United States or Botswana ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Schnitzel's no worse than the president nor the canteen contractor." He waved his hand at the glaring coast-line, at the steaming swamps and the hot, naked mountains. "It's the country that does it," he said. "It's in the air. You can smell it as soon as you drop anchor, like you smell the slaughter-house at Punta-Arenas." "How do YOU manage to keep honest," I asked, smiling.
In the evening I read my notes to Schnitzel, who, in a corner of the smoking-room, sat, frowning importantly, checking off each statement, and where I made an error of a date or a name, severely correcting me. Several times I asked him, "Are you sure this won't get you into trouble with your 'people'? You seem to accuse everybody on each side." Schnitzel's eyes instantly closed with suspicion.
When they go to the president's door, they got to knock, like I used to, but now, when the old man sees me coming to make my report after one of these trips he calls out, 'Come right in, Mr. Schnitzel. And like as not I go in with my hat on and offer him a cigar. An' they see me do it, too!" To me, that speech seemed to give Schnitzel's view of the values of his life.
Immediately after my return to the Hotel Venezuela Schnitzel excused himself, and half an hour later returned in triumph with the cable operator and ordered lunch for both. They imbibed much sweet champagne. When we again were safe at sea, I said: "Schnitzel, how much did you pay that Frenchman to let you read my second cable?" Schnitzel's reply was prompt and complacent.
Immediately after my return to the Hotel Venezuela Schnitzel excused himself, and half an hour later returned in triumph with the cable operator and ordered lunch for both. They imbibed much sweet champagne. When we again were safe at sea, I said: "Schnitzel, how much did you pay that Frenchman to let you read my second cable?" Schnitzel's reply was prompt and complacent.
In the evening I read my notes to Schnitzel, who, in a corner of the smoking-room, sat, frowning importantly, checking off each statement, and where I made an error of a date or a name, severely correcting me. Several times I asked him, "Are you sure this won't get you into trouble with your 'people'? You seem to accuse everybody on each side." Schnitzel's eyes instantly closed with suspicion.
Schnitzel's no worse than the president nor the canteen contractor." He waved his hand at the glaring coast-line, at the steaming swamps and the hot, naked mountains. "It's the country that does it," he said. "It's in the air. You can smell it as soon as you drop anchor, like you smell the slaughter-house at Punta-Arenas." "How do you manage to keep honest," I asked, smiling.
When they go to the president's door, they got to knock, like I used to, but now, when the old man sees me coming to make my report after one of these trips he calls out, 'Come right in, Mr. Schnitzel. And like as not I go in with my hat on and offer him a cigar. An' they see me do it, too!" To me, that speech seemed to give Schnitzel's view of the values of his life.
Word Of The Day