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The farmer stood on his threshold weeping bitter tears; as he was very fat, with a face made for smiling, the hearts of the soldiers softened in some measure as they sat in the sun with their backs to the wall, listening to him and patting his dog the while. But the one who was dragging the child away by the hand made gestures as though to say: "You may save your tears! It is not my fault!"
Then taking a rhythm from the music before her, she said "At the back of the house is a garden a door in the wall on the lane. Understand?" I turned over the pages without any effect on her playing. "When?" I asked. She dealt in chords. "I wish I COULD play this!" she said. "Midnight." She gave her attention to the music for a time. "You may have to wait." "I'll wait."
For a moment she thought the door was locked; then she heard a queer sort of grating sound and something fell on the other side of the wall. Una pulled once more, and the door opened slowly towards her. What the little girl saw on the other side of the wall was so lovely that she gave a gasp of delight, and then stood, quite still, looking through the small doorway.
"Dar's de cattle pastur'," cried Big Abel, "en dey's been a-fittin' dar des look." "It must have been a skirmish," replied Dan, glancing down the slope. "The wall is all down, and see here," his foot struck on something hard and he stooped and picked up a horse's skull. "I dare say a squad of cavalry met Mosby's rangers," he added. "It looks as if they'd had a little frolic."
Though their rooms were beautiful, it was not with the tantalizing beauty of expensive and frail knick-knacks. Pictures hung against the wall, and statuary safely lodged on brackets, speak constantly to the childish eye, but are out of reach of childish fingers, and are not upset by childish romps.
They were bombs of "Uncertainty of the Third Degree," the Uncertainty of atomic law in bomb form. One hit the nose of the nearest ship, and a sphere five feet in diameter glowed mistily blue for a moment. Then very easily, the matter that formed the wall of the cruiser began to run and change, and presently there was only a hole, and an expanding cloud of gas.
Patience declared that I was nothing but M. Hubert de Mauprat's gamekeeper, in charge of his daughter. Annoyed at the discussion, I was about to make myself known when I saw a ghost rise by my side. It was Edmee. She had taken refuge between the wall and the cure's poor frightened horse, which, with outstretched legs and eyes of fire, made her a sort of rampart with its body.
But they did not go to war any more than the Wall Street Junkers go to war. Their predecessors declared the wars, but their miserable serfs fought the wars. The serfs believed that it was their patriotic duty to fall upon one another, to wage war upon one another. And that is war in a nut shell. The master class has always brought a war, and the subject class has fought the battle.
Though they passed the night under his roof, he did not offer them food or drink. This rich man was desirous of having a wall repaired that had tumbled down. There was no need for him to take any steps to have it rebuilt, for, when Elijah left the house, he prayed that the wall might erect itself, and, lo! it stood upright.
After a while, perhaps, when dusk falling over the city heralded brooding night, he would emerge from his room to visit his favorite pool room, where, in an atmosphere blue with smoke, he would lounge in a chair at a wall and exchange gossip of sport and sporting things with other hangers-on.
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