mrs.
The attack of pneumonia which came upon Parasang was not, the doctors told me, vicious enough to overthrow an ordinary man. I suppose it was merely that this man's life capital had run out. There is a great deal in heredity.
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