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Updated: May 25, 2025
On looking at the Sun, I was at once struck with the apparent resolvability of its mottled appearance. The whole disc of the Sun, so far as I examined it, appeared to be covered over with relatively bright rice-like particles, and the mottled appearance seemed to be produced by the interlacing of these particles.
The woman grew serious. Then she showed her rice-like row of teeth as she laughed. "That means there 's nothing in it for me," she complained with pouting-lipped moroseness. Her venality, he began to see, was merely the instinctive acquisitiveness of the savage, the greed of the petted child. "No more than there is for me," Blake acknowledged.
"I could not observe any particular arrangement of the particles, but they appeared to be more numerous in some parts than in others. I have used the word 'rice-like' merely to convey a rough impression of their form. I have seen them on two occasions since, but not so well as on the first day, when the definition was exceedingly good.
Her hair, one of her beauties, blew about her ears in tangled curls that were unconfined by hat or bonnet. She smiled at him, showing rows of rice-like teeth, of an exaggerated white in contrast with the sunburn of her face. "Hello," she said. "Hello," said Seth in return. Then, in the outspoken manner of the prairie folk he asked: "Who ah you?" "I am Cyclona," she answered. "Cyclona what?"
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